Smoke/Shared Clothing/ Bloodstains
@whumpril day23 (a little late)
CW: blood, smoking, conditioned whumpee, aggressive caretaking, clueless caretaker, hidden injuries, mentions of vomiting (no details).
When Friend walked into Caretaker’s apartment they were neither surprised to see Whumpee there, nor that they were wearing Caretaker’s clothing.
Whumpee had been oscillating between Friend and Caretaker’s couches since Whumper had finally agreed to leave them alone. Considering Whumpee had not been at Friend's that morning they were honestly relieved to find them at Caretaker’s. As for the clothing, Whumpee had recently taken up the habit of wearing Caretaker’s sweaters and t-shirts. They probably would have worn Friend’s too, except Friend hadn’t been fond of the clothes sharing the one time Whumpee had tried it. Caretaker apparently didn’t mind because these days Whumpee seemed to be wearing their clothes more than their own. Caretaker was closer to Whumpee’s size anyway, so though Whumpee was swimming in their clothing, they weren’t drowning in them like they had been with Friend's.
What did surprise Friend was that Whumpee was smoking.
They were leaning out the open kitchen window, one of Caretaker’s sweatshirts rolled up to their elbows, with a small tendril of smoke rising from the half spent cigarette between their fingers. They turned to look at Friend when they walked in the door. Their face was pale with dark circles under there eyes and they gave Friend a half smile in way of a welcome before turning back to the view out the window. Taking another drag from their cigarette.
“I thought you quit.” Friend tried not to make the statement sound accusatory. They’d been the one who got Whumpee hooked on smoking in the first place after all. Years ago, before any of them could imagine what the future would bring. Caretaker had hounded them both for the smoking until it eventually got the better of Friend. Whumpee had taken longer though. It had only been in the last couple of months, again since Whumper agreed to leave them alone, that they’d given the habit up.
“It’s been a long night” Whumpee shrugged and stubbed out the cigarette on the windowsill.
Friend nodded and went to join them at the window. They had been tipped off that something was wrong when Caretaker had called in sick to work the day before. The one time Caretaker had answered their texts they had said they thought they might have food poisoning and not to worry. That morning though, when Caretaker had called in sick to work again, and Whumpee wasn't around like Friend would have expected them to be if Caretaker was ill, they figured they should probably check in.
"They've been better" The statement didn't mean much coming from Whumpee. They had always been the monarch of understatements. Friend could distinctly remember a time when they had described a cut that had required stitches and a blood transfusion as nothing more than a 'scratch'. They had also tried convincing Caretaker and Friend that it had come from falling in the shower, but that was a whole different issue.
"They're sleeping now," Whumpee explained "But they were up half the night vomiting and the other half hallucinating. They thought I was their uncle at one point, which I didn't even know they had any."
"That doesn't sound like food poisoning"
Whumpee shook their head.
"I think its the flu, but if there's no blood involved I'm really at a loss with medical stuff."
Friend swallowed and tried not to think about those years when they and Caretaker had been out of contact with Whumpee. All those injuries Whumpee had had to treat on their own in the dark closet of a room Whumper had kept them in. Caretaker knew more of the details than Friend did. And though Friend would have been there to listen if Whumpee wanted to tell them, they didn't envy Caretaker being the one Whumpee had turned too with that information.
"You should call me next time" Friend didn't know anything about treating the flu either, but they and Whumpee could have at least muddled through together. Whumpee shook there head though, stiffling a yawn as they did.
"You have a job. Anyway, I figure it's pay back for all the times the two of you were there for me when I couldn't get up off the floor."
Friend sighed and put a reassuring hand on Whumpee’s back. Despite the light touch Whumpee’s whole body tensed and Friend remembered a second to late that they didn’t like being touched anymore.
“Sorry” They removed their hand and Whumpee leaned more heavily on the windowsill, working to even out their breathing. It was a more dramatic reaction than they’d had in a while, but they also looked ready to collapse with how tired they were, so Friend didn’t think much of it.
“I was going to say that you don’t owe us anything, Whumpee.”
Caretaker had always done more peeling Whumpee off the floor than Friend had. But Friend was sure they felt the same way. Caretaker was the kind of person who would give you the shirt off their back (clearly, as Whumpee was already wearing it).
Whumpee pursed their lips and nodded in a way that Friend knew meant they didn’t believe them. That could be a conversation for another time though. Whumpee really did look awful and now that Friend was thinking about it, if Caretaker had come down with something contagious, Whumpee could very well be catching it.
“Why don’t you get some rest” Friend nodded towards the couch behind them in the living room. “I’m gonna go check on Caretaker.”
“Sure” Whumpee murmured. “Just want another smoke first.”
Friend knew they probably should have said something about that. But they really had no ground to stand on so they let it go and turned away from Whumpee towards the hall where Caretaker’s bedroom was. A split second later though they turned back.
Something had caught their eye.
The spot on Caretaker’s sweatshirt where Friend had accidentally touched Whumpee was sticking to their back in almost a perfect outline of their hand. Not only that but the spot where the heel of their hand would have been now had an odd brown stain against the green of the fabric.
Friend swallowed thickly, a familiar panic and confusion curling in their stomach.
“Whumpee?” They asked “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”
Whumpee turned to look at them. Pasting an expression of confusion on their face as they did. Looking at them directly for the first time Friend could see that Whumpee wasn’t just pale. They were colorless. And their dark eyes were blood shot and red rimmed from crying.
Friend could feel bile rising in their throat. Without much thinking they stepped forward and grabbed Whumpee by their elbow, forcing them to turn back towards the window. Caretaker would have been gentler. They would have had Whumpee sit down and coaxed the truth out of them with calm words and reassurances. But Friend wasn't Caretaker.
Their ears were ringing as they pulled up the hem of Caretaker's sweatshirt. Whumpee was wearing a black t-shirt underneath it, but Friend could see dark red, still moist stains at the waist band of their grey sweatpants.
Whumpee let out a yelp of protest, but didn't resist as Friend grabbed at the t-shirt. They only pulled it up as far as they needed to confirm what they were fearing. The few inches of visible skin on Whumpee's lower back were covered with bruises, welts, and weeping cuts, overlapping the already intricate map of healed scars.
"Whumpee. What did you do?" Friend at the very least managed to keep their voice a stern calm. Whumpee was beginning to shake under Friend's grasp. They were leaning heavily on the windowsill, gripping it with white knuckles. Friend suddenly felt the need to hold onto Whumpee and let go of their clothing, instead grabbing them by their elbows again.
"Caretaker had a fever of 104" Whumpee answered. Their voice was shaking as much as their body. "They needed medicine. I didn't know where else to go."
Friend had the ware-with-all to pull Whumpee's weight towards themselves, right before their knees buckled and the two of them collapsed to the floor, gripping each other as Whumpee let out a sudden sob of pain.
"You call me, Whumpee" Friend insisted, gathering Whumpee against them trying to avoid aggravating God knows what injuries they had. "You should have called me. Not Whumper. You never have to see them again."
Whumpee began to sob harder.
"I just wanted to help" they moaned "I wanted to be useful for once. You guys were never supposed to find out."
Friend's heart broke. They pulled Whumpee's head into their chest and began to stroke their hair. They suddenly regret their anger and how aggressive they had been.
"You were helping. You are useful. You didn't have to go to Whumper for that. Being here for Caretaker is enough. They appreciate it, I promise you. They'll tell you when they're feeling better."
Whumpee began to sob even harder at Friend's words. Friend kissed them on the top of their head and continued to stroke their hair until they had calmed a little. It didn't take long. Even at their worst, Whumpee had never been much of a crier.
"Was this the first time you've contacted them?" Friend asked when they thought Whumpee was able to answer.
"Yea" Whumpee nodded against Friend's chest. Friend breathed a sigh of relief.
"Okay, you didn't make any deals with them did you?"
"And all they wanted was to hurt you one last time?"
Whumpee let out a single sob as a response and Friend kissed them on the head again.
"Have you cleaned yourself up yet?"
Whumpee shook their head against Friend's chest.
"Tried," They mumbled. "Can't reach"
"Alright. Do you think you can stand? If you can get to the table I can clean you up. You'll probably have to talk me through it though."
Whumpee lifted their head from Friend's chest and looked at them with watery eyes.
"I think I'll need help getting up" They admit sheepishly. "Someone should check on Caretaker. It's almost time for them to take the medicine again."
"Don't worry. I'll check up on Caretaker." Friend reassured them as they helped Whumpee up off the ground. "I'll grab you a change of clothing too. There's too much blood on these."
Whumpee nodded and let Friend lead them to the kitchen table.
