@whumperless-whump-event day 3: checking vitals + alt prompt 4: that's a lot of blood
cws: character death, blood, violence
Whumpee goes down hard. Caretaker doesn't see what does it, can't take their eyes off the last faceless grunt with a gun. They break his neck and he drops like all the others.
Caretaker turns back to their teammate, expecting to see Whumpee already staggering to xer feet, bitching about fucking up xer hair. But xe doesn't.
That's a lot of blood, Caretaker thinks, a swell of panic breaking through the battle calm. Their stolen weapon hits the ground at the same time their knees do.
"Whumpee," Caretaker says urgently, rolling Whumpee onto xer back.
Oh shit. There's half of a stun baton lodged in Whumpee's chest, at an awful angle that ends somewhere up under xer ribs. Caretaker hesitates, their hands hovering uselessly in the air.
Whumpee wheezes, raspy and weak and the best thing Caretaker has ever heard.
Whumpee twitches, not quite a flinch, and opens xer eyes. Caretaker leaves their hand where it is and the shaking spreads up their arms and into their chest. Whumpee's eyes dart frantically, wildly, but xer head lolls like xe's drunk or—
"Please," Caretaker whispers, covering their mouth with their free hand. A wave's building inside them, like nausea or a scream. Their knees are warm, jeans soaked through with blood. It's all they can smell.
Whumpee isn't wheezing anymore, just taking tiny, silent, panting breaths. Like the squirrel they found on a path one day, half flattened by a careless bike. Dying in terror and pain and Caretaker had just watched it, horror and pity not quite strong enough for them to put it out of its misery.
Like now. One of Whumpee's hands scrabbles at Caretaker's arm, gripping their sleeve and the skin underneath with the same blind desperation. Caretaker is still talking, they realize, pleading with no one behind their muffling palm.
Caretaker reaches for any semblance of calm, grabs Whumpee's hand and gives up xer pulse, unsteady and too fast.
"You're okay," Caretaker lies, letting their hand fall away from their mouth. "It's gonna be okay. I promise."
With one steady wrench, Caretaker pulls the obstruction from the wound. The scent of blood is so heavy in the air now that they can taste it at the back of their throat. They pull Whumpee into their lap, a one sided comfort.
