Sure, they were hurt. Horrifically, even. There's no denying the scars. But the things they describe? There's just no way someone could do such horrific things to a person, and there's no way a person could walk away from that. There must be embellishments, hyperbole, some misremembering.
hi! here's a fic i did not really intend to write, it just kind of came to me. i'm currently rewatching karppi but i'm not even on this season, yet i simply had to do this fic lol. it's a little fill for the time in between when nurmi's apartment blows up in 3x07 and when he and karppi wake up on the couch in 3x08. hope you like!
The thick black smoke rises, lit by the city lights until it blends into the blackness of the sky. He just stares, as if mesmerised.
It’s his apartment. He knows it is, has seen it from this angle so many times before. Still, some part of him protests that it is not. That it cannot be.
It cannot be true that his apartment has just exploded in front of him.
And yet it is.
“We need to call this in,” Sofia says. She squeezes his shoulder, and he jumps a little.
“Sorry.”
He doesn’t…this doesn’t feel real. Smoke is billowing from a hole in his apartment. His apartment.
What if he’d been inside?
Sofia is on the phone beside him, but he can’t really focus on what she’s saying. He catches his own address, the words smoke and deliberate.
He feels lightheaded. Out of his own body.
His apartment.
It is impossible that this was an accident. Considering everything.
The most likely, the most obvious, conclusion, is that this explosion was meant to frighten him, hurt him, or kill him.
He knows which of these possibilities is the most likely.
He feels sick.
Sofia must have finished on the phone, because suddenly her hands are grabbing his, and she is trying to pull him inside. He finds that his feet don’t really want to move. He feels stuck, staring out across the water at the smoke still rising.
“Come on,” Sofia says, and from the way she sounds she’s probably said this to him at least once already.
He forces his feet to move. They don’t feel entirely connected to the rest of him. He sort of stumbles across the threshold, and then Sofia shuts the balcony door with a rather loud sound and he comes back to himself, a bit.
“We need…”
“Firefighters are already coming. We should go to the station. We’ll need to each make a statement.”
She’s right. The sooner they do this, the better. While the event is still fresh in their minds.
While he can still see the image of the smoke pouring out of his apartment like it’s burned into his eyes.
They get into Sofia’s car. He finds he doesn’t really recall getting down the stairs. His hands are shaking when he goes to buckle his seatbelt, and Sofia reaches across silently and does it for him.
“Thanks.”
The drive is quick and silent. The shock is wearing off, he thinks. Or his police training is taking over. By the time they reach the station, he feels…not exactly fine, but the explosion is sitting in its own compartment in his mind. It’s separated out.
He’s fine. He needs to be fine. At least for this.
In the station, he tries to make an espresso, but his hands are still shaking. He hides them in his pockets before anyone can see, and focuses on breathing instead.
His apartment. Black smoke against the black sky.
In the end, they speak to several people, and he manages to make his voice steady and his speech coherent. He speaks to JP and Peltola, a guy he’s never seen before, an arson investigator. Tells them everything he remembers.
Things are moving as quickly as can be expected. The firefighters have arrived and the blaze is nearly extinguished. A team will be sent to his apartment as soon as it is safe. This is all that is known.
JP relays this information to him and Sofia. “They said it’ll be an hour or two,” he says, then disappears.
Sakari suddenly feels heavy. His statement has been given, he’s done what he can for the initial investigation, and there is nothing else to do. Nothing to distract him, to occupy his thoughts.
Just that smoke.
That fear.
What if he’d been inside?
His hands are still shaking.
“I’m going to sit down,” Sofia says. “There’s no point in going home if it’ll only be one or two hours.”
She’s right. And it’s not like he has a home to go to now, anyway.
They collapse onto the couch. He doesn’t think he’ll fall asleep–it’s not always easy for him, and all he can see every time he blinks is his ruined apartment. But Sofia reaches out, squeezes his hand, and he finds himself drifting off.
The smoke still rises behind his eyelids, but for a little while, he sleeps.
thanks so much for reading! it's been a while but i am still so insane about these two. this was a little rushed but i hope it was alright anyway!!
Day 20: What would you say to your favorite whumpee?
Hmm, this is such a good question. I think what I would tell them (and this applies to any of my favorites) is thank you for being my punching bag. Like, thanks for letting me experience the catharsis and comfort that I didn't get when I needed it. It's helped me process a lot of things in my life, both while I was actively going through it and in the time afterward. Whump showed me what a healthy processing of trauma can look like, and so, subjecting you, my faves, to those same processes has been very helpful for me and my mental health.
And then, on a lighter note, thank you for giving me something to create around. Because of whump, I've learned how to make GIFs, and I've written fanfiction, something that I used to just dabble in here and there. Now, I've got a few stories published on AO3, and I've got more on my computer just waiting for me to finish editing. It's hard for me to find the motivation to create, but having my favorite whumpees there to give me ideas really helps get the creative processes going.
So, thank you to my favorite whumpees for always being there for me. And yes, you can expect pain and suffering for many years to come.
I get nervous sometimes that I'm posting too much of one thing, but you just reminded me that you can never have too much cake at the party. So, thank you. And I will absolutely keep the M*A*S*H coming ❤
So, for last year's Whumpmas in July, I posted the opening scene of a longer Lost Tomb fic that I'm working on. So, I decided to share another couple scenes of the same fic this year.
Summary: The Iron Triangle are exploring a tomb when it starts to collapse. As they're trying to get out, a rock falls on Wu Xie's leg. While freeing Wu Xie, Xiaoge is struck by another rock, which knocks him out. Wu Xie cannot walk and thus tells Pangzi to take Xiaoge and get out. Pangzi promises to come back for him, but as soon as he and Xiaoge are safe, the tomb fully collapses. This excerpt takes place after Pangzi and Xiaoge find Wu Xie and bring him home. (Fic under the cut.)
Wu Xie slept for a day and a half. During that time, Pangzi and Xiaoge had cleaned most of the dirt and grime that caked every inch of him. They gave up on his hair early in their endeavor, deciding that a good shower would take care of that. They dressed him in clean pajamas, mindful of the IV in his hand, and they added an extra blanket to make sure he was warm.
They rotated who sat at his side, though they often ended up both in his room enough that it didn’t matter whose turn it was. They had decided against lying next to him, as they were concerned he’d react poorly to having someone in bed with him lest he wake in that moment.
It was about midday when he finally did wake up. Pangzi was sat beside him, and he wasted no time. He stood and made sure to fill Wu Xie’s view.
“Tianzhen? How’re you feeling?”
Wu Xie squinted before shutting his eyes with a pinched expression. Pangzi realized what the problem was, and he rushed over to shut the blinds. He returned to Wu Xie’s side.
“Better?”
Wu Xie nodded.
“I’m gonna go get Xiaoge, okay? I’ll be right back.”
But Wu Xie shot upright, his breaths coming in short pants, his eyes wide and wild and darting up to stare at the ceiling.
“Easy, Tianzhen, breathe. You’re all right. You’re home.”
It took Wu Xie a moment to calm down, and even then, he was still wary and on edge, eyes darting this way and that, muscles tense and coiled. Pangzi didn’t want to leave him, but Wu Xie gestured with his chin that he could go. Pangzi sighed and headed for the door. He found Xiaoge heading his way at a power march.
“Wu Xie?” Xiaoge said.
“He’s awake, but he’s a little jumpy.”
Xiaoge nodded and followed him inside. Wu Xie had readjusted himself so he was sitting upright against the pillows. He smiled at both of them, and while it reached his eyes, there was something off about it, something wary, something Pangzi hadn’t seen since those ten years of war and loneliness.
“Wu Xie.” Xiaoge said.
“Xiaoge. Pangzi.” Wu Xie’s voice was little more than a whisper. His smile deepened.
“Are you hungry?” Pangzi said.
Wu Xie hesitated then nodded. But as Pangzi made to leave, Wu Xie tensed, eyes bouncing from the door to the ceiling to Pangzi and back again.
Pangzi left the room at a casual pace, but once he was sure he was out of earshot, he damn near ran to the kitchen and grabbed a container of congee and heated it up. He wasn’t sure how hungry Wu Xie was, probably starving considering how he looked, but Pangzi didn’t want to overwhelm him. Dumping the warm congee in a bowl, he hurried back, almost forgetting to slow down before he got to Wu Xie’s room.
It was silent inside, which left a strange feeling in Pangzi’s gut, and he entered to find nothing amiss, Wu Xie sitting up in bed and Xiaoge in the chair beside him. As Pangzi entered, Wu Xie’s gaze shot to the movement. Xiaoge vacated the seat and leaned against the wall.
Pangzi took the empty chair, opening the container and releasing the savory smells of congee. He handed the bowl to Wu Xie, who took it with shaking hands. He held it in his lap for a moment, just staring at it, before bringing a small spoonful to his lips. Wu Xie took another spoonful, and another, and another until Xiaoge spoke up.
“Wu Xie, slow down.”
Wu Xie blinked, stared at the bowl, then flashed a sheepish smile and took more measured sips rather than ravenous gulps. While his hands shook, his grip on the bowl was strong, clutching it to him, keeping it out of reach.
When he finished, Wu Xie looked up at them and frowned. He opened his mouth and froze. He tried again, licking his lips and opening his mouth but closing it. Wu Xie bit down hard on his lip as tremors started to wrack through him, and Pangzi was about to protest, about to stop him from hurting himself. Wu Xie gripped the spoon tight and tapped on the side of the bowl.
Shower?
Pangzi glanced back at Xiaoge, whose brow raised almost imperceptibly at the use of their knocking language. Turning back to Wu Xie, Pangzi said, “Of course. Here, let Pang-ye help you.”
He reached out to take the bowl, but Wu Xie pulled it back. Blinking and shaking his head, Wu Xie handed the bowl over, an apology on his face.
“Aiya, none of that.” Pangzi said as he set the bowl on the nightstand.
Wu Xie shoved the blankets aside and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He pushed himself up, eyes widening as he sat back down, blinking hard.
“Easy, Tianzhen. Use me if you need.”
Nodding, Wu Xie tried again, and the moment he swayed, he steadied himself on Pangzi’s shoulder. Pangzi felt the moment he gained enough strength to walk on his own, Wu Xie wincing as he sucked in a deep, hitching breath, and headed out of the room. His gait was steady enough, and to anyone who didn’t spend as much time with him as Pangzi and Xiaoge did, they wouldn’t notice the limp in his left leg.
They followed Wu Xie to the bathroom, Xiaoge standing outside where he could stand guard but also allow Pangzi and Wu Xie to still see him. Wu Xie turned on the water, all the way hot, Pangzi noticed, and began disrobing, his brow furrowing in small winces with certain movements.
“Need any help?” Pangzi said.
He hadn’t meant it in that way, but Wu Xie just shucked off his pajama pants and grinned, waggling his eyebrows.
Wu Xie tapped on the counter, Eager, are we?
Pangzi rolled his eyes. “You’re the filthiest I’ve ever seen you. Get clean, and then we’ll see.”
Wu Xie stuck his tongue out at him and stepped into the steaming spray. He didn’t take long. He never did take long showers, maybe ten minutes at most. But he was in and out in what couldn’t be more than five minutes. He turned the water off, and Pangzi realized he was breathing hard, breaths hitching every now and then.
“Tianzhen?”
Wu Xie waved a dismissive hand, one that tried to say he was okay, while he took a shaking step out of the shower. Steam rolled off his reddened skin.
With a sigh, Pangzi handed him a towel. “Aiya, what’d you turn the water so hot for? You look like a radish.”
Taking the towel, Wu Xie was quick to dry himself off and take the clean clothes Xiaoge had retrieved while he was in the shower. The worn T-shirt and soft sweatpants swallowed him, the elastic in the sweatpants the only thing keeping them on his hips.
“We’re gonna have to fatten you back up.” Pangzi said. “Leave it to your Pang-ye. I’ll have you plump in no time.”
Wu Xie just gave him a small smile. He tapped on the counter, Outside?
“Patio or koi pond?”
He shivered at the mention of the koi pond. Roof.
Pangzi glanced back at Xiaoge before saying, “Roof? How about we start small and keep our feet on the ground? We can sit on the patio and just enjoy the fresh air, maybe play some games.”
But Wu Xie just shook his head and tapped again.
Xiaoge stepped forward. “I’ve got him.”
Pangzi just looked between the two of them. He threw up his hands. “They think they’re monkeys. Or birds. Fine, fine. Go on. Have fun, you kids.”
You’re not coming? Wu Xie tapped.
“I like my feet on the ground, thank you very much. I’ll just pull up a chair underneath you. I’m gonna clean up first. You two go on ahead.”
That seemed to calm Wu Xie down, and he nodded, following Xiaoge out of the bathroom.
Pangzi sighed. He looked around the bathroom, at the steam still hovering in the air, at the foggy mirror, at the discarded clothes. And he started cleaning up.
germansingergirl
gummygunk
origamiaround
