A nerd's vault

“Hey, hey!” Sidekick cried as a highlighter-yellow snake struck a rabbit that was missing a hind leg. They snatched up the snake by its belly and pried the squeaking rabbit from its jaws. “No. No more. You let him go!”

The snake writhed. Sidekick only tightened their grip on the creature as they examined the panting rabbit. They ignored the way the snake wrapped its tail around their arm and poised to strike at their unprotected neck. 

“Pay attention.” Hero jabbed their arm in the way just as the snake struck. They could feel the venom dripping into their veins and tainting their blood. It burned more than any bite they’d had before. Though they didn’t say a word, they knew the venom had been part of whatever twisted experiment Scientist had been playing with.

Sidekick threw the snake back into one of the cages and slammed the door closed. “What the hell, Hero? It was fine. You know I’ve built up an immunity to most poisons.”

“Poisons and venom are not the same. I won’t risk losing you, too.” Hero picked up Scientist and slammed the door code into the panel. “We’re leaving. They can’t get out of this room. Let animal control handle the rest.”

“Wait! Don’t go. We need to—” The door closing cut off whatever else they were going to say.

——0——

Hero didn’t have to wonder how many more times they would have to do this. Didn’t have to question how many more people would betray them. There were only two people left.

Once Sidekick decided they’d had enough of Hero pushing themselves to fill the spaces other people had left wide open, they would leave. They would take all of the backup and support people with them. Hero would be lucky if they left a single chair and the wifi router. Sidekick would slander their name and make sure no one trusted them to save them again. 

After they left, it would only be a matter of time before Mentor gave up on them. They would tell Hero that they had wasted their time. The years spent training Hero were of no use if they couldn’t save people. Mentor would leave them to find someone worth their effort. 

At least when Mentor leaves, there won’t be reporters at the door asking what happened. There might be some attention with Sidekick’s exit, but Mentor wouldn’t make a show of it.

Granted, based on the way Hero’s arm hurts, they might not need to bother.

They could feel their heartbeat down their arm and across their chest. Whatever the venom was doing, it was bad. While they gave their report to the police, they could feel blisters forming along their veins where they had been bitten. 

Reporters didn’t notice the bandages they’d haphazardly wrapped around them growing dark as they pressed the swollen skin and released the acid-tainted blood held inside. 

Hero was almost proud that they were able to keep a straight face as they shook hands with the civilians gathered to watch. No one knew the venom in their blood was spreading until the skin of their arm was nearly destroyed.

Somehow, they managed not to flinch when Sidekick appeared at their side. “Thank you for your loyalty, everyone! Hero is doing everything they can to keep the people of this city safe. Please excuse us while we continue our work.”

Hero hated that the tension in their shoulders visibly eased as Sidekick moved to their good side before grabbing their arm and dragging them away.

“This way.” Sidekick pulled Hero away from the offices and the mountains of paperwork they knew were waiting for them. 

With the way the world was starting to spin, Hero knew they didn’t have long before they were completely incapacitated. They needed to get as much work done as they could while they still could. Anything to avoid giving Sidekick a reason to leave them faster. 

They pulled weakly against the hand gripping their arm. “Thanks for the help. I need to—”

“Shut the hell up, Hero.” Sidekick’s hold turned bruising. “I thought we talked about this self-sacrificial…” 

Hero didn’t bother to ask them to finish the trailed-off sentence. They followed where they were led, head down and breathing slowly through their nose to stave off a wave of sickness threatening their stomach. Chances were, throwing up on their shoes would only make Sidekick even angrier at them.

It was sad. The building was so quiet now. All the voices had left them. Even their own.

Only there were still people present. It seemed like every person left in the building was running circles in Scientist’s lab. A dead rabbit was at the center of everyone’s attention. Its side and back had completely corroded away down a line to its missing hind leg.

“Chair!” Sidekick called into the room. They pushed Hero toward it when one of the remaining members of Medic’s team sat one in front of the wall of cages. “Sit. Take off your shirt.”

“Why?” 

“Mentor! You were right. I need you.”

Hero chuckled. They hadn’t even been told Mentor had returned. Yet, here they were, speaking with hushed voices and wild arms with an overly frazzled Sidekick. 

When Mentor abruptly tugged on their sleeve cuff, Hero couldn’t help but jump. They didn’t like the look on Mentor’s face as their old teacher asked, “You haven’t given up on us yet, have you, Hero? Come on. Shirt off for us.”

“Why?” 

Sidekick grabbed Hero’s jaw and forced them to look up into their eyes. “Because you’re dying. I’m not going to lose another friend because you won’t let us even try to help you. Take it off. And that stupid bandage, too.” 

Mentor pulled Sidekick’s hand from Hero’s face with their other hand helping keep the younger hero-in-training upright. Neither of them could meet Hero’s gaze as someone rolled over a cart too tall for Hero to see into.

As Mentor selected a pair of scissors from the tray, Sidekick reached for the hem of Hero’s shirt. Both Hero’s hands locked around Sidekick’s wrists and tore them away from their clothes. 

“Don’t.” Hero snapped to their feet. One of the building security guards was there in an instant, their arm across Hero’s chest. Pushing against the wall of muscle was pointless in their current state. “Please, just don’t.” 

“Don’t what? Save your life?” Sidekick asked as the guard helped Hero sit back on the chair. 

“Pretend like you’re not planning to betray me, too.” Hero gasped when their arm rested against the chair. It hurt. It hurt so bad. “Don’t leave me like this. I… I don’t want to do this alone.”

The medics tried several different tactics to get them to go back to their uncomfortable cot, but none of them worked. Leaving Caretaker’s meal on the far side of the bed meant the meal went uneaten. They had recovered enough to fight anyone, including Friend, who tried to carry them away from their vigil physically. Not to mention that the years of… training… meant Caretaker instantly woke from even the deepest sleep the moment someone entered the room.

“Please, Caretaker.” Friend begged as Caretaker bent with their head between their knees. Nausea and coughing weren’t a good combination, and Caretaker wouldn’t risk any of their germs getting on Whumpee. “It’s 6 feet away. You’ll be between them and the door. Just… lie down. You’re still sick.”

Caretaker didn’t bother with a response. They never did. Words were unnecessary when their point was made by sitting silently. 

—000—

When Whumpee started to show signs of waking up, Caretaker could barely stand to let even the Medics close enough to take Whumpee’s vitals. They refused to fail to protect them again. Never again. Caretaker would die first.

But Whumpee didn’t wake up. 

—000—

Friend sat on the edge of Whumpee’s bed, ignoring how Caretaker growled at them. “Do you understand, Caretaker? The last day of the trial is today. In just a few hours, the judge will announce Whumper’s sentence for their crimes. You should come with me. Please?”

Caretaker settled further into their uncomfortable chair and resumed stroking their gloved thumb over Whumpee’s hand. Even through the latex gloves, they could feel how cold Whumpee’s skin was. They would have to ask for another blanket when a medic came through. 

—000—

Shaky hands adjusted the way Whumpee’s IV was resting. Caretaker had found themselves struggling not to vomit when Whumpee’s ventilator was removed. Even though it had been nearly an hour since it had happened, stress continued to roll down Caretaker’s spine in salty sweat drops. If only the thin blanket they had clenched tightly around their freezing shoulders was enough to soak it all up and keep them from feeling like they were drowning in a freezing river of water.

They startled when a hand brushed across their brow.

“Your fever is back. You’ve undone all the progress you’d made. Are you happy?” Friend asked.

“No.”

Friend jumped at the whispered response. “Please, Caretaker. Lie down for an hour, a few minutes, I don’t care how long, just take a step back and let yourself heal.”

“I can’t!” Caretaker yelled as loudly as their hoarse lungs would allow. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Friend’s voice didn’t seem argumentative or angry. There was too much hope left in their eyes for that.

“I can’t. I don’t deserve it.”

“Don’t deserve what? Help me understand. Show me what I can do to help you.”

Caretaker shook their head. “There’s nothing groundbreaking about it. I can’t leave them. Not this time. I won’t.”

Humming a questioning sound, Friend knelt in front of Caretaker. Much to both of their surprise, Caretaker didn’t complain when Friend shifted the chair to kneel face to face with them at Caretaker’s feet. 

“I won’t lose them, too. I made a promise I would keep them safe. As Past Whumpee lay dying in my arms. It was a pact made in blood, and I managed to break it in every way possible.” Caretaker flinched when Friend’s hand touched theirs. “They trusted me to take care of them when Whumper had us, and I let them die. Now, the one person they made me swear on my life to keep as far away from Whumper as possible has almost died because of them. How can I look them in the eyes? I have to do something to earn the right to see them again.”

—000—

Screams woke Caretaker from their nightmare. 

No. No. No. Caretaker wasn’t at Whumpee’s side. Someone had moved them back to their bed. This was their fault.

Another piercing cry stabbed through Caretaker’s chest as their legs gave out from under them. They couldn’t reach Whumpee like this. Medics had Whumpee surrounded, and all Caretaker could see of them was a single twitching hand pulled to the side to expose the dark veins.

“Get away from them!” Caretaker growled as they shouldered their way through the crowd. “Whumpee, it’s okay. I’m here.”

Breaths, sharp and stuttering, and the lack thereof made Caretaker’s head spin. They practically slammed against the bed in their rush to get to them. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

“Caretaker?” Whumpee asked, their voice rough and mouth dry. “Please, don’t let them take me. Don’t let me be like the others. I don’t want to leave you all alone.”

This time, when Caretaker’s knees fell out from under them, strange hands caught them and held them high enough to look down at Whumpee’s frightened face. And, for some reason, Caretaker didn’t seem to care that they needed the help.

“Whumper is gone, Whumpee.” Caretaker ignored the tears streaming down their cheeks. It was the first time they’d allowed themselves to openly sob in front of others since it happened. “We got them. Just take a deep breath. I promise, they won’t ever touch you again. You’re under my protection.” 

They hadn’t realized the ankle they held onto was broken until after they’d pulled Whumpee free. The limb wasn’t resting at an odd angle, and they had gripped above the break, so they hadn’t felt any shifting. They, they didn’t know.

“Officer? Officer Caretaker, we have them. You can let go.” A light touch brushed over Caretaker’s shoulder. 

Whumpee was quiet now, cradled in Caretaker’s arms. They kept them pressed against their chest to feel every breath shifting against them. Every heartbeat was measured by the hand wrapped around their neck and the base of their head, with fingers resting over a fluttering, slow pulse. Sure, they were alive, but they weren’t responding. Why weren’t they responding?

A voice crashed into Caretaker’s awareness. “Move! Get out of the way. Move, now. Hey, hey, Caretaker. Can you hear me? Do you know who I am?”

Caretaker’s lip curled in a scowl even as their head started to spin from the effort of looking up. “They’re dying, Friend. I can feel it slowing down. Their heart. Their heart isn’t beating fast enough.”

“Here’s what’s going to happen. Medics are determining the safest way to extract Whumpee from this ravine. We don’t have the supplies out here to monitor Whumpee’s condition properly, so they’re going to need you to hold them on the gurney and keep track of their pulse. Can you do that?”

Their arms tightened around Whumpee before they realized what they were doing. “I won’t let them die.”

Friend sighed. “Whatever the cost, right? Don’t move. They’re almost here. For safety reasons, they will check you to ensure you're capable of performing the task. If you fight back, one of the rookies will take your place.”

Caretaker didn’t argue. Even though it took more restraint than they’d thought, they didn’t fight the medics as they moved and examined Whumpee in their arms. They stayed perfectly still when Whumpee began to shift and whine at the likely painful examination. A small needle in Whumpee’s arm had them relaxing against Caretaker so much that they barely noticed when the attention switched.

A light shone in Caretaker’s eyes, and the medics were forced to take Caretaker’s pulse from their neck when they refused to release their hand from Whumpee. An injection that Friend assured them was to help them recover enough of their strength to assist in Whumpee’s recovery was the last thing they needed. 

“Let us help you both on the gurney. We need you to focus on keeping Whumpee steady.” Friend sighed when Caretaker made to stand.

The trip back started with Caretaker sitting upright, but the medics stopped once the search teams were out of sight. 

“Help us lay them down.” One of the medics swayed slowly back and forth in Caretaker’s vision as they messed with the device now attached to Whumpee. “Officer Caretaker, if you could lie down as well. This position is likely very painful for Whumpee, and we need you to continue monitoring their condition.”

Caretaker did as they were ordered with minimal help from Friend, blinking heavily as Whumpee was spread out against their chest.

When Caretaker opened their eyes, something cool was wiping across their forehead. 

“Whumpee is alive, unconscious, but should make a full recovery. It’s 0800. You were in and out for two days. They’re on your right. You can punch me when your fever goes down.”

“What the hell did you—”

“Whumper is still in custody and has already been transported.” Friend continued. “There are a few still fighting, but most of their men have run away or surrendered. Turns out Whumper’s second in command is pretty much useless.”

Caretaker rolled onto their side, grimacing at the IV in their arm. “Ugh. I feel…”

Friend chuckled and shoved Caretaker over onto their back again. “That would be the pneumonia. You’re in a hospital. I have a feeling the doctors are going to give you another lecture about hiding and ignoring your symptoms when you’re sick. This one could have killed you.”

“Better me than them.” Caretaker swung their legs over the opposite side of the bed and sat up before Friend could stop them. They studied the section of Whumpee’s face that wasn’t wrapped in bandages. “Why are they in here? If I’m sick, they’re in danger.”

Friend clapped a tense hand on Caretaker’s shoulder. The double meaning was clear. They wouldn’t be allowed any closer, but Friend wasn’t going to force them to lie back. “Fungal. Not contagious. Wouldn’t have gotten this bad if you had rested when you started feeling bad. Anyway, I asked them to let you share a room. Figured if it weren’t the case, you would have left to find them the moment I turned my back.”

“You’re probably right.”

“I know I’m right. Stubborn fool.”

“Your superior officer.”

“Powerful, stubborn fool.”

Caretaker almost laughed, then sighed, letting Friend guide them back down onto the bed. “They’re going to be okay?”

“You both are. Get some rest. Once your fever breaks, I’ll ask the doctors to bring in a chair so you can sit by their bedside and stare at them like a creep.”

Cop stopped just shy of an open door. “They’re here. I… I can’t—” They dropped to their knees and vomited. “I’m sorry.”

“Who all is in there?” Sergeant asked. They nodded as Cop simply shook their head. 

A sharp cry from inside the room sent Sergeant lurching into the cell. Though they would never let it show, the sight broke their hearts. They knew they would be scheduling an appointment with their therapist as soon as everyone was out. Most likely, they would sleep on the couch for the next few nights to keep from waking up their spouse. 

It was nearly silent as the officers inside backed away from the two people lying on the floor. 

Whumpee looked like they had been tossed like a ragdoll. One eye was swollen closed, and their breathing was a light whine. Their other injuries were obscured by Caretaker half-thrown over them. One of their hands slowly rose to cradle Caretaker’s face.

“P… please.” Sergeant strained to hear Whumpee’s breathless plea, “Let them help— help us.”

An officer Sergeant didn’t bother to look at started to step forward with Sergeant, but they motioned them back. They crept closer until they saw Caretaker tense and curl over Whumpee. “Hey,” Sergeant called softly. They knelt beside the steadily growing pool of red. “Whumpee? Caretaker, can you hear me?”

“I told them you would come, Sergeant,” Whumpee said as blood dripped from the corner of their mouth. “I told them not to give up hope after I’m gone. And… And look. You’re not making them wait anymore. You came to save them.”

“Yes, Whumpee. We’re here to save you both.”

Whumpee shook their head and cried out, and Caretaker immediately responded. They lifted themselves on shaking arms over Whumpee, blocking them from Sergeant’s view as much as they could. “Get back! Don’t touch them!”

“Caretaker, you’re safe. We’re here to help. Can you look at me?” Sergeant called, holding out a hand.

Striking with ferocity, Caretaker lashed out at Sergeant and immediately collapsed. They would have crushed Whumpee, but Sergeant lunged forward to catch them. Blood coated Sergeant’s uniform as Caretaker continued to fight back. They screamed in Sergeant’s ear. They scratched with broken nails at Sergeant’s face, but it wasn’t enough to keep from being pulled away from Whumpee and into Sergeant’s restraining arms. 

“Hush. Just breathe. It’s me, Caretaker. You’re safe.” Sergeant whispered in Caretaker’s ear. As the frightened officer began to weaken and lose the will to fight, they waved off the paramedics a moment longer. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

The paramedics focused on Whumpee, blocking the view of everything but their dim eyes watching Caretaker’s struggles. “Take them… T, take them away. Please. Don’t make them watch when I…”

“No.” Sergeant barked as more paramedics and worried officers flooded the room. “You’re not dying here, Whumpee. I’m getting both of you out of here.” 

And they did. Sergeant carried Caretaker out personally. Once Whumpee had been taken out of their sight, the injured and shaking officer went completely boneless, and any fight left drained out of them at once. Though, through it all, they never lost consciousness. 

Usually, Whumpee would laugh in Caretaker’s face. It wasn’t that they didn’t trust Caretaker to do a good job, but it was easier for Whumpee to handle things on their own. Caretaker had their own projects to work on. Not to mention that they had a penchant for picking at Whumpee for needing the help of someone younger than them. Two years wasn’t a big enough gap for that joke to be funny. 

This time, instead of arguing, Whumpee switched the glass to their other hand and then clicked open one of the screens they’d minimized. It would have been an insult to Caretaker’s capabilities for them actually to explain the forms they’d chosen, so they pushed their chair back slightly to give Caretaker room. Elbows on their knees, they waited for Caretaker to finish or for the room to stop spinning. Whichever one came first. 

“Easy. I’ll send the files to myself and get started.” Caretaker was smiling a little too widely as they eyed Whumpee. It made them shift uncomfortably in their chair, but Caretaker didn’t say anything. Their focus turned to the glasses they’d brought in, tapping their’s to the one in Whumpee’s hand in a half-hearted cheers, then swallowing a big gulp. “Drink up. Water will help. Migraine, right?”

Whumpee grunted and swallowed a big mouthful of the drink before setting it aside. 

“Hey, now. It’s not going to do you much good over there. Come on. Take a break and drink with me, then you can get back to work well hydrated.”

“Pushy. You’re acting like this is vodka or something.” Whumpee grimaced at the reminder of the last time they’d gone drinking with Caretaker. They’d been so hungover they couldn’t get out of bed the next day. 

Caretaker laughed and covered their mouth when the noise made Whumpee flinch. “I wish it were vodka. Today would be so much more fun if it were.”

Some of the pain in Whumpee’s head shifted as the sip of water they’d had settled. Not quite relief, but the chance that some, so they gave in. The ice water was surprisingly sharp on their tongue, slightly bitter like Caretaker had been too lazy to use the filtered water in the fridge and gave them tap water instead. Not that it mattered. Water was water, and hydration would help them accomplish their tasks.

They pushed their empty glass back into Caretaker’s waiting hands. “Thanks, but I need to get back to work. If you leave your glass on my desk, I’m going to throw it at your skull. Let me know if there’s any problem with what you sent.”

“Walk me to the door?” Caretaker asked, giving Whumpee their most dramatic puppy dog eyes yet. Their arm curled around Whumpee’s and pulled them out of their chair. “You need to stretch your legs! When was the last time you got up and moved around your office? We need to get you a standing desk or something.”

Whumpee groaned as their head spun even more, “What the hell, Caretaker? Let me go.”

“Dizzy? Maybe you should actually lie down.” Caretaker steered Whumpee toward the couch against their office wall instead of putting them back in their chair. 

“I can’t. I have too much… I can’t rest or…” Whumpee couldn’t make their thoughts connect. This felt wrong. They couldn’t finish their work like this. What was happening?

Caretaker’s voice was much softer as Whumpee’s knees gave out, and they gathered them in their arms. “Don’t try to fight it. You need the rest.”

“C… Careta— What did you, you?”

“Don’t worry. I won’t leave you alone. I’ll keep working while you recover.”

“...no.” 

Whumpee sank onto the couch, unable to so much as lift their head from where Caretaker placed it. The water they’d drunk. They couldn’t sleep. They needed to work.