#it's broken

[whumpsday]

K&J: Kane's Whumptober Bites #5

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: vampire whumpee, defiant whumpee, broken bones, torture, captivity

@whumptober Day 5: “You better pray I don't get up this time around.” / Pinned Down / “It's broken.”

this one's early captivity kane, when he still has fight in him :)

-

“Fuck you!” Kane shouted, tears in his eyes and voice alike. He hated it. He’d always been an angry crier, and it didn’t help that he was terrified out of his mind, now, too.

Not that he’d ever admit it.

“That’s not very nice,” the hunter pinning him with a boot to the chest mocked.

Kane should have been able to crush him. He would have been able to, the pressure on his chest not even the mildest of inconveniences, but he hadn’t fed in over a month. His body was running on fumes. He hated how good the hunter smelled.

The thought snowballed, became inescapable, and he found himself weakly snapping at the hunter’s ankle. Pinned like this, it was just barely out of reach.

“Hey.” The hunter suddenly stomped down, a couple of Kane’s brittle ribs. He gasped, yanked out of his blood-crazed fervor.

“I’ll kill you,” he wheezed, any force he tried to put behind the threat dying. It was too hard to breathe, and the hunter’s boot still dug into his broken bones– it only made him cry more, until his view of his tormenter became too blurred with tears to make out.

The hunter laughed and pressed down harder. Kane would have screamed if he were able, shards of bone pressing into his lungs. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.”

[illgiveyouahint]

TV is broken

PLEASE READ THE WHOLE ARTICLE BECAUSE IT DESCRIBES ALL THE WAYS THE INDUSTRY IS BROKEN

[callaeidae3]

Whumptober2023 Day 5: Debris | Pinned down | "it's broken"

Susan tending to Kyle's broken leg, making a makeshift splint out of broken wood debri and the rest of the bandages she has on hand.

The broken leg isn't the most concerning injury, however...

[yoinkschief]

Sorry there's only two but OH MY GOD MY HAND IT SHOULDN'T HAVE PUT THAT MUCH EFFORT INTO THAT FUCKING PICTURE JESUS CHRIST

[69hertz]

The compass that doesn't point north 🧡😋🥰😍😏

Day 5 // inktober: Map // whumptober: Pinned down // whumptober: "It's broken"

[symbolicbluecurtains]

"you better pray I don't get up this time around" and "It's broken"

my boy's having a tough fight and should probably call for backup! He's down one leg and ready to fight.

[veldeia]

Fic: A Landslide Is Not a Team Building Exercise

Another little Nimona fill—mostly because I wanted to also write something with Ambrosius.

Fandom: Nimona (2023) Rating: Gen Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word count: 2290 Pairing: Ballister Boldheart/Ambrosius Goldenloin Characters: Ambrosius Goldenloin, Nimona, Ballister Boldheart Additional Tags: Natural Disasters, Protective Nimona, Protective Ambrosius Goldenloin, Whump, Family Bonding, Post-Canon, Major Character Injury, POV Ambrosius Goldenloin

Summary:

Going for a hike in the mountains as a family team building exercise seems like a great idea in theory, but turns out to be a disaster—and that's before a landslide buries Bal alive.

Fill for the Whumptober day 25 prompts Buried Alive and "They're not breathing!" as well as the day 5 prompt "It's broken", and the Buried Alive square for my @badthingshappenbingo card.

Fic on AO3

[bowsie22]

Wumptober Day 5

Sanji has to trust others in his kitchen. It does not go well

He should be used to them, Usopp and Luffy. They were loud, exuberant, very active. Annoying sometimes, but he mostly found their childlike glee and fascination adorable.

Unless they were in his kitchen! That was Sanji's space. Everything had it's place, there was order and calm. And he wanted it to stay that way. Which was why Usopp and Luffy were banned.

Until his injury.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a stupid mistake on his part. Usopp's back was to his attacker, too busy taking out the men surrounding Nami with his slingshot. It was an easy decision to stand between the two and take the blow meant for Usopp, a hard hit across his head that had him unconscious for a day and seeing double for the next two.

A concussion was the last thing the cook needed but alas, it was what he got. It meant he couldn't stand to be in the well-lit galley, the light hurting his eyes and making his headache worse.

Which meant it was up to the others to cook. They weren't terrible, except for Luffy. Usopp could make a great stew, Zoro had perfected a fish curry and Nami had a surprising variety of dishes under belt. Luffy was banned from the kitchen after burning oatmeal. As in setting the pot on fire burning. Sanji still wasn’t sure how that happened.

So Luffy was relegated to helper, chopper, errand boy. It worked, as a short-term solution.

But today, Sanji was all better and more than eager to get back to his favourite thing to do. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting but it wasn’t pure chaos.

“WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO MY KITCHEN!?”

It was a mess. His spices were all out of order and some of them had been mixed together. Pots and pans were scattered over the counters and the sink was still full from last nights meal. Hearing footsteps behind him, Sanji whirled around, glare fixated on whoever was stupid enough to interrupt him. He was slightly calmed when he saw Zoro, who winced as he took in the mess. “I’m sorry sweetheart, yesterday was Usopp. He and Luffy wanted to do something special for their final meal. I should have known they’d make a mess like this.”

Sanji sighed; they meant well. It didn’t make it much better, but they meant well, if nothing else. Zoro stepped past him, brushing a kiss to his cheek as he passed. “I’ll help. Between the two of us, we should have it cleaned by dinner. And then you can cook them both lots of vegetables and no meat.”

Sanji chuckled, feeling better already. He took his place at the sink, Zoro at his side, towel in his hand. They quickly got into a rhythm, their teamwork carrying over onto chores. Zoro got lost in his own thoughts, mindlessly accepting what was handed to him and drying it, hands outstretched and waiting. He’d been waiting a while now, Sanji frozen, staring at something in the sink. Curious, Zoro looked down, wondering what was wrong.

There was one thing left in the sink. A wooden spoon, clearly hand carved, clearly old. It had been snapped in two. Unsure why Sanji was still frozen, what the big deal was, Zoro reached out, flinching when Sanji shoved past him, through the galley door and onto the deck, screaming for Luffy and Usopp. Zoro gathered the pieces of the wooden spoon, following the cook.

He joined Nami on the deck, both watching the scene in front of them, worried for their friend. They’d never seen Sanji like this. He was trembling, red faced, furious with tears in his eyes. “That was my first wooden spoon! The first thing I ever owned that was mine and only mine! Zeff hand carved it for me, it’s lasted over twenty years! One meal with you and it’s gone because neither of you care about anything other than yourselves and your stupid bottomless stomachs! How could you do this? How could you hurt me like this?” He burst into tears; his words indecipherable as he sobbed. Zoro handed Nami the wooden spoon, moving to gather Sanji into his arms and lead him to the orchard. Nami watched them go, turning to glare at the two idiots still sitting on the floor, gaping after their cook. Time to deal with these two.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two days later and things were still tense on the Merry. Luffy and Usopp spent those days in Usopp’s workshop, avoiding everyone. Zoro stayed by Sanji’s side. Sanji wasn’t going to let the two starve, so he delivered their meals through Nami, and if there were more vegetables than meat and more fruit than desserts, both knew better than to complain.

As the sun set on the second day, there was a knock on the galley door, Sanji knowing immediately who it was. He took a deep breath, gestured for Zoro and Nami to stay sitting and enjoy their drink and opened the door. Luffy and Usopp walked in, shoulders hunched, both being unusually quiet. They dropped to their knees in front of Sanji, Luffy the first to speak. “We’re so sorry Sanji. You’re right, we were only thinking of ourselves and what we wanted. We were too rough with your things, and we didn’t give your kitchen the respect it deserves. Please forgive us. “

He nudged Usopp, who pulled something out of his pocket. It was Sanji’s wooden spoon, but different. “We kept the top of the original wooden spoon, and then Luffy and I took some wood from the Merry and carved the handle from that. It might not mean much, but we’re family and this is our home. So now, it’s a memento of both your families and both your homes. We hope at least.”

They waited for what felt like hours. In reality it only took a few seconds for Sanji to pull them both into a tight hug, accepting their apology. “You’re both idiots, but you’re my idiots. Thank you for this, thank you so much.” Zoro and Nami smiled at each other as the three embraced, laughing and crying. Things were back to normal, finally.

“You’re banned from cooking forever though.”

[befuddled-calico-whump]

The Soiree (part five)

@whumptober No. 5: “It's broken.”

cw: noncon touch

previous ///// masterlist

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

The night refused to end.

After enduring another several rounds with the shock baton, Lex's body had all-but given out. He doubted he could stand if he wanted to. When he came to for the third—fourth?—time, the brunette man from earlier had his head in his lap and was idly stroking his hair. Lex hated how it almost felt good, how his battered body was desperately trying to lean into the action as if it were a comfort.

His head was still spinning; nausea swirling inside him like a hurricane. His shoulders shook as he feebly tried to push himself up, not even clearing an inch before his body went slack from the effort.

"Shhh, poor thing," the brunette man murmured, moving his hand from Lex's hair to his face, cupping his cheek. When the assassin didn't even attempt to pull away, the man clicked his tongue.

"I think we broke your plaything, Fox."

Lex barely caught Uriah's reply.

"He's taken worse. I'm sure he'll be alright."

"Glad to hear it."

Another wave of nausea hit Lex as the man slipped out from under him, letting his head fall onto the sofa beneath.

"There are still so many games I'd like to play."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Tag list:

@whumpacabra @enteredin2eternity @kixngiggles @whumpsday @kiichu @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @shywhumpauthor @distinctlywhumpthing , @bloodinkandashes , @fleur-alise , @whumpy-daydreams

[lineffability]

the smut is 22 pages long btw.....and its not done....i'm at the point where i've started listening to the marseillaise as background music

[venera-787]

Could you draw him in rose's outfit 👁️👁️?

[comfy-whumpee]

Unbroken

Whumptober 5, "It's broken." Referenced ableism.

Ellis is back! For comf this time. @bloodybrambles, @wildfaewhump, @lektric-whump, @that-one-thespian, @raigash, @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @rosesareviolentlyread, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog, @burtlederp, @mylifeisonthebookshelf

-

Iz gets to her feet as he steps out of the treatment room. He's looking a little flustered, but not in a bad way, and he's got printouts. She'd sat outside, letting him go in and face the appointment alone with the promise she was right there if he wanted her. One of the things she tried to do for him: assume Ellis can do something independently, but make sure he knows how to get help.

She wishes she'd been there to listen and memorise the conversation. But maybe that's why the printouts are in his hands.

She draws his attention gently, joining to move alongside him. "Hey, boo. You good?"

"I'm good," he agrees absently. She takes his elbow to steer him around a waiting room chair as they head for the exit. He's reading his printout.

She glances at the header. HIP AND KNEE EXERCISES.

Fucking finally. It had taken long enough to get him to the appointment. He was so used to the way his knee acted, and it had taken way too much persuasion that there were still things that could be done for it. Typical Ellis, ready to just accept pain forever.

They step outside into the sun. He looks up at that. It's still something he takes in with deliberate enjoyment. Outdoors. Fresh air. Sunlight.

She steers him clear of the smoking area, but he's paying attention now, and heads over to her bike without nudging.

"Straight home or out somewhere?" she asks him, passing him her spare helmet.

He looks down at it in his hands. He thinks. There isn't anyone at home, so it's not like he has to get back for anyone. They could go anywhere and do anything. Iz never really got over that realisation, once she turned 16 and nobody was going to call her folks for her not showing up to school. She could just get on her bike and go anywhere. It wasn't a motorbike back then, but the idea was the same. Nobody would know or worry, as long as she came back.

"Home," he says. He's not like her. He's had a tiring meeting with the doctor and he wants some rest.

"You got it." She blows him a kiss and he climbs on behind her, arms looping snug around her waist. It settles something for her to feel him there, tucked against her back. He rests his cheek between her shoulder blades. Safe.

The ride is pretty quick, and she keeps a steady pace so he doesn't get nervous. He's still getting used to riding with her, and she's wary of startling him with sudden acceleration or loud revs. One day, she hopes he'll get to enjoy a proper fast ride with her, but not while he's still jumpy. She just gets to enjoy him hugging her the whole way.

When they pull up, he takes off his helmet straight away, and of course his hair looks totally unaffected. She knows she's got the squashed helmet look, but it doesn't make any damn difference when his hair is just flat and long anyway. He doesn't exactly shake his locks out like an 80s babe, but it's enough to catch her eye for a minute as she's meant to be locking up.

Then he's heading to his front door, and all she has to do is follow.

She finally gets all the info out of him when they're sat down. He pulls the printouts from his bag and looks them over again, with her reading over his shoulder unabashedly.

It's all physio exercises, which isn't that surprising. So she asks, "What did the doc say?"

"I have to do these every day," he flips through the sheets. The bald figure-man who demonstrates the exercises looks hilariously deadpan about waving his legs like windscreen wipers. "And the want to do an x-ray and maybe get me a cane."

"Oh, a cane makes sense," she says, instead of focusing on the fucking x-ray they want to do. They really think it's fucked up if they're doing that. Rozen said once that they thought he'd have to have surgery, but Iz had shrugged it off as pessimism. Maybe they would have to put it back together.

"I guess," he murmurs.

"I know a couple people our age with 'em," she says, guessing at his uncertainty. "My mate with EDS brings hers out when she's having a flare-up, like the pain is extra bad. It just makes things a bit less exhausting, right? And I know a guy, back at uni, I think he couldn't stand up for long periods so the cane helped with that. I think that was it anyway, I didn't ask."

He listens to her but he doesn't reply. She wants to keep going, but she leans back again, letting him stew. He needs the time. She's got it. She knows.

Nic's the same, actually. Digging deep takes them a minute. But Ellis doesn't even have to go deep; anything but the top layer is hard. Having depths was banned.

When she thinks she's given him long enough, she offers a nudge. "What's on your mind?"

"It makes me worry," he admits. He doesn't play around at not having thoughts anymore, not with her. "People will ask what's wrong. I don't know what to say. I can't say it's broken, because it's not, but maybe it is?"

"You say 'mind your own'." It's not very Ellis to say it that way, she has to admit, but her first instinct is honest bluntness. She tries to adjust to how he might be approaching it. "You don't owe anyone your life. You can have things you keep to yourself and tell people to butt out. Especially medical stuff."

He leans against her, which she calls a win. "I'll try."

She picks up his spare hand. They've never named what they are, and she's pretty much cool with that, but sometimes she thinks it would be nice to know. It would be nice to call herself something. Call him her something. But if he doesn't want those labels, she gets it. He's had enough of being someone else's.

He relaxes against her, and that's enough. When she takes the papers and leans back to read them more closely, he shifts to stay with her, eyes drifting shut. She'll take him to his other appointments, too. To the hospital, to the physio, to get his cane and whatever else. It's gonna be a while before his stamina builds up. He needs the ride and he needs someone there with him, and she just wants to be around him.

She reads through the exercises. They're not so different to what she does at the gym. She'll do them with him, if she's around at the time he picks. It'll be like normalising it, she thinks, if they're both just doing it together.

If he naps, he drops into it so quietly she doesn't hear it. But after a while she switches back to her phone, writing an update text to Nic for when they're on their break. Then she's scrolling while Ellis rests.

Nic messages back just after one o'clock. Good that he got through it alone. Will look at the exercises. Imagining him with stickers on a cane in the future.

He's napping on me now, Iz returns. Will shop for sticker packs.

Napping on you? Think he knows you're touch starved? ;P

Shut.

She tosses the phone down. Stares at the wall. Watches Ellis from the corner of her eye. Picks the phone up again.

What are we tho???

Ask him!

His tiny breathing snuffles are so cute. She almost wishes that asshole was still around so she could take her crowbar to his knees. See how he likes it.

She's not gonna wake him up just to fix her insecurities. She'll try to get into a paper she's been meaning to read. Elliptical galaxies aren't going to understand themselves.

She wonders if anyone has ever counted the freckles on his hands.

She wonders if he'd be like this to anyone who was nice to him.

She pulls up her PDF and reads.

[secretwhumplair]

After the fight

518 words | Sequel to Meeting

Prompt | No. 5: “You better pray I don’t get up this time around.” | “It's broken.” - @whumptober

Content | Captivity, possession, hopelessness, mention of death, past torture, implied: knife whump, blood loss, fainting

Notes | This one’s finally a bit juicier! Whumpee’s captor just wants to talk.

They lay on the ground, unwilling to put in the effort to get up.

If it wanted to, it could anyway, so why?

Their captor had finally realized there was no conversation to be had with whatever it was that lived in their body, and had left to - well, they didn’t know what. Maybe to come up with other clever ideas to get what he wanted, like the cattle prod had been.

They just wished he had realized this before the being’s continuous attacks, once more without regard for their injured body, had left fresh bruises and electric burns and even a tear or two where he’d jabbed too hard at them on their skin.

»You have to stop,« they whispered. »This body is-« They couldn’t say it. They hadn’t really considered it. This couldn’t be how, and where, they ended their life. »It’s going to break. You can’t want that. I need to recover.«

They felt their lips pull back, baring their teeth, and their throat expulsed an inhuman hiss they had not known it to be capable of.

It was all the answer they got. It was gone again in a moment, and the only thing beyond their control were the tears rolling down their face.

This couldn’t be it. It couldn’t be.

They forced themself up into a sit. If the other wasn’t going to take care of their body, they had to do what little they could.

Right? Or would they be better off letting in break down, show the being the consequences of its actions?

With how things were going, they couldn’t do more than delay the inevitable anyway.

They shivered at the thought. At least they could afford themself whatever comforts they were given, though, so they grabbed their bottle and poured a good drink of water down their parched throat.

When their captor returned this time, their possessor took them over immediately, crouching like an animal ready to charge. At least it didn’t attack immediately. For a moment, they allowed themself hope that it would be reasonable. »You’d better pray I don’t get up this time around.«

»Please, I just want to talk.« His eyes were shining with an enthusiasm they couldn’t place. Maybe they didn’t want to know. He had brought the cattle prod again, except this time, he had attached a - a knife?

»See, human bodies are rather sensitive to blood loss. If you keep fighting me,« he jerked his horrendous homemade weapon, »you’ll soon find you can’t fight any more.«

It snarled, staying so still otherwise their muscles started to ache. »You will regret this, mortal.«

»That is one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. Are you immortal then?«

»I will not be questioned.«

Their captor gave a heaving sigh, and they could feel panic rising in their chest. What would he do if it wouldn’t give him what he wanted? »You’re bound to this body, right? Otherwise, you could long have left and found a better host.«

»It is mine,« it hissed, and attacked.

No!

It wasn’t long before their world went black.

[set-phasers-to-whump]

lessen

prompt: "it's broken"

whumpee: illya kuryakin

fandom: the man from uncle

hiii welcome to another installation of me beating illya up lol. this one is sorta pre-ship gaby/illya but can also be read as established or gen, up to you really

“It’s broken,” Gaby says, cradling his wrist in her hands. The touch is gentle, but it burns like fire anyway. 

“Да, I know,” Illya replies. He’d known from the second it had happened, when that guard had fallen on top of him and his wrist had been pushed into the concrete below him, bending far too much. He’d felt a snap, a white-hot burst of pain, and then the guard’s body had slid off of him and Gaby had been looking at him and saying, “come on, let’s go.”

And so he’d gotten to his feet, and they’d run. His wrist had throbbed with pain the whole time, every step jostling the crushed bones and making him acutely aware of how much damage had been done. 

He hadn’t looked at it until they had gotten into the car, until Gaby had pulled onto the road leading to their hotel, until he’d been sure they were safe. 

Looking at it hadn’t made it hurt worse, exactly, but seeing his wrist, already various shades of purple and red and swollen, had certainly made him more aware of the pain. 

Gaby hadn’t noticed, not until they’d gotten to their room. Not until Illya had tried to take his jacket off and had been unable to stop himself from wincing when the fabric brushed against his wrist. 

His jacket is still on, and they’re sitting on Gaby’s bed, and his thoughts keep spiraling - he cannot work like this. He needs his hands free at all times, ready to grab a gun or a knife or throw a punch at a second’s notice. 

He cannot do what he does if his wrist is broken. 

But he cannot hide the fact that it is. Not least because someone has already seen it. 

“This needs a doctor.”

“We cannot.”

“You cannot do much of anything with your hand like this.”

He knows, and he hates it. He’s a risk, a liability, if he cannot do what is expected of him. He can scarcely even bend his fingers at the moment. He is of no use to anyone. 

He is upset. Not angry, exactly, or at least, not angry with anyone besides himself. 

Gaby makes a soft sound beside him, and he turns his face away, looks down. His throat is aching, like something there is trapped and must be released, but he stays perfectly silent. 

It is the middle of the night. “We will go to a doctor in the morning,” Gaby says softly, touching his shoulder. “I can complete the mission on my own.”

He wants to protest. Wants to protect her, always. She’s more than capable, he knows. And the mission is almost finished, anyway. She can do this. But he wants to be there with her. 

“I will be okay.”

He nods slightly. 

“And we will get you fixed and then you will be okay, too.”

Another nod. 

There is nothing more to be done for tonight. Gaby helps him remove his jacket. It hurts his wrist anyway, but he tries not to let her know. She unties his shoes, and he kicks them off. 

“Thank you,” he whispers into the darkness, when they have both settled into their respective beds. His arm is lying atop the covers, resting on his chest, and he cannot stop feeling the pain. But it has lessened, some. It is not so sharp. 

“Good night, Illya,” Gaby whispers back, and for once, he falls asleep before she does. 

thanks for reading! hope you liked it <3

[lady-wallace]

Whumptober Day 5 - "Misjudged" (Hellsing)

I have a Hellsing fic for today's @whumptober Technically not the first one I've written, but the first one you're seeing :) Hope you enjoy, I have a couple more coming this month.

~~~~~~~

Prompts Used: Debris, Pinned Down, 'It's broken' Fandom: Hellsing/Hellsing Ultimate Character: Integra

~~~~~~~

Read on Ao3

~~~~~~

Integra had trained countless hours to be more than efficient with the sword and with firearms. Working on her skills until she could best all of her instructors. It was needed in her line of work, was demanded, in fact, by her father to make sure that she would be able to look after herself. There was rarely a day gone by that she was not grateful for how her instructors had pushed her, and how she had pushed herself.

But still, all the skill in the world with a sword, and all the marksmanship of a sharp-shooter could not save her from accidents. And when it came down to it, missions in old houses could turn deadly very quickly, and not just because of their occupants.

Integra was on the precarious second story of the old Tudor, facing off against a mob of ghouls. More of her men were further down the hallway and Alucard was somewhere outside, prowling around the perimeter, chasing down the vampire responsible for turning all the ghouls.

"How many more on your end, Harrington?!" Integra shouted to her closest captain as she took out the last ghoul coming at her with a well-aimed headshot.

"Sir, about ten!" he replied.

"I take it you're good up here then," she said.

"We are, Sir Integra!" the soldier shouted, followed by more gunshots.

Integra hurried toward the stairs, planning on aiding the men below with the stragglers.

She only got about halfway down, before a ghoul appeared at the railing above, snarling, getting ready to jump on her.

Integra snarled back and shot upward, hitting the ghoul right in the head.

It slumped, collapsing over the railing and plummeting.

Integra dodged, but as it hit the stairs, the sudden weight broke through the rotting wood and Integra let out a sharp cry of surprise as she collapsed with it, tumbling down with a rending crash into darkness.

XXX

Integra came to in the dark, coughing and blinking dust from her eyes.

"Dammit," she snarled, trying to move, but she was pinned firmly under several heavy boards. She could barely see any light through the cracks.

Integra had never been afraid of the dark, she held control over the scariest monster that resided within it. But this suffocating closeness was different. Especially with a board pinning one arm against her chest, making it hard to get a deep breath.

"Sir Integra! Did she fall?"

"Sir Integra!"

She could hear the men from above.

"I—I'm down here," she called with a cough, furious at how weak her voice sounded in that moment. She didn't think they could hear her.

"We need to find another way down," one of them said. "We can't risk causing anything else to fall down there…"

Integra!

Her eyes opened again as she heard Alucard's voice in her head.

Are you all right, Master?

She coughed again, one side aching. She really hoped her ribs were just bruised and not broken. "I'm alive," she managed.

I'm coming to you.

"Finish your mission first," she snapped.

It is already done. And my Master's safety should take priority.

She couldn't deny the relief she felt as she tried to breathe shallowly.

The men started to shout as Alucard presumably came into the house.

"Alucard—Sir Integra fell down into the basement. We're having trouble getting to her."

"Don't worry, I'll handle this," the vampire's voice came from above.

"You can't just jump down there, you might crush her!"

"I know exactly where she is," Alucard assured and Integra felt him land lightly among the rubble, nothing shifting to sit more heavily atop her. "Integra…"

"Here," she croaked, trying to keep from coughing again.

Debris was swiftly cast aside, and finally the light broke through, leaving Integra staring up at the vampire as he heaved a large board away. A small smile on his face.

"Quite the scrape you've gotten into, Master," he said.

"Shut up and get me out of here," Integra snapped, shifting with a wince. "Something's pinning my leg."

Alucard returned to work and heaved a heavy beam away from Integra's lower limbs. The shifting of the debris also revealed the body of the ghoul which had been rather unfortunately skewered on a piece of rebar. Integra swallowed hard, seeing how close she had come to that being her fate, but she could no longer feel any weight pinning her down so she started to shift upright as Alucard put out a hand to help her.

She pulled herself to her feet before agony tore up her leg and she gasped, instantly collapsing again.

"Integra," Alucard said with a frown, crouching down as Integra turned to stare at her offending ankle, gritting her teeth.

"Dammit," she snarled.

"I believe it's broken," the vampire stated.

"Yes of course it's bloody broken!" Integra snarled. "Now help me up."

Alucard dutifully helped her to her feet again and Integra tried to limp across the uneven debris, but the toe of her boot caught and sent a new wave of agony crashing through her, leaving her biting her lip, letting out a pained growl.

"Sir Integra, if I may…" Alucard said before simply lifting her into his arms in a bridal carry.

"What the hell are you doing?" she demanded.

"You obviously cannot walk right now, so I will carry you," he said with something of a smirk. "Or would you rather I simply sling you over my shoulder."

"Enough, just get me out of here," she growled, trying to keep her face from flaming in embarrassment as Alucard easily leapt up through the opening and carried her outside. She knew it was unavoidable, given her current state, but it was still mortifying having to pass the worried faces of her men like this.

"Now put me down, I'm not a child," she snapped as he got her outside and he set her down on the front stairs.

"No, but you are injured," the vampire said. "And humans are incredibly fragile—even those with a will of iron, Integra." He smiled. He leaned in and Integra was about to snap at him before he said. "Take my advice, and use your convalescence as a reason to escape those meetings you have coming up. I'm sure a broken ankle is a good enough excuse."

Integra exhaled slowly, and a small smile found its way to her lips as she rummaged in her pocket for her cigarettes and a lighter. "You know, that is actually one of your better ideas."

Alucard grinned and bowed. "Always happy to oblige, Master."

~~~~~~~

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Rookie (TV 2018) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Tim Bradford/Lucy Chen Characters: Tim Bradford, Lucy Chen (The Rookie), Original Characters Additional Tags: Whumptober 2023, Whumptober, Hurt Lucy Chen (The Rookie), Worried Tim Bradford, Canonical Tim Bradford/Lucy Chen, Mentioned Nyla Harper, Established Tim Bradford/Lucy Chen, Lucy Chen (The Rookie) Whump, Protective Boyfriend Tim Bradford, Tim Bradford Comforts Lucy Chen, Tim Bradford/Lucy Chen Date, Dating, Mentioned Wesley Evers Series: Part 5 of NatK - Whumptober 2023 Summary:

Whumptober 2023

Day 5 - Debris / "It's Broken"

Chenford Date goes sideways.