#and we can get into

[hold-him-down]

Belleview Chapter Two (Part C): River

Notes: mostly low-level med whump

Belleview: Chapter 1, Chapter 2 (Part A), Chapter 2 (Part B)

TW: Institutionalized slavery, Med Whump, Med Exam, References to Noncon, Noncon touch, Dubcon Medical Care, References to Human Experimentation

✥ ✥ ✥

River London proves, immediately, to be more of a challenge. 

River, in nearly poetic contrast to Felix, has been described as being filled with fiery hatred and anger and, reportedly, does little to hide this. Lincoln has prepared himself for the worst, but has his doubts about what he will find.

Still, it takes Lincoln a fair amount of hyping himself up before he pushes the door open, and when he does, he is met not by the enraged, violent man described over and over and over on paper, but a pale, skinny boy who doesn’t even acknowledge his presence, much less attack.

River sits on the floor, curled into the corner, his head resting against the tiled wall. His room is devoid of any items at all. Lincoln recalls accounts of daily disciplinary measures that have been taken over the past couple years, including the removal of his bed, his clothes, the bedside table, and all objects that can be used to act in defiance of the handlers. 

River’s file was… different, from anything Lincoln had expected to see in a place like this. Considered hostile by all the former handlers and medical staff at Belleview, River had made something of a name for himself in his persistent and unyielding defiance. Over and over, there were notes of aggression, there were incident reports, there were handlers with broken bones, with cuts or scrapes or bites. They were specific in their approach to River, using precautions in all interactions with him. Lincoln had read through the disciplinary notes and a slew of other documents warily, his stomach dropping further with each new file, and ultimately accepted that the likelihood of River being cooperative was slim. 

River’s arms are wrapped tightly around his legs, and Lincoln takes a moment to orient himself to as much of River’s physical condition as he can from this distance. River, like the rest of them, appears to be considerably underweight. He has fewer visible scars on his back, but there is bruising that peeks out from under the collar. His breaths are even enough, maybe a little shallow. He shifts, burying his head into the space between his knees and covers his ears. Alright, then.

Lincoln clears his throat but keeps his distance and crouches down to eye level. He stays aware of his exit because, while River doesn’t necessarily incite fear in his current state, his history of assaulting handlers has given Lincoln a healthy sense of caution. 

“River?” Lincoln tries. There is no response. “I’m Lincoln. Prescott,” he continues. The only obvious sign that he is being heard at all is River, not subtly, pressing the heels of his hands into his ears. So he launches into his speech, watching for any obvious signs of distress, although he finds none.

Clinically, River is in a much better position than Felix was, but Lincoln feels ill-prepared to address River’s condition. He swallows and stands, setting his phone, his keys, the tablet and folder on the floor by the door before making a slow approach. He has prepared himself for, at worst, aggression, but at the very best, a verbal undressing. He has a three-point list for today, and does not intend to push River beyond what he can handle. Step one is… to the extent that he can complete it, completed. Introduce himself. Get the information to River.

Step two: Get the collar off of him.

Lincoln points to his neck and says, as neutrally as he can, “Can I take the collar off?” 

River doesn’t respond, but he pulls his knees in tighter and lifts his head, his gaze burning into the wall. Once within arm’s reach of him, Lincoln sits back on his heels, showing River his hands.

“The clip has already been deactivated,” he says softly. “It is not anyone’s intent, nor is it legal, to reactivate it.” He notices a muscle in River’s jaw tighten but, given that River has been fairly passive so far, he continues carefully. “I need to find the physical release mechanism,” he explains as he points to River’s neck. “It’s located, I believe, on the opposite side as the… as the metal plates. I was asked to master this skill, if nothing else, over the last few weeks. It takes a little bit of finessing, but I promise it won’t hurt.” River does not outwardly acknowledge Lincoln has spoken, but his body language is as clear as it can be - he’s not comfortable with this, he does not want Lincoln near him. “I’ll go as quickly as I can,” Lincoln says, “but I will need to touch your neck, okay?”

River, unsurprisingly, does not offer an opinion one way or another, so Lincoln leans forward, keeping his movements as obvious as he can. The moment he’s within reach, though, River jerks away. 

“It’s alright,” Lincoln says. “I’m going to take it off. Then we’ll talk through what’s next.” In an instant, River goes rigid as he curls up tighter, and he holds his breath. In hindsight, Lincoln can see where he went wrong, but his focus is singularly on having any type of success with River that he doesn’t clock what’s about to happen until it’s too late. River does not look as Lincoln’s fingers experimentally brush against his skin, but he also does not immediately pull away. This close, Lincoln can feel the barely-contained tension in River’s muscles. He moves quickly to find the release, but not quickly enough, and within a split second, River throws his elbow back into Lincoln’s stomach with considerable force. The impact is both painful and unexpected, and, with murder in his eyes, River scrambles as far away as the small space will allow. 

It takes Lincoln a moment to catch his breath, and another to assess if he’s broken anything, but he hasn’t, and so he turns his attention back to River.

River’s hands move to his neck, partly cradling it and partly grasping the collar, and he’s about as small as he can get. He’s prepared for retaliation, steeling himself against the inevitable shock that he knows is coming.

“Ow,” Lincoln says as he rights himself. 

He takes a deep, experimental breath, and second guesses whether River did, in fact, break something, before he notices that River is… the anger is still there, but it’s overshadowed by how tightly he grips onto the band of the collar.

“Okay,” Lincoln says. “I may have had that coming.” He takes another breath, which aches less than the first, a good sign. “You can try it yourself?” He takes a step back. “There’s a small plastic piece at the back that you can push up, which will expose the connection point. If you push in on the raised side while sliding it down and to the left, it should free itself, okay?” 

Lincoln isn’t certain where his biggest error was, but from there, his three-point list goes up in flames. In an effort to reduce the likelihood of additional altercations, he doesn't immediately re-engage River, but rather keeps a distance, affording River enough personal space that he, god willing, does not feel threatened. For his part, River remains openly, but with a respectable stability, hostile. There's no chance that Lincoln will have success at getting his vitals, because that involves touching him, and it's been made, rather painfully, clear that that is currently off the table.

While it’s very clear that River is suffering, short of calling in support to restrain him so that Lincoln can get closer, there is no chance of Lincoln identifying the specific sources of that suffering beyond using his imagination (which, by Lincoln's own calculations, has already had more than enough play).

He tries his hand at questioning River from afar, and when that doesn’t work, he regroups again, and tries to just talk through the new circumstances.

He’s met with a soft but venomous, “Go fuck yourself,” when he tells him, eventually, that he only wants to help.

Lincoln spends nearly an hour with River, pushing him as much as he can, which is, unfortunately, not particularly far. Objectively, he admits that he may in fact have lost ground over the last hour. He certainly hasn't gained any. He changes his tactic once more, and, accepting for River’s refusal to cooperate, he settles into the far corner of River's room and leans against the wall, resigned by the fact that this has gone about as poorly as it could have gone, short of any serious bodily injury.

A soft knocking draws his attention away.

“We’re done triaging,” one of the volunteers– Doug Richmond, Lincoln corrects himself– says. “Dr. Francis asked me to find you.” Lincoln nods and stands, careful as he makes his way to the door to give River a wide berth.

Lincoln pauses near the exit and turns back. “Please try to eat,” he says gently. “We’ll have a bed ready for you in the next hour or so. You have free access to the bathroom if you’d like to take a shower. Volunteers will be in and out today getting you anything you need. Please,” he whispers. “River.”

At the mention of his name, River flinches, but his gaze doesn’t shift from the floor. 

“If you need anything, let me, or any of the volunteers, know, and you will have it.” Lincoln straightens his back, inhaling a slow, deep breath. “I just,” he starts, but falters, searching for the right words. The blame here, he knows, lies squarely on the shoulders of the people who have hurt him. There are no right words. Nothing makes this better. They can only move forward, in baby steps, and hope that it’s enough. “I just want to make sure you’re not in any pain.” His voice is low, but he knows that River hears him. “Anything beyond that, we can deal with when you are ready. If you are in any pain,” he says, the memory of River’s file feeling fresher by the minute. “Just… if you let me know, I can help. You do not need to suffer through this.”

River turns his head toward Lincoln, dark eyes burning with anger. He opens his mouth, and Lincoln thinks he might tell him anything, but instead, he whispers, “Leave me alone,” and buries his head once more.

Lincoln nods and makes a quiet exit, but leaves the door ajar. 

To Richmond, he says softly, “Get him set up with water and a few food options. If he'll let you, please get him a bed. If not, leave it alone for now. If he indicates he needs anything else, come find me.” He pauses, and they both stare at the half-open door. “Give him space, though,” Lincoln continues, his voice as low as he can make it. “He has a history of aggression toward handlers, and I don’t doubt he will apply the same strategies to us if threatened. He doesn’t need to speak or eat or get dressed or shower. The collar can stay on. Just try to…"

It is difficult to convey how deeply protective Lincoln suddenly feels of this boy who he has known for all of an hour and who, by all metrics, loathes him, while also not coming off as a completely sanctimonious prick. "Just be careful with him,” he finishes lamely, before glancing back at the door.

He knows this team, selected specifically for their ability to handle this, will approach River cautiously and will not back him into corners and will, ultimately, put his comfort above anything else. But still, as he forcibly turns away and walks down the corridor, he cannot shake the feeling of increasing sadness that winds its way through him.

✥ ✥ ✥

Belleview Taglist:

@pigeonwhumps @peachy-panic @whump-cravings @pirefyrelight @i-eat-worlds

@taterswhump @squishablesunbeam @inpainandsuffering @distinctlywhumpthing @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@handsinmotion @whumps-and-bumps @pumpkin-spice-whump @alexmundaythrufriday @itsawhumpsideblog

[cordspaghetti]

really factual recounting with no embellishments whatsoever

[beebfreeb]

Messaging people for the first time is so hard. What am I supposed to say? Like, "You seem really odd and your blog intrigues me. Do you want to have philosophical conversations or perhaps talk about fictional characters?" What! Whatever. I will just follow you back and stare at your blog with my big beautiful brown eyes.

[muffinlance]

My baby daughter got her adorable puffin-print dress absolutely CAKED in mud crawling around the yard and my first thought was "oh no her beautiful dress"

And my second thought was "oh huh it really WOULD be easy to unconsciously steer her away from playing in the dirt. Unlike my son, whose outfits are usually some kind of solid dark easily washed pants plus a shirt that doesn't trail in the dirt like a dress does."

Anyway something something gender roles start getting shoved on kids from literal birth, but with a little time to think about things, YOU TOO can let your children of any gender absolutely destroy their clothes in the dirt pit they're digging in your garden

[yakityyaku]

very funny (irritating) to me that everyone whined and yelled about stupid rainbow capitalism and how performative wokeness/allyship is a net bad we should all refuse to support and now like.

tumblr is doing nothing for pride and target isn't selling much (if any) of their pride collection offline except at certain stores (in democratic areas, basically) and build a bear has a much tinier collection than normal and all the actual pride stuff is on their "adult" website (not sure if it's in stores, but pride = adult is a hell of a message)

there are genuinely good criticisms for performative allyship in all its applications. it shouldn't be the only thing we expect from people and companies. but if all the shit I see being called performative stopped tomorrow then in terms of the LGBTQ+ community especially we just. wouldn't talk about queerness or queer issues or celebrate pride or do anything.

open your fucking eyes. we are very close politically to having gay marriage rolled back. now companies are basically being let off the hook to even make a miniscule effort (which matters to the people who don't have access to any other kind of support in their communities! which normalizes the community in public spaces!) because the only reaction they have gotten over the last few years are negative ones from BOTH sides.

we are so entrenched in discourse at all times for the sake of our OWN performance of who is the wokest and who is REALLY an ally or a good community member that we have basically handed over all the work of activists of the last several decades to the other side because we'd rather scream at each other over fucking chicken restaurants and shit than the real life backsliding that's happening.

and this goes for other shit too. feminism, poc rights, all of it.

also. trans rights aren't discourse and aren't just culture war arguments. in case any terfs think they can spin this to be antitrans.

[vintageseawitch]

i'm a huge fan of Republicans, conservatives or however you want to be politically labeled choosing country over party. please let me see more stories. it's a brave thing to do this. even if you voted for him in both 2016 & 2020 but you changed your mind now, WELCOME. it's a massive deal to get out of any cult successfully & MAGA is no different. being filled with anger & hatred, & fear is intoxicating & honestly easier than choosing to do the right thing. i'm glad you saw the light.

check your registration status often & don't stop talking about Project 2025. they can pretend they're distancing themselves from it as much as they want but it's absolutely their policy. we can do this though if we just show up & VOTE. we got this 💙

[buttercuparry]

Reblog the fundraisers you mfs!!!!! I don't know why you all skip those to reblog some pic of a banner saying "FREE PALESTINE" or of news from Columbia University! Literally these people from Gaza have made an account on Tumblr and is writing in english to communicate what they need and you all are coming onto my blog or on the tag and not reblogging their posts. We have people both Palestinian and non Palestinian vetting the fundraisers! I mean more the reblogs, more the chance of the fundraisers gaining momemtum, the more there would be a chance of a donation. Please donate if you can and reblog!!! and follow them if it is possible.

@/mohammedayesh has posted about getting leaflets, telling them to evacuate Rafah. They are very low on funds. Go follow them and reblog their posts and donate if possible.

We have @/haneenatya too whose mother is suffering from eye stroke and need to evacuate. Please I have been following them for some days and it doesn't seem their own posts are getting much attention.

Follow them! They are on tumblr. Reblog their posts and donate. The protests in universities are being done on account of them. They should be our focus.

(EDIT: on re-reading my post it seems as if I am dismissing all that the students of universities are doing. I am not. I just meant, since all of it is to help Palestinians, we must not ignore them when they ask for help).

[birbyarts]

papyrus and undyne sketch from a while back 🐟🦴

(context: they went to a metal concert on the surface and every single human in their vicinity tried to get their number)

also i made an alignment chart for the bestie duos of ut and dr. because why not. i miss them

[meonlyred]

22 years later and the Crows are still cringing over Zevran. Truly the man of all time.

[normal-thoughts-official]

donated 50 reais to a palestinian GFM today

it amounted to 8 dollars

several days' worth of expenses for me became a single digit donation for them. barely enough for a blanket. just like that

it really sucks to know that my money is inherently less helpful no matter how much it'd pay for me, and there's nothing i can do

[firephoenix23]

Like I literally have second hand embarrassment for Vox after seeing what Alastor ACTUALLY is like in a rivalry.

Like homie wishes he could be that close to Alastor 😂😂

[nenoname]

Stan Pines' drawings

Plus a Stan drawing of debatable canonicity but I love his signature being a dollar sign

[fckbatmanhiskidsareminenow]

batfam meets the JL but it’s just the bat kids breaking into the watch tower during a debriefing or meeting to ask bruce the most mundane questions. they go about it like they’re interns that need to speak to the CEO during a board meeting. they walk over waving their hands and mouthing “i’m so sorry just need to ask batman something 😬” and then they lean over to bruce and ask something like “alfred wants to know if you’re gonna be home for dinner” and then they dip.

one of them started this when bruce didn’t answer their texts (it was probably tim or something) and now everyone does it.

[blueskittlesart]

sharing mana