#more whumpees should be aware enough to recognize Caretaker but not to recognize that they're safe

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

June of Doom day 19

“I’m not going anywhere” (wound cleaning, succumb, chair)

Content warning: medical whump, forced drugging

"Please! Please–god, please don't –!" A slurred string of please spilled from Whumpee's mouth as they struggled against the two nurses trying to hold them still. Their movements were desperate, either uncaring or unaware of the damage they were causing their body as they forced themselves off the hospital bed. With each jerk and flail, a blood was left behind. It was clear that they’d reopened their wounds.

"We're going to have to sedate them!" One of the nurses shouted. "Their body can't handle this!"

Caretaker knew they were right. A cold sweat had already broken out on Whumpee's brow and their gown was becoming speckled with blood from both where they'd torn out their IV and popped their stitches. It was clear that pure panic and delirium were the only things keeping Whumpee fighting. They were exhausted. They were confused and terrified, and what they needed was rest. 

Caretaker knew the nurses were right, and yet the sight of them attempting to manhandle Whumpee back onto the bed filled them with a protective anger they struggled to contain. Caretaker wanted nothing more than to tear the nurses off of them, but they couldn’t. Whumpee couldn’t afford to leave, even if they were too far gone to understand that.

Caretaker took a hesitant step forward, arms raised in a non-threatening pose

"Hey, hey…Whumpee, it's me, it's Caretaker," They kept their voice low trying their best not to agitate them further. They had to do something, anything, to get Whumpee the help they needed. "Everything's going to be alright."

Whumpee's head whipped around at the sound of their voice. For a long moment, Caretaker was unsure if Whumpee even knew who they were. But then a look of recognition flashed across their face, and the terror on their face shifted into something more vulnerable. Their eyes filled with tears as they reached their single free arm towards Caretaker. "Caretaker! Help me!" 

The terror in their voice made Caretaker want to cry, but they refused to let the calming look on their face falter. "Okay. I'm going to get you out of here, you just have to calm down."

Whumpee’s eyes didn’t leave Caretaker as they approached, their struggle seemingly forgotten. The nurses stood still at Whumpee's side, too afraid of breaking the calm Caretaker had created to even remove their hands. It was only when Caretaker placed a hand on Whumpee's shaking shoulder that either of them dared to back away.

Whumpee wrapped their arms tightly around Caretaker, tears overcoming them with an ugly sob. Slowly, carefully, Caretaker led them back to the bed. "Whumpee, look at me. Just me. I'm not going anywhere," Caretaker paid no heed to the blood staining their hands. They stared into Whumpee's panicked eyes, blocking their view of the room with their body.

"Please!" Whumpee removed their arms from Caretaker's torso only long enough to grasp towards Caretaker's face, grabbing handfuls of their hair and pulling them closer until their foreheads touched. Their voice was a shaky whisper. "Help me. Please–please don't go–"

"Okay, I'm going to help you. You're going to be fine. You just have to trust me, alright?" Caretaker leaned into their desperate hold, slipping a hand between Whumpee and the bed to  rub reassuring circles into the small of Whumpee's back. They waited until they were sure they could hold Whumpee before turning just enough to catch the eyes of a nurse. Caretaker gave them a pointed nod.

Seeing their signal, a nurse approached slowly, syringe in hand. Caretaker did their best to block Whumpee's view, but they could do nothing to stop Whumper from feeling the nurse's hand on their arm.

The response was instantaneous. "No!" Whumpee shouted, attempting to pull away. With Caretaker’s grip around their body, Whumpee lacked the leverage to pull their arm free. Caretaker could hear their heart pounding as panic overwhelmed then once more. "Stop, stop it! Leave me alone!"

"Shh, it's okay. I'm right here," Caretaker soothed, their grip tightening slightly. Whumpee's struggled only increased. 

"Let go, let go! Help, please! You said you would!" Each word was punctuated with one of Whumpee's fists colliding with Caretaker's back as Whumpee redoubled their efforts to escape, but to no avail. When the syringe entered Whumpee's arm, the screamed.

Hearing Whumpee's panick, seeing the anger and confusion and fear in the eyes, hurt more than any of the desperate blows Whumpee was throwing their way. Caretaker only held them tighter, praying that Whumpee would be able to rest soon.

Caretaker couldn't hide the waiver in their voice when they next spoke. "I'm sorry, but we have to. Everything's going to be better after this, I promise."

It felt like an eternity, but it couldn’t have been more than mere minutes before the drug spread throughout Whumpee’s system, its effects quickened by the pounding of their heart.  As the minutes ticked by, Whumpee’s flailing arms came to rest against Caretaker's back, holding as if unsure if they should be pulling them closer or pushing them away. Their breathing leveled out, their sobbing devolving into quiet wimpers. But the look of terror and betrayal never left Whumpee's eyes, not until they finally shut.

Caretaker only let go once they were sure Whumpee was under. They looked down at Whumpee's tear streaked face, at the blood from their popped stitches that stained their medical gown. Somehow, it felt like Caretaker had failed to protect them again.

Caretaker flinched as a hand landed on their shoulder, turning to see one of the nurses smiling hesitantly at them. "Thank you. You might've just saved their life."

Logically, Caretaker knew it was true. But with Whumpee's blood drying beneath their nails, Caretaker only felt like they’d failed to protect Whumpee again.