#field surgery

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #1758

Your whumpee has to be instructed how to perform surgery over the radio/phone/from someone in the next cell over.

Maybe they're performing it on themselves - or maybe performing it on someone else.

Either way, the person who gives the instructions feels incredibly guilty when the whumpee experiences severe complications (such as a horrendous infection).

[kookicat]

Acts of Service

It doesn't want to harm us. There's no way it would let me do this if it wished us ill, she thinks, the plastic scalpel handle warm and sticky with sweat in her shaking fingers. Her back and armpits are damp too, clammy with adrenaline fuelled perspiration. It's easier to think about her own bodily discomfort than about what she's going to do. What she has to do, regardless of her feelings, if they have any chance of getting back to the habitat in time to save the rest of her team. 

SecUnit sits in front of her, back bare of armor, of anything, pale flawless skin almost glowing in the hopper light. She'd expected it to have scars like an old, grizzled war veteran, for some reason, even though she'd already seen just how much flesh could be regrown. 

Patient and steady, a stark contrast to her screaming nerves. Waiting for her to carve it up like a lamb going to the slaughter, take part of it, and use that part to fix the shuttle. It's obscene, if she thinks about it too hard, or even if she doesn't. 

The act, the offering, has cemented her gut feeling. Things might be going to shit, but the SecUnit - their SecUnit is as much a victim of these circumstances as the rest of them are, or maybe even more, because once they leave the planet, she can go home, return to her normal life, not… what? She's not even sure - return to be shoved into storage, somewhere, until it is forced into another contract, for humans to do what they want with it? Returned to more abuse and torment?

The idea is abhorrent, anathema to everything she believes in. This is a person, she thinks, and the scalpel falters again. I do not want to do this. 

SecUnit shifts, and she almost flinches, sure it has changed its mind, but it merely twists around to look at her, expression not exactly relaxed, but a lot calmer than she'd be, if their positions were reversed. Lowering itself before her, like an offering, begging her to take what she needs and offer little in return.

“It's not going to hurt,” SecUnit says, shoulders moving a bit in an almost shrug. “I've turned off my pain sensors.”

Like that makes anything fucking better, she thinks. Let me turn off my pain sensors so you can hack bits out of my body to fix the hopper, which by the fucking way, uses cloned human parts… it's a lot, and she has to just close her eyes and - I am breathing. I am breathing the crystal air. It pops into her mind, unbidden and she swallows a gulp that feels like a sob.

It's a soothing episode, she thinks, and swallows hard, because only someone who needed soothing would know that. Would say that, and there's trust implicit in the sharing of it. Opening up, just a tiny bit, to help her. Letting her get a peek at the softness hidden under layers of armor and hurt and distrust. 

There's a million things that she wants to say, and none of them can get past the lump in her throat. She swallows, hard, and touches the tip of the blade to the warm flesh in front of her. The skin parts easily, blood welling, and she has to force herself to keep going. Is half expecting the person under her hands to flinch away, but SecUnit is absolutely still, chest rising and falling in slow, easy breaths. The second layer is tougher, some sort of metallic mesh, woven with bits of organic flesh. 

It takes both hands on the scalpel to break through it, and she can feel the strain through her forearms almost to her elbows. The mesh parts, peeling open to reveal a spine made from a mix of metal and bone. It looks…painful, technology and cloned human tissue more jammed together than blended seamlessly. 

She stops, exactly what she's doing hitting her again like a punch to the gut, and she steps back, the scalpel dropping to hang by her side. I did that, she thinks, and forces herself to look at the bloody, gaping wound. Nausea rises and she has to suck in a sharp breath to chase it back. 

“Dr. Mensah?” SecUnit says, shoulders still rising and falling in a rhythm that's not quite human normal. 

It hands her a wrench - a fucking wrench, the big one they'd been using on the hopper not that long ago. She stares at it, hands already clammy on the cool metal. No. No. Absolutely fucking not, she thinks, but her hands take the wrench anyway. Numbly follows SecUnit’s instructions to crack its spine and has to keep swallowing hard to ward off the nausea.

SecUnit twitches, a small sound of something leaving it as she tugs the nerve fibers free. It's warm and oddly rubbery under her fingers, so slippery she's worried about dropping it. 

“Are you okay?” she asks, sticky hand clenched around the precious bundle of fibres. 

There's a split second of hesitation before SecUnit answers, blinking long before speaking. “Yes,” it says, but there's an echo of something she doesn't like in its voice. 

It takes all of her self control not to pat SecUnit down, like she would one of her children, checking for skinned knees and scraped palms, for other hidden hurts. Not to grab the med unit and do something with it, though she has no idea what because that's not fucking working until the shuttle does.

“Okay,” she says, instead, and nods, handing the fibre over when SecUnit reaches for it. 

It stands, the slight hesitation still there, like a human trying not to jar a broken limb. The slightest limp as it crosses the hopper to the fried conduit. 

You're not okay, she thinks, but has a feeling saying it will lead nowhere. The words stick at the back of her throat like spikes, prickly until she blurts them out. “Are you okay?”

“I am perfectly functional,” SecUnit says, a non-answer she sees straight through. There's a furrow in its brow, an odd tension in its shoulders that's all the answer that she needs.

“Are your pain sensors…” she starts, and stops, not sure how to finish that question.

“They are still turned off,” SecUnit says. “Though apparently I am unable to turn the ones around my neural tissue off.”

She has no idea how to answer that, and is saved from having to when the hopper comes back online with a chorus of beeps and chimes. 

SecUnit turns and must catch something in her expression. “I am fine, Dr. Mensah,” it says, more softly. “I just have…” it pauses, apparently searching for the word. “A headache.” 

“I'm sorry,” she starts, and stops, almost taking a step back as a horrified expression starts to spread over SecUnit’s face. It doesn't see itself as a person, yet, she thinks. And in the Corporation Rim people don't apologise to the equipment.  She has to clench her jaw, blinking back startled tears as that realization hits. Wants to apologise again, knows it will only make things worse. 

“Please, sit,” she says instead and drops into the pilot’s seat, hands automatically reaching for the controls. “Time to be intrepid galactic explorers and save the day?” she asks, and lifts the hopper into flight, hoping what she'd just done would be worth it. 

[i-eat-worlds]

caretaker gentle wiping the blood off of whumpee after a frantic emergency surgery on the dining table

[whumpsday]

Infection

@medwhumpmay Day 9

Medwhump May Masterlist

content: infection, gangrene, amputation, field surgery, broken bones, gore, brief & temporary death wish, lady whump, yuri!

-

The infection only got worse and worse.

Whumpee tried to get the guards to do something about it. When it became apparent that the guards didn’t give a fuck whether she lived or died, she tried to ignore it. But as her foot started to necrose more and more, and then her ankle, and then her lower leg, she stopped being able to ignore it.

She didn’t take her shoe off anymore. It hurt too much, and looking at it made her want to puke. She couldn’t stand, could barely even sit.

And then she got a cellmate.

The other captive was quiet and reserved, but not shy. She was polite, but not much for conversation, not unless it served some practical purpose.

So when Caretaker asked What’s wrong with your leg? only hours after arriving, without having seen anything, she knew it had to be bad.

“Some kinda infection,” Whumpee explained, her voice ever-strained now. “Figure it’ll go away or my foot’ll fall off, one or the other.”

“Or you get sepsis and die,” Caretaker added bluntly.

Whumpee glared at her. “You some kinda doctor?”

“Medic,” Caretaker corrected. “Can I take a look?”

Whumpee grimaced. She hadn’t looked at it in weeks, and at that point it was just the ball of her foot. It hurt all over now, and she could only imagine how bad it was.

But she didn’t want to get sepsis and die.

“Fine. You can look at it if you can get my boot off.” Whumpee didn’t bother to even try to get up off the floor.

Caretaker came to her. She gripped her right boot, tugging only slightly, but Whumpee had to bite her lip and jerk her head to the side so Caretaker wouldn’t see her cry.

“They’re kidnapping medics now?” she forced out, squeaky, just to try to distract herself.

“Apparently they are. Fast or slow?” Caretaker asked.

Whumpee sucked in a deep, sharp breath. “Fast.”

And Caretaker yanked the boot off all at once.

Whumpee screamed. She couldn’t help it, it was the worst pain she’d ever felt in her entire life, and it wasn’t even close. Miles worse than being shot.

“Breathe,” Caretaker said, and Whumpee was about to spit a remark out about that being oh so helpful when she felt Caretaker take her hand. The medic’s hands were warm and gentle, clasped around her own like a clamshell guarding a pearl. “I’m going to help you.”

She did breathe. Big, shaking breaths in time with Caretaker’s own, until the pain settled back to its already-awful baseline.

She didn’t dare look.

“You have gangrene,” Caretaker said as soon as Whumpee seemed in a place to hear it. “Your lower leg is rotting away. It needs to go or it’s going to take the rest of you with it.”

“Guards don’t care, I already tried ‘em. Fuck. I’m gonna die in here.” Whumpee did look up at her then, still teary, caring less about that by the moment.

Caretaker looked out through the bars. She dropped Whumpee’s hand, shuffling away toward the corner. When she seemed certain that no one else was looking, she silently lifted her shirt and pulled a small pocketknife from her waist. Just as quickly, she resheathed it and pulled her shirt back down.

“How did you–”

“They didn’t search me,” Caretaker whispered. “Probably assumed I didn’t have anything.”

Whumpee set her gaze back on the floor beside her head. “You’re going to cut my leg off with that?”

“We don’t have any other options.” Caretaker was right, Whumpee knew it, but still, the thought of that puny knife sawing into her for who knows how long when simply taking off her boot sent her into unimaginable pain…

“Here’s what I’m thinking,” Caretaker continued. “We’ll wait for a time the guards seem unlikely to interrupt us. The fact that they barely looked in when you screamed is a good sign.”

Whumpee nodded blearily. “I’ve been screaming a lot.”

“Good. But we’ll have to try to limit it so they don’t get suspicious. We’ll have to gag you. It’s going to be really, really bad. I’d never think of performing something like this on a conscious person unless it’s an absolute emergency, and that’s what this is. You are going to die if we don’t remove that rotting tissue. I’m going to have to use leverage to break the bone–my knife isn’t strong enough to cut through bone. Then I’ll cut through it as fast as I can, wrap it in my shirt, make a tourniquet, put as much pressure on it as I can, and hope you don’t bleed out or get infected again. It’s the best we’ve got. The good news is I’m pretty sure I can save your knee. Guess it’s a good thing they’re kidnapping medics.”

It sounded like hell.

She had no other choice.

“Okay. I’m in.”

The guards left them alone when they went for dinner–it wasn’t like they expected them to do much. And really, they wouldn’t care about the surgery itself anyway. But if they found Caretaker’s knife, they’d take it away, and then she really would die.

Caretaker pulled off her shirt and slung it over her shoulder, leaving her in a sweaty white tank top. She cut a strip off the bottom, tying it and fashioning it into a makeshift gag.

“This is going to hurt. Just try and stay still or this is going to be way harder than it needs to be.” She knelt down beside Whumpee, one knee bent at a 90-degree angle.

Whumpee nodded. Caretaker picked Whumpee’s leg up and hoisted it over her knee, sending a shockwave of pain through it, and as she rolled up the pant leg, Whumpee finally saw it.

Her leg was unrecognizable. Her toes were totally black, the skin of her foot and up her leg rotten to the bone, which was visible out the side and yellowed. Was it supposed to be yellowed? The whole thing looked more like a dead tree than a part of her body. It was a miracle she kept herself from throwing up, her vision spinning.

“Brace yourself.” Caretaker warned. She wrapped one hand around one fist, raising them up in the air like a hammer.  “This is the worst part. I’m going to try to snap the bone. I’m probably not going to be able to do it on the first try. Don’t look and don’t struggle.”

Whumpee whipped her head to the side. As soon as she did, Caretaker brought her fist down with all the force she had.

Something cracked.

For a moment, Whumpee thought there was a ringing in her ears, soon realizing it was the sound of her own muffled screams. It felt like every nerve in her leg had been pulverized, and she twisted away, unable to control herself in her desperation to escape it.

Caretaker gripped her firmly by the shoulder, twisting her right back. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t the right spot, it didn’t break where we needed it. The bone is weaker on the infection. If I cut there, you’ll still be infected. I need to go again.”

Whumpee shook her head vigorously. She’d rather die. She couldn’t do this.

“I’m sorry,” Caretaker repeated, her voice wavering for once. Distantly, Whumpee realized they were both crying.

The hammer of Caretaker’s fists came down again.

And again. And again.

Each time, Whumpee wailed, trying to leap away to death, though Caretaker easily brought her back. Finally, there was another crack, though everything below that hurt so much worse she could barely feel it.

“There. That’s the worst part,” Caretaker panted, as if she were the one exhausted. “It’ll be over soon. I promise.”

She flipped out that little knife and began to saw.

Whumpee was too spent to struggle anymore, even as she saw the floor grow slick with her blood, even as she felt the blade carve her up like a piece of meat, digging into the corded muscle of her calf.

But oddly enough, by the time she felt her leg thunk onto the cell floor, it hurt less than before they’d began.

Caretaker wrapped something tight just below her knee, and Whumpee whined. Caretaker kept wrapping and wrapping, and when she was done, she pressed her hand into the fabric over the stump of Whumpee’s leg, not letting go.

“It’s done,” she announced. “It’s done. How are you feeling?”

Arms shaking, Whumpee reached up and removed the gag from her mouth. “It hurts,” she whimpered, voice small like a child’s. Whimpered, something she couldn’t say she’d ever done before in her life.

“I know. I’m here. You’re going to live, Whumpee,” Caretaker said reverently.

Whumpee stared at the severed limb laying in a bloody heap on the floor.

She breathed.

-

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[whump-is-a-fabled-thing]

Kiss the Pain Away

Based on this post by @whumpdaydreamerx

Characters are from @thatbrokenpromise

Summary: Hateno suffers an injury that requires some painful work to heal. Chief calms him down with a trick that Hateno has used on him many times before.

Contents: paralysis, field surgery, object embedded in/cut out of skin, brief description of stitches, no anesthesia/painkillers

Words: 1200

AO3

We fought hard to keep Tumblr the same so please reblog if you like!

Skyloft called them dark keese; Hateno didn’t think much of it as they fought off a small swarm of them. They went down easily, like any other keese, but Hateno was wrong to assume that their simple appearance meant that he was safe from elemental attacks. Skyloft’s shouted warning was a moment too late as one keese dove past Hateno’s shield to sink its fangs in his arm. Hateno hissed, flexing his hand to dismiss his shield and immediately drove his stone fist into the bat’s body. The force of the blow sent the keese flying, dead on impact, but a wet crack and a lingering pain in Hateno’s arm told him that something had been left behind. Another keese swooped at him and he sent the signal for his shield to reform.

Nothing happened.

Not a good time!

Hateno ducked beneath the screeching bat and shouted “I need cover!”

Smith was there, slicing the remaining keese down while Hateno smacked some sense into his prosthetic. The impact jarred his left arm unplesantly and he growled, reaching to pull out the dislodged fang. His right arm fumbled again, useless fingers pushing it deeper into his skin instead.

“Shit!”

“What’s wrong?” Smith asked, kicking the last keese off her sword.

“My arm’s not responding,” Hateno complained, and tapped his pad to remove it altogether.

“Let’s see if Chief can take a look at it,” Smith suggested, her hand offered to help Hateno stand.

Hateno took it but his legs were weak under him, sending him staggering against Smith. “Woah- what the…”

“What’s this?” Smith asked instead, pointing at the angry red lump on Hateno’s arm. “Looks like Chief has more important things to check?”

“Ah yeah, I got bit.”

“So did Prince. It didn’t look like… that.”

Hateno cringed. “Riiight…”

“What’s going on?” Chief asked. Hateno hadn’t noticed Smith wave him over… or maybe he just had a sixth sense for trouble. Was that a standard part of medical training? “Weren’t you just wearing your arm?”

“It’s glitching so I took it off,” Hateno waved it off and offered his other arm for inspection. “This one got bit by one of those keese, I think you’ll need to pull it out.”

Chief frowned and turned Hateno’s arm over. “Pull what out?”

“The… fang…” Hateno hissed as he saw what Chief was looking at. “I tried to grab it and only pushed it in further. I didn’t think it would heal over so fast.”

Chief pushed down on the raw lump of skin on Hateno’s arm, making him yelp as he found the buried fang. “Sorry. Let’s find a place to sit so I can dig that out.”

Smith winced and clapped Hateno on the shoulder. “Well, have fun with that.”

“Thanks,” Hateno groaned as Chief led him to a quieter corner. His steps were unsteady, more uncoordination than nerves, and Chief picked up on it immediately.

“The paralytic is still in your system,” Chief stated. “Prince recovered within minutes.”

“What?”

“Skyloft said that those dark keese target your ability to fight. Rabbit and a few of the others reognized the type.”

“That’s why my arm stopped responding?” Hateno asked, and Chief nodded.

“I don’t know if the effect is a venom or a curse, but it’s safe to assume it’ll get worse the longer the fang remains in you.”

“Yeah,” Hateno sighed. “Let me grab my poppy milk and-”

Chief grabbed Hateno’s hand before he could touch his pad. “No painkiller. I’m sorry, but again, I don’t know how the paralytic could react.”

Hateno swore. “So I just have to hold still and feel you cutting me open?”

Chief directed him to sit down and pulled two scapels from his bag, comparing their sizes. “I could ask Smith to hold you?”

“No thanks.”

“Keeping still shouldn’t be an issue until I get the fang out,” Chief pointed out wryly. “But yes, you will feel it. You can have your medicine as soon as your arm is closed again, alright?”

“Yeah,” Hateno breathed, and extended his arm for Chief to work on; he tried to, anyway. Just like the prosthetic, it no longer moved when he told it to. “…You’ll have to move my arm.”

Chief hummed acknowledgement and stretched Hateno’s arm out. He cleaned the area around the keese bite and Hateno narrowly avoided biting his tongue as Chief raised the scapel to his arm.

“Deep breaths. I’ll have it out soon.”

Hateno opened his mouth to retort that he was breathing but an involuntary scream left him instead as Chief made the first cut into his skin. It was hard to stop screaming after that. Chief didn’t allow him time to catch his breath as he sliced deeper through layers of muscle, searching for buried fang. Hateno couldn’t pull away, he couldn’t fight back, he couldn’t even wipe the tears from his own face. He was trapped, not by Chief’s loose grip on his arm, but by that fucking curse the keese had embedded in him.

Chief exchanged his scapel for tweezers and Hateno did bite his tongue this time as metal and bone scraped inside his skin. Chief quickly pulled the fang out, his own hand starting to shake as the curse reached him too. Hateno watched through blurry eyes as, without a moment’s hesitation, Chief threw the fang into the fire that someone had started. There were a few startled yelps but no signs of a magical explosion.

They both sat quietly for a minute, Chief breathing heavily and Hateno still shaking with sobs that refused to stop even though it was over. His eyes were squeezed shut against the tears, so he didn’t realize that Chief had moved closer until there was a hand on the back of his neck and soft lips pressed to his.

That was certainly a surprise, though Hateno wasted no time in desperately leaning into the kiss. He tasted salt and copper and felt a warm glow in his chest because Chief had kissed him first. He was always so shy about it, Hateno had assumed that Chief had forgotten that he could initiate.

Hateno was reminded fondly of their first time, when Chief had been bedridden with stitches down his back. What Hateno had told Chief then stood true now.

“They say that a kiss makes the pain go away.”

He didn’t want Chief to pull away, even though rationally he knew that his arm was still open and bleeding. He opened his eyes to shining sea-green, a bemused smile on lips he tried to chase.

“Ah- not yet,” Chief said, holding him back with a hand on his chest. “Let me close this up, first.”

Hateno groaned in disappointment, but he couldn’t deny his relief as Chief helped him down a vial of poppy milk. He sighed, feeling the pain dull even as Chief pulled a needle and thread through the wound.

He waited patiently, watching as Chief bandaged his arm and went through the long process of putting his tools away. His mind was fuzzy when Chief finally turned to look at him expectantly, but this time it was Hateno who pulled Chief closer for another kiss.

[theoneeyedgoldenwolf]

Unique way with Fairy Magic

This is long ago written story. As part of the tag game quite a while ago, I put this title as well as few others up for people to ask for more info. So, this was asked about while the others didn't get interest. Anyway, promised to upload it during May and so here it is. =)

Whumptober 2023, Day 16, Story 3: Flatline

Summary: A surprise attack in middle of a night kills Time. Hyrule and Warriors are NOT accepting this loss.

CW: Temporary Major Character Death, arrow to heart, field surgery

In AO3

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When he heard the shout of warning he moved as quickly as he could. But unfortunately that wasn’t fast enough. The first arrow flew right past him but the enemy was wise enough to have anticipated that. The second arrow came right next to the first and struck into its target with full precision.

Time knew it was over. The moment he saw the second arrow, he knew he had no chances to avoid. The strike was powerful. It would’ve even gone though his armor. Yet, sadly the attack had come in middle of the night. None of them had much of other than maybe chainmail to defend them. And that wasn’t enough as the arrow tore through his chest and lodged into his heart.

He fell hard into the ground. He barely could move. He was desperately trying to get air in but he was more like a fish on a dry land. He was scared, terrified of dying but he knew there was nothing to stop it from claiming his life. He fought for each breath, for each second he could snatch for himself. Praying that by some odd miracle he could survive. Yet, he knew there wasn’t such luck. His body was giving up on him. He was falling numb. He knew he was crying but he couldn’t care less about it. He was going to die and there was nothing that could prevent it.

He knew the battle was raging around him and he simply prayed that the others would be luckier than him. That they’d survive and keep on going. This was the end of the line for him. Suddenly his gaze fell into two faces by him. He barely could recognize them but he wasn’t scared of them, that was all he knew for certain. He could realize they were talking but he couldn’t hear the words.

Suddenly there was more pain on his chest. He arched his back and opened his mouth but no sound came out of him. He was already gone. He was certain of that. He couldn’t hear his heartbeat. He couldn’t feel his heartbeat. And yet, he was still there. Somehow, oddly, conscious. Still like a fish on dry land he kept on desperately trying to get air into his lungs. To keep the blood flowing. To hang on to the shreds of his very life. And yet, somewhere in the back of his head he knew, he knew to be dead. Still, on some crazily odd way, he was still breathing, still holding on to consciousness, still staying alive. None of that made any of sense to him. He was dead for certain and yet… He was alive.

Suddenly he arched and gasped. He gulped precious air into his lungs. He couldn’t understand. His heart was beating. He could feel it. He could hear it. How the hell was that possible? The exhaustion, the confusion and the absolute relief of having, by some strangely odd way, survived, was bit too much for him. He couldn’t hold on to his consciousness anymore as the darkness fell around him.

“Time! Look out!” Warriors screamed out as he saw the archer. His eyes widened in horror as the Old Man got struck into chest by an arrow. “NO!” He shouted and already dashed towards the man as he fell. “Take those fucking archers down!” He commanded while already hitting the ground and sliding next to his fallen little brother.

“Sprite!” Warriors called in terror while taking in the situation. He was not going to lose him. “Hyrule! I need you here!” He shouted and the healer came next to him on that instant. “I need to take that arrow out and you…” The Captain started and looked at his brother. “You need to keep him alive.”

Hyrule was fully confused. “How am I supposed to do that?!” He half shouted. “I can heal but… I can’t…!” He continued while feeling himself freak out while glancing from their dying leader into Warriors and back.

“You know the body of a Hylian better than anyone.” Warriors stated out. “You just need to use that healing magic of yours in a new way.” He continued while already tearing Time’s clothes and taking out a knife. “You need to keep his lungs working and blood flowing while keeping it away from the wound in his heart. Don’t heal the wound before I give you the rights.” The Captain commanded and Hyrule nodded. He was still shaky and freaked out but now he had something to work with. He took once a deep breath, closed his eyes and put his magic into work.

Warriors worked as fast, carefully and precisely as he could. He steeled himself for what he was up and about to do as he cut his little brother open with the knife. He fought against his own panic and nausea as he forced his way into Time’s heart. He had no idea if this would work or what kind of damage it would leave in its wake. And yet, he couldn’t dare to think about the idea of losing one of his comrades while he had even slight inkling of how to save him. He worked quickly on the arrow to take it out without causing more of damage than needed.

“Heal him!” Warriors commanded the second the arrow was out. “Make his heart beat.” He nearly begged as he watched the wound heal right before his eyes. “Just… Bring him back to us, please…” He almost pleaded and gasped in shock as Time gasped for air and took deep, heavy and nearly panicked breaths afterwards. “Sprite?” The Captain called tentatively but Time fell unconscious way too soon.

They couldn’t move away from their current spot. Warriors didn’t dare to move Time in fear of something going wrong. At least he was breathing and alive but… He couldn’t be certain of anything else. The enemies were taken down by the time their leader’s fatal wound had been healed. None of the eight Heroes slept after that. They all were too freaked out and worried while glancing at Time every now and then.

Time woke up with a sharp and freaked out inhale. He scrambled upwards in near panic. Both of his eyes were open as his breathing was fast and terrified. “Calm down!” The shout came too close for his comfort and his scared gaze searched out for enemies. The hands were on him nearly instantly after the words. “Calm down, Time, calm down!” He was being forced downwards back to the ground but there was some familiarity in the voice. “It’s okay, Sprite. Just calm down, please.”

Time blinked few times before the worst of his terror finally let go. He was laying on the ground again with strong arms on his shoulders holding him down surprisingly gently. Slowly his gaze recognized Warriors. “Captain?” He asked with a frown while still breathing bit fast. He blinked few times while Warriors nodded in relief and clearly relaxed. As he slowly got his breathing into calmer pace, he already jerked a bit as something  made itself known in his mind and he let his gaze wander around him. There were eight worried pairs of eyes on him and he sighed in relief. Yet, he was still clearly distraught of the situation and confused of how he was still alive.

“Just breathe, Time.” Warriors told to him while watching their leader going from terror and panic into recognition and confusion into worry and checking everyone’s there.

“How?” Time asked quietly while having his eyes closed and trying to calm down. He could clearly hear the shocked gasps around him.

“Uh… How to breathe…?” Warriors queried in both confusion and bit freaking out. Yet, before he could come up with any answer to the question, Time already shot him such a glare that made him recoil bit backwards.

“Shut it, Captain! How the hell I’m alive?!” Time snapped at him with such force that each of the eight Heroes were taken thoroughly off guard. His gaze stayed in the Captain as he waited for an answer.

Warriors gulped once before shrugging. “By being stubborn.” He finally answered with a lopsided grin. Time groaned and shook his head.

“I highly doubt that’s the actual answer.” The Chain’s leader growled and returned his less aggressive glare into the Captain.

Warriors sighed and smiled bit sorrowfully. “Well, that’s definitely part of the answer but… Other than that… By a miracle.” He answered almost fondly.

Time chuckled darkly and shook his head. “I don’t buy miracles.” He replied while still glaring at the Captain.

“I don’t really know what else to tell then.” Warriors started and glanced at Hyrule. “Other than I and Hyrule… We… I-it was quite a gamble, really.” He almost stammered while wishing to wipe away the memory of how they had fought to save Time’s life. “We… Tried something… Different.” He explained and gulped while avoiding to look at the group’s leader. Time simply frowned and listened, waiting for him to continue. Eventually the Captain sighed heavily, closed his eyes and slumped a bit. “Hyrule kept your body alive while I worked the arrow out of you.” He finally whispered and flinched at the round of gasps around him.

Time stared at the Captain in full shock. That certainly hadn’t been the answer he had waited for. “That…” He started and gulped once. “T-that kinda explains some things for certain…” He replied with slightly shaking voice. Eventually he sighed heavily, closed his eye and relaxed onto the ground. “I should be dead.” He whispered quietly.

“Well, for the record, each and every one of us is more than grateful that you’re still alive and with us.” Warriors told with a small smile while slowly calming down. He truly prayed he’d never have to do something like this ever again.

“So am I, Captain, so am I.” Time replied while calming down. He wasn’t in any of hurry to repeat such a situation but at least he knew now that his brothers could come up with some very unique ways to save a life if needed. He smiled and opened his eye to look at the duo that had saved him. “Thank you. Both of you, thank you for saving my life there.”

Both Warriors and Hyrule relaxed and smiled a bit. “You would’ve done the same, I’m sure.” Warriors replied while feeling far calmer than for quite a while. “Just take it easy, Time. Rest. You were way too close to death’s door for our liking.” He half commanded before giving a simple nod to the rest of the Chain. The danger was over and Time would be all right again. That was all that they really needed as they started to make their ways either into working with something or to take a nap. Each of them did tell that they were more than grateful to have him back safe and sound with them. Hyrule and Warriors stayed by him just to keep eye on his wellbeing after such a drastic operation on the field. Both were still worried as Time calmed down and fell asleep. Yet, luckily, there wasn’t anything to be worried about. Time was back on his feet already by the evening even though he did take it easy just to ease out Hyrule’s and Warriors’ worries.

[whump-about-it]

The Only Way Out

@whumpuary Day 9: Trapped Under Rubble/ Gunpoint/ Out of Time

CW: implied amputation, implied cauterization

The cave in had been as expected as it was unexpected. It had surprised everyone when it happened, but considering they were in an old mine that had been abandoned because it had kept collapsing, everyone on the team had gone into the mission knowing full well it was a possibility.

"Roll Call!" Team Leader yelled once the dust had settled and the booming in the distance didn't seem so close to affect them anymore. "Who's not dead?"

"Teammate 1" Came a voice not too far from Team Leader.

"Teammate 2" Another sounded from farther down the mine shaft.

"Medic!" A voice yelled directly in Team Leader's ear. "Who screamed earlier? Are you alright?"

"That was me. Teammate 4. A rock hit me in the head, but I think I'm okay." A fourth voice called from somewhere behind them.

"They're probably not." Medic whispered and a dimming flashlight flickered to life. Medic's dust covered face was illuminated eerily behind it as they swept it over the small area looking for Teammate 4.

In the distance in front of Team Leader, another flashlight flickered on, brighter than Medic's. It illuminated the whole of the room to reveal that the exit, the way the team had come was almost completely covered in rubble, blocking all of their exits with the possible exception of Teammate 3, who was the smallest and most agile of them.

"Teammate 3" Team Leader called. "Are you dead?"

Silence followed. Team Leader's stomach instantly twisted into knots and they regret being so cavalier with the death jokes.

"Teammate 3!" They called again, Their eyes darting over the room.

Teammate 1 was standing off to Team Leader's side, near another pile of rubble that had not been there a few minutes ago. Their shirt was ripped and there was a large quantity of blood on their leg, that they of course were not acknowledging. Teammate 2 who had the working flashlight, was farther down, smartly away from most of the rock fall and in the part of the tunnel that was still open. Teammate 4 and Medic were together now near the wall of rubble. Teammate 4 was in fact bleeding profusely from a nasty gash on their forehead. But they looked lucid enough as they and Medic looked back at Team Leader with alarmed expressions.

"Teammate 3!" Team Leader yelled again holding terrified eye contact with Medic. In the silence that followed, there was finally a response. A tiny whine immitted from a pile of rubble near the corner of the wall, so quiet, Team Leader wouldn't have been able to hear it if a pin had dropped at the same moment.

"not dead yet, leader."

Team Leader was over to the rock pile in a second. Pushing and throwing rocks out of the way until Teammate 3 began to emerge among the rubble.

They had a bad gash on the side of their head. When Teammate 2, who had jumped in to help, moved a rock off their pelvis they had screamed in pain. Their femur appeared broken. So did one of their arms, which they had thrown over their face to protect it. Their other arm was in the worst shape. Or so Team Leader assumed it must be. It was completely buried under the wall of rubble. Team Leader could just barely make out Teammate 3's elbow before their entire forearm disappeared at the bottom of the massive pile heavy boulders that was blocking the team's exit.

"Medic!" Team Leader yelled over their shoulder. But Medic was already there; crouching just behind Team Leader with their flickering flashlight.

"Out of my way." They ordered Team Leader in an authoritative voice that made Team Leader jump out of their path without hesitation. They watched Medic for a minute as they shined their flashlight into Teammate 3's eyes and palpatated their body, making Teammate 3 scream in pain, all while asking them soft questions Teammate 3 could barely manage the answers to. When Medic finally got to the concerning arm injury Team Leader finally snapped out of their trance and turned to the rest of their crew.

"We have to start dismantling this wall." They ordered. "Teammate 2 help me with this. Teammate 1, you help Medic. Teammate 4, you just rest. I'm concerned about your head."

"Wait." Medic said over their shoulder. "Don't touch the wall yet. If it destablizes it could all come falling on Teammate 3 and I."

"How else are we supposed to get Teammate 3 out of there then?"

Medic stood up and turned towards Team Leader. In the shadowy light of the two flashlights, their face looked grave, but Team Leader was pretty sure it would have looked like that in the sunshine too. They walked over to Team Leader and gave a minute shake of their head.

"Even if we could get out of here, we wouldn't be able to save it. The bones are dust." Medic whispered so only Team Leader could hear. Their heart sank, but as they looked into Medic's dark, apologetic eyes, they knew they wouldn't be saying this if it wasn't absolutely true. This was going to be horrible.

"Okay. Change of plans" They said still holding eye contact with Medic. "Medic is in charge. Listen to them."

Medic nodded gravely and went over to their pack. Team Leader felt defeated. Deflated. They were supposed to protect their team, but here they were buried in an underground mine with almost no one knowing where they were. Three people were injured, one of whom was close to death's doorstep and about to get even closer.

You haven't failed as a leader yet.

They tried to tell themselves.

If you get everyone out of here alive you did the best you could.

But this wasn't even about their leadership really. Teammate 3 was looking at them with partially glazed over eyes, lips parted in the most confusion they could muster with the concussion they were probably sporting. They had no idea what was about to happen.

Medic came back with their medical kit.

"I know we all have flasks here. Get them out. Who ever has the highest proof gets to save there's, the rest of you, feed yours to Teammate 3. This is the only pain medication we have here. Teammate 1, I'm going to need your help, get behind Teammate 3 and help support them. Teammate 2, Teammate 4, you guys will be holding the flashlights on us, Team Leader-"

Medic turned to teamleader and handed them a wad of gauze and a book of matches.

"I don't have equiptment here to do stitches when we're done with this." They told Team Leader in a low voice. "You take the last flask of alchol and be ready to soak the gauze and light her up as soon as I say alright.?"

Team Leader nodded, feeling a little detatched as they agreed to Medic's orders. Medic nodded as well and swallowed hard before looking Team Leader back in the eye.

"You have the saw, right?"

It was only then, aparently, that Teammate 3 seemed to realize what was about to happen.

"Medic?" They said, the glazed look in their eyes suddenly fading into pure terror. They feably pushed away the flask Teammate 1 was now feeding them with their one hand and tried to sit up as best they could.

"Medic. Why do you need the saw? Medic? Why do you need the saw?"

Their voice got shriller with each word. Both Team Leader and Medic stoically ignored them as the saw was produced from Team Leader's pack and handed to Medic. They couldn't even look each other in the eye as the tool that was about to alter Teammate 3's life forever changed hands between them.

"Medic? You don't have to do this. Please don't do this."

"Finish feeding them the alchol." Medic ordered in a hollow, blank voice. Teammate 1 obliged and pressed the flask back to Teammate 3's lips and forced their head back to tip it into their throat. Teammate 3 screamed and moaned around the neck of the flask. Tears bursting in their eyes.

"Medic! Please!" They screamed shrilly once the flask was empty. "Please don't cut off my arm! There has to be another way!"

Medic walked over to them and knelt close to Teammate 3's arm.

"There isn't " They said sadly. "I'm sorry."

As Teammate 3 opened their mouth to scream again Medic suddenly produced a second wad of gauze and shoved it in their mouth.

"We can't have you screaming too loud or the sound waves could cause another collapse." They explained Teammate 3's eyes widened with a mixture of terror and anger, and they began to scream against their gag again and struggle. Medic purposefully looked away from them and at Teammate 1 who had already taken up their place behind Teammate 3.

"You're job is going to be make sure Teammate 3 moves as little as possible throughout this. Hold them as still as you can." Medic told them. Teammate 1 nodded and proceeded to manvouer themselves around Teammate 3 so that they had them practically imobilized while still managing to stay out of Medic's way. It didn't escape Team Leader's notice that Teammate 1 had managed to position themselves so that Teammate 3 wouldn't be able to see what was about to happen. Before totally settling themselves they leaned forward and kissed Teammate 3 on the side of the head.

"You're going to be okay." They said in a low voice and Medic began to postion themselves to start the procedure. Team Leader was so focused on the building horror that was happening infront of them that they at first didn't notice Teammate 4 hold out the final flask to them.

"Here boss." They whispered. When Team Leader looked up at them, they could see the reflection of the flahslights shine in their eyes. They had started crying. After a moment Team Leader noticed for the first time that they had tears running down their face as well.

"Just so you know. Teammate 1, Teammate 2 and I all took swigs of it. But there should be plenty left."

Team Leader nodded and took it from them. They didn't have the heart to be mad about that. And when they looked over at Medic, they were looking back at the flask as though they were jealous they weren't able to take a drink from it. Team Leader looked Medic directly in the eye and took a swig themselves.

"We're ready when you are Medic."

Medic gave them a nod. Then looked back at Teammate 3 one last time. Teammate 3 had dissolved into tears and was moaning something over and over again through their gag that Team Leader was pretty sure was "please"

"You're probably going to pass out from the pain quickly." Medic said trying to maintain a clinical voice, and failing. "Don't try and fight for consciousness. I promise we'll take care of you. When you wake up again this will all be over."

Teammate 3 began to cry harder, and Medic paused, their cold clinical expression breaking.

"I'm sorry Teammate 3. I'm so sorry that I have to do this."

With that Medic turned back Teammate 3's arm and picked up the saw.

[side-shuffling-hyperfixations]

Febuwhump Alt. Day 16: Emergency Surgery

If anyone had to carve his side open—back open—to find the delightful little tracker-explosive combo Bishop’s people had planted, Mikey would rather it be his brothers.

No time to reach Don’s lab. Mikey couldn’t risk leading their pursuers to invade another lair or worse, triggering detonation somehow on the way there. No anesthesia, no painkillers—only Raph’s arms, hugging him tighter than he had in years against every uncontrollable shudder and jolt as Donnie probed Leo’s perfectly even incision, and one of their belts ground between his teeth with jaw-popping force as he screamed and screamed and screamed.