#implied rescue

Warnings: referenced captivity, referenced torture, implied rescue

Caretaker sat on their couch, bottle of bourbon in hand. Ever since Whumper took Whumpee, Caretaker hadn’t been able to motivate themself to do anything. Hadn’t been able to leave the house. Hadn’t been able to get over that their shortcomings led to Whumpee being taken. Hadn’t been able to stop imagining all the pain and suffering Whumpee was enduring at Whumper’s hand. 

And so they sat and drank. Sat and cried. Sat and did nothing to get Whumpee back. 

Teammate One burst through Caretaker’s door. “What are you doing? We need to get going!”

“Why? There’s nothing to be done.” Caretaker’s voice was thick with tears. They were always crying now. 

“Ah!”

A few labored shuddering breaths and then a laugh bubbles up, unbidden and full of relief.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, hurting me like I’m nothing.”

“Excuse me? You are nothing. In fact, for defying me, you’ll get this-”

Crash! Dozens of footstep thundering.

“What is this?”

A quiet, exhausted laugh.

“It’s your punishment. I told someone what was happening to me when you weren’t looking and they amassed a group to get me out and punish you. I suggest you start running if you don’t want to suffer like I did by your hand.”

A chorus of voices in unison.

“WHUMPER!” “Whumper!” “Whumper!” “WHUMPER.”

“Once I get you back, you’re dead, Whumpee.”

“Oh Whumper, I’ll never be with you again. They’ll make sure of that.”

“Fuck you.”

Whumpee sighed, letting their shoulders relax. For once the night was quiet and peaceful. Long gone were there screams of agony or crying pleas that rang dead into the endless void.

Shifting closer to Caregiver, they let themselves go, resting their head on their shoulder, calmly taking in the city's lights.

It was over now.

“Please.” The caregiver’s voice was soft and kind. Their touch; gentle. They pull the blanket over, cuddling closer to the whumpee. “Please don’t leave?”

Whumpee’s world swirled around them. Their body was much heavier than before, and that was probably because of the vague memory Whumpee had of Whumper hitting them in the head with something and then everything went a little wonky.

There was a name for what Whumpee was experiencing, but the word escaped them in the swirl of everything.

Their arms were trapped behind their back, bound to their feet and they also had a gag in their mouth to keep them from talking. There was a name for it as well, but the word again escaped Whumpee.

Hogtied.

Ah, that was the word. Why couldn’t they move their arms again? Why were they so heavy? Why did their stomach hurt a lot more than it should?