#touch starved caretaker

[martyr-inthedark]

There's just something so cathartic about a Whumpee who collapses into someone's arms, clinging to them as if this is their last chance at comfort.

I love a Whumpee who are just so worn down that all they can do is lay in someone's lap, sobbing at the warmth, even if it is just Whumper's lap.

A Whumpee whose chin fits perfectly in the crook of Caretaker's neck as they struggle to stay upright on shaking legs is exactly where it's at.

Perhaps Whumpee needs a weighted blanket or one of those heatable stuffed animals to sleep without nightmares.

[whumper-cars]

A Whumpee who is so touch starved that they start crying from relief when Caretaker combs a gentle hand through their hair. The first hug sends them bawling.

Feel free to add onto any of my prompts!

[whumpberry-cookie]

The character who never initiates phisical affection and is very reserved with their words.

But if someone else hugs them or pets their cheek, they just silently lean into it.

[belovedwhump]

Beloved Whump Prompt #13

After having been locked up and isolated for so long, Whumpee is extremely touch-starved and craves contact, but they don't know how to ask for it.

Caretaker meanwhile long to hold Whumpee, to feel them safe in their arms, but keep their distance because they're afraid of hurting Whumpee.

[sugarsweetwriter]

┇(Cult) Whump Recovery… (Whumper is referred to as The Leader/God)

"Do you remember what you were like before?" Caretaker asked gently. Too gently—and Whumpee hated it. Whumpee absolutely despised the softness, the kindness they always held in their voice as the sweetly coaxed Whumpee's secrets out of them, to, of course, use against them later—Whumpee thought. It was the same voice that The Leader would always use; Whumpee wondered why it scared, angered them so much to hear Caretaker take on the same tone. How could they dislike the same tone their God would use? It all confused, and immensely bothered, Whumpee.

"Yes, I do. I was sinful." Whumpee seethed. Their eyes darted around the room, before settling on the white, floral fabric, draped over their bruised thighs. The dress was apparently Caretaker's cousin's, and it was the only clean clothing they had when unexpectantly taking Whumpee in, only about a week ago. Since then, laundry had been done, but Whumpee seemed attached to the dress, and Caretaker wanted them to be as comfortable as possible. It was much prettier, silkier, than their previous, everyday-garment; a gray, modest dress which covered them from head to toe. It sat on them loosely, and was itchy at the seams, but that had never mattered.

Caretaker frowned at the response, but Whumpee hadn't dared to look up to see it.

"How were you sinful—if you're comfortable telling me?" Caretaker questioned—again, far too tenderly. Having sat at the foot of the bed for around 10 minutes now, Caretaker kept conversing with Whumpee—though it felt more like an interrogation for them.

Whumpee hesitated for a moment before answering:

"I.. I wasn't holy yet. I hadn't found The Leader yet—I hadn't found God yet. I hadn't begun worshipping them- and, so, I couldn't have been-.. righteous," Whumpee paused briefly, then continued.

"I would've.. never been forgiven if I had continued like that, but... Now, I'm sure I'll never be forgiven again… no matter how hard I could ever pray." Whumpee practically whispered the second half of the sentance, taking in a shaky breath before muttering the very last part—they sounded as if they were about to sob.

Caretaker sighed, sorrowfully, before slowly—very, very slowly—moving over towards Whumpee, to which Whumpee only stared at them for a moment before looking back down at their thighs. Hesitantly, Caretaker spoke:

"I know, I know it's scary—but none of that's.. true. Please.. know that you're safe. The Leader.." Caretaker hesitated, "God—can't hurt you, anymore. I promise. You're far away from them all now and I won't ever let anybody from back there hurt you ever again. You're safe" they finished.

Caretaker, now sitting knee to knee with Whumpee, looked back into their eyes, only to be met with a small, scarred, terrified, baby deer. Their eyes, yet again, frantically searched for a focus of interest around the room as tears spilt freely now, quiet sobs racking through their chest as they attempted to mutter a defensive response—but to no avail, as they could only let out pitiful whimpers.

How could Caretaker challenge The Leader? How could Caretaker challenge The God—the only being who knew true virtue? It went against all that Whumpee had known for the past four years. And deeply, it both shook and absolutely terrified Whumpee.

Once more, Caretaker moved towards Whumpee, little by little, attempting to look back at Whumpee's face—failing, since Whumpee's head was now lowered and pressed against their thighs, still covered by soft fabric.

"Whumpee… Can I touch you?" Cautiously, Caretaker asked—unsure as to whether Whumpee could even heard them through their now, much louder, sobs. Although, even through Whumpee's hysteric crying, Caretaker could've sworn they'd heard something among the lines of "Yes, okay". And so, steadily, they wrapped their arms around Whumpee, who quickly lifted their arms as well, almost instinctively, wrapping them shakily around Caretaker and burying their face in Caretaker's neck, breathing heavily and smearing their tears everywhere. Whumpee had been deprived of touch for so long, of course they’d take it now that they got the chance to.

After the shock of it all, Caretaker dotingly whispered sweet confirmations, holding Whumpee firmly yet tenderly, making sure to comfort Whumpee yet not trap them.

Words of "It's okay, it's all okay. I promise—you're safe. The Leader can't get to you here" were spoken, caringly.

Eventually, the cries died down, and Whumpee was left in Caretaker's arms, whimpering quietly, their arms now drooping down Caretaker's back.

"How... You're- you're wrong" Whumpee sniffled, well aware of how weak the defense was.

But they were so tired, and still, scared. Desperately, they just wanted to believe Caretaker—believe that they were safe, and believe even that god—not The Leader—but god, either didn't care—or know—about them, or didn't even exist to begin with.

Still terribly unsure of whatever the real truth of it may be—they feared The Leader was right, it was what they'd been taught for so long anyway—they just hoped, so wholeheartedly, but exhaustedly, hoped that they'd be okay. That they'd be safe, that they wouldn't be punished—not for leaving, or for daring to doubt The Leader, and even god.

At least now, in Caretaker's warm arms, they did, indeed, feel safe—for the first time in a very, very long time.

In response to Whumpee's defense, Caretaker only hummed affectionately. Truthfully, Caretaker was proud, so proud, of Whumpee. For the first time in the week they'd been staying with Caretaker, instead of hiding in the closet, or just uncontrollably sobbing and praying while pushing them away, they accepted touch, and comfort, help.

Caretaker knew it'd take a long, long time to work with Whumpee and work towards recovery; Whumpee was still working on processing the very notion that it all, that all of the punishments could've been for nothing. It wasn't as if they had never considered it before. They did at the start, and later on they wondered if—regardless of whether The Leader, or any god was real—anything could've made all that they had been through worth it. Eventually though, they became far too fearful to ever even consider any of it ever again.

Yet here, they slowly fall asleep on Caretaker, their weak body slumping onto them, head awkwardly positioned at their neck; to which Caretaker gently—not too gently this time; without saying anything in fact—positioned Whumpee's body in a more comfortable position, and as Whumpee slept, safely, and warm, Caretaker was sure of it now; they will never give up on Whumpee.

┇A/N: First writing on here! Posting this before my intro as well... it's 3 am now but I just had the urge to write and came up with this (touch starved Whumpee my beloved)... I haven't seen any cult whump recovery drabbles before, so here's one! Hopefully someone enjoyed my writing! ^^

[droptheprompt]

Touch starved promps?

Can do :)

Touch starved

B is scared of coming off as overly clingy to their new partner A, but they just can't let go. A finds it adorable.

Because of their upbringing, A insists that they don't need to get physical affection from anyone. All changes when A wraps them in a surprise hug.

A unable to hold back tears after they get to cuddle for the first time in their life.

B squeezing A's hand like crazy, terrified of letting go.

A finally collected enough courage to snuggle to B's side. They have a hard time staying composed when B wraps their arm around them.

Tingling running through B's skin whenever A touches them, leaving them craving for more.

A is terrified of being touched after a recent bad experience. And yet, they crave B's touch more than anything else.

B freezing in shock and then breaking down when A unexpectedly hugs them as they can't remember the last time getting genuinely hugged.

[tss-whumper]

I keep thinking about touch-starved whumpee Roman and caretaker Logan. Roman knows Logan doesn't like touch much, but then Logan hugs him after realizing Roman's touch-starved, and...Roman kinda breaks. Logan is steady and precise, and Roman is so so cold and confused and never wants to leave.

Anyway, no pressure to write this! (/gen)

I love how you write Patton & Roman bc it feels accurate to me, lol. Haven't been here in a while, but wanted to see how you were doing. Glad I returned to read some of your awesome fics!

Take care :D (/pos)

aww, thank you so much for all the kind words, anon!! i really appreciate the support. this idea looks amazing, and i'd love to write something with it. i hope this is what you were looking for!

---

Roman was cold.

He wasn't quite sure why. This had been happening for a few weeks now, Roman woke up and was cold. He ate breakfast and was cold. He even was cold while taking his hour-long hot showers. No matter what he did, he always felt like he was freezing from the inside out. It had only just recently gotten to the point where he was shivering every moment of the day, his teeth chattering whenever he was not talking.

And that was why Roman was where he was now: wrapped in a blanket, on the couch, in front of the fireplace. While all of the other sides were wearing tank tops and shorts, Roman was secretly wearing pajama pants underneath a second pair of pajama pants.

Roman was focusing on keeping warm, but the sound of arguing started to emerge from the hallway into the living room, causing the creative side to carefully listen in, as he tended to do.

"Patton, I don't want a hug. Get off me."

Logan was clearly losing his patience with the overly-affectionate side, and Roman watched from the couch as Logan's muscles tensed and his breathing grew more labored. It was not a secret that the logical side generally disliked physical touch, especially when he was not the one initiating it. The only thing he hated more than physical touch was not being listened to.

"Oh, Logan, stop being such a sourpuss!" Patton chided, "I'm just showin' my favorite logical guy some love! Hug me back, and then I'll let you go!"

Logan rolled his eyes, and they flashed with irritation as he reluctantly hugged Patton back. The paternal side squealed and let go of Logan, skipping out of the room to likely do the same surprise bear hug to Virgil that he had subjected Logan to.

Roman huffed softly from his spot on the couch. Once again, Patton hadn't even noticed that he was in the room. Recently, it had been like that more and more. Patton gave all his attention to all the other sides, but when Roman was around, he awkwardly shuffled away. Roman had tried to make amends from what happened in the past few episodes, going so far as to try and protect Patton from Janus, but it never seemed to be enough for him.

But that wasn't the important thing right now. Roman shivered, a bit cold in the room as he stood up and approached Logan.

"Hey, pocket watch, wanna watch musicals with special effects and try to figure out how they do them?" he offered.

Logan offered a small, tired smile.

"Sure, Roman," he said, "That would be lovely."

Together, the two sides went to Roman's room. Though most of the fans saw the clear animosity between Roman and Logan, the two were rather good friends off-camera. When there was nothing at stake for Thomas, they found good company in each other. Logan helped Roman listen to reason when he was being overly idealistic, and Roman helped Logan find hope and inspiration where there seemed to be none at all.

And best of all, they both loved to watch musicals with special effects and try to figure out how they were done. They giggled and kicked their feet and shouted like children when they guessed correctly.

Something about being with Logan made Roman feel as if he could be himself for a change. He didn't have to put on a performance that he was some grand, indestructible prince, simply because there was no point. Logan could always see right through Roman's acts. Logan knew that Roman was not really a prince, that he really was very sensitive. And though that was scary sometimes, it was usually refreshing, not needing to pretend. Especially because it was obvious that Logan knew how it felt to be put on that sort of stifling pedestal.

Roman was the only person who Logan felt safe to be himself around too, though not for the same reason. Logan struggled to be taken seriously by the other sides, often seen as a joke. Though Roman teased Logan, it was clear that Roman did not view Logan as lesser-than or pathetic. Roman listened to and respected Logan's wishes, especially off camera. He made Logan feel...listened to. And almost appreciated at times? It was something Logan was generally unfamiliar with. But with Roman, it tended to be abundant.

"Roman? What's going on?"

Roman blinked, and looked over at Logan. He clutched his blankets closer to himself as he felt a terrible chill come over him.

"N- no- nothing," Roman stammered between his chattering teeth, "I'm just cold is all."

"Cold?" Logan asked sharply, extremely concerned, "It's eighty degrees in here, and you have two blankets on. I'm surprised you aren't overheating."

Roman was not expecting that level of worry from Logan, who was usually so level-headed.

"Um...I dunno," Roman shrugged, "I'm just cold. I don't know what to tell you. It's been like this for a few weeks now. I figured my room just had a draft or something."

Logan felt Roman's forehead. Roman shivered, subconsciously leaning into Logan's gentle and warming touch. Logan's fingers delicately brushed the hair away from Roman's forehead.

"You don't feel feverish or unwell," the logical side mused, "You don't seem to be sick at all. But I can't think of any other reason why you might feel like...this."

Logan paused when he saw how Roman reacted to his touch.

"You're so warm," Roman murmured, an almost delirious smile on his face, "I've never felt anything warmer, not in all my life."

Logan did not think he was particularly toasty. He frowned a bit, and put his other hand on Roman's shoulder. When the creative side practically keened into the touch, Logan realized what the problem was, the pieces of the puzzle coming together in his head in one immediate snap.

"It's touch," he realized, "Roman, when was the last time somebody touched you?"

"Three weeks ago," Roman said, as if he had the time and place memorized, "When Patton petted my head after I did the dishes."

"So you've gone three weeks without being touched..." Logan mused, "And you're cold. And the moment I touch you, you're warm."

Logan decided to try something else. But when he leaned in to hug Roman, the creative side quickly pulled away.

"Logan- please, you don't have to do that," Roman said quickly, "Patton said I need to work on my selfishness and pushiness. I- I don't want you to hug me if you don't want to. I know you don't like touch. I'll be fine. It's just a little cold."

"Roman."

Logan's voice was so sharp that Roman looked up from his rambling in surprise. Sure, he was used to Logan sounding stern, but this was more than that. His violet-blue eyes blazed with an intensity that Roman rarely saw from his friend. Logan was considerably vexed.

"I mean-"

"Roman."

"I didn't mean to-"

"Roman."

"But I just wanted to-"

"Roman!"

Roman ceased.

"I understand what you intended," Logan said, with an awkward chuckle, and warmth seeped into his tone, making him sound almost friendly. "And I know I've expressed that I'm not particularly fond of physical affection. But this is different. You need me, and...honestly, it's not the touch that I dislike. It's the suddenness of being touched without permission. When Patton surprise hugs me, it...makes me nervous. When Remus elbows me out of nowhere, or when Virgil ruffles my hair, it just unnerves me. I like hugging my friends, Roman. I like it when I get to decide when it starts and ends. Does that make any sense?"

Roman couldn't hide the bright grin that formed on his face.

"It makes sense," he reassured, but a shiver ran through his body, causing him to let out a whimper as he hugged himself in an attempt to preserve body heat.

He rushed to put the blankets around himself again, but Logan stopped him gently. And then, he pulled Roman into the softest, gentlest, warmest hug that Roman had ever experienced. The prince's doe-like brown eyes went round as saucers. And then, he hugged Logan back, with the same gentle strength that Logan exhibited.

And they hugged for a good, long time. Until Roman stopped shivering. Then, Logan got to initiate exactly when it was time to pull back. The two sides looked into each others eyes for a long time. And Logan did not for a moment expect to see tears shining in Roman's.

"Roman...what's the matter?" Logan asked, quickly bringing a hand to Roman's cheek to swipe away the glistening tears.

"I don't know- I- I-" Roman whimpered, "I've never felt so warm. This feeling, it's- it's not bad, but I'm just- I'm so overwhelmed..."

He sobbed and sobbed, and Logan pulled him close, allowing Roman to sob into his shoulder. Logan did not show it on his ever-neutral face, but his heart clenched whenever he heard his dear friend's cries. Roman was a crier, whether he was happy, sad, or angry. But despite how common it was to hear and see, Logan still never quite got used to it. Logan just hated to see Roman look so confused and lost. The creative side had never looked more like a child than he did in that moment.

"It's alright, Roman," Logan hushed gently, "It's alright. I've got you. And I want this. I know you're a lot colder than I am. But being here with you, I've never felt so warm either. It appears we have that in common. So relax. Please. I want you here. I...I love you, Roman."

"I..." Roman's breath caught in his throat.

God, how long had it been since somebody said those words to him with such sincerity and sureness?

How long had it been since somebody said them to Logan?

"I love you too," the creative side replied, the words coming out his mouth as easily as water poured through a stream.

There was much more hugging, and staring, and hugging, and staring. The touched-starved prince and the typically emotionally unavailable teacher both felt more alive when they were together. It was such a beautiful feeling they shared, something that could not quite be described or otherwise replicated. All they knew was that together, in that room, surrounded by blankets and all by themselves, Roman and Logan felt trust.

"To think," Roman laughed, in higher spirits already, "The solution was right here this entire time!"

"How absurd of me to be so dense!" Logan cried out, "To have only noticed this now, I'm very ashamed of myself."

"Don't be," Roman reassured, "I couldn't be more grateful for you, Logan."

"And same to you, Roman," Logan said, "If you ever need some warmth from me again, you can always ask. Alright?"

Roman beamed and nodded enthusiastically.

"You got it, teach! he said, "And the second you want it all to stop, I'll pull away. Okay?"

Logan sighed softly, and the smile that grew on his face was so wide and free that it surprised him. To think. Having the choice. It was nice to have a physical relationship that did not feel conditional.

"Okay," he affirmed, adjusting his glasses. "It's a deal."

[the-three-whumpeteers]

The whumpee doesn’t know how to express their emotions, the ones they’ve hold on to even after being rescued. The caretaker slowly learns to tell how the whumpee is feeling, and starts offering to help whenever they might need it. The whumpee is endlessly grateful, as they finally get the chance to understand and feel their emotions after being hurt for so long.

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Whumpuary 2024 No. 15

"You're safe" | Aftermath | Touch Starved

Whumpuary Prompts List

TW: touch starved, mentioned capture

“Are you okay?”

Whumpee jumped, Caretaker's presence startling them. “Uh… yeah.”

“You’re shaking.” Caretaker dropped down onto the ground to sit next to them. Their closeness to Whumpee was… Whumpee didn’t know how to describe the emotion.

“I… uh…” They registered Caretaker’s words. They had a point. The adrenaline coursing through Whumpee’s veins had probably been the only reason they’d managed to stay upright during the rescue. Whumpee held up their hand. It trembled violently. “I guess I am.”

Caretaker smiled softly and reached out, taking Whumpee’s outstretched hand into their own. “It’s okay now,” they said. “You’re safe.”

Whumpee was barely listening as they stared at their hand, the fingers intertwined with Caretaker’s. How long had it been since they’d experienced human touch? Not since being captured by Whumper.

“...I have to ask again, are you okay?”

Whumpee glanced up at Caretaker, whose expression had changed to one of concern. They thought for a moment before scooting closer so their shoulder was against Caretaker’s. “I dunno…” they mumbled. “I guess… I guess I missed you.”

Caretaker stiffened slightly at Whumpee’s touch, but they did not pull away. They squeezed Whumpee’s hand.  “I missed you too.”

[thewhumpcaretaker]

You know when you touch a touch starved man or one who really loves you and he just does that little...thing? The eyes half close, and you can see his breathing stop for a second, maybe he even leans into your hand involuntarily, and his whole body does a little shudder, like it's a complete sensory overload and he's either about to pass out or orgasm?

That's the reason I choose to continue living.

[whumperofworlds]

Caretaker freeing Whumpee, and Whumpee rushing forward to tackle them into a hug. ❤️

BONUS: Whumpee is touch starved.

[sugarsweetwriter]

hello! it’s been awhile but does anybody know what happened to @whumpshaped and @sowhumpshaped? my favourite blogs for a long time but I hadn’t looked at them for awhile and they’re now both deactivated :( I used to be 🍒 anon on @sowhumpshaped’s blog (both blogs by the same person). please, if anybody knows then let me know! and is there anywhere else I could find them? on any other platform or blog? really hope they’re okay.

[meraki24601]

Not Sick: Part 2

Whumptober day 2! Woohoo! I chose thermometer.

Part 1

-----------*-***-*-----------

Something was poking the inside of Whumpee’s mouth. Not the way they wanted to wake up. 

“No. I told you to hold that still.” A voice groaned as a hand pushed Whumpee’s jaw closed, pressing the object firmly into their mouth and below their tongue. “Don’t whine at me. If you had told me you were sick sooner, we could have caught this before it got so bad.”

The hand on Whumpee's face was cool. Their skin felt like it was burning. Every part of them ached, pulling a moan from their ashy throat. 

A loud beeping made Whumpee flinch, and the hand drew away, taking the object with it. They missed the comfort immediately. Whumpee couldn't stop the slight lean in the direction it had gone. They needed it back. Please, don't leave them like that.

Music flowed over Whumpee, releasing the tension holding them under. 

The voice was humming a familiar tune. The song's name was on the tip of their tongue, but Whumpee couldn't seem to grasp it. Instead, they allowed their eyes to flutter open, squinting against the light coming in from the open window. 

Caretaker was standing next to Whumpee's desk, observing the object in their hand and taking notes. Their brow was furrowed in that funny way that made Whumpee want to remind them of their future wrinkles. But… their mouth was quirked up in a soft, lopsided smile. It was new. They were humming so softly. Obviously trying not to disturb Whumpee while providing some small comfort since they hummed louder every time Whumpee took a deep breath. This was new. This was odd and… new.

Whumpee gasped as their throbbing head clenched around their focus. Their hand shook as they dragged it out from under the blanket wrapped around them to grip at their forehead. The only thing that kept them from crying out was Caretaker whispering gently, "Yeah, I know. I'll get some more medicine once the stores open, but you're going to have to hang on until then, and… You're awake."

Flinching slightly at the rough change in Caretaker's voice, they looked over at their roommate. A frown had taken over their expression, and they looked mad. Whumpee wanted to apologize immediately. If stores weren't even open, it must have been really early. Caretaker had no reason to be standing in their room taking care of them when Whumpee had been nothing but rude the past couple of days. They wanted to thank them for being kind. Maybe even ask for some water since they honestly couldn't remember the last time they were able to keep some down. "Not sick."

"Really? Hmm. Guess we need to get a new thermometer since this one says you have a 102° (39°C) fever." Caretaker tossed the thermometer on the desk. "Tell you what, if you can sit up on your own, I'll believe you. Even though you've been basically unconscious for the past two days."

Now that was a bad idea. Too late now, though.

Whumpee tried. They shook and shivered. They moaned with each wave of hurt. When Caretaker started to apologize and take back their words, Whumpee ignored them. They made it up to their elbows, head too heavy to hold above their pillows before Caretaker intervened. 

Caretaker's arms wrapped around Whumpee, taking on their weight as Whumpee dropped in surprise. A hand shifted to lift Whumpee's head to Caretaker's shoulder. Whumpee waited for the panic to take over, but it didn't come. 

"I'm sorry, Whumpee. I know, I'll let you go in just a second. Let me shift your pillows so you can rest on them. I'll stop touching you, I promise. Just let me help you for a moment."

Whumpee turned their head so they were buried against Caretaker's cool throat. 

Fear didn't come until Caretaker released them in a more upright position against their pillows. Why had that felt so good? Nobody touches Whumpee. They didn't want them to. What was this fever doing to them? Their chest tightened. What moisture they had in their mouth caught and triggered a deep cough that didn't stop.

"I'm sorry, Whumpee. Just stay still. I'll get you some water." Caretaker sounded on the brink of tears as they rushed out the door.

They didn't see Whumpee's hand reaching after them. They were gone before Whumpee choked out a desperate plea for them to stay. 

Part 3

[slippedtheknot]

Whumpmas: Day "Four"

At the Mall + Don't Let Them See You Cry + Touch Starved

TW: swearing

Whumpee marched down the shiny floors with his head hung low. Big, flashy signs bordered his peripheral vision that promised they had even lower prices.

"Whumpee! Whumpee, wait, that's not what I meant!" Caretaker shouted after Whumpee; his boots squeaking on the tile as he sprinted to catch up to Whumpee.

"Hey, stop." Caretaker grabbed his shoulder and flipped Whumpee's body around. "I didn't mean it that way, I promise."

"What could you have possibly fucking meant?" Whumpee, despite being injured in several places, took a warning step towards Caretaker.

"I just meant that asking Leader for a hug looks really weak. If he sees you as weak, he won't put you on another mission...and-"

"Shut up." Whumpee raised his hand. "Let me worry about me, and you worry about you, 'ight? Mind your own fucking business."

"Okay, but Leader told me that you cried? Like, in your 'lil office? You shouldn't do that, Whumpee. You'll seem weak."

"Shut the fuck up."

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

Arinn found by Liv shipwreck was SO GOOD. Part two maybe pretty please? If you're up for it.

LONG delayed part two of this! It was sitting way down in my drafts half finished. :')

Content Warnings: demon/incubus whumpee, shipwrecked, rescue, exhaustion, touch starved

----

Dry clothes, a warm bed and a meal do wonders for the demon. Arinn doesn't say much but he's grateful...especially when they don't ask any questions about the marks on his body. He manages to tell them his name before falling asleep.

Exhausted by everything he's been through, he sleeps well into the evening, looking much better than when Liv found him corpse-like on the beach.

But the next morning his condition has taken a turn. He's somehow more pale and drawn, barely able to sit up.

Liv and Emmeline assume he's sick after too long spent soaked out in the cold. He isn't sneezing, coughing or feverish, but they can't come up with another explanation. They give him plenty of blankets and bring him food and water but nothing seems to help.

"We have to do something," Liv whispers to Emmeline out in the hall. "He's dying."

"He isn't dying," Emmeline answers calmly, her hand on Liv's arm. "He just isn't well."

She peers into his room.

"Oh - he's awake. Let me see if he needs anything..."

Liv doesn't argue; Emmeline's bedside manner is a lot better than hers. But she watches from the doorway as Emmeline goes to sit at the edge of the bed.

"Hey," Emmeline says softly. "How are you feeling?"

Arinn's slowly blinking eyes meet hers. "I'm okay," he answers unconvincingly.

Emmeline puts her hand on his. He's cold to the touch and shaking slightly, but the longer she holds his hand the less he trembles.

The two women exchange a glance and Emmeline nods her head. Without a word, Liv goes to sit on the other side and takes the demon's other hand.

"Tell us what you need," Emmeline gently insists.

Tears spill down the young man's face. He can barely stay awake, but his grip on their hands tightens.

"This," he pleads brokenly. "Just this. Please, it's - it's hard to explain..."

"You don't have to," Liv interrupts. "Not right now. Just get some rest."

He doesn't need to be told twice. Comforted by their touch and presence, Arinn sleeps.