#mwmday21

[serickswrites]

Charisma

Warnings: restraints, captivity, torture, forced to watch, water torture, waterboarding

"Sit," Whumper ordered Team Leader.

Team Leader's hands were bound tightly behind their back and they avoided glancing over at their team. They couldn't look at their faces. Couldn't bear to see the worry, the pain, and the fear. They had to be strong. For their team.

Team Leader sat on the chair carefully. They turned their gaze to Whumper, letting all the rage and hate they were feeling fill their eyes.

"Your team would follow you blindly anywhere, Team Leader. Such charisma," Whumper scoffed. "Let's see if they will follow your orders now."

"For?"

Whumper smiled. "If they don't make a sound while I do this, I won't hurt them. Heck, I won't let you die. But if they speak? Well, we will play musical chairs."

"Fine." Team Leader wouldn't let Whumper hurt the others. They would take whatever Whumper did.

They finally looked up and over at their team. Smallest Teammate shook in their restraints, though the look on their face made Team Leader think that Smallest Teammate was so rage filled right now, it was a miracle the restraints were holding them back. Teammate One's eyes were filled with tears. And Teammate Two just stared blankly ahead.

"Don't speak. Don't shout. Whatever you do, just please, be quiet. Whumper won't hurt you. And I'll," they swallowed, "I'll be fine."

Whumper kicked Team Leader's chair over backwards. Team Leader hit the ground hard, but didn't cry out. If they didn't cry out, the team wouldn't know they were hurting.

Whumper dropped a filthy, damp towel on Team Leader's face. "This is going to be fun."

And before Team Leader could get a good breath in, Whumper blasted Team Leader's face with cold water from a hose. Team Leader sputtered and choked around the water.

They could hear Smallest Teammate's growls and Teammate One's cries of protest. But they couldn't muster the energy to try and get them to stop. They could only hope that Whumper would keep hurting them and not the rest of their team.

"I was going to let up. But now that Smallest Teammate's sweet dulcet sounds are in my ears, I'll keep going. That's way more fun!" Whumper's voice was barely audible as they increased the water pressure.

It was all Team Leader could do to keep breathing. To keep calm. They had to, though they felt as though they were drowning. Felt as though their world was ending. They had to stay strong for their team.

[chaotic-orphan]

Partners in Crime (Merry Whump of May: day 21)

Charismatic : “sit”// vial // balcony

Tw: forced swallowing of suspicious substance, handcuffs, small spaces

Completely unedited :) so read at your peril

~*~*~*~*~*~

Casper let out a groan as the car finally came to a stop. With his hands cuffed behind his back and his legs bunched up in the tight space, there was no way to stop himself from hitting his head off a corner at the sudden stop. It only aggravated his headache from the beating Monroe’s goons had given him before they stuffed him in here.

Casper heard two car doors open and close followed by footsteps that got closer and closer to the boot. Casper knew this was inevitable, if you stuff someone in a boot and park the car, usually you’re going to have to remove them from the boot, but still… his heart pounded all the same.

It was Gavin who opened the boot and stared down at Casper with a wicked grin. “Enjoy the ride, Casper?”

“I’d enjoy it more if I didn’t have to see your face, ugly,” Casper replied, already moving to sit up in the boot which turned out to be more of an effort than he initially thought.

As soon as he sat up Gavin had a fist wrapped into Hero’s shirt and yanked him forward. Casper’s eyes went wide but he could do nothing to stop himself as his body went with gravity and he fell face first onto the concrete. At the last-minute Casper jutted his shoulder forward, taking the brunt of the impact there instead his face but it still hurt.

“You’re such a dick,” Casper spat, rolling onto his back and wanting to kick his legs at Gavin. He would have too, except for his legs being dead. His blood fizzed as feeling slowly returned to him. Gavin let out a stupid laugh that grated on Casper’s ears, hurting more than the fall.

God… Casper really wanted Monroe to just kill the fucker already. Give Casper some peace, hire better goons.

“Oi,” the other goon called, voice drawl and monotone. “What’s the holdup?”

“He’s being difficult,” Gavin said in reply. Casper heard a sigh and then the other guy walked around the car to see Casper lying on the ground. Casper instantly scurried backwards as best he could on his cuffed hands and pins-and-needle-riddled legs that was just becoming awake.

Monroe’s other favourite goon, who Casper only knew as Dante, was far scarier than Gavin thought he was. He was lethal, efficient and humourless. His pale eyed stare pinned Casper in place after Casper’s back hit the wall. Casper watched as Dante reached behind his back and retrieved his gleaming pistol, drawing back the hammer and loading a round into the chamber with the simple flick of his thumb.

Dante inclined his head, voice monotone as he said: “would you like to walk up to Monroe’s suite, Casper? Or crawl?”

Casper set his mouth into a resolute, thin line, trying to maintain any of his dignity that vanished when Dante was involved. “I think I’ll walk,” Casper replied, already pushing himself up by leveraging his back against the wall.

Dante’s expression didn’t change. He didn’t holster his pistol; he just walked over to Casper and grabbed the crook of his elbow before pushing him towards the lift that led to the hotel above. Casper knew exactly where he was. Dante had brought him here multiple times before. The handcuffs and the boot treatment was new, but Casper didn’t have to think twice about why he was cuffed. Why Dante was being especially impatient…

Gavin followed him into the lift and pressed the button for the penthouse suite. This was when the nerves usually kicked in, but today Casper was more scared of Dante than Monroe. Monroe, he could sweet talk. Dante was like talking to a wall. An imposing, emotionless brick of a wall. The only advantage Casper had for assurances that Dante wouldn’t kill him was Monroe’s… fondness for Casper.

On good days, Casper liked to think on his relationship like more of a partnership. Where Casper and Monroe were equals. That’s the way it had always been, but lately… well, things have been tense to say the least.

He cast his eyes to the ascending numbers of the lift, watching every floor rise until he reached floor 63: Monroe’s home, the penthouse suite.

Dante punched in the six-digit passcode to enter the penthouse, while Gavin nudged Casper with his shoulder. “You fucked up big this time Casper, I don’t think Monroe’s gonna be so forgiving.”

Casper scoffed, glancing back over his shoulder to Gavin. “Even if he kills me, it would be a blessing. At least I wouldn’t have to stand so close to you.”

“You just think you’re so smart, don’t ya?” Gavin cursed, shoving Casper forward. Casper didn’t brace for a push and so he stumbled forward, just at the perfect timing that the lift doors opened. Casper lost his balance but recovered slightly and only dropped to one knee.

“I don’t think I’m smart, Gavin,” Casper replied easily, getting one foot under him. He shot a smirk over his shoulder to the bull in a China shop and said: “I just know I’m smarter than you.”

Casper got his second foot under him and went to stand but froze when he felt Gavin’s meaty hand on the back of his neck.

“Why you little—”

Dante’s cool voice cut through Gavin’s no doubt colourful insults. “You’ve wasted enough time already.”

Gavin’s hand disappeared from Casper’s neck, instead Dante’s hand replaced it and yanked Casper up. Before Casper could protest, Dante shoved him forward, further into Monroe’s apartment, the threat clear. Keep walking or else.

“Okay, alright! I’m going,” Casper grumbled, rolling his shoulders, thankful his legs had stopped prickling and was now fully functioning. Casper walked into the kitchen and froze.

Sitting at the kitchen island with a steaming cup of coffee beside him sat Monroe. He smiled when he saw Casper and stood to greet him. A hand pressed between Casper’s shoulder blades shoved him further into the kitchen, barely catching himself.

“Casper,” Monroe greeted, his voice soft and melodic like a warm tenor, pleasing on the ear. “I’m so happy to see you.”

Casper bit back his unhelpful reply and just beamed a smile at Monroe instead. He had to play this safe, otherwise he’d probably end up dead. Casper matched Monroe’s steps forward, shrugging as casually as he could with his hands cuffed behind his back.

“Yeah, well. Not every day you get thrown into the boot of a car by two goons, is it?”

Monroe’s grin was sharper than a Stanley blade as he extended a hand to Casper’s forehead where Gavin had slammed his head against the ground to stop him from fleeing.

“You’re bleeding,” Monroe said, tenderly touching the broken skin around the wound. Casper barely caught the greedy look in Monroe’s eyes before he pressed his thumb to Casper’s cut. Casper hissed and recoiled, but Monroe caught the back of Casper’s head with his other hand and kept him still. “Does it hurt?”

“Yes!” Casper hissed, trying to shoulder Monroe away from him.

The corner of Monroe’s lips twitched up. “Good,” he said, digging his thumb in harder before pulling away from Casper altogether. The pain was more of an annoying ache really, a loss of sensation but he wanted to relieve it somehow. He wanted to reach up and press a tender hand to it, but with his hands cuffed he couldn’t really do much of anything.

He watched as Monroe strolled over to retrieve his coffee off the island, then shot a pleasant smile back and Casper.

“Shall we enjoy the sunset on the balcony, Casper?” He asked, but he was walking before Casper could answer. Casper glanced back to Dante and Gavin before setting his jaw and reluctantly following Monroe out to the balcony.

“I’d enjoy the sunset if you took these cuffs off,” Casper told Monroe, voice sweet like honey. Monroe smiled at Casper as he sat in his favourite cushioned armchair and set his coffee on the glass table in front of him.

Monroe gestured for Casper to take his usual seat in front of Monroe’s, “please, sit.”

“You know what, Monroe? I’d love a coffee, if you’re feeling generous,” Casper said with a sigh and a cheeky smile as he settled into his own cushioned chair.

Monroe laughed. “Oh, Casper… I am feeling a lot of things towards you at the moment,” his brown eyes cutting into Casper’s. “Not one of him is generous.”

Casper reclined back into the chair, kissing his teeth and switched his gaze to the bustling city instead. The sunset was beautiful, casting the buildings with soft orange light as the sun sank low into the blue and pink sky. Casper wished he could enjoy it like he usually did. Instead, he was here, sitting across from Monroe and trying his best to ignore the claw of fear that had gripped his chest.

“I thought we had an understanding, Casper,” Monroe began with his soothing tone and sugar-coated words. “I thought we was partners.”

“Yeah,” Casper said with a scoff, turning to look at Monroe. “I thought so too. Then, next thing I know Dante’s at my door, beating the shit out of me to drag me here to you! My phone didn’t break by the way, it still works. Normal people call when he need something.”

Monroe’s eyes flashed with a drop of cruelty, a knowing smirk spreading across his face.

“Are you really trying to play coy with me, Casper?” Monroe asked with a laugh. “We both know you’re smarter than that.”

Casper sat forward in his chair and tried for a charming smile. “How about you take these cuffs off and we can have a lovely little chat, hmm? That’s what you want right? To smooth everything over.”

Monroe hummed, taking a sip of his coffee and glancing out across the city’s skyline. Casper huffed out a scoff and rolled his eyes, glancing back to the door to track where the other two arseholes was.

“Of course, Casper. We can have a civil conversation.”

Casper cocked an eyebrow, waiting for the and, if or, but. Monroe in reply, took something out of his pocket and placed it on the table between him. Casper made a point of looking at it — it was like a scientist’s test tube but smaller with a cork in it, or a vial of some toxic substance. The liquid inside was a deep purple where the sun hit it, but otherwise it looked black. When Casper glanced back at Monroe he was smiling, looking very comfortable and pleased with himself.

The warning bells was already blaring in his mind, so Casper just remained silent. Even if he wanted to speak, he wouldn’t know what to say.

“I’ll take off your cuffs, as long as you drink this.”

“I can’t drink it unless you take the cuffs off,” Casper shot back, agitated.

“Nonsense, “Monroe waved away, grabbing his coffee from the table and nodding at someone behind Casper. “That’s what I pay Dante for.”

A hand crossed in front of Casper, and he recoiled back, his heart racing. He jumped to his feet as Dante appeared in front of him, but a pair of hands on his shoulders dragged him back down to the chair and held him there.

There was a pop as the vial was uncorked.

“No, no, no! Wait!” Casper cried, struggling under Gavin’s hold as Dante stepped too between Casper’s legs that ruled out the use of his legs. “Monroe! What is that?!”

“Open up, Casper,” Dante said in the same monotone droll. “Don’t make me force you.”

Casper’s chest rose and fell too fast as he continued to struggle, turning his head away as Dante reached forward. A hand in Casper’s hair had him crying out as Dante wrenched his head backwards.

“Aagh! Get off of me!” Casper cried, twisting and turning, trying to stop Dante’s hand from getting closer or even better, spilling the fucking contents of the vial.

“Always so difficult,” Dante sighed, yanking Casper’s head back until he was staring at the sky. Casper grit his teeth to keep from crying out or opening his mouth. Dante leaned over Casper, pressing his forearm across Hero’s forehead, keeping him down and with his freehand he grabbed Casper’s nose and plugged it between his fingers.

Casper’s eyes widened, his struggles renewing as he realised what Dante was doing. Those pale, uncaring eyes stared down at Casper’s, waiting for him to open his mouth.

“You could have done it the easy way, you idiot,” Dante said, watching as Casper went purple from holding his breath. The struggling didn’t help with his lack of oxygen and Casper was afraid he’d burst or pass out and so —

Casper gasped and then the cool liquid was running down his throat. Casper coughed and sputtered, trying to spit it out. Before he could, Dante slammed his palm under Casper’s chin and dug his fingers into Casper’s cheek. Those pale eyes stared down soulless and bored.

“Swallow it, you child.”

Casper tried to twist his head free, but Dante didn’t let him. Dante slammed Casper’s head back again, so he was staring at the sky.

“Oi,” Dante drawled. “Do I have to cut off your oxygen again or are ya gonna behave?”

Casper pulled every ounce of hatred from his body into the glare he shot at Dante, his nostrils flaring but he knew there was only one way that this ended.

Casper swallowed the now warm liquid. “Is it gone?”

“Mmph,” Casper tried to affirm.

Dante tilted his head. “Swallow again.”

Casper obeyed. Satisfied, Dante let go of Casper’s cheeks and stepped away. Casper let his head fall forward, rolling his neck to try and get rid of the creak. Dante stepped to the side of Casper’s chair and snapped his fingers onto his palm in a ‘come here’ gesture that Casper understood to mean give Dante his hands.

Casper leaned forward, coughing slightly. Dante grabbed Casper’s cuffed hands none too gently and Casper heard the satisfying click that signalled his freedom.

Casper coughed again as he brought his hands in front of him, glaring at Monroe as he rubbed his wrists.

“What—” Casper said, cutting himself off with a cough. “What was that, Monroe?”

Monroe’s smile was cruel as he leaned forward in his seat, clasping his hands between his knees. Casper’s throat felt so dry, and swallowing wasn’t doing anything to relieve the scratchiness.

“You remember Colt,” Monroe said.

Casper raised his brows. “Yeah? Vaguely?”

“He works in science, in a lab more specifically. Remember he made those power dampeners that the police love.”

“Yeah, they’re not the only ones,” Casper spat pointedly. His wrists weren’t the only things those stupid cuffs affected. It left Casper’s abilities disoriented afterward, something Monroe no doubt wanted Casper to experience. That off kilter, claustrophobic—

Something lurched in Casper’s chest, as if someone had just hit him from inside with a hammer. Casper’s hand went to his chest, fingers digging into his ribcage.

“Something wrong?” Monroe asked kindly.

“What—?” Casper breathed before another pang hit him and Casper jerked forward, taking in two long, panicked lungfuls of air. Casper got to his feet, needing to get away because something was wrong. Something was so so… wrong.

His vision turned as if Casper was on a waltzers or something and he barely managed to brace himself with his hands before he hit the balcony floor, heaving.

“AGH! Mo— Monr—” Casper cried, screaming as his chest burned, spreading a current of pure pain from his heart around his body. Casper’s strength left him as his body convulsed and felt like it was burning. As if an army of fire ants was crawling under his skin, biting and cutting and burning.

Casper curled into a ball, grabbing his knees and digging his nails into his waist as his breath seemed to falter and stop and he was so hot, his mind blind with pain as stars burst behind his eyes and something was wrong!

Casper shivered, his clothes scratching and uncomfortable as he writhed in pain, loud whimpers and screams torn from his throat as the poison made its way through his veins. That’s all that little vial could be… poison. Monroe… Monroe was going to kill him…

As if reading Casper’s thoughts Monroe stood, pressing his heel into Casper’s shoulder and kicking him onto his back. Casper’s glare was probably teary and ineffective, but he glared up all the same as his energy ebbed and flowed through his body, shivering and almost paralysed.

“Yeah, nerdy Colt. Little genius really,” Monroe said with a casual shrug, crouching so he could get closer to Casper. Casper tried to lift his arm and push him away, but he could barely lift it off the ground. “Well, I asked Colt if he could somehow manufacture an ingestible version of the power dampeners.”

Casper’s eye’s widened in horror, mumbling out incoherent protests as his body spasmed beneath him.

“Oh hush, don’t worry. I don’t want your abilities gone, I just wanted to punish you for disobeying me, Casper,” Monroe said softly. His words anything but soothing. He reached out and brushed some of Casper’s sweat-soaked hair from his forehead and smiled down at him almost tenderly. “The effects are temporary, Colt assured me, maybe two or three days—”

“You’re a bastard,” Casper spat, teeth chattering.

Monroe grinned.

“The effects are temporary, Casper, but I hope the message won’t be,” he said as he moved his hand to Casper’s throat and squeezed. Casper’s body only responded weakly, his arm brushing Monroe’s trying to dislodge it, but Monroe leaned so his breath fanned Casper’s cheek. “And if the message gets lost along the way, well, I had back-ups made in case you need a little reminder every now and then.”

Dark spots crowded the edges of Casper’s vision and for a moment he thought Monroe was going to choke him out.

Dante said something to the side and Monroe raised his brows, intrigued. Then as lazily as he cut off Casper’s oxygen he stood to his full height and grabbed his empty mug off the table. Casper gasped in air, turning on his side as he guzzled in sweet, fresh air into his lungs.

His smile was the same, usual charismatic one he wore when he was trying to imitate a human being. “Wonderful. Well Casper, get up. Duty calls. You can’t just lie around on my balcony all day. I’ll put on the kettle.”

Casper rolled onto his back and stared at the colour-streaked sky, his body spent and his mind racing. All he wanted to do right now was sleep, or die, or kill Monroe and Dante— or all three.

As soon as he got his breath back, he’d do one of him. Maybe. Probably, for now he just stared at the sky.

“Casper!” Monroe called from inside. “If you don’t move in the next ten seconds, I’ll get Dante to administer a second dose.”

Casper held up his middle finger through the window, not caring if Monroe even saw it. Reluctantly Casper sat up and got to his feet slowly, using the furniture to help him up.

He had made up his mind: he was going to kill Monroe…

after coffee.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

[shes-some-other-where]

Leashed, muzzled, and ordered around like a beast

Prompt: “Sit.”

Contains: restraints, chains, gag, collar, humiliation, dehumanization, prison

The prisoner struggled to rise from where he’d fallen. Disgusted, the soldier clambered into the wagon behind him. “Get up.”

Easy for him to say, with his hands and feet free. Resentfully, the prisoner growled into the gag they’d strapped back in his mouth for the journey.

“Sit.” The soldier gestured. “Against the wall. Head down.”

How tired he was of being leashed, muzzled, and ordered around like a beast.

Leashed. An apt comparison, made even more so by the next indignity bestowed on his already-humiliated body: an iron ring, locked around his neck and chained securely to the wall.

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[shywhumpauthor]

The Merry Whump of May—Day 21

“Devil’s advocate”

Tome | Desperation | Hiking Trail

This doesn’t fit the prompt, like, art all but that’s too damn bad

Masterlist

Cw: kidnapping, manhandling/abuse, blood, beating, restraints

Sidekick let out a grunt as the car hit a pothole, their head slamming against the floor of the trunk hard enough to draw tears to their eyes. Pain pulsed like a heartbeat through their skull, stabbing deeper with each labored breath.

Their chest felt tight, unnaturally so, a sharp sting shooting up their side every time they breathed a little too deep, keeping their inhales shallow.

Their hands were secured behind them, two cable zip ties tugged tight enough that they bit into the flesh. Sidekick’s fingertips were beginning to go numb, feeling unnaturally swollen. Their legs bound at the thighs and ankles with a coil of nylon rope, keeping them awkwardly folded behind them. The strain of the position was wearing away at their muscles already, and the rough turns the car kept making wasn’t much help to their bruised body.

With a squeal of the brakes, Sidekick was thrown against the trunk’s interior, their nose smashing against the rugged divide between the boot and the backseat.

Blood began to flow down their face, thick in their throat. With their position, they couldn’t do anything but try to spit it out and not choke to death on the metallic taste.

The bastard was doing it on purpose. They fucking knew it.

They hadn’t been gagged nor blindfold, but that didn’t give them any vantage. The trunk was about the same size they were in their awkward position, if not a bit smaller, leaving them to tuck their chin down or pull their legs up. It was too shallow for them to roll over in, and though they were now practically flush against the inside, they could feel the lid of the trunk not two inches from touching their back.

For the first maybe two minutes into the ride, Sidekick had screamed. They knew that no one would be able to hear their cries for help, not on the road from the inside of an insulated car trunk. More so to annoy their kidnapper, which they had counted as a small success when their assailant turned the car’s radio up so loud Sidekick could feel the bass vibrations.

Superhero would be worried. Sidekick had an evening patrol with them tonight, hell, that must have been hours ago, for how long it’d felt they’ve been driving. First, they’d be mad, probably thinking Sidekick had ditched them. Which was a valid assumption, seeing as it wouldn’t have been the first time they had decided some menial task such as paperwork was more important than watching over empty streets. But then they’d check up on Sidekick’s office at the agency, see they weren’t there. Then they’d go to their apartment, after their three texts and a call went unanswered. After that, Sidekick wasn’t sure what they would do, it had never escalated farther than that. Maybe they’d track Sidekick’s phone, or their watch, and find them smashed in some alleyway dumpster.

After that, they’d probably send an alert to all the heroes connected to the agency, just telling them to keep their eyes out. After two days, they’d probably go searching on their own, cornering villains and conducting some informal… questioning.

The car slammed heavily on the breaks, but this time Sidekick was able to duck their head, preventing them from crashing face-first into the interior of the trunk again. They expected it to accelerate again, but instead they heard the car shift into park, suddenly going quiet as the ignition was twisted off and the radio went out.

Sidekick felt a prick of fear twine through their chest, but paired with it was a heavy sense of anger. The fuck did this asshole want with them?

Then fear overtook them again as they heard a door slam shut. Whoever this was, they’d attacked them from behind. Hit them in the back of the head with some sort of hard beam, roughed them up a good deal, before restraining them and dumping them in the trunk. Sidekick hadn’t managed to catch a glimpse of their face.

What if it was a criminal? What if it was Supervillain? Shit, they’d be as good as damn dead. Awful flashes of torture and gore spun through their mind as they heard the muffled crunch of gravel circle around the car. They’d skin them alive, dissect them piece by piece until there was nothing left but a pile of carnage. Supervillain had done worse, Sidekick knew. They’d worked some of their cases.

But when the trunk flipped open, and Sidekick craned back to look over their shoulder, squinting against the light, they realized it wasn’t Supervillain.

One hand resting on the boot’s lid as they leaned over, teeth glinting sharp, the shadows on their face stoic and intense, as Hero grinned down at them.

———————————————

@themerrywhumpofmay

[its-my-whump]

The Merry Whump of May - Medi Whump May – Day 21

@themerrywhumpofmay: desperation - hiking trail

@mediwhumpmay: field medicine

Annoying conversations ;-), road rash, accident, unconsciousness

"Yeah, let's go hiking together." Peters words were still running through his head. "It'll be fun."

Sam didn't doubt that it could have been fun, but that was before Peter and Emily bailed on him, leaving him to spend the whole damn day alone with Tonya.

She was a nice girl, but he had let himself be talked into a second date from Pete. Oh, he wanted to slap himself for his stupidity.

Now, he had about 8 miles of her undivided attention and unbearable hours of talking without any other distraction, yeah.

Peter was gonna burn for this.

Tonya was really nice and not stupid, but her chosen topics about new shoes or her brothers' gorgeous new boyfriend felt like torture. Exactly the conversations he wanted to have or more endure on his day off. Sam would have preferred to discuss the right temperature for boiling some water instead.

Actually, he would have loved to turn on his heal and make a run for it. After some more information about her grandma's fungus, (he hadn't really listen for quiet some time, so Sam didn't know, if it was a condition, problems with a moist basement or something to eat), he just knew he wouldn't survive this hike, when she kept on talking.

So he welcomed the following steep descent they were about to take. These were the moments, he was looking forward to, when she actually was using her mouth for breathing only.

Out of desperation, the short idea of a little push to her back jumped through his head, when they reached the edge of the cliff. He hushed his own thoughts.

"You wanna go first or shall I?" Sam was surprised by his own steady voice.

"Oh, I go then." He couldn't help himself, her smile was gorgeous nonetheless. 'Maybe, he should asked about that fungus thing again after all...'

"Okay, I follow a few steps behind. So you won't get any gravel on your head."

The first few steps were easy, but the path got steeper. She slipped, fell and slid down a bit. "Ah shit." Tonya hissed, her right hand burning, while she settled on a bigger rock. "You all right?" Sam closed up fast.

He gently took her hand in his own. "Damn." It was dusty, some road rash, little drops of blood were starting to stain brown into red. Sam grabbed for the bottle at the side of her backpack and washed the dirt away. He untied the bandana from his neck and signalled her to move her hand while he dressed her wound. "I'll make a knot now. Say, if it's too tight, okay." He smiled at her reassuring, she hissed. "Anything else? Your legs okay?" She just nodded, having a look on her hand.

Tonya still insisted on leading the way. After some hesitation they made good progress, which let her start talking again. "You know, Kevin just recently brought my brother this marvellous neckless..." Sam instantly zoned out. He didn't care for their relationship, he was just annoyed hearing about happy people or relationships and it kind of made the impression, that she was spreading hints in this direction. That fungus surely had to have been more interesting.'

Neither of them was prepared, when Tonya slipped again. Just out of reflex, she grabbed the first thing that appeared to bring any kind of support. Unfortunately it was Sam's lower leg.

The motion swapped his feet from under him, he unconsciously turned to the side, when she pulled him with. But only after his hands tried to catch his fall and were also slipping on the gravel surface, the side of his head connected with something hard. A last sensation of warm liquid splashing into his face, everything already dark, when the soft skin of his cheek was dragged over rough surface. 'Yeah, let's go hiking together. It'll be fun.' Peters voice rushed briefly through his head.

Tonya's scream was ringing in his ears until it faded into silence when he finally lost consciousness.

TBC (here)

Masterlist

[autobot2001]

Hiking Accident

@mediwhumpmay: field medicine @themerrywhumpofmay: hiking trail

With the issues, the medics have dealt with the past week during boot camp, Jasmine and Jolt decide to join the rookies, though they're more trained. Ratchet chose to stay behind in case soldiers who weren't going on the hike end up injured with the training they're doing. Jasmine and Jolt will join ten rookies and five higher-ranked soldiers. "Hopefully, you two being with them will catch anyone else refusing to eat or aren't staying hydrated before it's critical," Ratchet comments, "what's with this group of rookies?" He sighs. The two medics on the hike hope they are prepared and don't have to deal with serious issues.

Ten soldiers are going on the hike along with the Drill Sargent for the group, who is not liking that two medics are joining the group.

"You're so slow," a soldier complains. "It's called pacing." The others watch the soldier shove the 'slow' soldier. This results in the soldier to lose their footing and they fall down the small hill. "You're lucky we're not on a cliff!" The Drill Sargent scolds. The soldier tries to get up but feels pain. The two medics are worried about the soldier but also not pleased a medical issue has arisen. Seriously what is with these rookies? Jolt questions. "They're not going to be able to continue," the Drill Sargent observes, "the rest of you weaklings follow me!" The other soldiers follow the Drill Sargent.

The soldier who fell doesn't want to be touched or moved onto a stretcher to get to the medical cabin. The medics do need to get ab x-ray of the soldier's ankle and leg, but they need to help with the broken bone for the trip back to the medical cabin, as Ratchet will not be able to reach them in vehicle mode. The medics like the capsules they've been using. This time the method of carrying medical supplies allows them to have fast-acting pain relief via injection. This drug still takes fifteen minutes to kick in, which unfortunately results in the medics hearing the soldier scream in pain, but he won't feel pain when they reach the cabin to get an x-ray and treat the injuries. The soldier slowly feels less pain as Jasmine and Jolt carry the stretcher down the trail. All three aren't liking opening a groundbridge isn't an option.

The two medics are sweaty by the time they reach the cabin. They get a short break while Ratchet checks the soldier's vitals and their file. The soldier doesn't feel pain as he's moved onto the X-ray bed. He's worried about what his injuries will do to his military career.

"Good news is you won't need surgery," Ratchet starts, "but you'll be in q cast for six weeks. Full recovery is going to take three to four months." Ratchet knows the soldier doesn't want to hear this, whether they're a rookie or not. He won't add the possible timeframe for physical therapy before the soldier can get back to training. Lennox is informed, and arrangements are made to get the soldier home.