#difficult whumpee

[redd956]

Whump Ideas: Competition

Let’s bring some competitiveness into whump. Imagine whumpees being forced to compete, or whumperees whose lives depends on succeeding the other

Like just imagine, or let me help

Multiple whumpers are stuck working underneath the boot of a much more powerful one. They are forced to compete amongst each other, with the looming threat of being whumpees themselves over their heads

A whumper forces multiple whumpees to compete with one other. Maybe its to get whumper’s work done, or just for their amusement. Either way the winner (or loser) gets something that the other doesn’t

Pet Whumpees compete amongst each other to be the best within whumper house. The best receives Whumper’s gentle attention

Whumper forces a few captive whumpees to sing to them. They let the best out for a little.

Whumpee recently discovers that their Whumper has a quota that they didn’t set

Two caretakers competing over whumpee’s trust. Is it for whumpee’s good or something truly else?

Whumper is competing with their “fellows” over who has the best pet whumpee, and is growing overly trick towards them

Whumpees are challenged on who can take whumper’s “treatment” the best. In the end the winner is awards with a well deserved break

Caretakers despised a very difficult whumpee who appeared in their care. Leader made it a competition, and overtime while competing the caretakers came to like whumpee. However whumpee recently discovered the competition

[letitbehurt]

It’s a good day to grab Whumpee by the hair and shove their head underwater.

[chiharuuu22]

Caretaker always smiles. Always and every time. A gentle and calming smile.

Whumpee is happy to see. When Caretaker was joking with the team members, when she was cooking in the kitchen, when she was gardening, when she was looking at Whumpee and the others, In fact, when they were preparing to fight Whumper, Caretaker never lost her smile. A warm smile melts any unpleasant atmosphere.

When they managed to win against Whumper and Whumpee underwent a period of recovery, Caretaker's smile became one of the "medicines" Whumpee needed. The smile that greeted him every morning, the smile when Whumpee succeeded in making progress in his healing, the smile that was expressed when adjusting the position of the blanket, the smile when treating the wounds of Whumpee and the rest of the team—a beautiful smile.

It felt like Caretaker had never been sad, let alone cried.

Ah no.

Whumpee had seen her once, when he was still half-conscious and unable to move. The cry that Caretaker made secretly in the middle of the night. Tears and sobs came out of the mouth of the person who was always smiling while holding Whumpee's hand in prayer.

Whumpee knows that his weak condition makes Caretaker cry and always wants to say that he is much better, so Caretaker doesn't have to cry anymore. However, when he saw Caretaker's smile in the morning, Whumpee thought better of it. Caretaker's smile was too sincere and beautiful to be ruined by crying if Whumpee said what was on his mind.

[the-three-whumpeteers]

It had been a stupid mistake- the whumpee hadn’t even meant to anger the whumper, but no matter how much they begged and tried to explain themselves, the whumper didn’t care. Every night the whumpee blamed themselves for their situation, and could only hope for rescue.

[whumpitisthen]

I think Whumper should punch Whumpee in the throat. For fun.

[whumpshaped]

someone said "the phrase people pleaser implies a choice to be that way, i prefer the term fawn response because it more adequately describes that the person is just desperately seeking safety by the only method they know" and i havent stopped thinking about it

[b0amagination]

fucking obsessed with a chair in the bathroom in a whump scene. the kind that belongs in a dining room or a kitchen.

this chair Does Not Belong Here. something Wrong is happening here. why is so much time being spent in this room that a chair is suddenly so necessary that one would drag it from The Other Room

sitting on the toilet simply would not suffice, no no no. it's CHAIR TIME

[rainbowsandwhumperflies]

The Winged Servant - 2

cws: royal whump, winged whumpee, manipulation, threats of punishment, whumpee is super conditioned, female whumper, male whumpee, lmk if i missed any!

masterlist

I knocked on Her Majesty’s door and entered as soon as I heard “Come in,” careful not to let any of her food get out of place while I held the tray in one hand. Most of it wasn’t difficult, just the grapes—I’d only ever had problems with the grapes, because they were the only food item in Her Majesty’s breakfast that would roll around with any movement. Luckily, everything stayed in place as the tray passed from hand to hand as I closed the door softly behind me.

“You’re late.”

Fuck. Was I late? I hadn’t noticed, but the edges of my memory were fuzzy this morning, it was early, I-

I hadn’t bowed. That was something I was supposed to do every time I was in the presence of Her Majesty. I really was performing horribly this morning. I could fix this. I could fix this. I knew how to fix things like this. “My apologies, Your Majesty,” I told her, dropping to my knees and leaning forward. My wings were sore, but the sooner I perfected my behavior the sooner they would rest, so I pushed them forward and out until I could freeze in the picturesque bow that Her Majesty liked me to be in.

“Don’t mumble to me.”

“My apologies, Your Majesty,” I repeated, enunciating this time. She was right; it was disrespectful not to speak as clearly as possible to her. “I was awoken earlier than I’m used to, but I shouldn’t have taken so long to get here. It won’t happen again.”

“Christ, Onyx, now you’re trying to pin the blame of your incompetence on waking up early? That’s a pathetic excuse, and besides, you’re my servant. You’re supposed to be able to do the things I need you to. Do I need to remind you of that?”

I would not shake. I would not shake, it made me look pathetic and it would make her breakfast move around on the tray. She hated when it did that, and I didn’t think I could stand her being mad at me for another thing right now, no matter how deserved.

“I have places to be,” she told me as she pulled the tray of food out of my hands, and I released the breath I’d been holding. “Do not think that you’re off the hook for this morning, but I don’t have time for this right now. We'll revisit this tonight. Understand?”

I nodded, standing back up. Maybe if I did everything else right today I could get back in her good graces. I’d still have to be punished for being late, of course—that was deserved and I needed it to become better—but I still did hate it when Her Majesty was angry with me.

At least I managed to keep my mouth shut and keep myself from digging myself into deeper holes throughout the rest of the morning. My only job right now was to dress Her Majesty in the red dress that was currently laid on the bed. I breathed shallowly as I laced up the back, trying to keep my stomach from rumbling simply from the smell of her toast as she ate it. She didn’t usually finish the toast, and her scraps were mine as long as no one else walked in, but not if I couldn’t just be good for the rest of the morning.

“I have an important meeting today,” Her Majesty told me as I clasped her necklace from behind her. “You are not to interrupt under any circumstances, unless I call you. My career depends on this. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

She sighed again, turning around to face me. “You’re much more trouble than you’re worth, you know. You’re lucky I take care of you like this, especially on days like today where you barely have to do anything. Just your regular cleaning and cooking.”

“Yes, Your Majesty, I am lucky, I am very grateful, thank you.”

The ghost of a smile played out across her lips. “Good. You should be. Now start cleaning my room, and don’t leave my bed sheets all wrinkly like last time." She swept out of the room, and I was left alone again.

She’d left half of a piece of toast on the breakfast tray, along with almost all of her grapes. Our strawberry jam was running out, but the sugary-sweet taste alone made me practically melt into the floor while I ate the toast.

Her Majesty the queen was fully within her rights to eat every scrap of her breakfast, or to not finish it but not give the scraps to me. That would be fine of her, and I would still be grateful for everything she did for me. I understood that my place as a servant was permanently below her.

God, though. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for a steady supply of the strawberry jam.

taglist: @kaleidoscope-of-thoughts (lmk if you'd like to be added/removed)

[frantic-fuck]

Snakelet - Chapter 2

@augustofwhump Day 2 iv / shock / cry for help

Masterpost

CW: dehumanization, intimate whumper, royal whumper, vampire whumpee, strong pet whump vibes, kidnapping

You've heard of hurt/comfort, now let's give it up for comfort/hurt! :D

~

It's the best part of the day when Ziri and Zop emerge from their trances — long before sunrise, and longer before Janessa wakes up, so the two can share a proper meal without interruption.

"Ah-ah," Zop puts a hand on Ziri's shoulder as he starts to enter the kitchen. "I got it. You sit down, and I'll bring it to you, alright?"

With a grateful nod, he takes a seat on the denim couch, pain shooting through his sides regardless of how careful he tries to be.

Zop gets to work pouring a denim glass of blue blood from a denim pitcher, then prepares themself a denim bowl of denim cereal and denim milk. They resist the urge to plop down into the sofa, instead sitting gently to avoid bouncing their poor brother around, and they hand him his glass before angrily digging into their own meal.

"That bitch is lucky I can't get my claws on her. YET."

"At least it was an accident. For whatever that's worth." He tiredly rolls his eyes and takes a sip of blood.

"It's worth fuckin' nothin'. I don't give a shit if it was on purpose, I give a shit that she broke your damn ribs!" They furrow their brow, a spark in their eyes. "If I didn't know better... I'd think she's gettin' more careless havin' you out there."

"...She doesn't get careless."

"Whaddya call last night, then?"

He takes a longer drink, looking at the ground. "She just... got a little angry, that's all."

"Angry enough to forget she was holdin' you, hm?"

"We can't count on her slipping up again, Zop. If anything, she'll be on the lookout for mistakes more now than ever."

"Come on, Keys. If she slipped once, it's worth thinkin' up a plan just in case it happens again, right? Just.. just for fun?"

Ziri returns Zop's pleading look with one of shame.

"...Maybe later. I'm kinda distracted by, y'know," he gestures to his side. "Taking a lot out of me."

Zop sighs sadly. "Aye. You should focus on restin' as best as you can right now."

"Thanks."

"'Course. You gonna try healing some more before or after?"

"After. I don't want to use up all my magic right now, just in case it... happens... again." He groans and buries his face in his hands, his voice strained. "I know. I know. Don't say it."

Zop doesn't have to read the flowers on his horns to pick up on his distress. They wordlessly open their arms, and he all but collapses into them with a shuddery sob. They wrap him in a secure, but gentle, hug.

"Shh, shh, shh. I'm here. It's gonna be alright."

They spend the next few hours like that, the sogginess of Zop's shitty cereal mattering far less to them than comforting Ziri. Upon hearing the telltale sounds of Janessa getting out of bed, he curls further into them with a whimper.

"I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't do it anymore."

They catch themself before offering the alternative. Even if they're trying to be selfless, the very thought of it just stresses him out more.

"This is the last day of the week she's seeing subjects, right? You just have to make it through today, and you'll have more time to recover."

Ziri gives them a look.

"...As much time as she gives you on normal days, anyway. Which is usually more."

With an exhausted sigh, Ziri slowly pushes away from Zop. "I should get ready."

"Do you need help?"

"Please."

He gestures to the crumpled denim on the floor that's marginally less uncomfortable than the others, and Zop fetches it as he undresses. A growl escapes him when they bring the demeaning outfit to him.

"This won't last forever. We'll get out of here. I promise." They offer him a small smile. "Even if we don't figure out a faster plan, we're on course to shatter this place in, what, a century?"

"Two, at this rate. Maybe three."

"Sooner than eternity, aye?"

"...Aye." He returns a weak smile of his own, takes a deep breath, and sticks out his arm for Zop. Once they've finished dressing him, he leans his head against their chest, and they wrap their arms around him once more, the two clinging to each other until he vanishes from the gem.

The first thing Ziri hears upon being summoned before Janessa is a scoff.

"Fucking.. crybaby. It can't hurt that badly. I know you can heal yourself."

He bows his head. "Forgive me, m'lady. I can only manage so much."

"Whatever. Here." She tosses a bottle at him, and he scrambles to catch it. "Drink up."

"Yes, m'lady." He downs the bottle as quickly as he can, hoping to get whatever unpleasant effects are in store for him as soon as possible, but... the only effect seems to be a substantial decrease in pain. He gives her a questioning look.

"Don't get used to it. It'd just be annoying if you were compromised as the result of an accident. We're going to move on and forget this ever happened, understood?"

He stifles the indignant laugh threatening to claw out of his throat. She can't honestly believe it's that easy.

"Of course, m'lady."

"Good boy. Now shift."

"...Yes, m'lady."

Ziri closes his eyes and lets out a weary sigh, forcibly willing himself to turn into a snake. The helplessness that comes with the form — the size, the lack of limbs — is enough to send him into a panic by now, even before Janessa reaches towards him. At least snakes can't cry.

Surprisingly, she doesn't grab him as usual. Her hand stops in front of his face.

"Arm."

Confused, he slithers onto her arm obediently. She hurriedly answers his unasked question.

"I just figured it'd be funnier to make you do it yourself since you hate being near me."

She doesn't look very amused...

...Is the one and only Empress Janessa Vurbone feeling remorse? For Ziri?

"Open."

She places a tablet on his tongue that melts into the most unpleasant blood he's ever experienced, and chuckles as he writhes in pain.

There goes that.

Regardless of her efforts to compensate by giving him far more bad "treats" than usual throughout the day, though, he still can't help but notice the uncharacteristic caution she handles him with. Not only does she hold him more loosely, but when she gets even mildly frustrated, she coincidentally has him perform a trick that keeps him out of her hands.

Gods, he wishes he could see what the actual fuck is going on in that head of hers.

As is, he can barely keep track of what's in his own, the layers of various pain and discomfort working together to turn his brain into soup. (Metaphorically, he hopes.) He tries to ground himself by paying a little more attention to his surroundings.

There's two — no, three — visitors, it seems. A large, burly elf, who seems to be in heated conversation with Janessa, a more slender elf standing by, and a pixie sitting on the slender elf's shoulder.

Is all that blood getting to his head, or does that pixie look familiar?

...Why are they looking at him like that?

Just as he starts to wonder if he should give Janessa a heads-up, the conversation shifts into a full-blown argument, even more intense than yesterday's. Janessa grits her teeth and pulls out a good treat, the glorious smell overriding whatever was going through his muddled mind, and lobs it across the room.

"Fetch."

He readily slithers towards it as fast as he can, savoring the blissful taste making everything just a little better.

His ecstasy is short-lived, however, interrupted by a firm hand around his sore abdomen. The slender elf towering above him wears an unsettling grin as they open their bag.

Too terrified to think, he telepathically screams to Janessa,

"M'LADY!"

She whips her head towards him, her eyes wider than he's ever seen them.

"Z—"

Her response is cut off the moment the bag closes over his head, leaving Ziri in a dark, empty void.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT. He is FUCKED. He's going to be in so much trouble for running off. Fuck, this isn't good. And that's assuming these strangers have mean well. If they don't...

The elf's wicked smile flashes in his mind. His breathing quickens.

"Empress Vurbone!"

The one time he wants to hear her horrid voice in his head, it's deafeningly silent.

Is the connection cut off? Just like that?

He shifts back into a satyr and hugs his knees to his chest. More to himself than anyone else, he quietly tries one last time.

"Janessa?"

[oopsiwhumpeditagain]

whumpee who ends up having to care for caretaker because they go through something and it being difficult for both of them. whumpee just wants to go to a time before either of them were hurt.

[lumpywhump]

Hidden Scars: Chapter 1 - Kane's

heyyyy! This is like really short but I wanted to get it out soon and like this was a really good place to stop. At the end I'm just gonna have some stuff about Kane to make up for this being short, enjoyyyyy!

Cw: Whump, injuries, mention of restraints, imprisoned. (Let me know if I missed any)

The prisoner cracked open his eyes. He could feel the crust sticking to the corners. He idly stared at the concrete ceiling in front of him before sitting up. The whole room was just gray, cracked concrete. He must have woken up late because breakfast was already left on the floor. "Oatmeal," Kane grimaced, "how tasty." He dragged himself to the bowl. He was no longer chained so the servants were no longer required to put the food within arms reach. He stirred the soggy mess and took a bite. Eating out of need was his only motivation. It was redundant. Scoop, bite, scoop, bite, scoop, bite. Kane looked up at the water damaged corner. Something green was growing on it and made the air musty. Kane just took what he could get. It had been so long since the boy had seen a plant, he had almost forgotten what they looked like. He leaned back against the wall and looked at the door, longing for it to release him. Something was wrong. The door was left cracked open. Kane knew there was no way someone would have left it open on accident. It must be a trap, right? Still, the boy rose on aching legs. It was probably a test. His captor probably wants to know what he would do. And yet, Kane gently pulled the door open. No one was waiting for him in the stone hall. Kane glanced at the cameras on the wall. No doubt someone was watching him. That means the boy had to get out of there quick. He ran up the stairs to the left. He knew he was underground so the only way out is up. Kane passed a landing and froze. On the wall was a fire exit map. That was convenient. The boy followed the colored line with his finger. He had to go up two more flights and there should be a door that leads directly to the outside. His legs were already tired by the time he got to the door. He pressed the door open, praying to any and every god that an alarm wouldn't blare. The only sound was the door creaking. Kane took in the view of the garden. Shrubs and flowers lined the stone pathways. There were stunning statues dotted around. He had been outside before, but always blindfolded. Kane took a step, expecting someone to call after him. When everything remained silent, he took another step, and another, and another until he was at a side door to the gate lining the garden. There wasn't any guards there. He must have caught them in between shifts. He had heard guards out here before. Kane passed through the surprisingly unlocked door and ran. The little prinxe pushed himself as fast as he could go. Wheezing in each breath as fast as he could. He could feel the squeaking in his lungs. He ignored it. He had to focus on his feet. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. Le— a blinding white pain scorched through his foot. Before they were able to see what happened, his back hit the grass and he began rolling. He kept rolling and rolling, taking in a mouthful of grass and dirt with every turn. His hip clipped a rock and he finally hit flat ground. Kane opened his eyes, squinted at the high noon sun. A head blocked the light from his eyes. "Hey, are you okay?"

Random stuff about Kane!

he/they

Siblings in age order: Jenni, (this is where Kane is), Mila, Kon, Leam, Chime, Dorre

Kane has had a hidden relationship with Basil for years. He never told his parents bc they wouldn't be cool with it. (Basil's family treats Kane like their own)

fun fact! His mom isn't his bio mom. His siblings aren't related to her either and none of them have the same bio mom (except for Kon and Leam bc they're twins)

here's the next one:

Lmao I can not figure out how to do the thing where you click on the word... so this is what you get

[letitbehurt]

Whumper forcing Whumpee to get drunk.

[whumpflash]

cw: slavery, violence, adult language, emeto mention

previous ///// masterlist ///// next

×××

Judd did fall asleep before long.

Getting up in that state—head spinning, body wracked with nausea, and hands bound to boot—was next to impossible. So he stayed down. Let the blackness roll over him in the hopes that he'd wake with a clearer head.

But it wasn't dawn that brought him back to awareness, or even the chill that came with night. It was the feeling of a boot nudging his side. It was voices.

"Think he's alive. Guess this raid wasn't worthless after all."

"Fuck's he doing out here anyway?"

"Beats me. Pissed off the wrong guy by the looks of it."

Judd forced his eyes open. Two orange circles hovered over him, dully glowing against a black sky. Night vision goggles.

"Help me grab him and we'll get out of here," said the voice directly over him.

Grab him?

"Shit…" Judd croaked, trying to lift his head and immediately regretting it as he was hit with a fresh wave of dizziness.

"Damn, he's awake," said the other voice. Somewhere behind him. Male.

"He's not going anywhere," Goggles replied casually. As if to punctuate the statement, she kicked Judd in the stomach, driving the air from his lungs and compounding the overall shitty feeling.

He lifted himself as best as he could, and emptied his stomach right onto the woman's boots. 

It was mostly wine.

"Fuck!" she yelped, dancing away only to come back a second later with more kicks, short, sharp, and angry. Judd did his best to protect his stomach with his legs until the blows stopped.

"Is he fucking drunk?" her companion said, disgust in his voice.

"Who cares? Grab him. This better be worth it."

"It'll wash off, Rika."

"I don't give a shit!" She knelt, grabbed Judd's chin between two fingers, and forced him to look up.

"Do that again and you'll really be sorry."

"Didn't fucking try to, but you're making me wish I had," he cut back, and she shoved him away.

"Got a mouth on him too. We'll have to train that outta you."

It wasn't until she said it that everything clicked. The pair weren't fellow scavs, here to rob him blind and leave him. They were slavers.

He muttered a curse under his breath, but Rika ignored him, grabbing onto his forearm and hauling him roughly to his feet.

Judd swayed, struggling to not be sick again as he stared into the darkness, willing his eyes to adjust. Far in the distance he could see the muted glow of the camp. If he had to run blind, at least he had a direction.

He didn't hesitate. As soon as Rika turned to say something else to her partner, Judd broke free and ran.

It was a moonless night, too dark to see even a yard in front of him, but he didn't let that stand in his way.

He ignored how sick he felt, ignored the pounding in his head, ignored everything but the thought of what would happen if he stopped.

Judd wasn't about to lose his fucking freedom over a mistake.

'I'm not your enemy,' Skye had said. Yeah fucking right. Was this part of his plan? Leave Judd all trussed up and incapacitated for his slaver buddies?

He heard the man yell behind him—way too close for comfort—and pushed himself to go faster.

Any other time he'd be outmatched. Dehydrated, bound, unable to see. But running for your life gave you a kind of edge.

Camp was a few miles out, but he had friends there. Trading partners. All he had to do was get within shouting distance and he could get help.

If it weren't for the fucking acacia, he might've actually gotten away.

It was a tiny thing, barely knee high. It should've crumbled as soon as he came into contact with it, but Judd was the one to fall.

Without his arms free to stop him, he hit the ground hard enough to bruise.

The pair of slavers were on him in an instant, the man pinning him to the ground while Rika tied his legs together. She gagged him too, adding insult to injury.

"Try that again. I fucking dare you," she spat. The man threw him over his shoulder, and it took all of Judd's willpower to not be sick.

They made the trek back to the pair's landspeeders, slinging Judd across the back of one of them like a piece of cargo.

He'd blown his chance to run. Short of flinging himself off a moving speeder, there was no escape, and all that would do was break a few bones.

There would be more opportunities, right? He'd find one. He'd find a way. The alternative—spending the rest of his life a captive, bought and sold and forced to do who-knows-what—was unbearable to think about.

He'd find a way. He'd break free. Fight off the rest of the slavers once his head cleared, kill them all if he had to.

They'd made a mistake taking him. Judd was a fucking fighter.

It wouldn't be long before they learned that firsthand.

×××

[whumpasaurus101]

Welcome to lil lee having the time of his life with puddles!

This is why aki and alien are late to the places they need to be because lee insists he has to jump in every puddle he can! He will also try to splash them both but…look at him…I don’t think he’d do great-

@whump-queen @unorganisedalienrubbish

[royalwhumpness]

Van Helsing - S03-E06

[splendidissimus]

September 1998 - Time Alone

((Content warning: depression, isolation, caretaker failure))

((Promptspiration: @whumptober 2023: day 3: Solitary Confinement ))

Genre: angst

Romance level: none

Angst level: 5/5

Draco's headspace: depressed / isolated

((words: ~700))

------------------------------------

From the beginning of the school term when Theo went back to Hogwarts, Draco was alone. He wasn't actually alone, of course — not technically. He had his mother, and of course he was still infinitely grateful for that. But it wasn't like she was someone he could actually talk to. He wasn't a little pre-school kid anymore who could follow her around blathering and making a nuisance of himself just because he wanted to be near her.

Now that she was relaxing a little about his health and trusted him to be out of her sight, she checked on him in the mid-mornings when she woke; he tried to force himself to maintain a reasonable schedule so that he was always presentable by then, but it slipped so that she would occasionally be waking him out of his dreams. Maybe they'd have breakfast together. After that, maybe they would cross paths once or twice. Then she'd check on him before she turned in for the night.

On Sundays, they ate dinner together, as was tradition, although it felt empty without his father there and uncomfortable around the table where they had gathered as Death Eaters. 

He was left to his own devices otherwise. Sometimes he spent mornings brewing potions he'd need, but there wasn't much he needed that he didn't already have and it was mindless, empty work that served only to keep his hands busy and fill time; other than that, he felt like a ghost wandering the manor. A restless spirit that passed through the world without having any effect on it. 

Nothing gave him anything to hold onto. His mind couldn't really focus on anything; it all seemed so small and distant. He'd sit for a while in the library, trying to keep his mind occupied, reading the same page of a book for an hour. He'd retire to his room or the drawing room with his school books and come away with half a page of notes for the day. He'd try to make attempts at simple spells without his wand that accomplished nothing and didn't even feel like using magic at all. 

A lot of his time he'd just end up in either the parlour window or the second floor landing, looking out at the gardens, not doing anything, not pretending to do anything — just looking at the world on the other side of the glass, where he couldn't even actually smell the flowers or hear the fountains or catch sight of the remaining peacock.

For a while, he'd take to spending his time in the drawing room so he would be around when she came and went, and she had a habit of touching his hair on her way past when she found him there, which he found reassuring in a way that simultaneously made him feel small for needing it. Occasionally, she would sit in there with him, reading or writing correspondence. He didn't know what she was doing; he supposed he could have asked. He could have done a lot of things. He could have asked about her and Father. He could have tried to tell her something — anything. He could have tried to just talk to her. But he didn't know how, and the more he didn't talk, the larger the words became, and the more he stayed silent. 

Either his mother started spending more time there, sitting with him quietly, or he became more aware of it. Over time, how much better it made him feel was more and more overshadowed by how much worse it made him feel to be making her do that. He didn't want her to have to, he didn't want to take her attention from what she needed or wanted to be doing, he shouldn't be making her worry, he shouldn't even be seen…

He managed to apologise, once, apropos of nothing. She asked what for, but he couldn't find the words, and she let it go.

Eventually even the polite small talk of "Good morning"s dried up; he'd answer questions, but the words for anything else were beyond his reach.