It's warm. Far too warm for long sleeves, Caretaker muses as they watch Whumpee handle one of the boxes in the garage, having volunteered to help them clean up.
The kid always volunteers when it comes to such work, sometimes Caretaker has the feeling that Whumpee uses every chance they get to get out of their home.
Maybe they're not that far from the truth.
"Aren't you too warm?", Caretaker asks after Whumpee sets down the box next to the one they just carried outside themselves, but Whumpee shakes their head, drinking a sip of water, not meeting their eyes.
Caretaker decides to believe them, but watches them closely the rest of the day, noticing Whumpee flinch every now and then, their movements slowing down. A whimper escapes them when they bump into each other, Whumpee taking a few steps backwards.
"Sorry," they mutter, and Caretaker furrows their brows. They take a step closer, their throat tightening when Whumpee averts their gaze. Their eyes not leaving Whumpee's face, Caretaker reaches out and pulls up their sleeve, revealing several bruises.
Most of them are fresh and still dark, others are in different stages of colouring. It takes Caretaker a moment to pull the sleeve back down, lifting the shirt to reveal parts of Whumpee's stomach and ribs, also bruised.
They quickly pull the fabric back down, hearing Whumpee's breath hitch. Caretaker takes a step closer and pulls Whumpee into a hug, careful not to hurt them.
"Stay as long as you need to, kid. I won't send you back home." At this, Whumpee breaks down in tears.
something i really love seeing in whump stories (or even mainstream media like films or tv) is when the caretaker talks to someone else about whumpee to get advice or just get their thoughts and feelings out. Here are a few examples:
• caretaker on the phone talking to their friend who might be a doctor/medic/therapist or have other kinds of expertise that might help them care for whumpee (bonus points if whumpee over hears caretaker on the phone to them).
• caretaker having a friend or family member over at their house and having to explain their situation to get their friend/family member to not scare whumpee (even if whumpee isn't in the room).
• caretaker talking on the phone to someone who they are close to so they can rant and express their feelings in a healthy way and get comfort from someone close to them. (bonus points if they specifically make a statement about how much they care about whumpee and want to do the best they can to help but they are worried about being useless or doing the wrong thing!)
• The specific way caretaker changes how they talk to other people when about whumpee vs how they talk/interact with whumpee — soft, light, happy, caring, confident with whumpee vs sad, thoughtful, worried, uncertain with others.
Note: Carter=whumpee, Jan=caretaker, I just gave em names they’re not really fully fleshed characters
• • •
Carter walked into the bathroom with a wearied sigh, towel flung over her shoulder. It had been a long day to say the least. Somehow, despite her best efforts to regain it, she continued to feel control slipping away from her. Life was becoming more and more complicated by the day with no reprieve in sight.
Turning the bathtub tap on, Carter crouched down to let the water run over her fingers, testing it’s temperature. She failed to suppress a cringe as the movement exacerbated the pounding in her head, causing her to sway a little on the balls of her feet.
When the water reached a comfortable warmth, she stood up and stripped out of her clothes, piling them and the towel on the closed toilet seat. Stepping into the tub, she stood to the side as she switched the stream from the tub faucet to the shower head. After sticking a hand under the water to test the temperature a final time, she took the plunge and stepped fully into the shower spray.
The tension in Carter’s shoulders eased as the warm liquid soaked into her hair, traced the features of her face, fell down her back. She breathed in a deep breath, careful not to inhale any water, and released it slowly.
Carter stood like that for some time, just basking in the monotonous sound and sensation. At one point she spared a glance at the bar of soap sitting on the ledge, but found she lacked the drive to pick it up. Instead, she carefully lowered herself to the ground, sitting on the floor of the tub with her knees bent, arms wrapped loosely around them to keep them in place.
While she sat she didn’t think about all the things that were going wrong. She didn’t ruminate on the fact that she had no idea what to do next. She didn’t think about much of anything, really. Instead, she simply existed. She felt.
As she sat, Carter focused on the streams of water flowing down her nose and off her chin. She listened to the drumming of droplets landing against her skull. She allowed her eyes to blur in and out of focus, enjoying the way colours blended together and separated again. She studied the texture of her skin under the dim light and how it magnified beneath the beaded moisture.
Jan had been in the kitchen washing dishes when Carter had walked past, mumbling something about having a shower. He’d nodded at the time, not really thinking much of it. He’d heard the shower start in the distance and turned back to the task at hand.
The next time he looked up, ten minutes had passed. The dishes were done, his hands dried off as he listened to the sound of the shower running. He pursed his lips and turned away, going to sit in the living room.
That only lasted for five minutes. The TV was on, but Jan was paying no attention. His gaze was focused on the hallway, down which he could still hear the shower spraying away. With a concerned hum, he flung himself off the couch and walked down the hall. He slowed down outside the door to the bathroom to listen, but carried on to his room quick enough to not be suspicious if Carter heard him.
Carter didn’t hear him. She was sat perfectly still beneath the rapidly cooling water. The change in sensation intrigued her, keeping her focus.
Jan sat on the edge of the bed in his room for another five minutes before returning to the hallway once more. This time, he came to a full stop outside the bathroom door. Listening closely, he heard nothing. The splashing of the water didn’t change in any way that would indicate the usual movements of washing up.
He stood there for a couple more minutes arguing with himself internally. Jan knew that Carter had been having a rough go of things lately. Just the usual, nothing going the way it was meant to, life throwing curveballs and such. But, he also knew that he’d had a shower before doing the dishes, both of which used hot water, and their hot water tank was not very large. After thirty minutes, that shower had to be freezing.
He opened his mouth and closed it once before finally gathering the courage to call out. “Carter?”
He waited. There was no response.
“Hey Carter, you alright in there?” he called again, a bit louder this time.
Still there was nothing. Knowing that the second time he’d spoken loud enough that Carter surely would have heard, he backed away from the door. Maybe she just didn’t want to be bothered. Retreating back down the hall to reclaim his place on the edge of the bed, Jan’s mind swam with a thousand worries.
Carter had not, in fact, heard him. Her mind was focused on nothing beyond the sensory experience of her current situation. Her ears heard nothing but the pattering rain from the shower head.
The water had long since grown cold, then biting, then downright freezing. He muscles had stiffened, then began to cramp. Goosebumps spread across her skin and her whole body started to tremble uncontrollably. Still, she didn’t move. She didn’t even seem to notice.
Jan tapped his foot impatiently for another two minutes before jumping up from the bed and stalking back out to the hall. Knocking loudly on the bathroom door, he called out “Carter! Are you okay?”
As he’d almost expected at this point, there was no response. He cringed, really not wanting to create an awkward situation but also sincerely worried about his friend. Testing the doorknob, he found it was unlocked and opened with ease. “I’m coming in,” he announced before pushing the door open and cautiously sticking his head in.
Noting that the shower curtain was closed, he stepped fully into the room. “Carter? Please answer me if you’re okay.”
Still, nothing.
With his heart rate up-ticked, Jan grasped the shower curtain, fearing what terrible scene he would find behind it. Slowly pulling it aside, he was both horrified and relieved to find Carter as she was: Sitting upright with her eyes open, breathing and very much alive, but shivering violently, deathly pale with her lips and fingers tinged blue.
“Jesus Christ,” Jan muttered, reaching out to touch Carter on the shoulder. The second his skin made contact with hers, Carter flinched back as if she’d been burned. Given how cold her skin was, it might very well have felt like that to her, Jan thought.
“Jan, what are you doing?” Carter looked at him with an expression of sheer confusion, not even seeming to resister the rather intimate nature of the situation.
“You’re freezing! You’ve been in here for over fourty minutes. I thought you fell and hit your head or something.” Jan explained quickly, reaching out to turn the water off.
“Oh,” Carter responded simply. Then, looking down at herself without the water to blur her view, “ooohhh.” She reached out and grabbed her towel off the toilet, bringing it to cover her torso.
“I’m sorry,” Jan said, quickly averting his eyes.
“No,” Carter responded, still seeming somewhat dazed. “No, it’s okay. I would’ve been worried too, if it’d been you. It’s fine. Thank you.”
Jan nodded. He was so out of his depth here, he had no clue what to say or do. He wanted to help his friend, but he also didn’t want to overstep any boundaries or make her feel unsafe. “Do you want me to give you some privacy, or…?”
Carter began to straighten her legs and brace against the side of the tub to push herself up. It was then that she realized just how cold and stiff her body was, not really doing what she wanted it to. “I, uh- I could actually use some help standing up, if you don’t mind,” she said sheepishly.
“Yeah, of course,” Jan nodded, jumping into action. He helped support her by the arms as she pushed herself up, clutching the towel against herself awkwardly.
Once she stood on her own two feet and didn’t seem in danger of collapsing, he looked away to allow her time to wrap the towel around herself and tuck it in securely. Then he helped keep her upright as she struggled to maneuver her stiff legs over the edge of the tub, eventually giving up and opting instead to sit down down on it.
There was a long moment of silence as Carter reached down and tried to rub some heat back into her toes. Jan watched on, not really knowing what to say. Finally, he settled on, “are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just a bit cold,” Carter responded.
Jan shifted on his feet. “That’s not what I mean.”
Carter’s hands paused in their movements, though she didn’t look up. “I know.”
When Carter didn’t say anything further, Jan continued awkwardly. “It’s just- I know you’ve been under a lot of stress, and you’ve got a lot going on, and it’s just- it’s a lot. I get that. But this-” Jan ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily.
Picking up Carter’s clothes off the toilet seat, he sat down, holding them in his lap. He stared down at the fabric, not wanting to look at Carter’s face. “You scared me, Carter. I thought something had happened. Like something worse. Obviously something did happen, but I thought you’d fallen and hit your head or something. I was expecting the worst and I was scared. I just-” he let out a frustrated breath. “I don’t wanna see you hurt yourself.”
Carter watched Jan’s face out of the corner of her eye as she continued rubbing her legs. The concern contorting his features was so plain that it made her heart clench in her chest. She looked back down at her legs guiltily. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I was just sort of… out of it or something.”
“No, I’m not trying to make you feel bad, don’t apologize,” Jan said quickly. Shaking his head, he cursed himself internally. “I’m not trying to make this about me. Fuck, I’m bad at this.”
“I’d be more concerned if you were good at it,” Carter ventured to joke. The blank expression on Jan’s face was enough to tell her it wasn’t the time.
Pulling her sweater out of the pile of clothes on Jan’s lap, Carter pulled it on over the towel. “Listen, I’m fine, really. It’s just like you said, it’s been a rough week and I’m just tired. I know you’re worried, and I appreciate the concern. I do. But you don’t need to worry about me. This was a one time thing, I just wasn’t paying attention. It won’t happen again, I promise.”
Jan finally raised his eyes to meet Carter’s gaze. She looked earnest, like she either really believed what she was saying or really wanted him to believe it. Jan tilted his head to the side, not really sure whether he could trust her, cause he wasn’t even sure if she was being honest with herself.
“You promise?” He said finally, figuring that either way his immediate course of action was the same.
“I promise,” Carter affirmed with a small smile.
Jan returned the smile with a nod, though Carter perceived a flicker of doubt behind his eyes. “Are you alright to get dressed on your own?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Yes, thank you,” Carter responded, standing up and accepting her clothes from him.
“Alright. I’ll be outside if you need me.” With that, Jan stepped out of the bathroom, pulling the door closed behind him.
Deflating the second Jan disappeared into the hallway, Carter sank to the floor, sitting down with her legs stretched out in front of her. Allowing her head to fall back against the edge of the tub, she closed her eyes and scrubbed her hands down her face.
Once again she felt control slipping away, life becoming more complicated than she was prepared to deal with. Now, on top of it all, she’d created an awkward social situation with her best and only friend. Worse, she’d hurt him, scared him and made him worry about her. It didn’t feel like things could get much worse, but if past experience was anything to go by, this was only the beginning.
Hi friends! Some of the asks I've gotten recently had me thinking about what life might be like for Joe and Jack after Jack makes it home. Here's a little peek into their future (and this one is VERY bittersweet). You may see these flashforwards every so often from now on.
content warnings for: adult language, conditioned whumpee, captivity bonding, references to past abuse and dehumanization
just after rescue: small decisions
Jack looks down at the Lego in his hand. It’s red. He likes red, he thinks. He isn’t sure if he’s allowed to like anything unless Joe says so. Because Joe owns him. Joe bought and paid for Jack’s contract, just like Ivan said he would. So, what Jack likes and what he does not are Joe’s decision now.
But Joe bought him the Legos. He must want Jack to like the Legos. And Jack does.
It’s easier, when Jack likes what Joe wants him to. It isn’t as scary.
He used to do this, before. He used to make cities and towns from the plastic bricks, and he and Joe would set them up around the house.
They don’t live in that house anymore. There is not enough room for cities and towns in the new apartment.
There is not enough room for the dog crate either. Jack is glad. But Joe is still angry at him. If Joe wanted him, Joe would give him a space in the bed. That’s what Jack is there for. To warm the bed. To give Joe what he wants.
But Joe doesn’t want anything from him.
You can even have your own bed, Jackie. I won’t touch you.
Joe is supposed to touch him. Jack doesn’t want him to–sometimes he thinks he doesn’t want anyone to touch him ever again–but what Jack wants doesn’t matter. Joe is supposed to touch him, and he doesn’t, and it’s because Jack is bad. Just like Ivan said.
But Joe gives him things. Like the Legos. And a notebook with colored pens. And new clothes. And soft sheets and a blanket that feels heavy on top of him. And food–food that Jack can eat with a fork and a knife, like he did before.
And Joe asks him questions.
What do you want for dinner, baby?
Should I leave the hall light on?
Do you want Carl to sleep with you tonight?
What can I do?
Jack doesn’t understand. He isn’t supposed to want things unless Joe tells him to, and he certainly isn’t supposed to tell Joe what to do; Joe is supposed to tell him what to do. Good boys follow orders. Good boys do not make demands. Good boys submit.
Jack wants to be a good boy.
Sometimes, Jack misses Ivan. He wasn’t confused with Ivan. Ivan always told him when he was being a good boy, and he always punished him when he was bad. Jack doesn’t know if he is good or bad now.
He holds the brick up in front of his eyes. He likes it. He might. He doesn’t know.
—
Joe’s chest aches.
Jack hasn’t built anything. He’s just sitting there at the table, staring at the bricks like he doesn’t know what to do. Joe knows he’s supposed to let him figure it out. Dr. Breyer told him that it’s important for Jack to make several small decisions each day. She even told Joe that he shouldn’t give Jack sets of Legos, but rather let him decide what he wants to create.
He needs to remember that he’s allowed to think, she said, and, given what he’s been through, that’s going to take a while.
But Jack doesn’t seem to believe that he’s allowed to do anything. Not unless Joe says so.
It fucking destroys Joe. But he won’t give up on Jack. Not after everything he did to bring him home.
He just wishes it didn’t hurt so much.
Joe moves up behind Jack, making sure that Jack can hear his feet on the linoleum. He stuffs his hands in his pockets before he can reach to wrap his arms around Jack’s shoulders.
“What are you making, baby?”
Jack jumps, just a little, and then looks at the red brick in his hand. “What should I make?” He swallows and drops his eyes to the table. “Sir.”
Fuck.
“I told you, baby. You don’t have to call me that. I’m just Joe, remember?.”
“But I’m supposed to, s–” Jack bites his lip. “I’m supposed to.”
Joe shakes his head. “Not here. You’re home, Jackie.”
Jack spins the brick between his fingertips. “Home.”
“You get to choose.”
“Choose,” Jack repeats.
“Yeah. Choose. You can build whatever you want.”
Jack shakes his head. “I don’t want anything.” He sets the brick down on the table, and he dips his chin, blue eyes wide and looking up at Joe. “What do you want, sir?”
And God help him, Joe can’t help the twitch in his belly. He wants Jack. He does. But not like this. Not until Jack can choose.
“Joe.”
Jack’s cheeks burn. “Joe.”
“I want to know what you’re making.” Joe sits down across from Jack at the table, and he tries to smile. “That’s what I want.”
Jack stares at the pile of red bricks in front of him. He sighs.
“A barn?”
It’s stupid, the rush that bolts through Joe’s chest.
“A barn?”
Jack bites his lip again, and then nods. “Yeah. A barn.”
Joe wants to cry. He wants to set off fucking fireworks. He wants to send a parade down the street.
He wants to jump across the table and kiss Jack.
Instead, he just smiles.
“I think that’s a great idea, baby.”
taglist: @darkthingshappen, @oddsconvert, @aut0psy-s, @mylifeisonthebookshelf, @reflected-pain, @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump, @the-non-binary-cowboy, @no-terms-and-conditions-apply (let me know if you'd like to be added, and please let me know if I've missed you!)
A rescued Whumpee that’s too traumatized to talk to anyone, despite Caretaker’s best efforts. Eventually Caretaker gets desperate and hires a hypnotist to find out what happened.
But when Whumpee finally falls into a trance and starts talking, Caretaker grows more horrified with every word...
