Yep, I'm back with another oneshot. This one was inspired by headcannon #995 featured on tumblr blog 'wir-headcannons'.(/post/44688608033/headcanon-995)
Prompt: Due to literally punching bricks all day long, Ralph's knuckles can get scratched up and bruised. This worries Vanellope. But to make it all better, she plays 'Doctor' and poorly wraps his fists with bandages. Ralph really doesn't mind the bruising and scratching, since he's done it for more than 30 years. But he just smiles and says, "Thanks, kid," every time she 'Fixes' him up, because it's the thought that counts.
Too cute to pass up. Plus, I (and and probably Vanellope too) am fascinated by Ralph's oversized hands, and the dichotomy of sheer brutality and affection that he balances with them.
As usual, I own nothing. Enjoy!
Ralph wrecked buildings. That's what he did for a living. It was in his code to wreck things, just as it had been for the past three decades. And while he enjoyed his job (moreso now that he doesn't live alone in the dump), he also understood that it came with certain risks.
For example, Felix was able to use his hat as protection from falling debris, especially after eating the power-up pies Mary set on her windowsill for him every few levels or so. He also had multiple lives. Well, he was the hero and the avatar of the game, so he had to – players would sometimes mess up, missing a jump to a window ledge or getting too close to Ralph without enough points and getting walloped.
Ralph didn't have those things. He had no safety gear, no power-ups, no protection. The only thing he had was his hands, but they were just that – flesh and muscle and bone. And it's true that he's the strongest character in nearly the entire arcade, but he's not invincible, not by far. His hands sustained a lot of wear and tear over the course of a day. Punching bricks, glass and metal really took it out of his knuckles, and by closing time on a busy day they would often be scratched, bruised and sore.
Usually regenerating would take care of a character's injuries, but that only went so far, generally within the bounds of serious bodily injury or character death. And more often than not, it was only the hero who would regenerate. So, while Felix could regenerate whenever he was hurt or killed during game-play, Ralph couldn't. In fact, he couldn't remember a single time in 30 years that a regeneration during a reset healed up what damage his hands had taken that day.
He didn't mind though. After that long a time of tearing down buildings, a guy just gets used to it.
But apparently, Vanellope thought that was wholly unacceptable.
"Kid, what are you doing?" Ralph exclaimed, watching as she herded him into a chair and pushed against one of his legs in an attempt to get him to sit down. He complied, watching confusedly as she set a first-aid kit on the floor by his feet and started rummaging through it.
"What does it look like, Stinkbrain?" she asked, pulling a roll of bandage wraps out of the metal box, along with some hydrogen peroxide and cotton swabs. "I'm gonna fix you up."
She reached for his hands and he chuckled, pulling them back a little.
"Vanellope, you don't have to do that," he told her. "I'm fine, I promise."
She frowned at him, one eyebrow dipped in suspicion. Her hazel eyes flickered to his massive hands settled over the arm rests. She took in the red, angry scratches, the spots where the skin was broken, the purple and blue bruises that bloomed over his knuckles, and what looked a lot like spots of dried blood crusted over the damage. Her eyes shot back to his face and she snorted in disbelief.
"Yeah, looks perfectly fine to me."
He sighed, "I know it looks bad, but really, I'm used to it. I've been doing this a long time, and after a while you don't even notice it anymore." He was being honest; he hardly even noticed his hands were that beat up when he left for Game Central Station to visit Sugar Rush.
"What are you doing in that game anyway," she admonished, "punching cheese graters?" She made a grab for his hands again, wrapping her smaller ones around one of his fingers and tugging him forward. He followed the motion, allowing her to inspect his knuckles more closely.
He rolled his eyes. "It's my job to wreck things, kid, I think I can handle it."
"Oh please," she retorted, "you can barely take care of yourself in the first place, gigantor." She pointedly ignored the empty glare he aimed at her. "'Sides, if I got hurt, you'd want to take care of me. Remember that one time I flipped my cart during the Roster Race?"
Vanellope had been heading off with Crumbelina during a race one night, both girls acting intensely competitive. They took a curve at high speeds, nearly locking fenders as one attempted to knock the other off the track. They flew down the plains of the candy cane forest, kicking up cocoa dust in the wake of their tire treads, when a power-up appeared in the distance. Crumbelina beat the princess to it and was rewarded with a caramel cannon, when she immediately set its sights on Vanellope and fired.
The mini president swerved, managing to dodge getting covered with the sticky mess. Instead, it hit the track directly in front of her. When she hit the patch, she struck it broadside at near full speed. Two of the cookie wheels were immediately stuck in the caramel, forcing the momentum to carry through the rest of the cart as the other side lifted clear off the ground, flinging Vanellope out of the driver's pit. She tumbled clear across the track and into the forest before coming to a stop. Ralph, who watched the whole thing play out on the jumbo-tron at the finish line, booked it down the entire stretch of racetrack to get to her.
"Hey, that was different!" he argued.
"Yeah right," she scoffed. "I thought your big head was gonna explode 'cause you were so worried. You wouldn't even calm down 'til the castle doctor examined me, no matter what I said. And I ended up being fine, just a little shaken from the throw - no thanks to Crumbelina and her stupid cannon," she added under her breath.
"What ever, you little cavity. What's your point?"
"My point is that you should sit still and stop being such a big diaper baby!"
Ralph groaned, running a hand through his messy hair before begrudgingly assenting to her request. There was no point in arguing with her, he realized. He was never going to win, not with her stubbornness. He shifted from the chair to the floor and held his hands out, allowing Vanellope easier access to the giant appendages. She grinned at her small victory, her eyes warming pleasantly. Despite himself, he smiled back.
"Do what you must, your Royal Sugarness," he joked with an air of fanciness. She got to work, uncapping the peroxide and covering the mouth of the bottle with a wad of cotton, then tipping it slightly to wet the fibers. She set the bottle down and hovered over one of his hands cautiously.
"Okay, so this is gonna sting a bit, big guy. Just warning you." Before he could comment, she set the wet cotton on his injured knuckles and began to scrub softly at the dirt and brick dust that had settled there. Ralph winced slightly, sucking in a breath through his teeth. She paused, glancing up at him and smiling apologetically before returning to her work.
She was right – stuff really did sting. He watched as she worked, cleaning up the scrapes and busted skin on both hands, meticulous in her methods. It was actually kind of nice, once he got over the burn of the peroxide. He'd never really had anyone before to take care of him when he was hurt. When ever his hands did get busted up, he just ignored it and soldiered back to the dump, without a word of concern or worry from the others. But now, for the first time in his life, someone genuinely cared. A warmth blossomed somewhere deep in his chest at the thought.
"Okay, so that part's done." She nodded with satisfaction at her work. "Now on to the bandages." She picked up the bandages and rolled out a length, eyed it, glanced at his hands, and then rolled out a considerable amount more. She started with the thumb of his right hand, wrapping it around a few times before stretching it over the entire span of his knuckles. He could tell that she hand no clue what she was doing, as the wrapping was messy and not very tight. He'd seen Zangief wrap his hands before he wrestled more than enough times to know how it was supposed to look. Ralph didn't say anything, though, just let her continue happily on. Her tongue was poking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration as she finished wrapping the first hand. She set it on the floor beside her and started on the other one, going about it in the same way.
"Aaaand, finished!" she exclaimed. "What do you think?" He drew his hand back from her lap, holding it up and examining it with a mock serious expression.
"Hm, not bad," he replied, only slightly feigned enthusiasm in his voice. He clenched his fingers into a fist, watching the fabric stretch but still hold in place. It was a child's work, but it was done with love, and that was all that mattered. "Not bad at all. Maybe you should switch the wheels for a stethoscope, kid."
Vanellope shook her head with a laugh. "Sure thing, right after you give up wrecking to be a concert pianist," she teased.
Ralph reached out, gathering her into his arms and hugging her close to his chest. She squealed as her feet left the ground but was quick to return the hug, clutching her hands in his shirt as her legs dangled, and breathing in the scent so familiar to her now.
"Thanks kid," he murmured, gratitude and fondness clear in his tone. "Thanks for taking care of me." She pulled back from the embrace slightly, just enough to look up at him. He brushed the thin tendrils of hair back from her face affectionately. She smiled.
"No problem, Ralphie," she replied. "You'd do the same for me."
I hope yall enjoyed it! Review please!