#queueing for whump

when the caretaker or team leader is putting on a brave face, saying everything will be okay. the whumpee still looks worried, so the caretaker pulls them in for a hug.

then, over the whumpee's shoulder, the caretaker's brave expression falters and they show how hard they're trying to keep it together (jaw clench, closing their eyes, lips pressed tight so they don't cry), but only while the whumpee can't see them.

as soon as they pull apart from the hug, the caretaker has their brave mask back on again.

Please imagine a whumpee who gets frozen to the core, maybe they got caught in a rainstorm, maybe they got lost in the snow, maybe some bullies pushed them in a freezing pond, etc.

and then they get home, dreaming of a hot bath and steaming cocoa, except the house is freezing and there's no hot water. they have no fire so they end up:

- wrapped in blankets and shivering convulsively, unable to get warm

- lugging bucket after bucket of boiled water up to the bath, ending up sitting in six inches of water, their teeth chattering in the frigid bathroom

- have to go to a neighbour they hate to beg for more blankets, or to use their shower

- a friend comes round to check on them and finds the whumpee cold and sick, in a house with no heating

caretaker can't tell whumpee that they won't hurt them. can't tell them that when caretaker sighs because they're tired and whumpee flinches away, that they aren't angry. can't say that they locked the whumpee's door because they're afraid the whumpee will hurt themself.

and caretaker can't warn them either, about their friends visiting, or how they need to take whumpee to the doctor, or that the knife they just pulled out is to cut the tracker chip from whumpee's arm so they can't be found by their previous owner, not because they want to torture the whumpee.

I'm used to repressing my feelings. I even learned to force a smile. That's right. I just need to go back to my old self. No ups and downs, live quietly. That's how I should be.

"I didn't do it! I didn't do it, I swear!" [A] screams.

Master backhands them, snarling, "You say that, and yet every time something goes wrong, who's responsible?"

"Please!" [A] begs on their knees, "I didn't steal it, it's not my fault, please believe me!"

[B] lurks in the shadows, watching on with a smirk. In their hand is the ring Master couldn't find, the ring [A] was responsible for taking to be polished.

A+ Sam and Dean whump at the start of this (medical whump, seizure, broken bone, drugged), plus Benny looking dapper in a suit.

Dean: Dude. Where's the pie?

Sam: I got cake. Close enough right?

'It's not you who should be doing the thanking, sir, but me. You saved my life, you suffered an injury in my defence. And me? What did I do? I bandaged a wounded man, who'd fainted away, and put him on my cart and didn't leave him to expire. It's an ordinary matter, Witcher, sir.'

'It's not so ordinary, Yurga. I've been left... in similar situations... Like a dog...'