#acid whump

[clickerflight]

Whump Week: Your blood looks so pretty

@week-of-whump

Masterlist

Part 3

This one is actually a plot point that I've explored a lot in previous whump challenges, and will continue to explore.

Content: Semi-immortal whumpee, creepy whumper, vivisection, permanent scarring, restrained, blood, mention of skinning for just a moment, healing factor training, self mutilation (whumper), acid in wounds, stress position, healing wrong (I guess?

Let me know if I missed anything cause this one's dark

........................................

Matsu stared into the light above the table he was tied to before looking over at the wall, watching the swirls of colors that somewhat blinded him. It was the most interesting thing he'd had to do for the past few hours. He didn't know why he was here, or what the man who brought him to this place wanted from him, but he was trapped here and he couldn't escape. 

He thought back on the man. There had been something very wrong about him. Matsu wanted to say he was of fae descent, but it was hard to say. The man was bent over and knotted, and he almost seemed to be missing parts. He certainly was missing his sanity if the look in his eyes was anything to go by. 

Matsu heard the door open and he lifted his head from the table to see what was going on. The mad man was back, hunched over and grinning. 

"Hello," the man crooned and it sent shivers down Matsu's back. There was something very wrong about this man, but the half mer couldn't quite place what. "Are you ready to get started?"

"About as ready as I was three hours ago," Matsu said mockingly. "What's this all about, old man?"

"Old?" the mad man said, tipping his head. "If you need to call me anything, you can call me Yarrow. Or, no. You are quite special to me so I should have a special name to you. How about Hailey?"

Matsu wrinkled his nose. "What's going on here?"

"Ooooh, yes. I'm a scientist, you see, and I have some interest in you as it pertains to the research I'm currently conducting. How much do you know about healing factors?"

Hailey waited for a reply and Matsu finally gave in. "Some people have it, some don't. It's usually genetic and can often lead to cancer."

"Smart boy," Hailey said, clapping his hands. There was a pop and a cart full of medical grade tools appeared beside the table. Matsu eyed the knives and rib cutters nervously as Hailey said, "Now, sometimes there is someone who comes along with a trainable healing factor. A healing factor that becomes quicker and more powerful with time to the point that they nearly achieve immortality. So, why don't you guess at why you're here."

Matsu snapped his attention back to Hailey, eyes wide. "I don't have a healing factor, what do you mean?"

"Oh, yes you do. It's hard to spot because it's not trained up yet, but I tested some samples and it's true. Since you haven't had to heal all that often it hasn't presented itself as a healing factor yet. Don't worry. We'll be changing that," he said, picking up a syringe and a knife. 

"W-wait, no. There's been a mistake, I-"

The syringe plunged into Matsu's thigh hard enough that he could feel it unloading. He pressed his head to the table, dizzy as whatever was injected made its effects known immediately. Or maybe that was just the shock. 

Hailey got to work cutting open Matsu's clothing with a zeal that could only be seen on a child's face on Christmas morning.

"I'm going to make you perfect," Hailey whispered before neatly skinning Matsu's collar bones. 

...............................................

Matsu panted, blinking hard against the light above. He didn't know how long he'd been here. It felt like years. It had to have been years. Hailey stood over him, watching as muscle tissue mended before his eyes. 

"You've made quite the progress for the short time I’ve had you. I think you have a talent for this," Hailey commented. Matsu heaved a sob, trying not to think about how he could feel the skin that was supposed to be along the front of his torso folded down across his sides. 

Haily jabbed something into his torso, spreading his ribs to reach in and touch something. An entirely foreign sensation wormed through Matsu's body and he squirmed despite the intense pain jolting through him. 

Hailey reached in deeper and Matsu sobbed, feeling him touch the inside of his back. The pain was unbearable. It was like nothing he could describe. The pain along where he had been vivisected was like lines of fire. Pins in the flaps fastened them to the flesh of his arms, making the folded muscles cramp as they were forced to the sides unnaturally. 

He could see the flaps of skin and muscle twitching as he flinched, trying to get away from the invasive touches. 

Hailey continued to stroke Matsu's spine, a strange look on his face, like he was awakening to something. 

He pulled his blood covered hand out of Matsu and looked at his subject's face. He reached out, still in a daze. Matsu flinched, sobbing without restraint as Hailey painted Matsu's face with his own blood. 

"So pretty," he murmured. "So, so pretty. I'm never going to let you die."

......................................

Matsu was on his feet, arms chained above his head. He stared vacantly at the ground, shivering. He'd been through three vivisections, and there wasn't even a mark on his torso to prove it. Hailey had even opened up Matsu's head and everything had already healed back up even though it had taken place only three days ago. Matsu had no idea what the mad scientist would do next. Scoop out his eyeballs? rip off his fingers to see if they grow back? He already did so to his fingernails, and they'd grown back within the hour. 

Matsu ran his thumb over his nails, shivering more. He wished the others would find him soon. The only thing keeping him sane anymore was imagining Kira helping him down, flirting with him the whole time while Anisha and Laurance pounded Hailey into a little pile of goo. 

Matsu closed his eyes. They wouldn't leave him here, right? Even if their emotional bonds failed somehow, he was still their healer. Still their distance fighter. He was still Kira's husband. 

When he heard the door open, his legs gave out from fear and he hung in the chains, shivering uncontrollably. 

The chain's lowered until he could kneel upright, his arms still stretched out far above his head. 

"I wonder how much it would take to scar you," Hailey said, as though it were an intriguing thought. 

"No," Matsu groaned, closing his eyes against the very idea. "Please, mercy. Please. Whatever I did, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Oh, it was nothing you did," Hailey said, pouring something over his blade which sizzled when it hit the ground. "Just what you are."

"Why are you doing this!" Matsu screeched, struggling to get out of the chains, but even if he broke his hands he wouldn't be able to escape them. 

"To make you perfect. You're not the only one, you know. Here. Hold this and I'll show you."

Hailey stabbed the acid-covered knife into Matsu's shoulder, the burning whiting out Matsu's vision. When he could see again, acclimating slightly to the pain, Hailey had turned around and removed his lab coat. There were burns and scars all over his back, including two large ones where wings used to be. 

He looked over his shoulder at Matsu and grinned. "I've been perfecting myself too, you see."

Matsu couldn't even comprehend what that was supposed to mean, but that became the least of his problems as Hailey buttoned on his coat again, pulling the knife out of Matsu. 

The half mer gritted his teeth. He could still feel the acid burning him, but where it had burned itself out he could feel it healing. 

Hailey reapplied the acid and got to work. 

He carved a line from Matsu's left collar bone down to his ribs on the right. And he did it again, and again, and again. Matsu shook, unable to curl in on himself to protect himself. He screamed the first few times, and then his voice gave out, only allowing him hoarse cries, and eventually just a shallow burbling that Hailey seemed to really enjoy. Hailey poured the acid directly into the wound, everything dribbling down Matsu's front and melting his flesh. He shoved something into the wound to keep the skin from closing and, after taking a moment to paint Matsu's face with a mixture of blood and acid, he left, whistling as he went. 

..................................

Matsu didn't remember much after that. What he did know was he had a horrific scar across his chest. 

"Matsu? Matsu? Can you hear me?"

Matsu opened his eyes. He was laying on the floor, his arms bound behind his back. He didn't remember getting there. 

Laurance crouched over him, looking him over. 

"Laur....." Matsu wheezed. His voice was still mostly gone, more from exhaustion than damage. His voice couldn’t be damaged anymore. Laurance pulled Matsu into his lap, cutting away the restraints with a practiced flick of his knife. 

"We've got you, okay. Who did this to you? This place is abandoned."

Matsu blinked hard, raising his hand to his face. He was losing seconds with each blink, too tired to think straight. His hand. His hand felt wrong. He tried to lift his pointer finger, but something moved wrong in his wrist and his ring finger lifted. He stared at it for a moment before moving each finger, trying to figure out why it was wrong. 

"Matsu?"

"He..... he connected my tendons wrong," he whispered. "Why.... why would....when…" 

Laurance held Matsu close as the man broke down into small, raspy, whimpering sobs.

Part 4

@whumpsday

[bloodshottears]

Whumpee is rescued from Whumper with few visable injuries, but they haven't said more than a few words since they were found and they refuse all food and drink. At some point, Caretaker wakes up to see a trickle of blood coming out of their mouth. The inside of their throat is ragged and bloodied. Maybe they even start throwing up blood, inflamming their injuries more. Where is all this coming from? The acid that Whumper force fed Whumpee days earlier.

[whimp-whamp-whump]

you wouldn't want to dip whumpee's hand in piranha solution ... would you? 😳

[thatgenderfluidmonstrosity]

Oh, Whumpee would like to be freed from their chains?

*Acid pouring ensues.*

[hood-ex]

Dick got his legs burned by acid!! And nearly!! Bled out!! Let's go!!

Batman/Superman: World's Finest #15

[whumpty-dumpty]

Bonus Lady Whump:

Coronation Street 27th March 2023

requested by @theofficialdramallama

You can watch the episode here.

[rainbowsandwhumperflies]

tw for vomit and tooth whump

Apparently your teeth are kinda easy to erode? If you've never heard of "mountain dew teeth" it's when you drink too much mountain dew and even if you brush teeth really well, your teeth just start wearing away.

Anyway, this can also happen if you have bad acid reflux, or if you vomit a lot. This is because your stomach acid is pretty acidic and will literally wear away your bones if it comes up too much. (mt dew is also pretty acidic, and more common)

So yeah. Does your whumpee get access to the right quality of food? (Different types of food can affect acid reflux a lot. Frequent vomiting is a whole other problem.) And the right quality of dental care?

[in-love-with-writing-whump]

Burns+Scars x Defiant Whumpee

Based on my last two polls, this is what we've got! TW: Swearing

Caretaker dreamt of Whumpee at night. The witty comebacks to any insult hurled their way, the constant sarcasm, the flirty attitude towards them... They were the fiesty fire to their calm waters, the ray of sunshine that brightened their life. God, Caretaker lived them.

As Caretaker made their way down the hall, they could still see Whumpee as they lifted the debris from the explosion off them, the way they ignored the pain of the fire eating away at their hands for them. Caretaker needed to save them, if only to thank them. If only to tell them how they felt...

They opened the door to the cell, eyes immediately drawn to where Whumpee sat in the corner, head buried in their knees. "Whumper, I told you, if you touch me again, I swear to fucking God, I will break your fucking hand and shove it up your ass."

Caretaker smiled weakly. "Whumpee, it's me."

Whumpee lifted their head, a blindfold covering most of their face. They smiled, a fresh cut still bleeding on their bottom lip. "Caretaker, you're okay!"

Caretaker laughed. "Yeah, thanks to you and Medic. I still can't believe that was all so Whumper could get their hands on you."

Whumpee held up their cuffed wrists. "You got a key?"

"A lockpick." Caretaker headed over to Whumpee, crouching before them. They fussed with the lock, sighing as the cuffs fell to the ground. Whumpee held their irritated wrist in their hand as Caretaker pulled the blindfol from their face...

Whumpee's smile faded. "Caretaker, what's wrong?"

Fresh scars crossed over one another, probably from some sort of acid from the looks of it. Whumpee's eyes stared blankly in front of them, even as Whumpee cocked their head to the side. "Caretaker, did you take the blindfold off yet? What's wrong? You're being awfully quiet, even for you."

Caretaker struggled for words. "Whumpee, I took the blindfold off already."

[painsandconfusion]

Squick-worthy things to do with skin

(tw: idk how to tw for prompt lists besides just re-stating the list but there's a lot of skin ripping, twisting, burning, and subdermal things, so I wanted to mention it)

Sandpaper. Rub.

Peel it back a little bit at a time. See how big of pieces you can get.

Cheese grater. Get some longggg strips. Like noodles.

Rub ground glass into it.

Put out cigarettes in open cuts.

Shove a prong under it.

Toothpicks. Let the splinters catch on flesh as they shove under, parallel to the surface.

Burn it until it melts and warps and drips away.

Superglue it to other parts of the body, a wall, the floor, etc. It’ll tear off.

Inject salt water under it.

Stitch cuts shut after shoving things inside. Razors, broken glass, screws, etc.

Melt hot tar onto it and rip it away. See how much skin comes up with it.

Carve the face away from the skull. Tan the skin into a mask.

De-gloving.

Tattoo gun. Acid. Make the scar pretty.

Liquid nitrogen burns.

Add suspension piercings. (Hook slipping under the skin of the back and whumpee hanging by that alone)

Piers. Pinch tight and twist until that spot rips away.

Thread a sharp wire under the skin and send electricity through it. (this one courtesy of wormwriting)

Carving whumpee’s tattoos out to make them ‘perfect’ again.

Cut parallel stripes, filet them away from the flesh underneath (still attached on both sides), then crochet it into a pretty braid straight up like it’s an early 2000’s ripped tshirt.

Visuals:

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @happy-little-sadist @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @wibbly-wobbly-whump @batfacedliar-yetagain @suspicious-whumping-egg @meowsikbox @villainsvictim @throwawaywhumper @wild-selenite-caffine @whumpasaurus101 @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whumpworld @michaeltalks @pinkieglitterheart @whumpberry-cookie @rainbows-and-whumperflies @astralrunic @cursedscribbles @shywhumpauthor @cyberneticwhump @bumpwhump @hold-back-on-the-comfort @veyroswin @whumping-seven-days-a-week @whumpingisfun)

As always, lmk if you want to be added or removed from any tag lists!

[whumpookies]

Star Trek voyager: season 3 I think 🤔

Whilst playing in the holodeck, the program is havked, Paris is injured but the holo game, holo doc is evil putting citrus acid in the proverbial wound 😈

[justanillvampire]

Actually woke up feeling normal. Only took 30 minutes for pain to settle in my right knee and stomach. I can hear the acid splashing and feel it rise to meet my oesophagus with a searing greeting.

Pills/food/water does nothing to quell the burn or stop the acid from breaching my delicate throat. I feel kind of nauseous like food is very off putting. However if I don’t eat I’ll make it so much worse and if I do eat 50/50 that makes it worse.

[faofinn]

25. Acid Reflux/Heartburn

@sicktember

Fao knew eating Chinese takeaway so  late at night had been a mistake. Him and Hars had both finished late after their shifts, exhausted and not about to cook. They picked it up on the way home, not walking in the door until about 9. By that point they were tired and starving, and curled on the couch, the food quickly disappeared. 

Full and content (and half asleep) the pair of them went to shower. After a long and frustrating day, the hot water was exactly what they needed. Fao slipped out for a smoke before bed whilst Harrison was in the shower, letting the dog out at the same time. 

The dog finished and looking for attention, Fao finished his cigarette and headed back inside. He took his evening meds, brushed his teeth, and then settled in bed with his boyfriend, content. Their day had not only been long, but emotionally draining too, and they spent a little bit of time talking softly about their day, able to offload on each other about their own worries. It was so nice, to have someone who got it. Their patients weren’t always the same, and the worries were often different, but there was a mutual understanding. Soon the conversation turned to lighter things, and not long after that the pair of them were asleep. 

Except Fao woke up a couple of hours later, nauseous and with a burning in his chest. There was admittedly a flutter of panic, concerned his AF was flaring again, but it eased slightly when he sat up, and as he woke a little more, he realised it was nothing more than acid. Of course it was. They’d eaten late, and Fao had picked a few of his favourites, with plenty of salt and chilli. He’d barely been able to eat all day, it was no surprise the sheer amount of food and the spice was setting him off after having an empty stomach all day. God, was this what getting old was like? Fucking heartburn. Way to make him panic in the middle of the night.

Rubbing his chest absently, he slipped out of bed, trying not to disturb his boyfriend and the dog. He padded across the room to the bathroom, digging around in the cupboard for some antacids. He knew there were some in there somewhere, he just couldn’t bloody find them.

Harrison had half woken up when Fao got up, missing the warmth of the bed. He figured Fao would be back in a few moments, but when he didn't hear the running of water and Fao didn't reappear, worry kicked in. 

"Fao? You okay?" He called, struggling to get his leg on quickly. 

“Mm?” Fao hummed distractedly. “‘M okay.”

"You haven't come back. What's wrong?"

“Heartburn.” He grumbled. “Can’t find the Rennies.”

"Heartburn?" Harrison's stomach flipped. "Are you sure?"

“Yeah. My own fault for eating too late and too much chilli.” He grumbled. 

Harrison had finally managed to get to the bathroom, and he wrapped an arm around Fao's waist. "Are you sure? Can you sit down?"

Fao leaned into him. “Hars, I’m fine.”

"You said that last time. Come on, sit, let me check you over."

“Seriously? I’m fine, I swear.” Fao said, but reluctantly sat down. “Can you at least find some antacids?”

He hummed, rummaging through the cupboards. "Where's the aspirin?"

“I don’t need aspirin, I took my meds tonight. I need fucking Rennies.” 

"But just in case."

“I don’t need it. My heart is fine.”

"You've got pain. In your chest."

“I’ve got heartburn because I sleep on my stomach. And I ate spicy greasy food just before bed.”

"Fine. Rennies now, then let me check you over."

“Yeah, sure.”

Harrison passed him the box before awkwardly crouching in front of him. "Let me check."

Fao took one from the box, unwrapping it and chewing on it. He winced at the flavour, but it would at least fix this problem. “Go for it. I’m fine.”

He took Fao's wrist in his hand, gently feeling for his pulse. He hated to admit that it felt normal, and Fao didn't look anything like he'd expected if he was having issues with his AF. Maybe Fao was fine, and maybe Harrison was overreacting just a little bit. As much as he would never admit it, their early wake up call with his AF had hit Harrison harder than he'd expected. Every stumble, every time he rubbed his chest, or stood up too quickly and had to steady himself had Harrison’s own heart racing, fear rising in his throat.

“All okay? It still feels a bit wonky sometimes when you take it but I feel completely fine.”

Harrison rocked back onto his heels. "Yeah."

“Can I go back to bed then?”

"If you're absolutely sure you’re fine?"

“I’m fine. This is just heartburn, go and find your steth if you’re so worried.”

"I don't want to leave you alone." He admitted, not looking Fao in the eye.

“I’ve got legs, I’ll come with you.”

"No. You can't."

“I’ll go to bed and wait there.”

"No, because then I'll have left you."

“Honestly, Tomcat, I feel fine. If you’re worried let me walk with you and give you peace of mind.”

"I just can't lose you."

“I’m not going anywhere. I’d tell you if I felt bad, honestly.” He stood up stiffly. “Come on, what can I do to put your mind at rest? Apart from an ECG, because we’ve not got one at home.”

"I don't know."

“Let’s just go back to bed, then?”

Harrison hung his head. "I can't."

“Hars, I love you, and I want to help you, but it’s the middle of the night and I’m tired. Can we go back to bed?” Fao said softly.

"If you want to help me," he admitted quietly, "you can help me up. I'm stuck."

“Oh.” Fao couldn’t help but laugh. “You idiot, come here.” He stood up and offered Harrison his hands. 

Harrison took them gratefully, struggling up to standing. "The ankle keeps locking up, I need to get it seen to."

“I can have a look tomorrow, if you don’t want to take it somewhere?” Fao offered. “Can’t promise I’ll help, but I’ll try.”

"It's okay. I'll just ignore it again."

“Nah, you’ll get stuck somewhere again.”

"You can just rescue me."

“I’ll follow you around then, waiting to scoop you up like a Knight in shining armour?”

Harrison leaned in, wrapping his arms around Fao. "Sounds good."

“A knight with a dodgy heart.” He murmured, leaning into him. 

"Better than one with no leg."

“We make a right pair, don’t we?”

After a moment together like that, the pair of them headed to bed. Fao curled up against Harrison, humming contentedly. He hadn’t meant to scare him, he’d just not been able to find the antacids. Now he’d found them, he felt better, and soon fell asleep again.

[whumpybobbert]

The Flash 1x14

Barry Allen: Needles embedded in skin, acid attack

Harrison Wells: Betrayal (whumper), drugged drink (whumper), human trafficking (whumper), threatened

Martin Stein: Drugged, human trafficking, electrocution

Gen. Wade Eiling: Threats (whumper), human trafficking (whumper), torture (whumper), kidnapping, mind control

Ronnie Raymond: Phantom pain, self-harm

[whumpshaped]

"Glad you enjoyed your snack then"

yeah it's acid time

no more other hand for him

tw fingore, interrogation, acid, broken bones

You idly pick off his nails one by one on his other hand. You chat to him, tell him about all these crazy privileges he'd get if he just told you the names, like free range of movement, medical care, lack of torture... You break all the little bones in his hand with the hammer until it's completely useless, and you listen to him whimper for the first time.

"I can see that I'm boring you. I apologise for that. Let me get something else."

"No!" he blurts out, half-annoyed, half-scared. He seems to regret it immediately, slumping back in the chair like an embarrassed child.

"What was that?"

You get no response.

"Well, you know how to stop this."

The bottle makes a distinct sound against the table, one the man seems to recognise. He steels himself against whatever he thinks you have in your possession, tensing up to the point you think he'll get muscle cramps.

"Relax, man. We're just talking." You pop the cap off and let a few drops of acid land on his hand. He has a stronger reaction than you expected, yanking on his hand and trying to get away from the burns like a wild animal. It's probably not the severity of the pain. The extended torture must be getting to him.

"Why can't you understand that I won't fucking give you the names?" he yells. "I won't! I won't, you can pour the whole bottle down my throat, I won't give you the fucking names!"

A noble suggestion, one you tuck away in the back of your mind.

"Everyone can be convinced," you say with a small smile. You're sure he can hear it in your voice.

He's getting more and more frantic. He just needs a little more love, a little more encouragement. You snicker a little at the thought before pouring more of the acid onto his exposed skin.

[catsconflictscopicsandchamomile]

when you have The Destiel Whump Ever alllll planned out but u know it would take a while to write (despite being technically not that long) and that the plot is going to change DRASTICALLY based on how CW Gotham Knights ends

[peachesofteal]

18+ mdni / dark and twisty, whump

It’s snowing.

You don’t even have to move your head to see in order to know. There’s something about how it hangs in the air, how the world sounds and feels during a snowfall that blankets everything, houses, trees, mountains, your mind.

You love it. Always have. Even as a child, winter was your favorite. Winter brought you a sense of calm, of peace. It was what drove you to move out here in the first place. Chasing the snow. The feeling of a quiet forest, lying still beneath the soft spun expanse of white. The smell of the air the morning before a big snow, the eternal quiet that exists in the darkness when everything is dampened down by the weight of a million, billion unique, crystallized webs.

Except this snow feels different. It doesn't feel like a velvety white, soft dream world, but a nightmare... one filled with pain, anxiety. Why are you here? What's happened?

And why do you hurt so fucking bad?

"You're awake." A deep voice says from your side, and you flinch on instinct, immediately wishing you hadn't as lighting sharp pain shoots through your upper arm all the way to your neck, and you cry out. "Easy." It's the brown eyed man, the bigger one. He's sitting in a chair that cannot possibly be comfortable, watching you.

"Where... am I?" You manage to choke out through stiff lips, your head spinning and the world tilting at the same time. It sours your stomach, more than you thought possible, and you try to choke back the burn of bile that's racing up your throat.

"Are you going to be sick?" He reaches, stroking a finger down your face. You hold your tongue, unsure, and he must not like it, because he sighs, and then frowns at you. "Tell me."

"No, I don't-" You can't even finish your denial before your stomach is heaving, and he's springing to action shifting you amidst unbearable pain, turning you on your side to where a clean bucket sits, right beneath your bed.

"It's alright, that's it." A hand soothes up and down your back as you dry heave, sputtering on nothing, tears leaking from your eyes.

"Nnnrgh-"

"I know, I know. Poor thing." He coos, and it sounds so... endearing, so sweet yet... frightening, like the poison of a predator, a pretty display meant to draw you in before it snaps a set of jaws shut around your face.

"H-hurts." You cry as he rolls you back into your original position. "It hurts."

"I know it does, sweet girl. We're going to fix it." He dabs a cloth on your face, across your forehead and then down to clean your mouth up, just as the man with the mohawk appears on the bed, one knee down, leaning over you, concern rife in his features.

"Poor baby. Were ye sick?" You blink up at him. What is going on? He presses a glass to your lips, encouraging you to drink, and then pulling it away after you've had a few sips with a gentle 'not too much'.

"Who are you?" You smack your lips. The water is cold, refreshing, but a ting acidic, and you wonder if it's well water, maybe?

"I'm Johnny." He's setting up something, beside you. You can see him organizing something, but can't quite make them out due to your lack of mobility. "An' this is Simon. Or Si. But ye probably won't be callin' him that quite yet." Johnny and Simon. Did they find you? Did they rescue you? Why can't you remember?

"What happened?" You try again, gritting your teeth against the pain.

"Ye had an accident, remember? We talked about this yesterday? Ye slid off the road, ended up in a thick of trees. Ye're lucky the one didnae impale ye." Impale?

"And you found me?" You're starting to feel tired again, all the sudden, woozy and weird, exhaustion pulling at your limbs. Shouldn't you be in a hospital? Why haven't they taken you to a doctor?

"Aye, we did. Pulled ye free, brought ye home." Home?

"We couldn't leave you to die, and the storm is pretty bad. Pass is closed." Simon offers as an explanation, and you close your eyes. Of course. The pass is closed.

"Thank... thank you." Johnny hums, and then to your complete shock, leans forward, brushing his lips against yours as you blink furiously.

"Want ye to know, if we didnae have to do this, we wouldnae." What?

"Do what?" The broad one, Simon, casts you a mournful glance, rising from the chair. He's got a piece of leather in his hand, like a cut from a belt, and your eyes dart between them. Do what?

"Bite down on this, precious." Simon instructs, placing it against your bottom lip, to which you jerk away in protest with a whimper.

"Do what?" You try again.

"We need to set your humerus, and clavicle." Set your humerus? And your-

Oh. Oh no.

"N-no. No, you ca-can't." You stutter, but Johnny gives you a sad look, shifting on the bed to place a hand on your belly, stroking upwards to the middle of your chest, the other holding firm against your good shoulder, the one that doesn't hurt. His hand is warm, so warm against you, and his thumb rubs in a cautious motion against your skin, lightly grazing the underside of your breast. It feels weird, and wrong... intimate. "Please, don't. Please, please-"

"It's alright." He shushes you, and the pressure against your body increases as Simon wedges a thick finger between your teeth, slipping the worn leather into your mouth, bracing a hand above your elbow, and below your shoulder on the side that hurts. You gasp for air, fear shaking your body, and Johnny coos at you, telling you you'll be alright, that you're with them now and they'll take care of you, that it will only hurt for a little. "Ye'll probably pass out, bonnie. We'll get the second one done while ye're down, and I already gave ye something for the pain." He assures, like it's supposed to relieve you, and your nostrils flare as something tightens against your arm. Simon's grip.

This can't be happening. How can this happen? No, nononono-

There's a crack. A crunch. Burning, obliterating agony that's delivered to your arm like a shot. You scream and bite down at the same time, raw misery trying to claw it's way out of your throat. You think you're crying, hallucinating from the pain, having a heart attack, everything all at once. It hurts. It hurts so bad, it hurts-

"We're sorry, we're sorry." Simon soothes, thumb wiping your cheek, but you can hardly hear him, your mind starting to sever itself from your body, floating away as you slip inside a dark tomb of your mind, losing yourself to unconscious as they both stare down at you, sickeningly sweet concern layered overtop the faces of a bear and a wolf, predators licking their maws in preparation, waiting to devour their prey.