⛑ and 🛏 for Night?
Full House - Brant
⛑ - Some tender first-aid
🛏 - Someone by their bedside when they wake up
Sorry for the long wait!
This happens before Little One arrived in the house. Night isn't even trying not to hate Alder in this one.
Masterlist
CW: pet whump, racism, whipping aftermath, painful healing, comfort.
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It isn't often that Alder picks on Night, not when his favorite toy to hurt is Day, there are several reasons to.
First of all, Day reacts, he shows fear and cries more desperately, Night knows that humans like to see it, besides that there is his height, which a parently is enough to get on Master's nerves, there is also his skin, Master lets it really clear how much he hates their dark skin.
Even so, sometimes Master picks on Night, sometimes the fact that he reacts less is less boring and more like a challenge, so Master never stops until Night is a bloody sobbing mess. Night hates to cry, and this wasn't even a punishment, he didn't deserve that, that isn't what he was trained for!
But Master can do whatever he wants. He can...Night thought to himself when the whipping was over and Master was walking away. Night knows that Master can't legally do that, not this much, not for nothing, but with no one to stop him it is as if laws didn't exist.
"S-stop," Night cried out as Beige helped him up, it's always him, "H-hurts."
"Sorry," Beige said but didn't stop, Day isn't allowed to pick Night up, it would b too merciful and Master wants them as miserable as they can get, so Beige has no choice but to help the guard dog himself.
After several minutes of struggle, Beige managed to carry him to the basement, where Day held him as if he was dying, he wasn't, he was scared and in pain, his body was shivering uncontrollably but he was well alive, that much misery wasn't enough to put him down.
There were no painkillers this time, just a small bottle of alcohol that Beige had managed to beg for, there is a limit to what he can do, and he takes more responsibilities over himself that the over pets wanted him to.
Day used an old rag to clean the wounds, it hurt so much, enough to Night give up on begging and just let himself cry, the larger man was unfitly delicate, but alcohol on fresh wounds will always hurt too much for it to matter.
When Day finished Night was barely awake, flinching at every touch or sound, "Hey..." Day called, taking away the sweat-matted hair from his face, "It'll be okay, let's sleep, okay Night?"
"Brant..name is Brant," he said weakly, half-asleep. Day flinched at that, it wasn't the first time that Night showed signs of remembering a long time ago, remembering another life.
"N-night you-"
"J-just this night," he begged, on the edge of breaking down crying again, "Please."
Day swallowed hard, it would be bad, it would be unbearable if Master or Mistress ever heard that, still, he leaned closer to whisper into Night's –Brant's– ear, "B-brant, let's sleep, okay?"
"Okay," he said with a small smile, holding Day's hand with all the little strength he had left, "Thank you."
Day lie beside him, avoiding every wound and whispering his name –his real name– into his ears every time he got too agitated. In the morning they woke up as comfortably as someone in their situation could be –which was a very low amount of comfort–, both remembered what had happened but silently decided to keep it in memory that belonged in their heart of both of them.
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