#altno.11

[whumpypepsigal]

Whumptober 2021 | No. 23

Alternative No. 11: Near death experience

Casino Royale (2006): Bond gets poisoned with digitalis. Retrieving an antidote and defibrillator from his car, Bond passes out but Vesper rescues him.

[set-phasers-to-whump]

stabbed

prompt: stabbed (alt no.11)

whumpee: sonny carisi

fandom: law and order svu

hi here's a fic that i did not all plan on writing...it's been a hot minute since i've seen this show but i was trying to work out who i hadn't stabbed yet and well. that list is surprisingly short. so here we are! hope you enjoy :)

It happens with absolutely no warning. They’re canvassing an apartment building, checking to see if anyone has information on a young girl that’s gone missing from her grandmother’s apartment. He’s been given the top floor, and the grandmother lives on the second floor, so he’s not really expecting to find out much. Thus far all he’s learned is that the old guy in 603 likes to vacuum in the middle of the night, and that the couple in 615 has a dog even though pets aren’t allowed. 

He stops in front of the last apartment on the left side of the hallway and knocks. A guy around his age answers the door. 

“Have you seen this girl?” Sonny holds out the picture they’ve been given. The guy takes it, looks closely, then passes it back. 

“I don’t think so. Something the matter?”

“She disappeared from her grandmother’s apartment on the second floor two days ago.”

“That’s terrible. But I’m sorry, I haven’t seen her.”

Sonny nods. “Thanks for your time.”

The man shuts the door and Sonny turns around to begin canvassing the other side of the hall. He comes face to face with a woman, also about his age, who is reaching into her purse, he assumes for her keys. She must live with the guy he’d just talked to. 

“Hey, have you seen this girl?” 

The woman looks at the picture, blinks. And then she pulls her hand out of her purse but instead of a key she has a knife and just like that she stabs him in the stomach. 

The first thing he feels is complete shock - what the hell just happened? And then he looks down at himself and sees the blood soaking through his shirt and the pain hits him all at once. 

He falls to the floor and the impact makes the pain even worse. It pulses through his torso, hot and sharp and overwhelming. 

He lies there flat on his back for a few seconds, feeling the blood steadily soaking through his clothes, before slowly dragging himself up so he’s sitting against the wall. He has to focus, he tells himself. He knows what he’s supposed to do, in theory. Apply pressure. But with what? 

He knows he’s not going to be able to remove any of his clothes. So he looks around for something else he can use, but only manages to establish the fact that he’s completely alone in this hallway. He briefly wonders whether the woman who’d stabbed him is inside her apartment, whether she’ll come back, but decides that’s a problem that can wait for later. 

Having found nothing to use to apply pressure, he settles for simply using his hands. He presses a palm into the wound but almost immediately removes it. It’s far too painful and the sensation of blood soaking into his skin makes him dizzy. 

He’s shaking, he realizes, looking down at his hand that is now stained bright red with blood. That’s not good. He stares at the hand for several seconds and tries to get it to stop shaking, to no avail. He should do something about this. 

Call someone. The thought pops into his mind unbidden, and he wonders how he had managed to forget that he isn’t here alone. 

He grabs his walkie talkie and presses the button. 

“Hey, Lieu?”

Olivia’s voice comes through the speaker clearly. “Done already, Carisi?”

He exhales slowly, readjusts his grip on the walkie-talkie when it threatens to slide out of his shaking hand. “Not exactly.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Got stabbed.”

“What?”

“There was a lady…she had a knife. Took me by surprise.”

“Where are you?”

“Sixth floor.”

“Don’t go anywhere. I’m on my way.”

He doesn’t think he could go anywhere even if he wanted to. He leans his head back against the wall and lets the walkie talkie drop to the floor. He wishes that the pain would stop, or at least become more tolerable. But it’s still horribly present, pulsing with the same intensity that threatens to overwhelm him completely. 

“Carisi!” 

He opens his eyes - he hadn't even realized he’d closed them - and finds himself looking directly at his Lieutenant, crouched on the ground in front of him. 

“Hey, Lieu.”

“A bus is on the way. How are you holding up?” she asks, taking off her jacket. 

“Been better,” he answers. “I think the lady might still be inside. Didn’t see where she went.”

“Did she have red hair and a black jacket?” 

He thinks for a second. “Yeah.”

Olivia sighs. “Fin saw her leave the building in a hurry a few minutes ago. She said she was late for spin class.”

“Hm,” Sonny says, eloquently. “Will you -”

Before he can finish his sentence, Olivia presses her balled-up jacket into his stomach, and it feels like someone has hit him with a baseball bat. All the air leaves his lungs in a rush and he has to grit his teeth to keep from making noise. White spots dance in the corners of his vision. 

“Sorry, sorry,” is the first thing he hears, once the ringing in his ears dies down. 

Sonny doesn’t say anything in reply, isn’t sure he’s even able to. He tries to take a steadying breath but it catches in his throat and turns into a sort of whine on the exhale. 

Olivia grabs his hand. It’s the one covered in blood, and it’s still shaking, and he feels the need to apologize to her for both of these things but he still isn’t sure that he can speak. He’s too focused on breathing and on not letting the pain overwhelm him to the point of passing out. 

“Just a couple more minutes,” she says, and if she’s bothered by the blood or the shaking she doesn’t show it. “You’re gonna be okay.”

And despite the horrible pain and all of the blood, he believes her easily.

thanks for reading! hope you enjoyed <3<3

[drjezdzanyart]

Whumptober 2021, for the prompt near death experience (altno.11)

[susiequaz12]

Whumptober 4- Ira the Bird Boi

Here is a part 13 to Ira’s story. I decided to use some alternate prompts for day 4- Near Death Experience, and Trapped. The previous part to this is right here.

CW: non-human whumpee, pinned down, talk of death, blood mention, whumpee seen as an object.

- - -

He was trapped.

Heavy weights lined up and down his wings as he lay on his side. Rocks were crumbling everywhere. One hit him right above the eye and he whimpered.

The creature called out as he saw his mother in front of him. 

“Ira! Ira, my baby!” 

She was calling for him, arms outstretched as she was torn backwards, dragged through the stone and the dirt into the outside world. He tried to reach for her, but his limbs felt heavy. He shifted and cried out as his feathers were pulled and crushed.

“Momma!-” There was a loud rumble, a crash, and a shake of the earth- and Ira closed his eyes.

The creature stirred awake, moaning lightly as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.

There was a soft rag on his forehead, it was cool and he felt his hair damp underneath. His limbs felt incredibly heavy, and his heart fluttered as he thought to his dreams. His wings- had they, were they?-

As he wiggled his feathers underneath him he breathed a sigh, they were okay. At least they seemed like it.

Ira’s eyes scanned the room. This was- this was new. It looked bright- the colors were different, and it seemed soft. So much softer than the cold bars of the cage and the cement floor. His eyes landed on a figure, sitting across the room from him, a cigar in one hand and his eyes fixated on Ira. 

“Oh it’s not dead. Thank goodness.” The man stated casually. He muttered to himself as he pulled himself off of the chair. “Had me worried there for a second.”

Dead? Ira questioned. What happened?

He remembered, being tied down. And then, then they took his blood. A lot of it.

That was all he remembered before he got really cold, and then fell asleep. He had thought he had died. 

The creature flinched back in shock, his heart pounding as the man drew closer. He hunched over him, and Ira curled in tighter to himself.

“Hmm. I might just have to keep you here.” Ira could smell the smoke on his breath as he spoke. “After that near death experience, I’d be foolish to trust you to anyone else.”

Ira shivered, wishing Nora was there to comfort him. 

He was trapped.

@imagination1reality0  @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @whump-me-all-night-long @misspelledwitch

[theundercovermarvelfan]

Whumptober 2020 - Day 31

And it is MIDNIGHT EXACTLY as I am posting this FINAL prompt! Thank you to everyone who has followed along and thank you to @whumptober2020 for putting on this awesome event!

Whumtober Challenge

Day 31 Alternate Prompt #11 Presumed Dead

It had been a long ass day. 

Clint had come off a rough mission a couple weeks ago and was still working on getting back up to physically fit to return to active status as a SHIELD Agent and an Avenger. He had spent the entire day at the SHIELD base upstate working out and running training exercises to make sure he would be well prepared for his assessment in just a few days. He was sick of sitting around Avengers Tower and he felt like he was more than ready to get back into the field. 

Clint could have stayed upstate on the SHIELD base, but over the last year and a half since the Avengers had moved into the Tower after the Loki incident, the Tower was finally feeling like home to Clint. And tonight Clint just wanted to be able to sleep in his own bed. So, he got in his car just after six o’clock in the evening and started the four hour drive back home. 

He was about halfway home when his phone rang, interrupting his blaring classic rock music. 

“Yeah?” Clint said as he answered the phone, not glancing at the caller ID. 

“Hey, Clint, just checking in,” came Natasha’s voice over the line. “How did it go on base today?”

“It went fine,” Clint assured her. “I was able to run a couple extra training exercises than I had planned on. I’m a little sore, but I feel good about taking the assessment in a couple days.”

“Does that mean you’ll take it easy for a few days?” Natasha asked pointedly. When Clint was benched from missions he tended to get obsessive about getting back to active status. 

“I think I can go back to just working out and training in the Tower if that’s what you mean,” Clint said cheekily, knowing that it wasn’t. 

Natasha sighed heavily and Clint just knew she was rolling her eyes. “Are you staying on base tonight?”

“No, I wanted to come home tonight,” Clint said. “I’m actually driving back now.” 

“How far out are you?”

Clint paused. There was something… off in Natasha’s voice. The question had come across just a shade too… demanding. 

“I’m probably about an hour and a half or so out,” Clint said carefully. “Is everything okay, Nat?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Natasha assured him, and all traces of the strange tone were gone. Had Clint just imagined it? “Just attempting to keep tabs on you since you’re here, there and everywhere these days. I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Yeah, see you in a bit,” Clint agreed before he disconnected the call, the bluetooth immediately switching back over to his blaring music. 

Of the course of the next hour and a half, the odd conversation with Natasha slowly but surely slid to the back of Clint’s mind as he lost himself in the music. It was after ten o’clock at night when Clint was finally pulling into the parking garage underneath Avengers Tower. He gave a big yawn as he pulled his duffle bag out of the backseat and slung it over his shoulder. Then he trudged over to the elevator, blinking heavily as the exhaustion hit him hard now that he was no longer behind the wheel of a car. 

When he got into the elevator, he instinctively hit the button for his apartment floor. But as the doors were closing, he changed his mind and hit the button for the common floor. He had skipped dinner that night and figured there were probably some leftovers he could snag from the communal refrigerator. 

Clint stepped out onto the common floor to find that all the Avengers were gathered, and all looked at him when he entered. Clint hesitated, looking around warily at the serious faces that had all turned to him at the same time. The television wasn’t on, they had all apparently been just sitting around, which was odd for this time of night. 

And then Clint spotted Nick Fury standing on the other side of the room, arms crossed as he leaned back against the wall behind him. That’s when Clint really knew something was wrong. 

“What happened?” Clint asked as he let the bag slide off his shoulder and onto the floor. 

“Why don’t you come sit down,” Natasha invited, her voice solemn. 

Clint didn’t move, his eyes darting around the room once around. “Is this an intervention?” 

The comment at least got a half hearted chuckle from a few in the room. 

“It’s nothing like that,” Steve assured him, his tone light. “There’s just something we need to tell you, and we figured it’d be better if we were all together for it.”

“Okay,” Clint said slowly as he carefully started walking forward, completely baffled by the situation. What could possibly be going on that made everyone look at him like that? 

“It’s nothing bad, I promise you,” Natasha said as he sat on the couch next to her. 

“We’re just trying to find a way to do this that won’t immediately give you a stroke or a heart attack,” Tony input. 

“Okay, just tell me what’s going on,” Clint pleaded. 

“Nick,” Natasha prompted, looking over at Fury expectantly. 

Nick Fury sighed heavily before he pushed himself upright off of the wall. “I want you to know, I never wanted to put you through this, Barton. It was never my intention. It made sense in the big picture, but I knew what it would do to you in particular and I hated it. And it was always my intention to tell you what happened… but there isn’t exactly a protocol for how to break this kind of news.”

“Okay, we gotta pull the ripcord here at some point,” Tony said pointedly. 

“SHIELD had a program under Level 9 clearance called Project T.A.H.I.T.I.,” Fury went on. “Can’t imagine you’ve heard of it?” Clint only shook his head. “I cannot get into the details of the project, for obvious security reasons, but suffice it to say the goal of the project was to be able to heal wounds that otherwise would be fatal. It was designed to be able to save someone that would have otherwise been beyond saving. We’ve had mixed results from the project over the years, so when I called it into action a while ago, there was no guarantee that it would work. I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up.”

Clint’s head was spinning. “Fury, I’m going to be honest with you, I am dead tired and I have no fucking clue where you’re going with all this or even what any of it means.”

“Clint… Phil Coulson is alive.” 

There was that ripcord that Tony had been talking about. It was like the world had fallen out from underneath Clint. His heart paused, twisted and then started pumping wildly and out of control. He suddenly felt like he wasn’t getting enough air and for some reason he couldn’t feel his hands. He was floating away, untethered to the earth any long as his reality was ripped apart. 

Clint found himself shaking his head. “No… no… no, Phil is… he’s dead. I… I saw it. I saw the security footage. I watched… Phil’s dead. We… we buried him.” Clint looked around wildly. This was some kind of sick joke. But no one was laughing. Then was everyone else losing their minds? “He died, Loki killed him!” 

“Clint,” Natasha said softly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulders. “I know how hard this is to get your mind around. I know how painful your mourning process was and how long it took for you to accept it. And I know that this completely destroys that entire process that you went through. But it’s true. Phil is alive. Fury managed to save him with Project T.A.H.I.T.I.”

“Phil Coulson was clinically dead when the med team arrived on the scene after Loki stabbed him,” Fury said, a little too clinically for Clint’s mental state at that point. “We were never completely sure that we would be able to bring him back. And even when we did, we were never completely sure we could successfully heal him. It was a day by day operation that lasted for months.”

Clint dropped his head into trembling hands. He shook his head. This wasn’t real. There was no way this was real. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe this was another nightmare. He had spent months grieving the loss of his mentor and best friend. He had been completely shattered by Phil Coulson’s death. This man had taken him off the streets as a teenager and given him a purpose in life. He was the most stable person in Clint’s life, he was Clint’s anchor in the world. He was Clint’s family. Losing Phil had almost broken Clint. 

It couldn’t be that easy to get him back. Could it? 

“Clint?”

Clint head shot up so quickly that he just about pulled a muscle in his neck. He would know that voice anywhere. The figure had stepped in from an adjacent room and now stood there like a specter. Except he wasn’t. He was flesh and blood. He breathed and he smiled that comforting smile that Clint had always loved so much. 

Clint was on his feet one moment, and then across the room the next. He threw his arms around Phil with such force that he almost knocked them both over. But it was at that moment it finally hit him. This was real. 

Phil was alive.

“It’s okay, kid,” Phil soothed as hugged Clint back just as fiercely. “It’s okay.”

“You… you were… I thought you were…” Tears were now flowing freely down Clint’s face. 

“I know,” Phil said gently. “I know. I’m sorry I couldn’t get back to you sooner. I just… we didn’t know how to tell you.”

He didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything in that moment other than the feeling of Phil’s arms wrapped securely around him. 

He was home. 

XxXxX

DISCLAIMER: I know this probably doesn’t fit in exactly with the events of the Agents of SHIELD tv show, I kinda tailored it to what I needed this prompt to do. Also, Fury deliberately leaves out important details about Project T.A.H.I.T.I. ;) 

[fallingstormphoenix]

Whumptober: “Infection”

(Alt. No11)

The wound was infected.

Blue knew that, he knew what the red streaks on his skin and constant drainage from the knife wound in his thigh meant.

What he didn’t know was how to make it stop.

He’d scrubbed it clean as soon as he could after getting it. It was a mistake, really, he hadn’t paid attention to his surroundings and he’d walked into it. At least that’s what he thought happened. Thoughts were becoming more difficult. Memories too.

How he got the wound didn’t matter. He told himself. What matters is getting it un-infected before Hugo finds out. Or worse, Luka. He shuddered at the thought.

He could figure this out. He’s treated lots wounds before. Before when? He wasn’t sure. He only vaguely remembered Trainer and Boss, and... was there someone before them?

He shook his head. No he was getting distracted, he needed to focus on his leg. No not his leg, his work. His work.

What was I doing again?

The wound was infected.

He didn’t know.

( @haro-whumps @imagination1reality0 @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @0idril0 @quirkykayleetam @whumptywhumpdump @pumpkin-spice-whump-latte )

[murder-schmurder]

Prompt 3: Delirium

and extended prompt 11: Infection 

Whumptober prompt list

So ages ago I wrote this little nugget (CW: graphic description of sickness and Major Character Death) and this day’s prompt fits very well into that continuity.

CW: illness, delirium, implied major character death

The world was swimming in slow, nauseating turns like congealed soup. Chase breathed slowly through the sticky glob of it stuck in his throat, every little shift triggering a new coughing fit. His body was heavy, pulsing with heat in new and strange places, like it had been weighed wrong. 

He tried not to move. It hurt more when he moved. 

A cool, wet cloth spread over his forehead, and his exhalation of relief turned into a coughing fit in vengeance. 

“Hurts - “ he managed between coughs, and felt a hand, cold as ice, grip his.

“I know, mein friend. I know. I’m so sorry.” 

Chase frowned. Henrik sounded upset. He shouldn’t be upset. Henrik should be happy, and smiling, and so should all his other brothers… hang on.

“Where…” He had to pause, cough, swallow painfully past the rasping sandpaper in his throat. “Where’s t’others?” 

He strained to remember, but it was just - soup. Time bled together. Had he ever not been like this?

“They’re… out. They’re okay. They’re - trying to find a way to help you, so we can all be happy together. Okay?” 

Henrik’s voice sounded thick and watery through the smiling, but Chase relaxed at his words anyway.

“That’s ok. They can rest. You’ll find a cure, won’t you?” 

A drop of something warm and liquid hit Chase’s face. He’d have grimaced, if he’d had the energy for it.

“Of course I will. I’ll save you, Chase.”

[copics-and-renegades]

Whumptober 2019 Day 13 BONUS 11: Infection

Half-Elf recruits who cannot keep up will get left behind in the forest. Especially if they’ve been naughty.