Title/Prompt: Day
Rating/Warnings: PG
Word count: 3209
Summary: Five times a Planeteer was hurt (and five times someone comforted them).

Notes: Remember how in the author's notes of my last chapter I was all "I hope this isn't the last Captain Planet story I write for 2014!" Lmao yeah, look how that turned out...

I'm still heeeere. Kind of. I have actually been writing Cap fic pretty steadily but I haven't managed to finish anything. But Missgoldy left some amazing, thoughtful and in depth reviews on my older stuff - far more than any of it deserved - and I had to repay her somehow. So, Sarah, this one is for you.

Five little snippets of hurt/comfort. Including two Wheeler/Linka scenes, because I'm guessing they're your favourites ;)

*Possible squick warning for the first snippet; features stitching a wound.


"Ah! Byt' ostorožnym!"

Wheeler glanced up, looking amused. "Did you just swear at me in Russian?"

Linka tugged her hand away. "Nyet, I told you to be careful." She frowned down at the wound on the inside of her arm. It had stopped bleeding — finally — but the pain was raw and deep, and Wheeler's prodding was only making it worse.

"Sorry," he apologized. He tugged her arm gently back into his lap and bent over it again, needle and thread held delicately in his fingers. "You sure you don't want Gi to do this?"

Linka glanced over at Gi, who was lying supine on the floor, her head cradled in Ma-Ti's lap as he checked over the lump on her brow.

"Even with a concussion, she'd probably still be better at this than I am," Wheeler added with a grin.

"Just get on with it, Yankee." She leaned back against her seat and forced herself to focus on the clouds below them as Kwame quietly piloted them home. She felt the prick and pull of the thread as Wheeler carefully started stitching her wound.

Going to a hospital was inconvenient, time consuming and complicated. This wasn't the first time the Planeteers had patched their own wounds on the flight home, and it wouldn't be the last.

"This is gonna scar," Wheeler murmured, his head bent over Linka's arm.

She threw one of his own quotes lightly back at him. "The price we pay for being such badasses."

He laughed and looked up at her with sparkling blue eyes. She smiled back at him and looked out the window again, the whole process easier to bear if she didn't have to watch the progress of the needle and thread.

"You're pretty lucky," Wheeler said after a moment. "This could have been a lot worse. You know, tendon damage or something…"

"I know," she answered. "Still, better for his knife to hit my arm than my throat."

Wheeler's hands stilled, and his thumbs stroked briefly over the inside of her wrist. Over the dark throbbing of the wound, the gentle touch was soothing reassurance. She closed her eyes and tried to draw the sensation to the surface, above everything else.

She let Wheeler work in silence for a while, until her discomfort became too much again. "You are not hurt?" she asked, seeking distraction in conversation. She grit her teeth and tried to relax her arm as Wheeler worked to close the wound Bleak's knife had caused.

"Nah," Wheeler said, keeping his head bent over his work as he concentrated. "Got lucky this time."

She felt a swab pass over her arm, and then the prick of the needle again. She drew a deep breath and exhaled it silently.

"Almost done," he promised. His thumb stroked her skin again, a small gesture of comfort which did enough to make her sigh in gratitude.

"I think that'll do it," Wheeler said eventually, bending over her arm to inspect his work. "I'm getting better, look."

Linka glanced down at the neat row of stitches. "I should stop giving you so much practice."

"That'd be nice," Wheeler agreed. He swabbed her arm with an antiseptic that stained her skin yellow, and started wrapping a clean bandage over it. "You'll have to take it easy for a few days."

"Of course," she answered wryly, knowing it was unlikely they'd even get a full night's sleep before the next eco-alert sent them across the world again.

Wheeler secured the bandage neatly. "Pretty as a picture," he said proudly.

"Thank you, Yankee."

"Yeah," he said, dismissing her thanks. He started tossing anything he hadn't used back into the first aid kit with a lot less care than he'd previously shown. "There'll come a point where you'll have to patch me up, right?"

"I suppose so," Linka agreed tiredly. Her adrenaline was wearing off and she felt drowsy and a little lightheaded.

Wheeler got up to put everything away and wash his hands again. Linka listened to his movements at the back of the geo-cruiser, her fingers running over the rough bandage. The beat of her heart pulsed in her wound, and she willed it to stop, gritting her teeth and slowly counting to ten in her head to get her breathing under control.

"Here, babe." Wheeler dropped back into the seat beside her. He handed her a juicebox and dropped two paracetamol into her palm. "Get your blood sugar up."

"Thank you," she said. She swallowed the paracetamol hastily, unsure if it would be enough to stop the pain, but willing to try anything.

Wheeler slouched down in his seat, his knees braced against the seat in front of him. He reached over and took Linka's hand, taking obvious care not to brush against her bandage. She neither admonished or encouraged him — just sipped obediently at her juice, watching the clouds skim past. The sun coming through the window was warm on her skin, and she felt herself getting drowsy.

"How you doin', Gi?" Wheeler asked, leaning around the seat a little to get eye contact with her.

"I'm okay," Gi murmured from her position on the floor. "Kinda dizzy. Think I'm putting Ma-Ti's legs to sleep."

Ma-Ti laughed and said something Linka couldn't catch. Wheeler grinned and leaned back in his seat again, and Linka used his movement as an excuse to settle herself against him, her head against his shoulder.

She woke briefly when Wheeler gently took the empty juicebox from her hand to stop it tumbling to the floor. She blinked, not sure when she had fallen asleep, but not ready to wake up yet. Outside, the sun was lower in the sky, but that did little to tell her what time it was or whether or not they were almost home.

Wheeler kissed the top of her head. "You okay?"

"Fine," she murmured.

"Thought you must be feeling pretty faint if you were willing to fall asleep on me."

"Da, that is all it is," she said. "Do not flatter yourself too much, Yankee."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he said, but he lifted his arm to wrap it around her shoulders, drawing her in.

"Do not make yourself too comfortable," she muttered, closing her eyes again.

He grinned against the top of her head. "Your bark is worse than your bite, babe."

"You never pay attention to my bark," she said. "Perhaps I should bite you."

"I might be into that." He laughed and tightened his arm around her. "Go back to sleep, Linka."


Kwame coughed and rubbed his eyes, cracking them open against the sharp stinging sensation, relieved to notice there was light. A blurry red shape moved above him.

"Yo," Wheeler said. "You okay?" He caught Kwame's hand and forced him to stop rubbing at his eyes.

"What happened?"

"Blight squirted you in the face with a bunch of chemicals. You've been out for a while. Can you see?"

"Mm." Kwame squinted at him. His eyes felt puffy and swollen, and they were beginning to water. "Where is everyone else?"

"Blight took off, so Linka's tracking her on the eco-vision, and Gi and Ma-Ti are busy checkin' over the geo-cruiser to make sure our previous landing didn't compromise the mechanics too much."

"Oh, you call it a landing?" Kwame asked. He closed his eyes again; it hurt too much to keep them open.

"Shut up," Wheeler said, but he was obviously grinning.

Kwame reached for his face again. "This hurts."

"Yeah, you look pretty messed up," Wheeler said, not mincing his words. "This might help."

Something cool and wet was placed carefully over Kwame's eyes — a washcloth soaked in cold water. He sighed in relief. "That is a lot better."

"Linka said you should be okay, but it might take some time for the swelling to go down."

Kwame anxiously thought about how long that might take. "Where is Blight? She got away?"

"Yeah, she took off. Linka's tracking her."

"We should go after her now, so we do not lose her."

"Yeah," Wheeler mused, "or, y'know, we could wait until you get your eyesight back."

"I have my sight," Kwame argued. "It is just a little swelling…"

"Trust me, man, if you could see your face right now, you wouldn't call it 'a little' swelling."

Kwame skimmed his fingers over the washcloth folded over his eyes. "This is helping."

"Gi raided the camp fridge in the geo-cruiser and made a gloopy paste out of cucumber and Greek yogurt," Wheeler said. "She said it'd help soothe your skin, but… well, I'll be honest, dude, I've eaten most of it."

Kwame laughed and tugged the washcloth from his eyes, squinting up at Wheeler. "I think I will pass on the face mask, thank you."

Wheeler grinned down at him. "Wise choice, if you ask me." He carefully adjusted the washcloth so it was over Kwame's eyes again. "You copped it pretty bad, Kwame."

Kwame felt vulnerable with his eyes covered, but he willed himself to keep the washcloth in place. "Is anyone else hurt?"

"Nah," Wheeler said. "Just you." He squeezed Kwame's shoulder gently. "Rest up, okay?"

Kwame gave a frustrated sigh. "Blight is getting ahead of us."

"Blight can wait," Wheeler insisted. He squeezed Kwame's shoulder again, fingers rubbing comforting little circles through his t-shirt. "Everythin' will be a lot harder if you can't see properly."

"I suppose," Kwame agreed, though he hated being the one to cause the delay; he hated being the reason Blight wasn't already apprehended.

"You sure you don't want to try this face mask thing Gi whipped up?" Wheeler asked after a moment. "I only ask because, uh, there ain't much left."

"What does it taste like?" Kwame asked curiously.

Wheeler took his hand and Kwame's fingers brushed the edge of a wooden bowl. He scooped a fingertip through the mixture and brought it tentatively to his lips. "Hm," he said. "That is not half bad."

"Tell me about it!" Wheeler said. "I'm thinkin' of askin' her to whip up another batch."

"Wheeler!" Gi shrieked. "Are you eating that?"

"No!" he answered defensively.

Kwame started to laugh.


Ma-Ti startled awake as Suchi clambered up onto his chest, chattering quietly. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. His headache had not yet disappeared, and his fever seemed worse than ever. Nearly a month of constant travel and jetlag had worn them all down — and Ma-Ti had found himself susceptible to a bout of the flu.

Suchi held the remote control to the TV towards him.

"Oh, thank you, little friend," Ma-Ti said listlessly. "But I am not in the mood for the television."

Ma-Ti could sense Suchi's annoyance even without deliberately using his ring. Suchi liked the television.

"I am too sleepy," Ma-Ti said, rubbing a hand over his face and closing his eyes again. His throat itched and he smothered a cough against the inside of his elbow. "It is a waste to have the television on when I will only fall asleep in front of it."

Suchi chirped in annoyance and pushed the remote control into Ma-Ti's hand.

"Oh, all right," Ma-Ti sighed. He thumbed the remote and the TV came on with a hum, playing one of the American soaps Linka and Gi claimed to have no interest in, despite somehow knowing all of the main storylines.

Suchi patted Ma-Ti's cheek in gentle thanks before he sprang to the floor and and ran towards the kitchen.

"Oh, see?" Ma-Ti called after him, annoyed. "You do not even want to watch!"

He gazed at the television with glazed eyes for a few minutes, too exhausted to move. The droning of the voices and the soft music playing over everything actually made for a pleasant background hum that Ma-Ti found easy to fall asleep to.

Gi sometimes falls asleep to whale songs on tape, he thought deliriously. Perhaps The Bold and the Beautiful is the same sort of thing.

Suchi came back, patting Ma-Ti's arm with a wet little hand.

"What have you been doing?" Ma-Ti asked, opening one eye to look at him.

Suchi held a glass of water towards him. Ma-Ti glanced towards the kitchen, noting the trail of wet footprints and spills Suchi had left behind him.

"Thank you, Suchi," he said gratefully, taking the glass. "You are a good friend." He drank the water and set the glass down on the floor beside the couch, sinking back into the pillow behind him.

Suchi nestled down in the curve of Ma-Ti's neck, patting his cheek gently, eyes focused on the television as though he were thoroughly engrossed in the storyline playing out on the screen.

"Be sure to tell me what happens," Ma-Ti murmured, closing his eyes. "I am going back to sleep."


"Ow." Gi patted her nose tenderly. "I can't believe I got sunburned. I guess I lost track of time out there."

"Easy to do," Kwame reassured her. He was busy poking around the plants on his windowsill, hunting for something.

"If you're busy, I can come back," Gi said. "I just thought we'd take a moment to go over the plan for tomorrow, especially because —"

"No, not busy." Kwame interrupted her with a smile and snapped a spiny leaf off one of the plants in a chipped terracotta pot. "Here, this will help your sunburn."

He sat next to her on his bed and gently dabbed the slippery end of the stem against Gi's nose.

Gi crossed her eyes to look at it. "Oh, aloe," she breathed. "Thanks, Kwame."

He smiled and squeezed the leaf, smoothing the gel into her skin with his finger. "You are welcome, Gi."

She closed her eyes and leaned forward. "It feels better already."

Kwame chuckled and tapped the end of her nose gently. "Prevention is better than a cure."

"Oh, I know," she said, frowning. Her nose crinkled and the sunburn flared on her skin as a result. "I'm usually better with sun protection. I burn so easily. I mean, not as easily as Linka, but…"

"Few people burn as easily as Linka," Kwame agreed. "There. Does that feel better?"

"So much better." She opened her eyes and smiled at him. "Thanks."

"You are welcome." He grinned at her, and she could tell he wanted to laugh but was holding back.

"What?" she asked.

"You look like Rudolph the reindeer," Kwame said, and his laughter spilled out of him when she shoved him.

It was hard to be stern when she was giggling, but she tried. "Don't you dare mention that to Wheeler — he won't let it go!"

He laughed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, dropping an affectionate kiss to the top of her head. "It will stay between us, I promise. But…" He trailed off and erupted into laughter again.

Gi sank back against Kwame's pillows and laughed. "You'll keep," she said. "You just wait until you need my help for something."

"Oh, that day will come, I know," Kwame said, grinning at her. "But until then, I will allow myself to find this amusing."


"Ow, shit!" Wheeler complained.

Linka tutted. "That is another dollar in your swear jar, Yankee."

"Worth it," he said through gritted teeth.

"Are you sure this is not an injury worthy of a hospital?" she asked, looking at him with sharp green eyes.

"Totally sure," he said, trying to sound as though his ribs weren't bothering him at all. "It's just a bruise."

"Just a bruise," she muttered, lifting his t-shirt again to look at his chest, which was already started to show an impressive black bruise, only a couple of hours after Sludge had knocked him sideways into a dumpster. "Take this off," Linka added, tugging at his shirt.

"I thought you'd never ask," he said, earning himself a glare. "It's fine, Linka," he said, adopting a more reassuring tone, because being a smartass only ever worked against him. "You and I both know what a punctured lung feels like, and there's none of that goin' on, so… it'll be fine."

She glanced up at him and kept prodding gently at his ribs. He grit his teeth and willed himself to stay still, even if her ministrations were painful.

"I would feel better if you got some x-rays, Wheeler," she said doubtfully, sitting back on her heels and looking at him with a worried frown.

"Nah," he said. "Come on, hospitals suck. Not to mention we've literally burned through any legitimate company who offers international health cover. A couple of days with my feet up in front of the TV and I'll be totally fine."

Linka sighed and brushed a stray strand of her back from her face, tucking it into her ponytail. "Da, fine, if that is what you want."

"I'm fine!" he promised earnestly.

She merely raised her eyebrows at him. "I will get you some ice."

He eased himself back onto his pillows when she left him, and allowed himself another therapeutic curse word. He cast a guilty glance to the swear jar on his windowsill, crammed to the brim with bills and coins of several different currencies.

Linka returned with an ice pack wrapped in a towel, and she sat on the edge of Wheeler's bed and carefully held it against his ribs.

"Thanks, babe," he murmured.

"If the pain is no better in the morning, I am taking you to hospital," she said. "No ifs, ands or buts, Yankee."

"Okay," he answered tiredly. He folded his hand over hers. "Thanks for lookin' out for me."

"Hm," she sniffed, clearly not willing to forgive him so soon.

He shuffled over to make room for her beside him. "C'mon," he pleaded, giving her his best puppy dog expression when she raised her eyebrow at him.

"Bozhe moy," she muttered. She sighed and curled up next to him, holding the ice pack in place with her hand, resting her head on the pillow beside him. "You know, you would not get hurt so often if you were a little less impulsive."

"I know," he said. He twined his fingers with hers, the ice cold under his palm. "But see, if I hadn't been impulsive, and I hadn't gotten hurt, then you wouldn't be here with me now, so…" He turned his head and grinned at her, brushing a light kiss against the end of her freckled nose. "It wasn't a complete write off."

"Do not make a habit of hurting yourself to gain my sympathy, Wheeler," she murmured, closing her eyes and snuggling into his pillow. "I would rather rest beside you when neither of us is hurt."

"Noted," he said. "I'm pretty sure I'd prefer that, too."

She smiled at him and squeezed his hand.

"All in all, to come out of a mission with only a few bruised ribs between all five of us is pretty good," Wheeler said, feeling drowsy now that Linka was curled up beside him. "I'm happy to take a hit for the team."

"All in a day's work?" Linka asked.

"Exactly." He kissed her forehead. "All in a day's work."