𝐻𝓊𝓇𝓉/𝒸𝑜𝓂𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓉

“You look like shit.”

“Are you sure you can’t walk?”

“Don’t you think this is all a little dramatic?”

“If you had been more careful, none of this would’ve happened.”

“I don’t care what the doctors say. You’re [working, going back to school, getting back into sport, etc.] as soon as you leave these doors.”

But caretaker does. Caretaker is standing in the corner, their anger steadily rising watching Whumpee lay completely defenseless and unaware that they’re getting completely chewed into. And eventually it just spills over.

“Get out.” Caretaker says, voice low and cold as they stand.

“What? I’m just visiting.” Whumper responds, raising his hands in surrender.

Caretaker walks in front of poor Whumpee’s bed, in between them and Whumper.

“Go, you’re not helping. Before I call security.”

Whumper eventually does, but doesn’t fail to complain about how caretaker is being so overbearing, and that it’s just simple banter. Whumpee just looks up at caretaker, eyes big and glazed over and so, so innocent.

The idea of turning a Whumpee against everything they’ve ever known. Using fond memories, drugging them up so they can’t tell fiction from reality, and then brutally torturing them to make those memories into nightmares.

And then Whumpee is handed over to caretaker. After disappearing for weeks. They look noticeably different. Cheeks hollowed from starvation, bruises mottling their body, lightning-shaped scars from being shocked.

“Whumee?” Caretaker approaches too quickly, trying to pull them into a hug.

“Oh—I’m so glad you’re—“

Bathing Whump

(Gif from Izombs on Pinterest)

🫧 Whumpee pressing their head against the shower tile, trying to stop themselves from passing out under the hot water

🫧 Caretaker washing Whumpee’s hair when they are too weak to do it themselves.

🫧 caretaker using the shower as a break from caring for Whumpee and then feeling guilty about it

🫧 Whumpee falling asleep in the shower. It’s the only place they feel safe.

🫧 Whumpee showering as quickly as possible—achingly aware of Whumper’s impatience.

🫧 Caretaker and Whumpee bathing together once Whumpee is comfortable enough with their scars.

Caretaker pushes a plate of warm, homemade comfort food towards Whumpee. Sitting on the floor with them.

“This used to be your favorite.” Caretaker says gently, they don’t miss how Whumpee flinches when the plate is pushed towards them, how they look at it like it’s something they don’t deserve.

Caretaker also doesn’t miss how gaunt Whumpee looked when they were rescued. The sharp definition in their cheekbones, the ribs that protruded slightly out of their wounded skin, the hollowness in their exhausted eyes.

And now, even weeks later, Whumpee still doesn’t look at food the same.

Caretaker tried not to push—they really didn’t—but frustration and grief spills over for a moment when they see Whumpee insist that they aren’t hungry.

Hospital Whump

🩹 Whumpee shivering in the cold hospital rooms despite being under so many blankets

🩹 Whumpee—high on pain meds—clinging to Caretaker like they’re the only thing tethering them to the world

🩹 Caretaker sleeping by Whumpee’s side in cold plastic hospital chairs. (Or Caretaker falling asleep half sitting, half laying on the bed with Whumpee in their arms

🩹 Whumpee in a haze of delirium trying to pull wires out of their skin

🩹 sedation.

🩹 Caretaker holding Whumpee’s hands as wounds are tended to

🩹 Caretaker gently spoon-feeding Whumpee soup from the hospital cafeteria

-Whumpee trying to swallow and feelings knives in their throat

-Whumpee not knowing if they can’t breathe because they’re panicking or can’t breathe because their throat is closing up

-Caretaker desperately trying to figure out how to work an Epi-pen because Whumpee is too panicked or not conscious enough to do it themselves

-The panic only gets worse when the injection is given. It’s straight epinephrine so poor Whumpee is just shaking