Whumptober 3 - "Who did this to you?"
CW: referenced kidnaping/captivity, stabbed, blood, implied domestic abuse, referenced threats, wound tending
Caretaker is just about to relax in his bed to watch tv when his ringtone sounds. He groans, setting the remote down in the mound of covers and reaches to grab his phone off the nightstand. The number that shows is one he doesn't have saved and doesn't recognize. Normally, he wouldn't answer, but something inside him convinces him to.
“Hello?” he answers. At first there is no response, just a quiet rustling and heavy breathing into the phone. Caretaker rolls his eyes, must be a stupid prank caller calling him at eleven pm. Just before he hits the end call button though, a raspy voice speaks.
“...Caretaker?” the voice calls, starting meekly before growing slightly louder.
Caretaker's heart misses a beat, breath catching in his throat when he hears it. He couldn't believe it, he can't remember the last time that voice met his ears.
"Whumpee? Is that you?" He asks in disbelief.
There's a second of hesitation before he receives an answer, "Yeah… it's me… Are you busy?"
The speech is slurred and slow. Caretaker can't help the irritation that bubbles up in his core. He hasn't seen Whumpee in almost a year at least, he left with no warning, only a single text, suddenly completely ghosting Caretaker, and now, he's calling him this late, like nothing happened?
"Are you drunk, Whumpee?" Caretaker asks, his annoyance clear in his tone.
"N-no, i'm not drunk…" The answer comes back, still slurred. Caretaker wonders if Whumpee even registers what he asked.
He rolls his eyes, "Then why are you talking like that?" Caretaker asks angrily, his mood completely changed from the serenity of before. Of course he missed Whumpee, but if Whumpee could just throw away their friendship… their relationship… so easily, then Caretaker could feel a little betrayed.
Okay, he feels very betrayed.
"I'm-I'm not... talking like anyth-" Whumpee's words are cut off by a sharp gasp that turns into a low hiss. Caretaker furrows his eyebrows. Something isn't right.
"Are you hurt?"
On the other end of the phone, Whumpee clutches at his side, eyes screwed shut tight. At the question, they blink open, and he glimpses down at his hand. Red slips through his fingers and begins to pool beside him. He breathes in, trying to regulate his heartbeat.
"No."
Caretakers annoyance fades. As much as he wants to stay mad and ask why Whumpee left him, he can't help the concern that takes over.
"Whumpee. I know-- knew you. I can tell somethings up. Where are you?"
Caretaker can hear the pained hesitation even through the phone. It takes nearly a minute for Whumpee to answer.
"Caretaker… I-I need you…" he whispers.
When Whumpee finally coughs up an address, Caretaker is in his car in an instant. He soon arrives at a house, dimly lit from the outside. He grabs his first aid kit from the seat and rushes to the front door, finding it unlocked. He steps in cautiously, calling out for Whumpee.
"I'm in here…" he calls back. The house is almost completely dark. Caretaker follows the voice into the kitchen where he sees a shadowed figure crumpled on the floor. There is a small amount of light coming from the windows, Caretaker uses it to locate the lightswitch on the wall. He flicks it and turns, gasping at the sight.
Whumpee is sitting there, staring blankly at the wall. A large purple bruise rests over his right eye, and dried blood forms a line under one of his nostrils, smudged over his lips and chin. His face is littered with cuts. He's absentmindedly holding onto his side, hand covered in blood.
"Oh my god Whumpee!" Caretaker exclaims, surprised. He didn't know what he expected, but it surely wasn't anything this bad. "We need to get you to a hospital!"
As if coming out of a trance, Whumpees eyes snap open, he almost looks caught off guard by Caretaker himself.
"No, N-no hospital…"
Caretaker finally shakes off his shock, rushing to Whumpee's side, quickly joining him on the floor and fumbling the latches of the first aid kit open. Whumpee gives a delayed flinch, and stares dazed eyes back at Caretaker.
"Whumpee," Caretaker says softly, lightly grabbing his wrist, "I need to see..."
Whumpee bites his lip, and reluctantly loosens his hold, letting Caretaker move his arm away. He pushes up Whumpees shirt, gulping down the lump in his throat, the feeling of nausea he suddenly notices.
Nearly every inch of skin is covered in a menagerie of colour; red, purple, blue, yellow splattered like paint over Whumpees flesh. Then, there's the gash just above Whumpees hip, jagged and gruesome.
"...Who did this to you?" He whispers with a shaking voice, his wide eyes watch carefully as he puts on gloves and begins to clean the wound.
Whumpee wracks through his brain for an answer. There's a name sitting right on his tongue, ready to pass through his teeth like the very breath he breathes. He swallows it though, he knows the hurt that will come from rushed decisions.
Much like the one he's in right now.
"I can't tell you that- ah!" He says, crying out When Caretakers fingers press on sensitive skin.
"-Sorry. Why can't you tell?"
"You don't understand, Caretaker." Whumpee sighs, running a hand through his hair. He wants to relish in Caretakers company. He can't remember the last time he heard his voice, the last time he slept wrapped in his arms, covered in blankets and warm kisses, the last time he truly felt comforted, felt safe. But calling him was a mistake, a rushed decision of panic he shouldn't have made.
"What do you mean? Whumpee, whoever fucking did this is a bad person-"
"You think I don't know that!?" Whumpee yells, accidently jerking the wound, lighting the other bruises on fire along with it. He grabs Caretaker's hand instinctively, squeezIng through the pain. Caretaker lets him.
An old habit.
Whumpee whimpers and closes his eyes, "Im protecting you…"
He lets go of Caretaker's hand to let him finish tending to his wound, looking anywhere but Caretaker's eyes.
"Protecting me..?" Caretaker asks. He tries not to let his emotions hinder his ability to properly help. This situation has torn his soul in two. He doesn't like seeing Whumpee like this.
"I didn't want to leave you," Whumpee whispered. Caretaker finishes bandaging the cut, finally, he gets to look at Whumpee… look at how he's changed.
His hair is a dark brown now, different from his natural dirty blond, and he wears a choker around his neck. Whumpee hates having stuff around his neck, he'd never take a necklace from Caretaker.
Whumpee notices Caretaker looking, and reaches slowly to grab his hand again.
"It's how he likes it…" he murmurs softly, "He threatened to hurt you if I didn't leave you, if I didn't go with him. I shouldn't have called you, I'm putting you in danger." Whumpee says with a shake of his head, tears falling from his eyes.
"I miss you Whumpee… This person is hurting you… I mean look at you! You're their captive!" Caretaker says, tears falling from his own eyes, unable to stop his voice from raising. He doesn't know if he'd rather the truth be that Whumpee didn't like him anymore and just left on his own volition. Anything would be better than this.
"I know. I miss you too," Whumpee responds, his heart breaks into a million more pieces inside his chest. He hates that he has no choice. He doesn't want Caretaker to end up like him; a shell of his former self, broken for someone to control his every move-- his every thought.
"Then who is this 'he,' Whumpee? Let me help you." Caretaker pleads to him with wide open, worried eyes, his voice cracking.
Whumpee looks down at their hands still interlocked, lets himself feel that comfort, even if just for a little while. He knows Whumper will be home soon, and he will not let Caretaker go down with him. So he swallows his wants like he's learned to, clears his throat and stands his ground for the first time in a long time.
"Nobody."
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