Bloody betrayal
Whumptober masterlist
Day 24: FIGHT, FLIGHT OR FREEZE |blood-covered hands | "I don't want to do this anymore" | catatonic
Alt 12: Carried to safety
+ this prompt by @whump-all-the-way
After Whumpee's betrayed and beaten by their team, Caretaker rescues them.
1.2k words
CWs: past beating, past betrayal, aftermath of a beating, past captivity, past choking, past stabbing, implied torture, emeto
Whumpee crawls out of the sewer and slumps against a shop door, hand pressed to their throbbing ribs, now broken as well as slashed, blinking away pained tears. They'd expected some sort of response to their return – suspicion maybe, they'd understand that, relief or joy even. They'd hoped for treatment for their injuries. They are... were friends, after all. But not... not this.
Not a beating as bad as Whumper often gave them. Not for Leader, who took them under his wing, who they looked up to for years, to punch them as soon as he saw them. Not for Teammate, their so-called 'best friend', to look at them coldly as they lay on the floor and demand to know what they'd betrayed, knuckles bloody.
Whumper called them an animal, a nothing. They didn't realise their team would feel the same way.
They thought Whumper broke them, when he finally conditioned them to stop reacting to hits, to call him Sir and thank him for the pain. But apparently there was a part of them left that still hoped. Hoped for a reunion, friendly voices, to belong again in a place that wasn't a cell.
A part of them left to break.
Not any longer though. That's gone.
Whumpee runs a wet hand down their aching face. Are there– they thought that muzzle scarred. It certainly felt like it dug in enough to.
Did it not? Or did their team just not care?
Whumpee groans and closes their eyes, whole body throbbing. They really took a pounding back there. Oh, their team left them alone, of course, once they were thoroughly beaten down. Left them in a cell, probably to come back to the next day. Without even any restraints.
Whumpee snorts at that, then claps a broken hand to his head. If they'd bothered to care about what happened to him, they'd never have left him unrestrained. They're not as hopeless at escapology as they once were. But they did.
They did, because they didn't care.
Whumpee needs to move soon, before their former team comes out looking for their prisoner. But they really can't summon up the energy to. What do they have left, after all? Where can they go? All they had was the hope of seeing their team again, and that's gone now.
"You realise you're leaving a trail of blood, darlin'? I can follow you all the way to your HQ."
Whumpee looks up to see someone standing on the opposite doorstep, wearing a black trenchcoat and hat, and smoking a cigarette. He pushes himself off the wall and stubs out his cigarette when he sees Whumpee's face.
"What the 'ell 'appened to you?"
Belatedly, Whumpee realises that they didn't bother to wipe their face. Their teammates earlier didn't notice anything was wrong, why the fuck would anyone else?
Apparently, someone else would.
"None of your business. Just fuck off."
The man frowns. "Your voice. You been choked lately?"
Whumpee feels a lump in their throat, and holds still as the man approaches, tracing the air above their sensitive, bruising throat. Their hands twitch to use their powers and hold the man off but they've learned over the past two months what happens if they even appear to be using them. So they just watch, warily, as the man touches their bruises lightly.
It's a kinder touch than they've had in months. This stranger is being kinder than their own team and they don't trust it.
"The fuck are you doing?"
"Making sure you can still breathe right, since you ain't doin' it."
"You can't tell that from... that."
"Sure I can. Dunno why I bothered though, it's clear from the arguing that you can. Didn't you 'ave some sorta power last time we met?"
"We've never met."
The man shrugs with an air of deliberate nonchalance. "If you say so." Whumpee slumps forward, suddenly drained, and the man puts a hand on his chest, holding him upright. "Woah. Easy there darlin'. Want help gettin' back 'ome?"
"'m not– not going back to base. And I'm not helping you either. Just to be clear. I'm done with this fight. I've been on both sides and neither's worth it. So either kill me or leave, I'm no use to you."
"Oh no you don't, darlin'. Well, you don't have to fight, but you'll die if you stay here. And I'm not lettin' you die... Whumpee, isn't it?"
"Maybe. Who are you?"
"Caretaker. Well, that's not my real name o'course, but maybe if you stay long enough you'll find it out. So. You comin'?"
Whumpee pauses, looking the man up and down. He looks... sincere, but not honest, although Whumpee themself isn't always honest either. Technically, he's also their enemy, but they don't really have any allies left.
And he's right. They will die if they stay here, if not now then as soon as their team finds them. Or maybe not as soon as. Maybe the team will beat them up some more first. They nod, regretting it as their head throbs.
"Fine. I'll come."
Caretaker grins. "Excellent. Can you walk?"
"I don't–" Whumpee tries to lever themself up against a wall and falls with a yelp as they try to put weight on their ankle and an agonising pulse runs up their leg. "Maybe not."
"Well, I'm gonna have to carry you then. 'old still." Caretaker hefts Whumpee into his arms, cursing as he stumbles. "You eaten anythin' lately? Cos it sure don't feel like it."
"Not for a while," mumbles Whumpee, clamping their lips shut as their stomach roils and everything hurts from the jolting. "'m gonna be sick."
"Well don't do it on my coat, it's already got your blood on it. Far too much in fact. You been stabbed?"
"Slashed," murmurs Whumpee, before retching. Caretaker tips them sideways so their bile falls onto the pavement, waiting patiently for them to finish.
"You done?"
"F'r now."
"Well, can you hold on until you're not gonna throw up on my favourite coat?"
"Probably?"
"That'll do." And Caretaker takes off walking at a brisk pace. Whumpee slumps against his chest, unable to hold themself up anymore. Even if this man does mean harm, they're in no shape to defend themself. No point bothering to try.
"Dammit darlin'. Hold on just a lil bit longer, come..."
Caretaker's voice fades, along with the rest of the world.
_
Whumpee half-wakes to the sound of voices.
"How are they?"
"They'll live, boss. And their wings should grow back, if the latest research is correct. But it's weird."
"What is?"
"I did an MRI scan to check the state of their brain, because I needed to see what that knock did to it, and it looks like someone's been meddling with it. There's energy traces in there. It's not just a concussion causing problems."
There's a growl. "Someone with powers has been inside their brain?"
"Yes, boss."
""That's... that's why they don't remember me, int it?"
Whumpee groans, wanting to ask what's going on, why Caretaker sounds so unbearably sad, but their mouth won't obey and nor will their eyes and before they can try to move their aching body, the world fades again.
When they wake, they won't remember this conversation at all.
_
Picrews (link) - Whumpee just after being treated, Caretaker, and Medic
