Medic has been taking care of the newcomers all day. Rescuees from the last mission. When they ask what is wrong, Whumpee points to their shoulder, trying not to move too much. Medic examines it for a couple of minutes.
Their voice is so small and scared, Medic has a hard time finding words. This is always the hardest part of medicine. The human part. Fear. He smiles and shakes his head.
The small Whumpee nods in agreement. They probably knows what comes next. The scars that cover their skin show this is not their first rodeo. Medic could at least be glad this would be their last. They had just been rescued after who knows how long inside that complex. Team Leader was hoping they could join, to which Medic couldn’t help but object. Whumpee didn’t seem like much more than a child - even if their records said otherwise.
“I’m going to have to put it back in place.”
Whumpee nods again, keeping their head down. They close their eyes, bracing for it. Medic holds them in place, puts their arm in position and pushes it back in place with a sudden movement. Whumpee clenched their teeth, hand clutching a piece of their thin clothing. They gasp and puff quickly and silently. The shine of tears glimmer in the corners of their eyes, but they’re quick to dry it. They open their eyes, terrified and gape at the medic.
“I-I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I…”
“What didn’t you mean to do?”
They look at the Medic, confused.
“Cry without permission.”
Medic puts a hand to their face. The Whumpee shivers and closing their eyes, knowing it was coming. But the Medic just stroke their cheek with their thumb.
“It’s okay to cry. You’re safe now.”
The Whumpee opens their eyes, looking confused. They look like they’re about to do it, but hold themselves back. Perhaps it is too soon for old habits to die down. Perhaps the effects of their torture go way further than what the Medic can heal.
The shoulder might not have been broken, but the Whumpee surely is.