#no.14

[sabeedraws]

whumptober #14 wounded caretaker

new headcanon unlocked?? maybe Rumi is really good at first aid because she started helping Celine at a young age (not this young but), the first time Huntrix gets injured, Zoey and Mira are baffled by the revelation

[jasmines-library]

As Good As Dead

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WHUMPTOBER DAY FOURTEEN :Prompt: Left for Dead

Summary: You are the daughter of the Joker and its safe to say that you have a very complicated relationship. So what happens when you get injured by one of the Batfamily and he leaves you to die.

Warnings: blood, near death experiences.

Word count: 1.1k

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER 2024

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Agony. Hot and bright and burning. That was the only thing you knew in that moment. The katana had pierced straight through your chest cavity, pinning you helplessly to the ground as you lay there in a pool of your own blood. You had screamed. That you were certain of. You had felt it rip your throat raw. You had cried out: but no one came. Not even your own father who was more hellbent on chasing his nemesis, Batman, through the streets of Gotham than he was with helping his own child. 

You watched, clawing at your own chest as your father looked back at you. Your eyes met his. They were full of this dark and twisted insanity that no villain could rival. And sadistically, with not so much as even a glint of remorse on his face, The Joker turned on his heel and left, chasing the infamous black silhouette that you had come to loathe down the street. 

You and your father had a complicated relationship. You loved him, of course. He was your father. He taught you everything you knew; trained you to be a strong fighter. But it seemed the entirety of your bonding seemed to be around Bruce Wayne and his pesky little birds. He was obsessed with being better than him. And for years you believed that he was right. That Bruce was the villain. But when your father went to Arkham things started to change. You started to realise that there was more to life than being better than everyone else. And so you began to grow apart. And so he left you when you needed him the most. 

You weren’t sure how long you laid there for. But your body was beginning to grow numb. At first, the pain turned from hot to cold. Your body began to shiver against your sticky clothes. And then the cold began to take over your fingertips until you could no longer feel them. Slowly but surely you began to grow numb. To feel nothing but numb. As you stared up at the sky, the edges of your vision began to fade. You could no longer make out the edges of the skyscrapers and the neon signs, but could only see the clouds which passed in the sky above. Or atleast you thought they were clouds. There was a high possibility that it was your own vision that had clouded over and that was what you were seeing. You didn’t know anymore. 

Your fingers twitched against the concrete. You had long since given up trying to pull out the offending sword instead leaving it to protrude gruesomely from between your ribs. Your fingers were covered in blood from your previous efforts though. It had cracked and dried sticky on your fingers.

The area around you was near silent. There was nothing around you besides the odd sound of a passing car in the distance. Strange for a city. But then there was the voice. One. No. Two voices. They were talking to each other. And from the volume of it whatever they were talking about was rather panicked. They seemed to be discussing something of importance. The voices began to get closer and closer and then the higher, more worried one stopped before speaking out. 

“Holy shit— they’re alive-“ Damian exclaimed, slightly startled by the state you were in. He wasn’t sure why. He was the one who had driven the katana through your chest in the first place. He hadn’t meant to do so much damage. The guilt had been eating away at him since the minute he heard the scream leave his throat. Batman had one rule that Damian was actually keen to follow. No killing unless you absolutely have to. He could tell that you weren’t really invested in the fight. Your punches were lacking their usual sharpness and you only seemed to be on the defence. Damian had noticed that about you recently. You weren’t too keen on helping your father. And he wanted to know more. He had witnessed firsthand the gaze your father had shot you before he left. And he hadn’t practically begged Dick to come back here and look for you. 

“Holy shit….” Dick breathed out taking in the scene around him. 

A gentle tap on the side of your face and Damian was in front of you. His hands came up to your neck, feeling for a pulse. It was incredibly slow and weak but there none the less. “Their pulse is slow.”’

“I’ll call medical. See if you can get them to respond to you.” Dick said before stepping away for a moment to contact medical. 

“Hey….can you hear me?” Damian asked you. 

You blinked at him slowly and tried to move your lips but no words came out. Instead a trail of blood dribbled from your lips. 

Damian panicked. “Okay. Okay. Don’t try to talk, save your strength. We- we’re going to get you help.” Damian could hardly take his eyes off you his katana. How it poked sickeningly from your chest, wedged between your ribs. He couldn’t understand why he was was even bothering to help you. You were the enemy. But you were also human too. 

“Medics are on their way” Dick confirmed. “Did you get her to respond?” 

Damian just simply shook his head, but Dick had figured as much. “We just gotta keep her awake until the medics arrive. They should be here soon.”

Damian bit his lip anxiously. “Alright….” 

Before you knew it there were sirens. Loud and obnoxious they pierced their way through your ears. And then you were surrounded my medics and a world of pain before being carted off into the back of an ambulance. 

~ 

When you awoke you were greeted by the sterile lights off the hospital as well  as very worried looking Damian. 

“You’re awake.” He said, moving closer to you the moment he saw your eyes open. 

You blinked “and you saved my life…..” 

“Well….after I stabbed you….” He mumbled sheepishly. 

“Why did you help me…?” you asked hoarsely. 

Damian's face twisted as he thought for a moment.  “You didn’t deserve to die. I couldn’t just leave you there after your father–”

Ah shit. Your father. He had left you for dead. You certainly weren’t going back to him now….  “Right.”

He frowned, noting your upset. “Hey. Don’t worry about it. Just focus on healing right now. We’ll sort it out.”

“You don’t have to help me.”

“I know. But I want to.”

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<- DAY THIRTEEN ⛧DAY FIFTEEN ->

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TAGS:

@hearts4robs @kingshitonly @alicedawitchbish @hell-o-kittys @azure-drag0ness @harleycao @thewhispersofthewaves @batfamsstuff @xxrougefangxx @rosecentury @noisymutantherelol @killxz @rhiodes @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @canthavetoomuchchaos

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[agentcarters]

WHUMPTOBER 2025 day fourteen — [alt. prompt] immortality WHAT IF...? (2021-2024) 3.08 WHAT IF... WHAT IF?

[starlight0825]

In the end, it’s worthwhile

Damian paces around the room like a caged animal. Jason and Bruce are on comms, talking about how to deal with the recent outbreak of an unknown virus. They know it’s passed through exposure to bodily fluids, but they still can’t seem to stop it from spreading. And the first people to catch it are in comas now, with no signs of recovering. Tim is working on an antidote behind Damian, but the work and research is slow going. They told Damian that they can’t risk all of them being out at the same time, so he’s stuck inside.

“Do you have any idea who’s behind it? Maybe we can get more information out of them,” Tim suggests, his eyes never straying from his computer.

“Has anyone heard from Spoiler?” Jason randomly interrupts.

It’s quiet for a few seconds before Bruce says, “No, I haven’t heard from her in an hour or so. She said she was heading down to Crime Alley to follow up on a lead.”

“I’ll go look for her. Maybe she broke her comm again. But, Timmers, we think it might be Scarecrow trying something new.”

Tim hums, his eyes narrowing. Damian keeps pacing since he isn’t allowed to touch any of Tim’s equipment since he knocked something off a few hours ago. It was a notebook, and Damian thinks they’re all being dramatic, but he’s not fighting right now. He’s too anxious, his hands shaking and his breath trembling. Tim glances at him, brows furrowed.

“You sure you’re ok? You look a little warm.”

Damian huffs, rolling his eyes. “I am fine, I’m not sick. I’m just… what’s the word?”

Tim waits patiently, clearly not sure if this is Damian forgetting the English word, or stalling.

“Stressed?” Damian says, sounding unsure.

Tim hums, turning away. “Anxious is the word. Go get the thermometer, and check anyway. We don’t know if rising emotions can be a symptom.”

“Fine, but it’ll come back normal!” Damian says, raising his voice as gets farther away.

Tim flips him off, barely a flick of the wrist before he starts typing again. “So how do you plan to catch him?” Tim asks after flipping the mute off.

“I’m heading to his potential location now. Ten minutes out,” Bruce says, his voice gruff and tight.

Damian sticks the thermometer under his tongue, trying not to gag, or scrunch up his face. “98.4, perfectly normal,” Damian says triumphantly.

Tim smirks. “That’s good, Baby Bat. Also, let me know before you go in.”

Bruce grunts, clearly annoyed at their bickering. Damian tosses the thermometer back into the drawer before walking back over. He leans against the back of Tim’s chair, his chin settling on Tim’s shoulder to look at his screen without getting in the way. Tim doesn’t turn, doesn’t stop typing. Half an hour later, Bruce comes back over the comm.

“We have an issue. It was a trap, and I need backup,” he says quietly.

Damian perks up.

“Well that makes two of you, Jason’s comm dropped offline,” Tim says, turning to Damian. “I’ll go to Bruce, you go to Crime Alley. Find Jason and Steph.”

Damian wants to argue that Tim doesn’t have a spleen, and should be far away from whatever is happening, but he bites his tongue and nods. He’s not Tim’s babysitter. So he heads out, swinging towards Crime Alley, letting Tim take the only vehicle they have left. It’s dark out, rain falling in sheets. Damian still has no problem making his way across town, knowing the city inside and out, regardless of if he can see or not. Crime Alley is oddly quiet, a few working street lights illuminating empty streets.

“Hood, Spoiler?” he asks, making sure his comm is on.

No one answers, so he heads to Jason’s closest safe house. He figures that even if Jason didn’t make it there, he’d be close. He only has one in the area. The only problem is he has no idea where Stephanie and Jason were going. Crime Alley isn’t as small as it sounds, and he got no more specific directions. It takes him half an hour to track down Stephanie’s last location, following clues from there to a group of Scarecrow goons. They somehow got the jump on both of them, probably some kind of trap just like Batman had been caught in one. They’re tied up on the floor, Jason tossed half on top of Stephanie. Damian rolls his eyes, readying his katana.

He drops down, quickly taking out all of the goons. They’re both red faced and completely slack. Stephanie is wheezing, and Jason’s skin has turned an off gray color. Damian glances between them, wondering how he’s going to get them both home. He pulls out his spare grapple rope, and pulls Stephanie onto his back before tying her there. It’s a bit tedious, but not too difficult once she’s secured, head pressed against the nape of his neck. Her hot breath blows out against his skin, making him want to throw her. But he doesn’t, he stays calm, taking deep breaths as he calls the police to pick up the goons.

He knows it’ll be a while before they show up. He’ll just have to risk them escaping since Stephanie’s breathing is only getting worse, and Jason is still unresponsive. He picks Jason up in a fireman’s carry, grunting under his older brother’s weight. But he doesn’t let it stop him, securing Jason to him and Stephanie. Then Damian grabs his grapple, and takes off. It takes him twice as long as it should to get back to the cave since every time he lands, the weight hitting his knees almost made them fold. One time he hears a pop from his left knee, and more pain floods his body, but he doesn’t even hesitate. He keeps moving, only thinking about getting his family back to the safety of the cave where he can take care of them.

Right as he makes it to the quarantined medbay, his knee gives out, and they all hurtle to the floor. Damian barely manages to get his hands out in front of him in enough time to stop Jason’s head from hitting the floor, pain shooting up from his wrists.

“It’s fine, Jay. I’ve got you,” Damian whispers, pulling himself up.

He keeps his weight off of that knee, limping forward, and cutting the end of the line. He unwraps Jason first, dropping him off of his shoulders onto a cot. Then he does the same with Stephanie, carefully placing her down. He checks them both for injuries, then starts setting up monitors. His comm beeps, telling him to switch channels.

“Yes?” he asks after flipping it.

“We figured out some new information,” Leslie says, her voice tight.

“What’s up?”

“Is anyone else there?”

“Not yet, but if they come, I’ll tell them,” Damian says, leaving no room for argument in his tone.

“We don’t know how long it takes for them to drop into the coma, but there are levels you can test to see if they are. And as soon as they are, it starts attacking the brain. You have maybe two hours before brain damage occurs, and it’ll be permanent within twelve, though we can’t tell how severe it will get.”

Damian can feel his heart drop. “Send everything you have in proper notes to Red’s email.” He flips the comm off, turning back to Jason, who is still beneath his shaking hands. “Don’t die while I’m gone,” he says, adjusting the breathing mask. “I’ll be back soon.”

He steps out, limping to the computer. He pulls up Tim’s notes, trying to get a view of everything they know by pulling up Leslie’s notes up beside it. His comm beeps again.

“Yes?” he asks, sounding more annoyed now.

He’s not sure if it’s because he keeps being interrupted, or because his leg is throbbing more incessantly.

“Hey, Robin. I got Scarecrow, but I was dosed, and I need you to come drive us back. My vision is completely shot, and I feel like I’m already about to pass out.”

Damian’s heart drops again, wondering how much of the rescue Tim ignored his symptoms to save Bruce. “I’ll be right there,” he replies, pulling up Tim’s tracker.

He sits down for a minute before popping his knee back into place, biting his lower lip hard enough to bleed. Then he hobbles out, taking to the skies with his grapple upon exiting the cave. It’s not hard to find Tim and Bruce. Bruce is passed out in the backseat of the Batmobile, and Tim is leaning heavily against it, trying to talk to Gordon.

“Red, I’m here,” Damian says, trying to walk off his odd landing.

Tim turns. “Hey.” He slips on his first step towards Damian, pitching forward.

Damian throws himself forward to catch Tim. “Damn it!” he yells, his knee throbbing horribly.

He doesn’t try to get up immediately, cradling Tim on the ground. Gordon watches for a minute, wondering if he’s going to get up.

“Do you need me to get him?” he asks after that minute, kneeling down.

Damian slaps his hand away. “No, I’m fine. Keep your hands off of him.”

Gordon nods slowly, pulling back. Damian hefts himself up, picking Tim up in a bridal carry as he does so. He weighs less than either of the other two, so Damian pulls him far enough up to dump him through the window into the passenger’s seat instead of trying to open the door.

“Give me any kind of vials you found. Was there a lab here?”

“There wasn’t a lab, but we did find a few vials. Are you sure though? We could send it to a lab.”

“Give it to me!” Damian commands, standing up straighter, and glaring at Gordon.

Gordon nods, and goes to grab it. As soon as all of his cargo is strapped down, Damian heads back to the cave. He gets each of them set up, wincing at each set of vitals as he checks on them once more. He brings all of the lab equipment to the working area directly outside of that medbay, quickly setting the vials up to be scanned, and looking once again through all of his notes. His heart pounds as he works on synthesizing an antidote. Leslie calls to tell him that the first victims have died when he’s halfway done.

He’s so focused after that, that he doesn’t stop until a loud beeping forcibly drags his attention away. Tim’s oxygen is dropping, his skin almost translucent. Damian races over, jumping over a box of supplies to get there faster, though he almost crumples to the floor instead.

“Fuck!” His hands move quickly, his brain running faster.

He won’t last much longer. He’s going to die. You can’t save him. You can’t save anyone… No, you can’t save everyone.

Damian winces as he intubates Tim. His oxygen levels out once Damian turns on the ventilator, but his heart is still racing three times too fast. And his head is spinning, and everything in his body feels wrong.

“Keep working, it’ll all be worth it when they’re ok,” Damian whispers even as his vision spins, and his whole body shakes.

He slowly makes his way back to the table, to his computer, almost passing out. It seems like his mad sprint there took almost all of his energy. He looks down to see the antidote is done. His chest flutters, heart jack hammering. His breathing is starting to sound off too, though he can’t think of why.

“I should synthesize another batch of this, and get it into my files, or I could use it on Timothy. He might not make it till I finish more. But if I use this now, and have to make more to make batches from only my notes, a lot more people will die.”

His vision wavers and spins for a few seconds before righting itself. He glances back at his family, all sick, all suffering. Then he starts the process to make more, looking away. All he can do after that is wait, and that part is the hardest, knowing they could take a turn at any second. They’re still the first ones he gives it too, and then he loads the Batmobile with as much as he had the supplies to make.

The drive to the hospital is hell, his vision swimming, and his stomach doing flips. His head feels like Jello, and he can’t even feel his left leg anymore. But he makes it there to drop everything off. Leslie is waiting for him outside.

“There’s a lab inside waiting for it, and we’ll treat those worse off immediately. Do you have the composition of the serum?”

“Fuck! I didn’t grab the papers I printed. I’ll email them to you through the car’s systems.”

“Are you alright, son?” she asks, reaching forward to put her hand on Damian’s forehead.

He pulls away before she can. “I am fine, but don’t touch me. I don’t like it right now,” he says, feeling out of breath.

“Can you come inside with me?”

“No, I have to get back. They need monitoring in case of negative reactions. They could be dying right now.”

“Who?”

“Everyone else! All of them. They’re all sick.”

Leslie’s eyes widen in understanding. Damian turns, almost falling in the process. He sends the notes through email while he’s driving. He almost crashes into a fire hydrant, barely making it home without an accident. Damian spends the next hour pacing in front of their beds, it’s the only thing he can do to stop himself from passing out. Then Jason opens his eyes, and Damian can feel the adrenaline start to drop. He sways, gripping the railing on Jason’s bed.

“What happened?” Jason asks, his voice clear and sleepy.

“You got sick,” Damian says before running through a few cognitive and motor tests to make sure Jason is in the clear.

Jason watches him through it all, concern written all over his face.

“Now stand up. I want to make sure you’re not dizzy, or gonna get vertigo,” Damian says, breathing heavily.

Jason stands, waving his hands. “See, fine. Now are you-”

The sound fades out before Damian can catch the rest of his statement, the world tilting. The last thing he registers is the warm, calloused hands of his akh. When he wakes up, everything hurts, and a mask pressing into his face. Tim sits in the chair beside his bed, writing in a notebook. He’s pale, but looks alright. Damian sits up, wincing as it jars his knee.

“Calm down there. You’re gonna make yourself pass out again,” Tim says, staring into Damian’s soul.

Damian hums. “What happened? You were all sick, and I…”

“You made an antidote. Saved everyone in the city. You were sick yourself though, so you finally passed out once Jason woke up. Thought you were going to die,” he says with a humorless laugh.

Damian hums again. “I did feel off.”

“I know you did, but you saved everyone. And you’re going to be alright. So rest now, and I’ll lecture you later about never doing that again.”

Damian smiles, letting his heavy eyes close again, at peace knowing he saved everyone he could.

[lostwhump]

@whumptober | Day #14: (ALT. PROMPT) Jealous Deadfall (2012)

[assortedcriminality]

In The End, It's Worthwhile - no. 14

ignoring an illness | body bag | wounded caretaker

CW: mention of weapons/violence, sickness

“You should sit down for a bit,” Villain told them from their armchair.

Hero ignored them, continuing to pin notes and photographs to the board, connecting them with different colors of string. The table beside them was strewn with papers and bags of evidence. Some contained only boring items, but others were more interesting: fired bullets, dollar bills dotted with blood, two knives, and a brick. They stepped back, pushing down the sudden dizziness they felt whenever they moved. 

“Do you think-” they were momentarily interrupted by a small coughing fit, which inflamed their already irritated throat. “That there’s pattern to the streets we’ve found evidence at? That maybe Supervillain wants us to find it?”

“I think that if you keep this up, you’ll end up in a body bag.” 

Hero rolled their eyes. “Not helpful.”

“It’s very helpful,” Villain informed them, “if you want to continue living.”

“I’m fine.” It didn’t add to their case that the words came out in a raspy near-wheeze.

“Could’ve fooled me.” 

“Shut up. Focus on icing your foot with those peas, or whatever it is you’re doing.”

“That, and reading this lovely book of nature poems. It’s quite relaxing, you know.”

“God, you’re pretentious,” Hero muttered, picking up a few more papers and thumbtacks to add to the conspiracy board. “How come I had to end up with such an annoying nemesis?”

“I often wonder the same,” Villain said drolly.

“I am this close to throwing the brick from Second at your overinflated head.”

“If you tamper with evidence, I’ll have no choice but to report you to your supervisor,” they recited as they turned the page.

“It’s notoriously difficult to report things when you have a fractured skull.”

“Oh, my. Are you cranky because you need a nap?” 

“This. Close.”

Villain’s only reaction to this was the corner of their mouth turning up as they continued reading, occasionally adjusting the bag of frozen peas that rested atop their sprained ankle. 

After fifteen or so minutes, Hero finished organizing the board and moved on to sorting the evidence, making sure each label was turned up and legible in between coughs. They had to pause a few times to wait for a dizzy spell to pass by closing their eyes and steadying themself on the heavy wooden table. They could always feel their nemesis’ gaze on them when it happened, full of concern and disapproval. Hero didn’t care. It wasn’t like Supervillain took sick days.  The trail was fresh, and Hero wasn’t about to let it go cold for something as silly as their body’s immune response. 

“In the end, it’s worthwhile,” they mumbled, staring at the board. It swam before their eyes, a jumbled mess of color and string and paper. 

“Hm?”

“It’s worth it,” Hero said louder. “To catch them.”

“Not if you die, it’s not.”

“God, Vil, you’re so dramatic. I’m not going to-” As Hero turned to head to shoot their nemesis a dirty look, a fiercely strong bout of dizziness struck them. They raised a hand to their temple, swaying slightly, and then their knees buckled, and they were collapsing to the floor, a sharp pain in their head as it connected with the hardwood. 

Through a blur, they heard a shout, and what sounded like a string of curses, and felt hands on their skin. There was a ringing in their ears, and it was getting louder, drowning out the frantic voice above them. Their heart was pounding slower and slower, becoming a soft rhythm in the back of their mind, until the world slipped away and Hero was falling, falling, falling…

@macknus @whumplicity @whumpwritinglover222 @lazytoshiko @jumpywhumpywriter (ask to be added/removed for Whumptober)

[friendship-ditch]

Soft

(Lou Miller and Debbie Ocean x Fem!Reader) ✼

Whumptober Day 14: Wounded Caretaker

Summary: You get wounded in a heist. Your girlfriends—particularly Lou—do not take it well.

Warnings/Notes: None! We all agree Lou is secretly a big softie right?

Word Count: 1317

  “I’m really not–Ow!” You yelped in pain as the car hit a bump, throwing you into the wall. You tightened your grip on your bleeding arm, holding the rags down harder. “Jeez, Deb. I’m not going to die, but you might kill me.”

  That made Lou laugh. She held you down better on the seat, holding another rag to the wound on your forehead. “Debbie, slow down.”

  “No. We have to get you back home. You got banged up pretty badly.”

  “You’re driving like I’m actively passing away–Lou!” You gasped again as the pressure on your head increased. “Easy…”

  “Sorry,” Lou sighed. “You are bleeding a bit, though.”

  You winced, squirming to try and get out of her grip but she didn’t budge. “Yeah. Well, getting tackled by a security guard will do that to you.”

  “For what it’s worth, you were a wonderful distraction.”

  “Thanks, Lou.”

  The blonde woman just smirked, then reached out to wipe a stray droplet of blood from your forehead. “We’ll have Nine Ball hack the system, make sure you aren’t banned from there forever. I’m sure she can delete the tapes just fine.”

  “Like I’m ever going back to that casino.”

  The old theater where Lou and the others made their home was coming into view. Well, the others weren’t there right now. Debbie had split the group into 3 and each of you were running your own heists across the country at 3 different casinos. It was risky, but so was everything Debbie planned.

  But it certainly paid off. Lou read aloud the texts from the other girls, all confirming their successes. They should all be back within the next day or two. Though the three of you were looking forward to your time alone to relax.

  “Downstairs bathroom?” Lou kicked the door open with her foot.

  “No, my papers are in there. How about the kitchen?”

  “What, are we going to butcher her?”

  “Lou.”

  Debbie reached in from the other side for your uninjured hand. Lou scooted behind you, the two of them carefully getting you out of the car.

  “Careful, ankle.” You gritted your teeth as you fell into Debbie’s shoulder. 

  “Is there any part of you that doesn’t hurt?” Lou picked you up carefully. You grabbed onto her neck as best as you could.

  “My elbow?”

  “Surprised that’s not bruised.” Debbie pushed open the door and you were brought inside.

  Lou sat you down on the island, forcefully leaning you back against a pole. Debbie darted around the house, gathering what medical supplies she could scrounge up; some bandages, medicine, rags and towels, and some ice.

  Together, the two of them patched you up as best as they could. Your bleeding wounds were wrapped, your bruises iced, and your sore limbs resting in bed.

  You had to admit… it felt nice to be pampered like this. Usually you were the one doing the pampering.

  You drifted off to sleep, but woke up sometime later to soft arguing from the hall outside your bedroom. You frowned, looking around with a start. This wasn’t your room… this was Lou’s room. Why were you…?

  “Lou, I need you to relax,” Debbie’s calm voice sounded from the hallway, exasperated. “She’s going to be fine. I know she has a bunch of injuries and shit, but there’s nothing bad enough to really cause her any harm.”

  “Yeah? You were pretty sure there was earlier.” Lou sounded bitter and unusually stressed. “How do we know? I mean, it’s not like we can bring her to a hospital and tell them what happened.”

  “She doesn’t need a hospital.”

  “But what if she does?” Lou’s voice thinned, close to breaking. “What if she does and we don’t know it? She could have… internal bleeding! Or a concussion! Or something even worse!”

  “There’s not much worse than internal bleeding.”

  “Which we don’t know if she has!”

  “Lou,” Debbie sighed. “She doesn’t have internal bleeding, nobody gets that from being punched by a security guard. We both looked over her wounds and I texted Tammy, she’s going to be fine.”

  Lou grew quiet. You could imagine her sulking, or perhaps pacing worriedly, or both. Which was strange. She never got this worked up about things, only when she was really upset.

  “What’s gotten into you?” Debbie finally asked. “You’re acting like she got shot in the heart.”

  The other woman sighed. “…I’ve never seen her like this.” She finally admitted. “It’s always us getting hurt, and her taking care of us. It’s never this way, it shouldn’t be this way. It’s wrong seeing her hurt and I hate it.”

  “Lou…” Debbie murmured softly. They stopped talking after that.

  You were about to fall back asleep when the door opened.

  “You woke her up.” Lou muttered.

  Debbie scoffed. “I didn’t. You did.”

  “I was awake,” you replied weakly, lifting your head. Your body really started to hurt now that you were in bed and the adrenaline was gone. You stared longingly at the medication on the nightstand.

  Reading your mind, Lou grabbed the pills and a bottle of water. She slipped them into your mouth and held the bottle so you could drink. Then, very gently, she wiped away whatever dribbled down your chin.

  “How are you feeling?” Debbie sat down beside you. Before you could answer, she looked over at Lou. “Go get some more ice.”

  With the blonde gone, you sighed and laid your head on her thigh. “Honestly? I feel like shit.” You murmured. “I forgot how much it hurts to get beat up.”

  “Yeah… It happens to everyone eventually.” Debbie carded her fingers through your hair and laughed. “You’ve really got Lou worked up.”

  “I heard. I didn’t know she cared that much…” you murmured, feeling guilty.

  “She doesn’t like showing it. But deep down, she’s a big softie.” Debbie chuckled. “She’d probably massage your feet if you asked her.”

  You shook your head, though not without smirking at the thought. “No… I just want her to calm down. I’m not even dealing with it and it’s driving me crazy.”

  “What is?” Lou suddenly appeared in the doorway, holding multiple ice packs and a warm rice bag. “I got all the ice I could find since some of it is re-freezing. And then I got this warm thing too for your neck.”

  “Lou-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence as Lou suddenly drowned you in just about everything she could find. When you shivered, she frowned and pulled some off. “Lou, stop.”

  “But, wait until you see this, I-“

  You grabbed her hand and gave it as hard of a tug as you could muster, which wasn’t much.

  She frowned and looked at you, then at Debbie, and then back at you.

  “Relax,” you breathed. “I’m fine, Lou, really. I’m going to be fine.”

  “I know, I’m just worried.”

  Debbie helped you pull Lou down onto the bed. “You don’t have to be worried. She told you she’s fine, I told you she’s fine; she’s going to be fine.”

  Lou pouted, though there was a softer, almost scared look in her eyes. The thought of you not being fine terrified her.

  “I didn’t know you were such a softie,” you smiled, tugging the collar of her shirt weakly.

  “...‘m not a softie,” Lou mumbled into your hair. She carefully laid down so she didn’t hurt you, playing with your hand and warming your side with her body. “I’m just worried.”

  “You don’t have to be.” You shook your head. “I’m okay.”

  Lou sighed before nuzzling your cheek. She kissed your temple and Debbie kissed your other, both women settling around you.

  “You should get some rest,” Debbie murmured softly to the both of you. 

  “Only if you do too,” you smiled sleepily, eyes fluttering closed. “I want you both here.”

  The other women exchanged a glance before settling down on either side of you.