Ghost's Reign Chapter 33: You Can't Kill a Ghost, a How to Train Your Dragon + Big Hero 6 Crossover fanfic

Chapter 33, everybody! Now it's time for the boys to process trauma. *jazz hands*

So I have fortunately never broken a bone but my Dad has broken ribs in my lifetime and I can work from his descriptions. Basically, breathing hurts while it's all healing up.

So I know bi-kong means sky blue in some language because that's how I did a lot of the dragons' names—thought it was Korean but in trying to hunt it back up best guess is Chinese, really need to start saving these or taking notes when I do them. In other news, Obake with those healing medications is me with Excedrin—once a month it's me weighing the pros and cons of intense pain versus brain fog. :\ Moving on…Obake backstory.

Obake slowly returned to the realm of the living with the conviction that everything hurt, he had a pounding headache, and he was still exhausted. Would really like to go back to sleep now….

No wait no—

Catapult upright—

OH that was a bad thing to do—gingerly flop back in bed, curling up around his aching ribs and—wait, bed?

He was aware of the fact that he was in a bed in the infirmary back on Yokai when a sky-blue Zippleback started squawking.

"Yeah yeah I'm coming—welcome back," Jian said, coming over. "Glad you could join us."

Obake scrubbed his face, reminding himself that among other talents, the reason he couldn't kill Jian was because the man knew the most about medicine of anyone still remaining on Yokai—battlefield medicine and herbal remedies, mostly, but still. "What did I miss?"

"Oronos tried to fit a whole baked fish in his mouth," Jian offered, feeling along his ribs—didn't seem surprised when Obake slapped his hand away with a snarl. "And you have several bruised ribs and at least two cracked ones—judging by the rest of you, I'm guessing the Moss-Hut tribe roughed you over pretty well."

"It was a group activity," he said, trying to get up—scowled when Jian pushed him back down.

"Yeah, no, you're going to want to take it easy for more than a few days," Jian said, walking away. "I'll be back—Bikong, make sure he doesn't get up."

The Zippleback made a set of affirmative noises, focused its attention on him. Obake huffed, rolled out of bed with the intent of taking his leave—

Staggered against the next bed and had to brace himself—oh, EVERYTHING hurt.

Winced at the feeling of his vest and sweater getting pinched near his shoulders—had problems with being plopped back in bed by one of the Zippleback heads. Tried going the other way—pushed back into place by the other head.

"Do you mind!?" he demanded, taking a swing at one of the heads—okay that was a mistake OW—

"Good boys," Jian said, coming back over with a steaming mug and what looked like Obake's coat. "Hey, am I supposed to refer to them in the singular or plural?"

"Why do you people keep asking me?" Obake demanded, accepting the mug. Smelled heavily of herbs, suggesting that it could possibly make him feel at least a little improved.

"You're the dragon expert," Jian countered, watching him down the mug with concern. "You know, most people breathe between swallows."

"Bully for them," Obake said when he finished, resting the mug against his forehead and waiting for the throbbing to cease. The relentless pounding wasn't helping his usual thought process, and it was driving him nuts when every bang knocked every last thought off-kilter; he wasn't expecting to be coherent anytime soon.

The pounding had either gone down or he got used to it—he was banking on the latter—when Jian took the mug from him and refilled it, alerting him to the fact that he had been sitting like that for more than a few minutes.

"Now I know this is a stupid statement, considering who I'm saying it to, but please, at least try to stay in bed for a couple of days," Jian ordered, handing the full mug back to him. "And take it easy for a few weeks minimum—you don't want cracked ribs progressing to broken."

"That would put a damper on my day," Obake muttered, taking this mug more sedately.

"See? We agree. Also, told Momakase to suspend training with you until your ribs healed, so that might motivate you."

"Now that is actually tempting." Sip, consider his next question. "Remind me how I got to this point."

"The bit about getting the stuffing knocked out of you by a whole tribe, or the part where Felony Carl and that big dragon of yours got a good chunk of us and tore after you?"

"I understand it's not nice to pick on an invalid."

"I understand that an invalid should be resting, not trying to scurry off and hurt himself," Jian said testily. "Don't make me tie you to the bed."

That sent a bolt of ice through him, made him recall the last time he had to be tied to a bed. "I'd rather recuperate in my own house away from annoying doctors and dragons, thank you very much."

"Give me another day and I'll sign off on it. If you actually do stay in your house and recover instead of scurrying off to do a stupid, which is what I'm expecting."

"Do you mind?"

"I do, hence the dire predictions," Jian said, taking his empty mug. "And also why that cup was spiked. Say goodnight, Obake."

Obake did not, Obake instead opted for a lot of colorful language that slurred about halfway through, him trying and failing to resist being levered back into the bed. Was pretty sure he might have scored a glancing hit on Jian, but by then darkness was swooping in and he didn't remember much after that.

Jian did not actually let Obake out of the infirmary in the next couple of days.

As he kept pointing out, Obake wouldn't actually stay still and let his ribs heal, which was a fair assessment. He hated the fact that his means of keeping him still involved constantly knocking him out with drugged food or tea in increasingly sneaky ways, but as Jian assessed Obake wouldn't take his medication otherwise—again, fair. Obake hated the fog those healing medications left him in, would rather be in pain and lucid than pain-free and foggy-headed.

Even worse was the fact that Jian had help in this regard.

The blue Zippleback, which Jian had named Bikong, was constantly watching him like a hawk, keeping him from scurrying off (annoying) or Hiro hopping up on him (which wasn't appreciated). And no, he couldn't wait for the dragon to fall asleep, it was employing the sleeping habits Zipplebacks were good for where one head at a time slept, always leaving one pair of eyes on alert. It was something that made Zipplebacks hard to hunt, back when that was still a thing.

Both heads—and Hiro, who was sleeping in the next bed over as a compromise—twitched awake when his amused snort turned into a pained wheeze. Back when that was still a thing—at most that was a few months ago, despite feeling like years.

Unfortunately, the pained wheeze prompted one of the heads to bark, which summoned Jian, which resulted in him getting knocked out again.

Eventually though, when he wasn't breathing with a pained hitch, when Jian apparently detected that if he drugged him one more time he was going to kill him important asset or no, Jian allowed him to leave.

Not without stipulations, of course.

"This goes into your tea at least twice a day do not skimp on this," Jian ordered, pushing a small bag into his hands. "I will also be giving a bag to Carl and telling him to stay on you, I know how you are being in less pain now makes the recovery shorter than suffering in whatever you call clarity."

"Are you done?" Obake asked drily.

"Fish livers, greens…I'd say red meat but I know how finding that goes. Something high in calcium. Also try not to do anything strenuous for the next seven weeks or so."

"Seven weeks?" Oh that one hurt.

"That counts as strenuous," Jian said, watching him grimace. "Your ribs are cracked and we're trying to keep them from graduating to broken, which will stab your lungs and make you drown in your own blood. No I cannot set those, you break them and do that then you're just going to have to die. Bedrest. Lots and lots and lots of bedrest. Stay out of your forge. Your ribs are starting to knit together and that's the bare minimum of healing—you get too active and you're back to square one, and then I do tie you to the bed."

Twitch at that—no no no we weren't doing that again—"Fine. I'll take the stupid medication. Can I go now?"

"Only if you promise to take it easy."

"I'll stay out of my forge," he grumbled, walking off.

"That wasn't a proper confirmation!" Jian called after him.

"It's the best you're going to get!" he shot back—ow, shooting barbs back hurt too.

Actually existing hurt right now but he could hurt in his own house, away from annoying doctors and annoying dragons who were playing at being doctors. Unfortunately not away from concerned little Night Furies, those were keeping pace and warbling worriedly at him.

"I am not staying in that infirmary any longer than I absolutely have to," he told Hiro, aware of the wheezing quality of his voice right now. Yes he should probably stay in the infirmary but he had too many foul memories of that place—basically the prison he had been relegated to after his biggest failure.

Tied to the bed to keep him from hurting himself further, they said—more likely to keep him from scurrying off to let the rest of the ghosts in to kill them all, if you listened to them.

"You mean he survived that?"

"Of course he did—if he survived that blizzard as a baby then nothing could kill him."

"I bet he has an accord with the dragons and that's why they attack us."

"It looked like an awful hit though—"

"Of course that didn't kill him—you can't kill a ghost."

Obake froze at that statement, one that hadn't come from his recollections—step closer to the nearest wall, listen to the Yokai discussing him, saying that same sort of statement he had always heard come from their old tribe, back in the day. The statement he had heard when he survived the dragon attack, survived being left out in the cold—the sort of statement said with disdain, or fear.

Never pride or admiration, which is what that statement had sounded like.

But that statement, that singular statement—

That ghost the chief brought in—

It was a statement that brought back far too many awful thoughts for him to be able to handle it, skin wanting to crawl off from the foul memories it brought up, from the fact that it was said with a positive connotation—

The fact that people had bothered with getting him back, with saving him—

He was suddenly having a hard time breathing, too rapid and shallow—he—he—

He had to get out of here.

For the record, Tadashi was enjoying his time off, as Fred was stylizing it.

"So he's recovering, according to Bikong," Fred reported. "Also Bikong was kind of totally rude he's taking this healing stuff VERY seriously he's gotten as bad as Baymax."

Baymax being Healing-Talons, who had slipped in the healing-cavern a couple of times to check on Obake and Hiro, who at the very least was being obliging and staying still for once, even if it was to keep an eye on his annoying Yokai.

The annoying Yokai who had nearly torn himself up making sure that Hiro was safe.

That thought still bugged him, nattering around his head like an irritating fly as Fred and Wasabi flew off to catch some breakfast. Even Older-Light-Fury had pointed that out, and she was with him on distrusting the Yokai on principle. Everything was weird now, and he wasn't sure if he liked that concept. At least with Yokai acting like Yokai, he knew where he stood.

They're only doing that because their alpha is making them do it.

Gnaw at an itchy spot irritably—if that was the case…and yet he didn't fully believe it. There was something he was missing, some bit of the trail he had skipped somehow—

Started when Honeysuckle licked behind an eye.

"You seem troubled," she said. "Baymax and Bikong said they're healing up nicely."

"Yeah," he muttered. "It's…not that, exactly."

She made a pensive noise. "Hiro getting snatched like that again was terrifying, I get that."

This was true. "Yeah, but…it's not that exactly, either."

"So what'd I miss?" Gogo asked, lighting on the roof next to them.

"Older-Brother's trying to express his feelings," Honeysuckle reported, ignoring his aggravated hiss.

"Good luck," she huffed, as Baymax came in for a landing as well. "And what do you have to report?"

"Obake has been allowed out of the healing-cavern," Baymax said. "This is not wise—I was not given the impression that Yokai bones heal any faster than dragon bones."

"Sounds like male stupidity," Gogo said, before giving Tadashi a pointed look.

"And WHY are you looking at ME?" Tadashi demanded.

"Well there WAS that one time you ate sand on a dare," Honeysuckle pointed out, sounding amused.

"And I was younger than Little-Brother at the time EVERYONE is stupid at that age," he insisted.

"Yeah, well—" Gogo started—jerked her head up, twitched it to better see what Tadashi had caught in his peripheral vision: Obake running up to the nest.

"What is he doing?" Honeysuckle asked, sitting up to better watch his progress. "Baymax, I thought you said he needed to take it easy."

"He does," Baymax said, watching as well. "This is not good."

No it wasn't—not from anything in his actions, his desperate fleeing into the nest, nor from Hiro running after him and squeaking in concern—

Nor from him tearing back out a few minutes later, a carry-thing in one arm and the saddle in the other as he looked up at them, skull-face flickering.

"Get me out of here," he begged, frantic. "Anywhere but here. Please."

They exchanged startled glances at that—what—why—

The sheer emotion radiating off of the Yokai—so at odds with everything he had seen from him before—was what finally made Tadashi ease down onto the ground next to him, sniffing at him with worry as he tried to put the saddle on, as fast as creaking ribs would allow.

"Little-Brother," Tadashi noised. "What's going on?"

"I-I don't know," Hiro said, trembling from worry. "It was—we were walking through the nest and then—he heard some of the other Yokai say something and it just—like—I don't know what—"

So he wasn't the only one totally confused at this. Offered no resistance at Obake climbing on his back, tapping for Hiro to follow, repeating his…it wasn't an order. It was him begging. Something had rattled him. Something bad.

They needed to find out what.

Tadashi looked at the others. "Find out what did this. If we're not back in a couple of hours, come find us." Bound for the nearest cliff, launch into a shallow ascent to keep from jostling him too badly—flew faster at the simple command. Something about the nest had spooked the alpha Yokai badly.

Glancing back, he hoped it wasn't anything bad.

Gogo watched as Tadashi swiftly became a small black blot on the horizon.

"What could have made him act like that?" Honey Lemon asked, concerned—flicked an ear as Gogo stood and shook her spines out, looked at her as she leaped and coasted to the next nest. "Where are you going?"

"To get my Yokai and go after him," she said.

"But Older-Brother asked us to wait."

"He also asked us to find the source of Obake's distress," Baymax pointed out.

Gogo snorted. "A couple hours' flight for him is a day or more for me. And I already know what's bothering Obake."

Both of them started at that. "What? What is it?" Honey Lemon asked.

"It's hard to explain. But he doesn't need to be alone for this."

Hence her coasting low over the Yokai-nest, scanning for a flash of blue, diving down into a hard landing and trying to keep from just bowling Momakase over in her haste. "Hey what—"

"Ah, see? I TOLD you she'd warm up to the concept," Fred said, nudging Wasabi.

Gogo snorted at them, currently in this little clearing with their two pet Yokai, if they could call them that—went back to nudging Momakase before sitting down next to her in a way that said she wanted that stupid saddle on, come on. Tadashi would be completely out of sight soon!

"What's gotten into you?" Momakase demanded, confused—oi this would be simpler if they both spoke Dragonese. No wait—

"You're finally embracing the awesomeness that is our two flights partnering?" Fred asked—okay now she could see why he picked the Yokai he did considering it asked the same inane question.

"Obake's gone," Honey Lemon said, landing near them. "He got on Tadashi and asked him to fly him off—we don't know what's going on, he just seemed upset."

"Maybe he needs some alone time?" Wasabi suggested. "I mean he seems like that kind of guy."

Honey Lemon shook her head. "No—no this seems worse."

Yes, which was the point of trying to get Momakase moving—finally stand, write Obake in the dirt with her tail, point her body like an arrow at the black shape fading fast.

The Yokai finally looked. "Okay so I'm thinking that might be Tadashi," Dibs said. "Except why is he flying off? Usually he sticks around."

"Unless…." Carl got it, exchanged glances with Momakase, who looked at Gogo, who was already crouching down.

"Good, you get it. Now get on," Gogo ordered.

Tadashi had disappeared by the time the Yokai were done scrambling around, Momakase buckling her saddle on as Carl tied carry-things to the back—she was pretty sure she could haul it all, but it would slow her down a little…she was going to have to use every tracking trick she had to keep up, she realized.

"I packed the tea Jian wants him drinking," Carl told Momakase as she climbed on. "At least two cups a day."

"Yeah sure whatever," Momakase said, strapping herself in as Gogo stood up.

"Right. And 'Kase? Be careful."

Gogo glanced back at the twitch that prompted, saw Momakase make a dismissive motion that was too quick to be sincerely so. "Always am."

Okay that was enough—launch into the air, flapping hard in the direction Tadashi had gone.

She had a lot of work ahead of her as far as catching up was concerned.