Surgery | Stitches | Being Monitored | “It’s for your own good”
Contains: generic whumpee and caretaker, needle mentions, mild blood, surgery aftermath, nonconsensual drugging, bedside vigil
Whumpee woke slowly to the sound of rhythmic beeping. It took a moment for them to pry their eyes open, and another to orient themself with where they were. Turning their head, they found Caretaker slumped in a chair next to the bed, dozing with their mouth hanging open.
The pain wasn’t as bad as they thought it might be. Probably had something to do with the IV drip attached to their arm. Pain or no pain, though, they couldn’t keep lying there. This fight wasn’t finished. Just because they got injured didn’t mean that they could stop, there was far too much to do that was way more important than their health.
Trying to stay as quiet as possible, they pushed themself up off the pillows and swung their legs over the side of the bed. The injury on their stomach felt tight and strange, but not really painful. Caretaker’s head moved slightly, and they froze, but they remained asleep.
The problem was that they were going to have to disconnect themself from the monitors, and they didn’t know what would happen then. There was no other choice, though. They carefully pulled off the wire, and the room filled with a deafening, high-pitched shriek, sending Whumpee scrambling for the machine.
A hand gripped their arm, pulling them back onto the bed. “Whumpee! What do you think you’re doing?”
“Sorry!” They winced in apology as they sat back down. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
Caretaker leaned over to push a button on the monitor and silence it before turning a glare back on Whumpee. “Why are you up? Have you lost your mind? You just had surgery, Whumpee, you’re going to tear out your stitches and start bleeding again!”
“I’ll be careful!” Whumpee protested.
“No, you’ll lie back down and stay there until the doctor says you can move.”
They scowled. “I can’t just lie in bed while everyone else is still out there risking their lives. I have to help.”
“You already risked your life, and almost lost it, remember? You’ll be of no help if you collapse or bleed to death. You have to heal first.”
Whumpee shook their head. “There’s no time for that.”
They stood again, but Caretaker did, too, grabbing them by the shoulders to stop them. “Whumpee, please. Don’t fight me on this.”
Raising their arms, Whumpee attempted to push them away. “Let me go! I need to help!” They could feel the surgery site pulling, but paid it no attention.
Unfortunately, they were still weak from blood loss and sedatives. It took Caretaker very little effort to push them back down onto the bed, only letting go briefly to punch a button before pinning them down again. “I didn’t want to have to do this, but you’re giving me no choice.”
“Let me go, Caretaker!” They were so busy fighting to get up that they barely noticed someone rushing into the room. It definitely caught their attention, though, when the nurse picked up a syringe and held it to their IV port.
Somehow they had a feeling they knew what was in that syringe. “No…no no, don’t!”
“I’m sorry, Whumpee,” Caretaker sighed. “It’s for your own good.”
Seconds after the drug was dispensed, Whumpee’s eyelids began to grow heavy. “Please,” they whispered, the fight leaving their body. “I need…I need to…”
They were asleep before they could finish the sentence.
Whumptober Day 5 - every whumpee’s needs | blood loss | running out of air | hyperthermia
content: major character death, stabbing, begging
tell me if i missed anything!
———
“I’m sorry for leaving.” Whumper doesn’t pause. “I’m so so sorry for leaving. I won’t do it again, I swear.” The words leave Whumpee’s mouth as fresh tears leave their eyes when they see Whumper raise the sledgehammer again. They promise that they’ll be good now, so very good. No, Whumper, no need to break the other leg. Please, there’s really no need. They’ll behave well, they will. Please please please don’t.
The hopelessness doesn’t stop them from trying. But Whumper doesn’t care. Whumper barely notices as they raise the sledgehammer again and again and again, and Whumpee’s screeams slowly die out as their vocal cords can take it no longer. What good will it do, anyway? An abandoned warehouse with no one nearby merits no chance of a rescue.
“You lost that chance, Whumpee. You lost it when you ran away. I’m not looking for defective toys, you’re nothing to me now.”
They nod frantically, trying so hard to appease the person holding a weapon above them. Please, they’ll do anything. Please, make it stop.
“You want it to end, don’t you?” Whumpee’s eyes dare to light up with hope. That expression falls and gives way to pure terror when Whumper pulls out a knife. “I’ll grant your wish.”
There is no voice left to scream when Whumper starts stabbing, and stabbing; an insanity borne from fury driving their actions. Eventually, they stop, straightening their clothes and drying the knife.
They smile, before turning to leave. “I’m sure Caretaker will be glad to see you again.”
—
An eternity of pain came, never leaving, never ending. They waited. For what, they weren’t sure. Whumper had left them to suffer alone. To die alone.
Why had they mentioned Caretaker? Had they killed them too? No, they couldn’t think that way, they couldn’t. Then, there would really be no hope left in the world.
Whumpee heard frantic footsteps, getting louder and louder. Had Whumper came back for them? Did they regret what they did? They almost snorted; Whumper was too self-assured to ever regret anything. To ever feel guilt.
“Whumpee, can you hear me?” Huh, that’s funny. It sounded like Caretaker. “Whumpee, please. Please tell me you’re still here.”
Slowly, they opened their tired eyes. If they squinted, it kind of looked like them too. Only a little bit though, their eyes were blurred by now. They couldn’t make out any distinct features even though the person was right above them.
A hand touched their shoulder, and they flinched. The hand pulled away quickly.
Wait, was that…real? A real hand from a real person, could it be?
“Caretaker?”
The figure nodded, quickly quickly quickly. The hand reappeared on their shoulder, and this time they didn’t flinch. Caretaker’s voice cracked. “Yes. Yes, Whumpee, it’s me. Don’t leave, I’ve just found you again.”
“Your clothes…they’re gonna get bloody.” Whumpee’s voice was soft, gentle. They couldn’t speak any louder, anyway.
“They don’t matter. My clothes don’t matter so, please.”
Whumpee smiled weakly. They knew there was nothing they could do. “I’m sorry, Caretaker.”
Blow to the Head | Slurred Words | “I can’t think straight”
Contains: generic whumpee and caretaker, concussion, dizziness
“Whoa, Whumpee, what happened to you?” Caretaker took them by the shoulders, trying to catch their gaze.
“Nothin’.” Everything was…sideways. Like when they were a kid, spinning until they couldn’t spin anymore, then collapsing on the floor and feeling the whole room tilt underneath them. That’s what this felt like. Somehow both Caretaker and Whumpee were tilting, spinning, swinging, but not falling. “’m…f-fine.”
“No, I really don’t think you are.” Caretaker’s hand came up to touch their cheek. “Your pupils are uneven. Did you hit your head?”
“Um…m-...m-maybe?” Whumpee scrunched up their face to think, but that made pain stab through their temples. “Ow. I don’...don’ really…r’member…’s hard to…”
“Okay, okay. It’s alright, don’t worry about it.” They were pretty sure Caretaker was smiling at them, but it was hard to tell when their face wouldn’t stay still. “Let’s just go find somewhere for you to lie down.”
“‘kay.” Whumpee was pretty tired, so they weren’t going to argue. “Soun’s good.”
Contains: generic whumpee and caretaker, flashback, panic attack
They couldn’t breathe. The images of the past had them by the throat, pounding into their mind with a force that left their head spinning and chest aching. It wouldn’t stop, one memory after another, every horrific moment, all of the sounds and the fear and the pain right there as if it was happening all over again.
It took what seemed like ages for the present to come back into focus. Took even longer before Caretaker could coax normal breaths out of them, before the tears stopped pouring unchecked and the shaking in their limbs calmed to small tremors.
Even then, they didn’t speak for several minutes. Caretaker sat patiently with them through the whole thing, touching only when Whumpee was ready, at which point they moved so that Whumpee could lean their head on Caretaker’s shoulder. Together they drew in deep breaths, staring silently off into the distance.
“I think…” Whumpee began at last, their voice weak and exhausted. “I think I need…help.”
They’d tried for so long to deny it, to be strong and handle everything on their own. But they were tired of fighting. Tired of being alone through all of this. They were just…so, so tired.
Caretaker’s hand found theirs and gave it a tight squeeze. “Okay.” They sounded a bit choked up. “Whatever you need, Whumpee, I’ll make sure it happens. I am right here for you. Always, okay?”
Whumpee turned their face in to Caretaker’s shoulder. “Okay,” they whispered. Somewhere deep inside them, underneath the layers of fear and fatigue, a little flame of hope flickered to life.
Contains: generic whumpee and caretaker, strangulation, panic, caretaker whump
Whumpee was having a nightmare. Caretaker knew they got them sometimes, but they’d never actually witnessed one before. But tonight the two of them were sharing a room, and Caretaker woke to the sound of whimpering and thrashing.
Concerned, they swung their feet to the floor and leaned forward, eyes squinting to see through the darkness. “Whumpee?” they whispered. “Whumpee, wake up.”
There was no response. Whumpee groaned and tossed their head, and Caretaker’s stomach sank with sympathy. Standing, they crept over to the other bed and reached out, gently touching Whumpee’s arm and shaking it a little.
“Whumpee! It’s okay, just wake up!”
The next instant, Whumpee bolted upright and locked their hand around Caretaker’s throat. Their eyes were wild with fear and hazy with sleep, but their grip didn’t falter when Caretaker’s hands grabbed their wrist, attempting to free themself.
“Whumpee,” they choked, struggling to draw breath. “Please…it’s me…you’re…safe…”
Their grip only tightened. Caretaker’s instincts were dying to take over and make them hit or kick or anything to get free, but they couldn’t let themself hurt Whumpee. Not after everything they’d been through already, not when they knew that all of this was because they’d been hurt.
They could only hang onto Whumpee’s wrists as black spots started to cover their vision. With the last air in their lungs, they croaked out the nickname they’d always called Whumpee by.
They weren’t aware enough to see the change that came over Whumpee’s face. All they knew was that suddenly they were dropped to the floor, coughing violently as air flooded back into their lungs. Whumpee flung themself backwards, across the room, cowering in the corner with wide eyes.
“It’s…it’s okay,” Caretaker panted, reaching a hand toward them.
“No, it’s not!” Whumpee’s voice shook. “I almost…I could have killed you! I told you not to try to wake me from a nightmare, what if…?” They sobbed. “If I had killed you…”
“You didn’t!” Caretaker painstakingly got to their feet. Their throat was throbbing. “You didn’t kill me. I’m alright. I know you told me, I just…didn’t want you to suffer, okay? All that matters is that we’re both okay now.” Slowly, they walked toward Whumpee. “May I hug you?”
Whumpee fell into their arms, and they held each other tight, each trembling and trying to catch their breath. “We’re okay,” Caretaker whispered. “We’re okay.”
Contains: generic whumpee and caretaker, captivity, rescue, blindfold
They’d longed for light, those long days locked in the cell. There were no windows, and the few times the door did open there was only more darkness beyond. Whumpee’s eyes had adjusted to it as best they could - not that there was much to see in the cell, anyway. But they’d dreamed of the sun, of basking in its rays and taking in the beautiful, colorful sights of the world once more.
Rescue came, at last. The cell door opened for the final time, and Whumpee finally got to stumble through it, following the gentle hands that guided them down the dark hallway toward freedom. It was so close. Their battered, weak body moved a little quicker, ready for fresh air and sunlight.
But when the door to freedom was thrown open and the daylight flooded in, Whumpee cried out and threw themself backward, trying to escape it. They closed their eyes, but even through their eyelids it hurt. With their back to the door and their arm slung across their face, they tried to catch their breath, involuntary tears from the sudden strain wetting their eyelashes.
They were finally free, and they couldn’t even enjoy it. Couldn’t even take the last few steps to leave this place behind. They tried again to look, squinting, but everything was blinding white and they couldn’t hold their eyes open against it.
“Here.” Caretaker placed a hand on their shoulder, then something soft touched their face. “Is it okay if I tie this around your eyes? It’ll help until we can get you somewhere that’s not as bright.”
Reluctantly, Whumpee lowered their arm, eyes squeezed tightly shut, and allowed themself to be blindfolded. “It’s just…temporary, right?”
“Of course,” Caretaker reassured them. “We’ve just got to take it slow, alright? We’ll introduce a little bit of light at a time.”
