a coma's just a really long nap, right?

Hero's gravely injured in a fight against Supervillain and they need to recover, somewhere out of the prying eye of the public. Somewhere secure. Somewhere private. Somewhere with a lot of technical and advanced medical equipment. Their first thought isn't a hospital, and a hospital still isn't private enough for Hero's needs, so where do they end up? At Villain's doorstep, mumbling that they had nowhere else to go. Conversely, Villain takes them in but only on the condition that Hero surrenders themselves to them, and Hero's in too bad of a state to disagree.

When Whumpees take something down with them as they collapse: a table cloth, a chair, a mannequin, a sign or banner, an end table, another person...

Whumpee takes a blow for another member of the team, and is scolded for their recklessness and inability to care about themselves. So the next time Whumpee sees an opportunity to jump in front of a teammate and deflect a blow... they don't take it, and are scolded for being selfish. Bonus: the teammate is permanently out of commission because of this (whether by injury or death), and Whumpee has to deal with the guilt on top of everything else. Conversely, Whumpee's so mad about nothing they do being good enough that they feel very little guilt at all, just rage and the want to blame Teammate's death on their leader.

Caretaker, who's been mostly stoic throughout the entire ordeal, finally breaks down begging and pleading for Whumpee to wake up as they're lowering Whumpee's coffin.

Caretaker hasn't seen Whumpee in a few days. Concerning, yes, but Whumpee does that sort of thing. They like to vanish, don't want to be touched or coddled or contacted, and Caretaker just has to stifle their anxieties and force a smile when Whumpee finally decides to come home again. Caretaker's on their phone, bored out of their mind. So much so that they stare at their full voice mailbox and decide that the old thing finally needs some clearing out. They start from the very back and it's just spam mail, bill collectors, the parent they don't talk to, etc., etc. Except for the last 6. The last six are from Whumpee, and tell a horrible story of why Whumpee didn't make it home. The 6th is a Whumpee's desperate, sobbing pleas for Caretaker to pick up and help them, and then — it cuts off, and there's nothing else.

Whumpee wistfully mentions that they've never been able to have their favorite cake, and Caretaker immediately assumes that no one's ever made it for them. They decide to fix that immediately and spend hours searching, baking, and decorating a gorgeous cake, just in time for Whumpee's birthday. Whumpee eagerly takes a giant slice once they hear it's their favorite, only to panic one they taste it. There's a reason they've never had their real favorite cake... it's because they're allergic to one of the key ingredients.

Caretaker is holding a critically injured Whumpee in their arms, frantically searching for anything in their supplies that could help. They don't have anything... except for an item that revives the dead. Caretaker either has to wait until Whumpee succumbs to their wounds to use it... or, they have to kill Whumpee themselves.

Caretaker is missing, dead, or otherwise no longer around, and slowly their presence starts to disappear from Whumpee's place. Clothes no longer smell like them, their stray, left-behind things are put away, and the last item is Caretaker's favorite coffee mug, something that they just couldn't bear to part with. One day, when a sick Whumpee is trying to make themselves a warm drink, they reach for the mug, but it slips through their weakened grasp and shatters.

A society of magic-users comes into their power at a random age, suddenly wracked by a terrible illness and pain as the once-dormant magic spreads through the body. Many are overwhelmed by the intense side effects this brings and die, and only the most resilient (or luckiest) of mages survive to embrace their new power. Whumpee is notorious for their horrible immune system and fragility, and all of their loved ones have quietly worried for the day their powers would manifest. That day has finally, unfortunately arrived.

It's hot, hot, hot, and Caretaker's decided to do some work outside, enlisting Whumpee to help them. Caretaker's normally such a buttoned-up person in terms of their appearance, but today they've worn something much more revealing to cope with the heat... and Whumpee is transfixed. So transfixed, that they forget to keep track of their own well-being and end up with heat exhaustion. Whoops. Well, at least Caretaker can look after them now, outfit included.

I said whumpees who are stubborn yesterday but hear me out: caretakers who are stubborn. Caretakers who believe they know what they're doing 100% and won't take anyone else's opinion on how to treat Whumpee. Caretakers who you can never pick an argument with because they'll always win by sheer bullheaded volition. Caretakers who will drag Whumpee back to bed if they try to escape, caretakers who do not make threats, they make promises. Caretakers who are so set in dated ways that they end up causing more harm than good. Caretakers who would be perfect if they could be even remotely reasoned or worked with. Caretakers with such a reputation even Whumper hesitates to deal with them.

I love it when a Whumpee is stubborn. When they know they're about to collapse. When they know they're too sick to push through. When they've been trying for hours to escape their bonds. I love it when they're staring defeat straight in the face and they spit at it and keep going. Even if it's only another step, it's the fact that they tried.