Work Text:
Tango had become quite productive for someone in his predicament. Thanks to Ren crafting a ‘prosthetic’ of carved wood and a snippet of a belt, Tango could clip it onto the broom, mop, and feather-duster they had
He couldn't squeeze the mop out too well with his forearms, but with his leg’s stump holding the dustpan down, he could sweep just fine. And when something was too tall to dust, he'd use the broom. And with the months of practice he's got in using his bare stumps, he could shake out welcome mats, organize tables, counters, couches— anything he could reach. He even had a rope around the belt loops on his pants, which had a loop just big enough for his arm to stick through and get leverage on to pull the pants down.
Everything stated, he was independent. With a simple belt snippet and silverware stuck through, tied just above his stump, he could eat himself. He didn't need them to do anything but put them on, and he was pulling his own weight by keeping the house clean.
Though, everyone still had their bad days. Tango's bad days were just really, really painful.
So painful that he was lying on his back half under a blanket, eyes closed, body relaxed, trying to fall back asleep.
Jimmy got up after some time, rattling the bed and Tango's sorry, broken body. At least it felt that way. Jimmy must've heard his groan because he took the few steps to reach Tango’s side of the bed and rested a reassuring hand on his calf.
“Tango?”
Tango paused, then groaned again, louder this time, covering his face with his arms. “You can just leave me alone. Please.”
“You're in pain.” Jimmy stated, and sat beside his legs.
“Yeah.” Tango agreed, sounding exhausted. “Just gimme.. twenty more minutes.”
“You don't have to get up, Tango.”
“I wanna.”
“You wanna do work. If you need rest, you should rest.”
“I don't need rest! It's this stupid phantom pain!” Tango hadn’t purposely raised his voice. He sighed to calm himself down. “I'm used to it. Don't worry about me.”
“I'll worry about whoever I want!” Jimmy defended. “Can I hug you!”
All Tango had to give Jim was a ‘Ye’ formation of his lips for a body to fall atop him full-force, arms wrapping around his torso.
Tango let his arms fall upon Jimmy, almost as reaction, his elbows bending to mimic a hug as close as possible.
After a minute of comforting silence, Jimmy let up, and gave Tango a pat on his shoulder. “I'll get Doc, cause he'll know what to do.”
“I know what to do, Jim. I'm hurting, I'm gonna sit here ‘til I feel up to getting up.”
Hearing that, Jimmy contorted his eyebrows in concern. “You sure? Cause I can get Ren or Doc anytime.”
“So can I. They'll come if I call.” Tango chuckled at Jimmy's.. worry for him. at his pity. (Tango rather chuckle than cry about his predicament, to be completely honest.)
Jimmy chuckled, too. “Yeah. Sorry.”
“It's fine. You're trying.” Tango told him, and when Jimmy kept giving him those doe eyes, Tango made a ‘woosh’ punching sound as he slow-mo punched Jimmy in the face with his right stump.
Jimmy chuckled, grabbed Tango's elbow, and pushed it down. Tango was obviously forced to give him a (fake) left hook. Right hook, punch punch punch.
Tango was smiling through the pain, being playful in spite of his non-existent extremities. Meanwhile, Jimmy was giggling and pretending to be beat up. Guy things.