X-Men One-Shots and Preferences

Stubborn Back Pain- Warren Worthington

You know, I've been thinking about Warren's wings and how big they are. I imagine they might cause him some back pain every now and again considering how heavy they might be. Maybe he might experience a muscle spasm that causes him pain but he's too stubborn to ask for help from anyone about it.

Some swearing here and there. Enjoy.

"Ow! Shit!" you hear a familiar voice from across your dorm room, interrupting your reading. You ignore it at first, knowing Warren wouldn't ask for help right away or at all, but the swearing continued which made you grow somewhat concerned.
Putting your book away, you walk across the hall and knock on the door.

"Warren?" you call out. There was no answer, so you knock again a little louder. "Warren, can you please open the door?" "Huh? What?" You hear Warren's voice from the other side, "(y/n)?" "Yeah, it's me," you confirm, "Is everything okay in there, you sound hurt." "Don't come in!" he insists from the other side before you could turn the knob. "Oh," you say, "You sure? I mean I could hear you swearing from the other side like you were hurt or something. Whatever it is I'm sure I can help-" "I said don't fucking come in here!" he exclaims again. You sigh a little in annoyance, knowing he was just trying to be strong when he didn't need to be. "Warren, come on. You clearly need help, and since there's no one else to offer assistance right now, I really think I should come in there."

"It's not just that," Warren admits, "I'm...I'm not exactly decent." "I've seen you without a shirt before," you scoff a little, knowing Warren wasn't exactly one for modesty. Especially when it came to going without a shirt for days on end so his wings could properly stretch and air themselves out. "I'm not wearing more than just a shirt," he elaborates. You could hear running water on the other side which indicated he was probably in the middle of taking a shower. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, realizing he was definitely more than shirtless right now.
"Okay then, why don't I walk in backwards and you tell me where you're at?" you offer for a compromise. "That won't be necessary," Warren assures, "Just give me a moment."

You wait until he gives you the go to enter his dorm room. You walk in, and head for the bathroom door, which was closed. "You sure I can come in?" you ask one more time. "It's fine," he confirms. You open that door to find the blonde angel sprawled out on the bathroom floor,  laying on his stomach, wings spread out, and the water was still running. "Oh my god, Warren, what happened?" you ask with concern as you turn off the water. The injured mutant in question was using the shower curtain to cover everything from the waist down. "I uh," he begins, sounding embarrassed as he tries to explain, "I think I fucked up my back." "How?" you frown a little, wondering how that was possible. "I uh, I dropped the soap," he answers, "I bent over to pick it up..." "And....?" "And that was it," he admits, "There was this massive pain in my back and next thing I knew, I couldn't get up, and uh...here I am." "And what made you decide to use the shower curtain to wrap around in?" you further question. "I couldn't reach for the towel in the state I'm in," he replies.

"Okay," you sigh as you assess the situation before you, "This isn't going to be pleasant, but let's try getting you to your bed, and you can rest while I can get a pack of ice afterwards." You reach down to help him up, but he stops you, "don't, I can do this on my own." "Warren, don't be ridiculous," you lecture, "you are in no condition to be trying to stand on your own." Warren just ignores you and places his hands down in an attempt to lift himself off the floor. You lean by the sink and cross your arms, practically waiting for him to give up and ask for help. Surprisingly, he did almost get on his feet, but the pain emanating from his back would become unbearable and he'd be back to square on, face down on the floor.

At this point, you got tired of waiting. "Come on," you say as you just yank an arm around your shoulder. "Ow, ow, ow, watch it," he protests as you help him to his feet, "Just...take it slow, I'm not exactly stable right now." "We're just getting you to bed," you tell him, "One baby step at a time."
It took some time, but after some encouragement on your part, you finally managed to get him to the edge of his bed, "Okay," you say, "I'm gonna lay you on your back right now." "Wait," he stops you, "not yet. Count to three first so I'll be ready for the pain ahead." "Okay," you nod. He starts to count, but at two, you flip around and get him on the bed, on his back. A string of curses followed as his wings stretched over, "What the hell, (y/n), what happened to on three?!" "It was best to do it unexpectedly, so you wouldn't seize up," you shrug, "Look, try and get some rest. If things don't change, we'll take you to med bay and see if Dr. McCoy can whip something up for the back pain." "No, no, trust me, McCoy won't be needed," Warren insists, "All I need is some bed rest, and I'll be back on my feet in the morning." "You sure?" you raise and eyebrow. "I'll be fine," he assures, "I'm tougher than I look. A little back pain won't hold me down."
You weren't convinced in the slightest, but you get him an ice pack and head back to your own room to get some rest of your own.