Hiding The Wounds

Summary: Written for Jen425 as part of the FandomGiftBox exchange. Adam’s injured after a fight. Tommy comes to see him
Warning(s): Spoilers for Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers; some references to violence
Pairing: Tommy Oliver/Adam Park

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Adam limped in through the back door of his home, relieved that his father wasn’t home. He wasn’t sure how he’d be able to hide his bruises and twisted ankle from his father before his accelerated healing kicked in.

Trouble was, the healing wasn’t kicking in. The fight had been over for more than an hour and the pain was still just as intense as when his ankle had been kicked. He couldn’t see the bruises on his face, but the ones on his arms were more vivid than they had been. And all of the bruises throbbed with equal intensity.

Closing the door behind him, Adam headed through to the kitchen and opened the freezer door. He pulled out a pack of frozen peas and then moved, slowly and carefully, through to the main room. Collapsing onto the couch, he stretched his injured foot out onto the coffee table and pressed the bag against his ankle.

Sharp pain shot through him and he bit his lip so that he wouldn’t cry out. So that he wouldn’t whimper. It didn’t matter right now, but he was going to have to get used to hiding how much he hurt. The last thing he needed was to let his father think that his friends were a bad influence and to forbid him from seeing them.

By the time a loud knock came on the door, the frozen peas had helped enough that his ankle felt numb, even if it was still a bit sore. He thought about ignoring the person, whoever it was. He didn’t really feel up to visitors at the moment and if he ignored them, they’d probably give up and eventually go away.

The knock came again and Adam sighed. He let his head drop back against the couch, stared at the ceiling and muttered, “Why me?” Then, with another long-suffering sigh, he pushed himself up off the couch and limped out of the main room, heading along the hallway and towards the front door on unsteady feet.

When he opened the door, he paused and frowned as he saw Tommy standing outside. He glanced down at his transmitter, strapped to his wrist, and tapped it gently before asking, “Do you need me? The communicator didn’t beep.”

“I was worrying about you.” Tommy’s eyes narrowed as they swept over Adam’s body. “You’re still bruised.”

“And my ankle’s still sore.” Adam stepped back from the door, allowing Tommy to enter the house and close the door behind him. “Get you anything? Soda? Chips?”

“You don’t need to grab me anything, bro.” Tommy quickly moved forward, grasping Adam’s elbow. “You should be sitting down. Resting.”

“I shouldn’t need to rest,” Adam protested, although he allowed his friend to guide him into the main room. He sat down onto the chair and picked up the bag of peas again, pressing it against his ankle once more. “I should be on my feet and fighting fit by now. Should have been before this,” he added, muttering the words under his breath. “If you want anything, help yourself. The kitchen’s at the other end of the hall.” He pointed in the direction.

“You want a soda?” Tommy walked over to the doorway, but didn’t slip out immediately.

Adam nodded wearily. “There’re some cans in the fridge. Grab one for me and for you.” He let out a harsh breath as his ankle throbbed.

“Thanks, man.” Tommy walked out of the room and it wasn’t long before he was back, carrying several items in his arms. He handed a can of Cola to Adam and then set his own can down on the other coffee table. He crouched down on the floor and then glanced up at Adam. “Trust me?”

“Without question,” Adam answered.

Tommy nodded and smiled. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He put a wrapped up tea towel down and then carefully unlaced and removed Adam’s sneaker, pulling it free along with his sock. He then pressed the tea towel in place against the ankle. “It’s a bit more bearable if you wrap it in a towel or something before icing your injury.”

“Curious how you know that,” Adam commented.

Tommy gave the barest hint of a smile. “This ain’t my first rodeo.” He secured the tea towel in place and then settled in place on the couch next to Adam. He popped open his can and drank deeply.

Adam did the same, drinking about half of the ice cold can before he set it back down. “So am I the only person who’s stuck in recovery after the battle?” He couldn’t help the note of embarrassment that slipped into his voice. He also couldn’t hide the worry that crept into his gut. Was something wrong with him? He’d never questioned or second-guessed his decision to become a Power Ranger, but was he growing weak or something? Why wasn’t he healing as well as he used to be able to?

Tommy placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly. “I didn’t notice anyone limping after the battle, but I think you bore the brunt of the monster’s attacks.” A reassuring note crept into his voice as he said, “Give it a night’s sleep and rest up. You’ll be fine.”

“And what if I’m not?” Adam shook his head and drank the rest of the contents, staring morosely at the empty can. “What if I don’t recover? If I don’t bounce back?” He swallowed hard. “Today, I got bruises and a sprained ankle. What if next time, I break a leg? An arm?” He shook his head. “What if we go into battle and I don’t come home? I can’t do that to my dad, man.”

Tommy sat in silence for a few moments, but he didn’t pull his hand away. He kept it in place, gently squeezing Adam’s shoulder. Finally, he asked, “Does that mean you want to give up the responsibility?”

“God no.” Adam laughed, though there was little humour in it. “Even if I tried, I wouldn’t be able to give it up. You know how it is, bro. I can’t go back to being on the sidelines. Not like before. It would kill me inside.”

“Yeah, I know.” Tommy nudged him gently in the side. “If you’re not recovering after resting up, we’ll ask Zordon. Maybe it’s something to do with the monster that attacked. Doesn’t mean it’s a weakness in the Power Coin. Or a weakness in you,” he added, his voice much lower.

“I don’t think it’s a weakness in me.” Adam could hear how weak his voice sounded.

Tommy snorted softly. “I know better than that, man. I know how easy it is to think there’s something wrong with you. Think that you’ve done something wrong.” His hand shifted from Adam’s shoulder to the side of his face, encouraging him to look into his eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You sure about that?” Adam whispered.

Tommy leaned forward and brushed a gentle, tentative kiss against Adam’s lips. Then, he pulled back, slowly. “Not one single thing,” he promised.

“Do that again?” Adam whispered.

Tommy’s grin was wide and happy as he leaned forward and kissed Adam again, this time a more firm press of lips that Adam returned with interest.

He didn’t feel the pain from his injuries any longer.

The End