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┇(Cult) Whump Recovery… (Whumper is referred to as The Leader/God)

"Do you remember what you were like before?" Caretaker asked gently. Too gently—and Whumpee hated it. Whumpee absolutely despised the softness, the kindness they always held in their voice as the sweetly coaxed Whumpee's secrets out of them, to, of course, use against them later—Whumpee thought. It was the same voice that The Leader would always use; Whumpee wondered why it scared, angered them so much to hear Caretaker take on the same tone. How could they dislike the same tone Their God would use? It all confused, and immensely bothered, Whumpee.

"Yes, I do. I was sinful." Whumpee seethed. Their eyes darted around the room, before settling on the white, floral fabric, draped over their bruised thighs. The dress was apparently Caretaker's cousin's, and it was the only clean clothing they had when unexpectantly taking Whumpee in, only about a week ago. Since then, laundry had been done, but Whumpee seemed attached to the dress, and Caretaker wanted them to be as comfortable as possible. It was much prettier, silkier, than their previous, everyday-garment; a gray, modest dress which covered them from head to toe. It sat on them loosely, and was itchy at the shoulders, but that had never mattered.

Caretaker frowned at the response, but Whumpee hadn't dared to look up to see it.

"How were you sinful—if you're comfortable telling me?" Caretaker questioned—again, far too tenderly. Having sat at the foot of the bed for around 10 minutes now, Caretaker kept conversing with Whumpee—though it felt more like an interrogation for them.

Whumpee hesitated for a moment before answering:

"I.. I wasn't holy yet. I hadn't found The Leader yet—I hadn't found God yet. I hadn't begun worshipping them- and, so, I couldn't have been-.. righteous," Whumpee paused briefly, then continued.

"I would've.. never been forgiven if I had continued like that, but... Now, I'm sure I'll never be forgiven again… no matter how hard I could ever pray." Whumpee practically whispered the second half of the sentance, taking in a shaky breath before muttering the very last part—they sounded as if they were about to sob.

Caretaker sighed, sorrowfully, before slowly—very, very slowly—moving over towards Whumpee, to which Whumpee only stared at them for a moment before looking back down at their thighs. Hesitantly, Caretaker spoke:

"I know, I know it's scary—but none of that's.. true. Please.. know that you're safe. The Leader.." Caretaker hesitated, "God—can't hurt you, anymore. I promise. You're far away from them all now and I won't ever let anybody from back there hurt you ever again. You're safe" they finished.

Caretaker, now sitting knee to knee with Whumpee, looked back into their eyes, only to be met with a small, scarred, terrified, baby deer. Their eyes, yet again, frantically searched for a focus of interest around the room as tears spilt freely now, quiet sobs racking through their chest as they attempted to mutter a defensive response—but to no avail, as they could only let out pitiful whimpers.

How could Caretaker challenge The Leader? How could Caretaker challenge The God—the only being who knew true virtue? It went against all that Whumpee had known for the past four years. And deeply, it both shook and absolutely terrified Whumpee.

Once more, Caretaker moved towards Whumpee, little by little, attempting to look back at Whumpee's face—failing, since Whumpee's head was now lowered and pressed against their thighs, still covered by soft fabric.

"Whumpee… Can I touch you?" Cautiously, Caretaker asked—unsure as to whether Whumpee could even heard them through their now, much louder, sobs. Although, even through Whumpee's hysteric crying, Caretaker could've sworn they'd heard something among the lines of "Yes, okay". And so, steadily, they wrapped their arms around Whumpee, who quickly lifted their arms as well, almost instinctively, wrapping them shakily around Caretaker and burying their face in Caretaker's neck, breathing heavily and smearing their tears everywhere. Whumpee had been deprived of touch for so long, of course they’d take it now that they got the chance to.

After the shock of it all, Caretaker dotingly whispered sweet confirmations, holding Whumpee firmly yet tenderly, making sure to comfort Whumpee yet not trap them.

Words of "It's okay, it's all okay. I promise—you're safe. The Leader can't get to you here" were spoken, caringly.

Eventually, the cries died down, and Whumpee was left in Caretaker's arms, whimpering quietly, their arms now drooping down Caretaker's back.

"How... You're- you're wrong" Whumpee sniffled, well aware of how weak the defense was.

But they were so tired, and still, scared. Desperately, they just wanted to believe Caretaker—believe that they were safe, and believe even that god—not The Leader—but god, either didn't care—or know—about them, or didn't even exist to begin with.

Still terribly unsure of whatever the real truth of it may be—they feared The Leader was right, it was what they'd been taught for so long anyway—they just hoped, so wholeheartedly, but exhaustedly, hoped that they'd be okay. That they'd be safe, that they wouldn't be punished—not for leaving, or for daring to doubt The Leader, and even god.

At least now, in Caretaker's warm arms, they did, indeed, feel safe—for the first time in a very, very long time.

In response to Whumpee's defense, Caretaker only hummed affectionately. Truthfully, Caretaker was proud, so proud, of Whumpee. For the first time in the week they'd been staying with Caretaker, instead of hiding in the closet, or just uncontrollably sobbing and praying while pushing them away, they accepted touch, and comfort, help.

Caretaker knew it'd take a long, long time to work with Whumpee and work towards recovery; Whumpee was still working on processing the very notion that it all, that all of the punishments could've been for nothing. It wasn't as if they had never considered it before. They did at the start, and later on they wondered if—regardless of whether The Leader, or any god was real—anything could've made all that they had been through worth it. Eventually though, they became far too fearful to ever even consider any of it ever again.

Yet here, they slowly fall asleep on Caretaker, their weak body slumping onto them, head awkwardly positioned at their neck; to which Caretaker gently—not too gently this time; without saying anything in fact—positioned Whumpee's body in a more comfortable position, and as Whumpee slept, safely, and warm, Caretaker was sure of it now; they will never give up on Whumpee.

┇A/N: First writing on here! Posting this before my intro as well... it's 3 am now but I just had the urge to write and came up with this (touch starved Whumpee my beloved)... I haven't seen any cult whump recovery drabbles before, so here's one! Hopefully someone enjoyed my writing! ^^