#whumperless whump event: day six

[oncemorewithwhump]

Reid gets a little too hot while working a case.

Rating: T

For the @whumperless-whump-event

Prompt: Summer is a Curse

heatstroke / panting

[seth-whumps]

I MADE A WHUMP EVENT: get ready for July folks

welcome to the Whumperless Whump Event of July! for your sickfic, situational, and completely apersonal whump needs--comfort included, of course. follow @whumperless-whump-event for more information and details!

Image transcripts, tagging rules, and guidelines under the cut!

RULES

Any and all art types allowed (GIFs, drawings, music, writing, etc.)

No AI generated content allowed

OCs and Fandom works alike are welcome :)

Trigger and content tags required, even if the prompt explicitly requires the content (eg. Vomiting still needs the emetophobia tag)

NSFT and NSFW are allowed, if tagged appropriately. This blog will not reblog them, as minors do follow it. However, you're still free to write as you please :)

If enough interest is shown, I will make an Ao3 collection (edit: ao3 collection is made and can be found here)

Side note: please let me know if there's anything I can do to make this post or event more accessible. Should I put the image transcripts on the ID too? Is the formatting causing issues? What can I do?

This is not a contest, just an event. The only awards will be announcements for people who completed the whole darn thing. My entries will not receive any announcements or awards, because I'm hosting

TAGGING

Tag with, per example: #whumperless whump event day 1; #whumperless whump event; and (optional) #whumperless whump event day 1: alcohol as a sanitizer

Tag @whumperless-whump-event please! If not, I may not see it or be able to reblog it!

If desired, tag the medium you used

Trigger tag and content warn (including nsfw/nsft)

If posting early, tag with #wwe early entry. If posting late, tag with #wwe late entry. If posting just for fun, no need to tag these!

IMPORTANT:

There are NO OTHER RULES. Do one prompt! Do seven! Do 'em all! Repeat the same prompt six days in a row! Switch them around and do them all out of order! Post them eight months after the event is over! Finish the prompt list early! Write one long-ass story that deals with every prompt or do a one-sentence drabble for each one! Recommend your favorite scenes regarding the prompt! Write, draw, sing, play music, make playlists, do fic recs or show recs or episode recs or book recs, fucking crochet or something! FOLLOW THE VIBE. DO WHAT'S FUN.

Prompts (text):

Emergency First Aid: Self-done stitches / Alcohol as sanitizer / “It's just a scratch, I've had worse.”

Does your insurance cover this?: Car accident / Bystander caretaker / “Eyes open, ambulance is almost here.”

Like a record, baby: Vertigo / Struggling to stand / “Is the room spinning, or is it just me?”

It's every day bro: Chronic pain / Massage / “I'm used to it.”

Stealing my breath (give it back): Wheezing / Light-headed / “I'll count, you just breathe.”

Summer is a curse: Heat Stroke / Panting / “Why don't we… find some shade, quick?”

Accidental Cryotherapy: Falling through a frozen lake / Hypothermia / “Hey, c'mon, you gotta stay awake.”

Put your head on my shoulder: Migraine / Light & Sound Sensitivity / “I can close the curtains…”

White and red handkerchief: Coughing up blood / Can't speak / “You just can't shake that cough, can you?”

Your work is never finished: Forced to work while ill / Workplace emergency / “...sit down, I'm calling HR.”

A minor annoyance: Stuffy nose / Hate to be sick / “I'm fine, I can work.”

It's going down (I'm yelling timber): Building collapse / Trapped under rubble / “I can't move my legs.”

It's just a pebble: Avalanche / Stuck in the mountains / “Well, this wasn't how I thought the hiking trip would go.”

Lay down your sword: Fighting back a cold / Cuddling / “Just let yourself be sick so you can get better.”

I'm going down (you're yelling timber): Passing out / Exhaustion / “I've got you, let's sit down, I've got you.”

Say goodbye to filters: Half-conscious / Delirious / “You would never say that in your right mind…”

In hot water: Dangerously high fever / Cool baths / “We have to get that number down somehow.”

I don't see it: Hallucinations / Fever dreams / “It's just a nightmare. You're safe.”

The whump morning after: Tending to injuries / Domestic hurt comfort / “Let's check the bandages, okay?”

It's not fun if you're panicking: Stuck in an elevator / Claustrophobia / “Get me out.”

Where's the exit: Lost / Stuck in the wilderness / “Surely someone will notice we're gone.”

Better out than in: Nervous Stomach / Vomiting / “I got your hair, it's fine.”

Well, that doesn't taste right: Accidentally poisoned / Allergic reaction / “My tongue feels like bees, is that normal?”

Be one with the fish: Drowning / Rescue Breaths / “Why did you think that was a good idea?!”

We didn't start the fire: Severe burns / Running into flames / “I know it hurts. Breathe.”

That's no barn spider: Venomous bite / Arachnophobia / “You'll be okay, we can help.”

What's your name again?: Concussion / Temporary Amnesia / “I don't remember what happened to me.”

Nothing behind the eyes: Fully unconscious / Force feeding / “It's just me, go back to sleep.”

Wrong place, wrong time: Robbery / One of many hostages / “Stay behind me, I can take a hit.”

I don't mean to get emotional: Fear / Breaking point / “I can't stop crying, I'm sorry--”

Only way out is through: Tunnel collapse / Accidental Journey / “We can't just sit here and wait.”

ALTERNATES:

Seizure

Choking

Withdrawal

Mugged

Wild animal attack

Hangover

Strain/sprain

Broken bone

Bloody nose

Panic attack

[kirbys-lover]

Day twelve of @whumperless-whump-event

Fandoms: The Flash, and Nightwing

Tw for blood

Building collapse | trapped under rubble | "I can't feel my legs"

The Flash ran through the rubble of the building, searching frantically for his best friend. Nightwing couldn't be dead. He couldn't be.

The building had come down just moments before, with Nightwing still inside, and now he wasn't answering his comm. It had only been a minute or so, but to Wally, it felt like hours.

He felt like his fingers were falling off as he dug and dug, dragging civilians out with the rubble. He could feel his fear turning to panic as each person he found wasn't Dick. He couldn't be buried that far!

Suddenly, he heard static through his comm, followed by a quiet "...Wally?"

Wally could've cried with relief. Dick was alive. His boyfriend was still breathing. But that didn't mean he was unharmed. In fact, it was highly likely that he was injured, seeing as he had forgotten to use Wally's codename. Dick never forgot.

"Nightwing? Where are you? Are you okay?" Wally said, shooting out questions before he even knew what he was saying.

"I... I'm stuck. I can't move my legs!" Dick answered, sounding panicked.

"Nightwing, status report," Wally barked, remembering that was something Batman did when Dick was too out of it to answer.

"Legs are pinned, definitely broken. I'm bleeding from... somewhere, I'm not sure where, and definitely a concussion. I... I don't know where I am, just that I'm buried. I'm sorry."

Man, that worked wonders. Wally wondered if there was some code word for every situation.

"It's okay, I'm gonna get you out. Just hang on," Wally said, continuing to dismantle the building. "How bad are you bleeding?"

"Bad," Dick answered. Wally's heart sank. "I think it's coming from my legs or stomach, but it's already soaked my back. I'm... I'm starting to get really dizzy..."

"Nightwing, stay awake," Wally ordered. "I'm going to find you, just keep talking."

Wally sped up, his movements becoming desperate and frantic. He couldn't lose Dick. He'd lost so many people, but losing Dick would break him.

"Walls... I don't... I don't think I can stay awake much longer..." Dick said, his voice growing weaker.

"Please, Dick, just try!" Wally shouted, dropping the codename to see if Dick would listen better.

"Don't p-panic, but I think 'm going into shock..."

Wally panicked. He couldn't help it. He had stayed calm as long as possible, but Dick's voice fading out, and the fact that he hadn't found him yet, was making that impossible. And now that Dick was going into shock, he didn't have much longer.

What if he couldn't get Dick help in time? What if he was too late? What if Dick was already gone when he found him?

After he'd broken each finger probably six times, he saw a flash of familiar black hair. It was Dick.

"Dick? I'm here, baby, I'm here," he said, lifting the rubble off of him. What he saw nearly made him freeze up.

Dick's face was pale as death, too pale to blame on the dust, and the blood was just... everywhere. He had been right, though. The blood was coming from a deep puncture wound in his abdomen. He was conscious, but only barely.

Wally picked up his boyfriend's upper half, holding him close and feeling for a heartbeat. When he felt it, he let out a breath that he hadn't known he was holding. It was weak and way too fast, but it was there.

"I'm here now, Dickiebird. You're gonna be okay," he said softly through the tears he hadn't realized were there.

"Hngh," was all Dick managed to say in response, his eyes glazing over.

Wally removed the rubble from Dick's legs, preparing for the possible bleeding. They were badly broken, but thankfully there was no more blood.

"I'll be right back, babe. Just stay right here," he said before running off, freeing any remaining citizens.

When he returned, Dick almost looked worse than when he left.

"Dickie? Can you hear me?" Wally asked. Dick paused for a moment before nodding slowly. "Good. I'm gonna get you to the cave. You're gonna be okay."

He planted a kiss on his forehead before speeding off into the night.

//////

Hours later, Wally found himself sitting outside the med bay in the bat cave. This was always his least favorite part. Sitting still, and waiting. Not knowing if his boyfriend was okay. Not knowing if he would even make it.

Of course, he trusted Alfred and Leslie, but it was bad this time. Dick's body had started to decompensate when Wally had picked him up, and he hadn't been breathing when he got to the cave. He knew that no news was good news, but that didn't make the wait any easier.

"Master Wallace?" He heard Alfred say, startling him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah?" He asked eagerly.

"My apologies. I did not mean to startle you. Anyways, Master Dick is now stable, and is asking for you," Alfred said.

Wally's body visibly sagged with relief. Dick was alive. Alive, and awake enough to ask for him. He wasted no time in following Alfred.

When he saw Dick, he could've cried. His big blue eyes were open, focused, and looking right at him. Although he had a mask on, he was, in fact, breathing.

Wally rushed over to him, kissing him deeply before Dick could even react.

"I'm glad you're not dead," Wally said, crying silently, yet laughing with relief.

"Hm. Me too," Dick said tiredly.

"I told you you'd be okay. Hey, he's gonna be okay, right?" He Wally asked Alfred.

"Indeed," Alfred answered. "It was a close shave, but as soon as we got him blood, he perked right up."

"Good. That's good," he said before burying his face in Dick's shoulder.

"I'm gonna be okay Wally..." Dick said, reassuringly. Wally still wasn't sure he believed it.

"You'd better be."

He held Dick tightly, and this time, Dick squeezed him back.

[whumpbug]

whumperless whump event day 19: the whump morning after! @whumperless-whump-event

tending to injuries / domestic hurt comfort / “let's check the bandages, okay?”

see this post for character information!

caretaker: Simon

whumpee: Archie

guys. it's here. i can't explain why but i think this is my favorite simon and archie fic i've written and i literally wrote it the week after i made them so PLS ENJOY!!

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

“Ow ow ow! Fuck!”

“Easy, easy! Jeez Archie, relax, would you? Are you trying to run a marathon or something?”

“I have to pee!”

Simon pinched the bridge of his nose and huffed.

“We’ll take it slow. The last thing we need is you popping a stitch because you're rushing it. That cut was a pain in the ass to suture.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Just help me? Please?”

Simon sighed.

Patrol nights were always rough on Archie. At least during the fights, he was always too hopped up on adrenaline to notice how injured he really was, and he usually conked out before Simon finished patching him up.

The mornings, however, were unrelenting. 

Every ache, bruise, slash and sprain from the night before now made itself very apparent, and Archie wasn’t able to ignore it.

As for this particular night, it had been a pretty rough fight between Archie and some lackies from a well-known drug operation he had been trying to dismantle. They were dosed on strength enhancers that rivaled Archie’s own abilities, and while he came out on top, it definitely wasn’t an easy fight.

Now, he was sporting a black eye, several broken ribs, a knife wound to the gut, a sprained ankle, a mild concussion, and a mosaic of bruises all over his body.

Rough night indeed.

“Alright, let’s get you up then,” Simon bent down and wrapped his arm under Archie’s. Archie braced as Simon started to guide him up, grunting sharply when they started to move from the couch.

“Go slower.”

“And here I thought you were about to piss yourself.”

“Just go!”

He grit his teeth against the all-consuming jolt of pain that overtook his body. God, the morning after really did suck.

“Alright alright, almost there..” Simon soothed, taking a bit more of his weight. “Just a little more..”

After a ridiculous amount of time, they were both finally standing. Archie was heavily favoring his left ankle as he began his hobble to the bathroom door with Simon’s help. Every step was agony.

“Alright, I’ll be fine from here,” He stated with a wince. He waved Simon away from the hallway, but Simon.. didn’t move.

“Nuh uh. No way. The last time I left you on your own, you fell and cracked your head on the bathtub. I’m waiting right here in the hall.”

“Ew, no! That’s weird! Go away!”

“It’s only weird because you’re making it weird. You forget I’m literally in school to do this for a living. This is strictly professional.”

“Whatever. Weirdo.”

“Strictly. Professional.”

Archie shot Simon a weak scowl as he shut the restroom door behind him.

Simon waited awkwardly for a few moments before he heard a zip, a flush, and the whoosh of the faucet. 

Archie merged from the bathroom, looking absolutely unsteady on his wobbling legs. He was just about to pitch forward when Simon closed the distance between them, slipping an arm around Archie’s waist. “Alright. Back to the couch we go.”

It took another eternity, but finally, Archie was lying down again, significantly paler than when he had started. 

“This sucks.” He whined, breathing deeply through his nose as the aftershocks of pain reverberated through his bones.

“Yeah, well, maybe you should think about that before you try to take on six guys that are three times your size,” Simon retorted, replacing the ice pack on Archie’s ribs. “That was the most stupid thing I’ve seen you do in a while, and I’ve seen you do some pretty stupid things.”

Archie would have crossed his arms indignantly if he could.

“You should have seen the other guys..” He muttered under his breath, rather childishly.

Still, despite his banter, the way sweat was beading on Archie’s brow and the way his face was void of all color was not lost on Simon.

“Hey, let’s check those bandages, okay? I think you might have popped a stitch after all.”

“I did not. I would know.”

“You absolutely wouldn’t. Lift your shirt.”

Archie rolled his eyes and slowly lifted the fabric to reveal… a bright red stain on the gauze.

He didn’t have to look at Simon to know the kind of smirk he was sporting.

Simon made quick work of replacing the suture and re-wrapping the wound. His hands worked deftly and with a practiced manner that Archie found himself feeling.. saddened by. He couldn’t quite explain it. It was more of the realization that Simon had been doing this for a while, enough that it was second nature, and Archie had done.. well, nearly nothing for him. He had yet to repay him for his undying generosity.

“Simon..” He began. His voice faltered the slightest bit. “Do you.. ever get tired of.. this.” He motioned vaguely to himself.

At the sudden change in conversation, a mixture of anger, hurt, and surprise flashed across Simon’s face. 

“What do you mean?”

“I just mean.. well..” Archie swallowed the lump in his throat and averted his gaze. “This can’t be fun for you. You come back from classes, from work, probably exhausted, and have to deal with me. I just.. I don’t want you to think you have to do it. I’ll be fine on my own if you don't want to. You’ve taught me enough that I--”

“Archie. Look at me.”

Archie drew his gaze up and met Simon’s unwavering eyes. 

“Listen to me. I don’t ever want you to think I am just dealing with you. I do this because I genuinely want to. Nobody is forcing me, I’m doing it because you deserve it. Archie, I know I don’t say it a lot, but you do so much to help others,” He said breathlessly, taking Archie hand and holding it tightly. “You deserve someone that will do the same for you.”

Suddenly, Archie found himself scrubbing viciously at traitorous tears that spilled over. Before he could say anything else, Simon pulled him into an embrace. It was the kind of hug that cradles every part of your soul, every part of your being.

He wept openly in Simon’s arms.

“You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not,” He hummed, rubbing Archie’s back and pulling away slowly.

“So you’d better start learning how to dodge.”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

[kuralkara]

Whumperless Whump Event- Day 16

Half conscious/Delirious/"You would never say that in your right mind."

This one is Really Short by my standards. Wasn't feeling the best today.

You stared, flatly, up at the woman above you. She wasn't- was she real? She might be real. Or maybe not. She seemed to filter and flicker like the shitty lights did. Those needed to be replaced. Ideally before they caused a migraine. "You have such lovely eyes," you mumbled, and she looked down at you for a split second.

"Yep, that's a gas attack," she mumbled. She flickered again, and it wasn't until she- not ungently, but not carefully either- rubbed her thumb under your eye that you realized you kept drifting off. She had such warm hands. "You would never say either of those things in your right mind. What year is it?"

Year? You didn't know. Did it matter? The world's been shit for the past six winters. What other measure of time was needed?

@whumperless-whump-event

[whumperless-whump-event]

Whumperless Whump Event Day Six

SUMMER IS A CURSE: Heat Stroke / Panting / “Why don't we… find some shade, quick?”

Tag this account ( @whumperless-whump-event ) to have your prompt fills reblogged here!

[gauze-valley]

Whumperless Whump Event Day 1

Prompt: Emergency first aid, self done stitches

Finished my first post for @whumperless-whump-event's first prompt a liiittle late but I did it! This snippet is a precursor to. The only other thing I've written on this blog, which you can find here and here (in order!)

If u like the whole "caretaker has to care for themselves and suck it up so they can be there for people" trope, this might be for you!!

my stuff for this event probably won't be too polished, sorry about that! I'm just here to actually get myself to write :')

CW: Graphic description of self-suturing a wound, needles, graphic description of pain, laceration

[~1 and a half pages, 3rd person POV, OC/non-fandom]

If nothing else, at least the wound is only leaking. The stasis spell has held up surprisingly well, but the mirage-like waves in the magic aura around the wound tell Ira that he's made the right call in deciding it needs to be properly dealt with now, if the pain hadn't said as much already.

But he's exhausted. His limbs ache and there's a weight pulling on his body. He hasn't been off of his feet since early in the morning. A small reckless part of him says to recast the spell and lay down for a bit- what's the harm? He'll be closing this thing himself, and surely he could do it better with a little rest.

That'd be stupid, though. The overuse of healing magic is a risk for most already, let alone someone like Ira, whose mixed essentia halfway wants to reject every bit of holy magic that enters his body. He'll already be feeling the effects of this tomorrow, he's sure, and a second cast could put him entirely out of commission.

It's with a slow reluctance that he goes about cleaning the wound, sterilizing the area and wiping away the topmost layer of blood so he can actually see the edges More begins to seep out in response, but it's slow- the spell is still holding, and it's far more long than it is deep, so it seems safe to close. Unfortunately, the pain suppression is beginning to wear off, but that's all the more reason to get this over with.

Staring into the bathroom mirror, he tries to steel himself, conjure the motivation. He's done things like this before, in fact, he's done much worse procedures on himself than stitching a simple laceration, but his head is pounding and he just wants today to be over. Not that tomorrow will be any better. He's still needed- he won't be resting unless this gets much, much worse, and he intends not to let that happen.

Pushing the needle through the skin is easy. His hands are steady despite how worn and heavy they feel. They always are. Gritting his teeth through the pain, trying not to let the feeling of thread dragging through the punctures disrupt his focus, is much harder. Every sharp tug makes his skin crawl with disgust.

Ira resists the urge to rush it, because he's smarter than that and it's difficult enough to keep it neat considering the awkwardness of having to look down or look in the mirror for guidance, but fucking hell, every time this process is prolonged by having to clear away the blood again, he wants to scream.

Finally, he ties off the sutures, giving a relieved sigh that he immediately regrets as a dull pain shoots through his entire side. He carefully cleans the remaining blood once again and properly dresses the wound before throwing on a loose T-shirt. Now all he needs to do is clean up here before Six and Joy get back.

A ringing from the other room interrupts his thoughts. His phone. Muttering curses to himself, he walks over to snatch it off the bed and answers.

"Yes?"

"Chaplain Stepford, um, I'm sorry to bother you, but Chaplain Hart is busy and so is everyone else and-" Ira pinches the bridge of his nose. Of course, it's Clea. Can the acolytes not go an hour without his supervision?

"Is it urgent?" He interrupts, his tone short and exasperated.

"Not… exactly right now, but it could be. I think Lane's making a bad call about something and he won't listen to me."

"About what exactly? Spit it out." God, he knows he should be receptive to his students coming to him for help, but just once it'd be so nice if literally anyone else could deal with it.

"He wants to completely seal a wound, because he thinks-"

That's all he needs to hear. Lane should know better, but of course he doesn't. Of course he'd not only overestimate his own skill but completely disregard all warnings about only using drastic magic when it's completely necessary. "No. No, absolutely not. Tell him that if he does that without my approval, I'm releasing him from my mentorship."

"I already tried telling him that that'd probably happen. He said I'm just upset because we have different ideas. Can you come talk to him?"

"I'll be there in less than ten. Make it very clear to him that his ass is expelled from the program if I get there and that wound is mended shut. He's far from skilled enough to attempt that, I don't care how much he's read about it. If he insists on being a moron before I can get there, find another chaplain immediately."

"Okay, thank you-" Ira hangs up before Clea can finish. Really, he should probably thank her for bringing this to his attention, but all he can think about right now is how much worse the pain is getting, and how long it'll be before he can collapse into bed, and the utterly overwhelming thought of being on his feet all day again tomorrow, but this time with a fresh wound.

Forcing himself to struggle back into his robes feels like a monumental task. He doesn't even bother to take off his casual clothes first, he just wants to get this over with quickly and without bending his side, as much as he can avoid it.

He pops a couple of over-the-counter painkillers before he leaves, hoping that'll be enough for now.

[eventhorizoninwriting]

Walk Through Fire

Word Count: 2137

Tags: Fallout 76 Nuclear Winter, All OC characters. Car accident (mention)/bystander caretaker (sort of)/eyes open, almost there

Warnings: Gunshots, blood, needles (stimpak), death/dying mention. If I missed any, please let me know!

@whumperless-whump-event Prompt 2: Does Your Insurance Cover This?

*Late submission, thought I posted it already and it saved to drafts ;-;

“Don’t you dare die on me.” 

Sunny stumbled up the grassy knoll, swaying and sidestepping to avoid the patches that still smoldered in curling ribbons of smoke. Her friend’s limp form slung over her shoulder did naught but unbalance her, but she stubbornly shifted her grip, refusing to drop her despite being wholly unqualified to carry someone like this.

Panting, she reached the crest of the hill. “Look, Sarah. The Responders were here. There’s gotta be something to help. Just hold on–” 

Sarah mumbled something incoherent into Sunny’s back. Another rivulet of blood slid down her arm from her friend’s various wounds, and she lunged forward. Sarah was worsening, and there was nothing she’d been able to do about it. 

Sunny Ramos and Sarah Gill. The two had been thick as thieves in the vault. The engineer’s daughter and the Overseer’s redhead daughter; where one was causing trouble, the other was never far behind…or far ahead. The last six months in the vault had been the most liberating, yet the most stressful, for the pair. This was when vault security neatly looked the other way on their antics, letting them play all the pranks and cause as much of a ruckus as they’d desired. It had been fun, at first, until they’d realized that they were being allowed to get away with things; and then, of course, all the fun was sapped out. That was until Sarah’s father had passed them a note written in code, asking them specifically to continue causing chaos–because it was making it difficult for ZAX, the vault AI, to cause the problems he’d been causing with his ‘tests’. So, the pair had continued on their tirade of pranks and mischief with a new target in mind, and had dropped firecrackers into toilets until the day their first fellow dweller was found dead, presumably by ZAX’s proverbial hand. Sarah’s father had insisted that they evacuate the vault to escape the AI. A number of other dwellers much preferred ZAX’s plan to find a new Overseer–and president–in a literal trial-by-fire.

Now, here they were on the outskirts of the Morgantown airport, racing to outrun both the latest firestorm, and their bloodthirsty peers. Sunny yelped as a section of brush caught fire. The speeding, hot wind caused the flames to lick several feet over the concrete, tasting her ankles. Only so many materials could catch on fire–but that wasn’t saying much when the wind helped it burn the rest. 

“We’re almost there,” Sunny puffed, doing her best to jog towards the airport. 

Sarah’s form began to slip off her shoulder again, blood slicking the leather of the vault suit. Skidding to a stop, Sunny shifted her friend, hauling her back up into her arms in a bridal carry. 

“Not gonna make it,” Sarah breathed, eyeing the flames of the storm with her glassy gaze.

“You will,” Sunny insisted, blowing a blonde lock out of her eyes. 

“Bleedin’ out. Don’t have a stimpak.” 

“Look. If this were still pre-war times,” Sunny began, “we’d be waiting for an ambulance. This’d be just like a car wreck. Remember what your dad used to say when we’d get hurt blowing something up? People survived terrible wrecks and horrific things all the time.” 

Sarah laughed weakly, her voice fading to a croak. “Gunshots n’ car wrecks are different, Sun.” 

“Not when you’re super injured and have to wait for help,” Sunny countered. Her face had gone red from the encroaching heat, which had stayed itself for a moment, and from the strain of her efforts. “C’mon. I bet you would have survived ‘til the ambulance came.”

Carefully lowering Sarah to the ground, she propped her up against the wall beside the airport’s front door and got to work on the lock. The first bobby pin broke, on account of her having looked away for all of five seconds when the windborne flames began to jump the concrete, setting old tents aflame.  The second produced a hopeful click, however, and the glass door swung open. 

“Thought you were gonna break the door,” Sarah wheezed, grinning wryly. 

“I don’t wanna give the storm any more help than it already has.” Once again, Sarah was in her arms, and Sunny sidled through the glass door. She spared just enough time to flip the lock behind her. That wouldn’t stop anyone with the same idea as Sarah, but it would buy time if anyone realized they were inside. 

“Where’d those bitches go? I can’t find the trail.” 

“I think I see more blood over there.” 

“Shit, yeah. Guys, they went this way!”

Sarah and Sunny exchanged wide eyed looks. 

“How the fuck did they find us?” Sarah whispered. 

“It sounds like they followed the blood.” Sunny held Sarah a little tighter, retreating into the darkened hallways of the airport. “I should’ve been more careful, gone through a river or something.” 

“You got me here. Not gonna forget that.” 

“You’d better not. You’d better be around to remember it for a damn long time.” 

Stairs caught Sunny’s eye, and she quickly ducked down them. Glancing back, she saw that the trail of blood had persisted. At least she hadn’t noticed it near the front door any more than the puddle where Sarah had sat. 

The basement was wide and open, with multiple tables that had been repurposed into some sort of lab. The entire place–ceiling, walls, floor–was concrete. Sunny breathed a silent sigh of relief and stumbled to a table. Papers and lab work fluttered and tumbled to the floor as she cleared it with one arm, sliding Sarah onto the table at the same time. They may have been important before, and they might be important to some unknown person in the future, but they didn’t matter in the slightest right now. 

“Stimpak, stimpak…” Sunny muttered, sliding open every drawer and opening every cabinet that caught her eye. “Fuck, this is a medical place, you’d think they’d have a goddamn stimpak–” 

“Did you try the first aid kit?”

Sure enough, there was a first aid kit near the door, untouched. Sarah chuckled quietly as Sunny vaulted over a table to get to it faster. Ripping it open, she stared inside.

“Dirty water and plastic tubing? Are you fucking kidding me? Who puts that in a first aid kit?” 

“Shit,” Sarah laughed. “War never changes, and neither does American healthcare.” 

“I’m gonna throw this at you if you make any more bad jokes.” 

“And I’m going to throw this at you in about two seconds.” 

Both girls jumped, staring towards the door. There stood a boy just a year or two older than them, clad in some bulky armor that didn’t fit him with three rifles strapped to his back. In his hand, he clutched a plasma grenade, thumbing over the pin with an unsettling grin. 

“Billy Maddox,” Sunny spat. “Should’ve known you’d get in with the mean crowd.” 

“Little old me?” he laughed. “Careful, woman. Remember who’s holding the grenade.” 

“Yeah, you,” Sarah retorted. Her voice was all but a whisper now. “After what you did to James’ robot dog last year? I’m surprised he let you run with him.” 

“Robot dogs are replaceable,” he shrugged. “So are bitches.” 

“You know what they say about guys who feel like they need to posture,” Sarah grumbled. She hissed when Sunny elbowed her in the side.

“Oh? What’s that?” Billy’s thumb grazed the pin with a little more pressure. “Go on, tell me. What do they say?”

Click. 

“Really? That’s how you’re gonna play this?”

Sunny stared down the sights of her pistol. “Better than not doing anything.” 

“I could yell right now and have the rest of the guys down here in half a second.” 

“Then why haven’t you yet?”

The color drained from Billy’s face. “Maybe I want to be merciful.” 

“Or maybe they just ditched you.” Sunny elbowed Sarah again for her comment. “What? I’m dyin’ either way.” 

“No you’re not!” Sunny hissed. “And I’m not flirting with the reaper like you are, either.” 

“Are you ladies done arguing?” 

“Maybe. What if we aren’t?” 

Billy opened and closed his mouth, lost for words. 

“Look.” Sunny shifted the barrel, aiming right between Billy’s eyes. “It’s dog eat dog out here, or however that saying goes. You go your way, and if someone is looking for you, we never saw you.”

“Did you forget that I’m with the guys you’d be saying that to? They’d be looking for me to help me.” 

“Did you forget that ZAX wants just one winning candidate?” Sarah spat. “If they find  you, they’ll keep you around til your group are the last ones, and then they’ll turn on you.” 

His eyes widened as if he hadn’t considered that possibility before, and he stopped tracing the pin button of the grenade. “They…they wouldn’t.” 

“Oh, they would.” The barrel of the pistol poised between his eyes didn’t so much as twitch. “They already left you here to clean up the search that they didn’t want to bother with anymore. You’re the disposable one.” 

Billy slowly lowered his arm, grip loosening on the grenade. “If I go out there, I’m dead anyway. Storm’s almost surrounded the area.” 

“Stay here then,” Sarah managed, coughing as much as her wounds would allow. “Don’t hurt us, we won’t hurt you. We all go our separate ways when the storm’s gone. Easy.” 

“But ZAX will know–” 

“How will he know?” Sunny countered. “Take your Pip-Boy off, throw it out in the storm, crush it with a bat, something, and how will he know? He’s not a god.” 

“It feels like it at times.” 

“But he’s not. He’s just some haywire programming. There was even evidence that someone might have been messing with the system and doing those things through him.” Sunny let the pistol drop slightly. “But he’s not out here. We might as well be dead to him. I don’t want to go back to the vault. Sarah doesn’t. Do you?”

“...No.” 

“Then being the last one standing still means nothing. Means nothing if you have no vault to oversee, and it means nothing if you never want to go back.”

“I suppose you’re right.” He set the grenade on the nearest table, raising his palms in surrender instead.

“Alright. Stay or go, Maddox. Up to you. But we don’t want to hurt you.” 

Overhead, the harsh sound of shattering glass drew their attention as the winds of the firestorm blew in the upstairs windows like a hurricane gale. The loud hum of crackling followed after–the fire spreading to every available flammable surface inside.

“Hey, Maddox, what’s taking so long?”

Billy looked back to Sunny. “They came back–” 

“For what, though?” There was no more anger in her voice, softening instead out of pity for him and concern for Sarah, who had become increasingly quiet. “If they think you killed us…” 

“I’ll be dead either way,” he finished. “Either they find me up there and finish me off, or they come down here and kill us all.” 

“I don’t know if they’ll find the stairs–” 

“I did. It wasn’t hard.” Billy was already moving into action, sweeping his dark hair off his forehead as he steeled himself. Reaching into a pocket in his oversized armor, he produced a stimpak, and laid it on the table. “That’s for her. Don’t let her die. I…well, it doesn’t matter now.” 

“You–really?” Sunny nearly burst out laughing. “After how you threatened us? You would have killed her yourself.”

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t have a history, once,” he admitted sheepishly. Drawing one of the rifles from his back, he began to back towards the stairs. “And now I see how I was wrong. Just save her. Please. And when you get out of here…”

A more forceful crash resounded from the room above, and the ceiling shook under the heavy telltale thud-thud-thud of someone walking around in power armor. 

“Just take care of each other,” he finished, before bolting towards the stairs. His steps slowed as he neared the top, acting as if he hadn’t just rushed out of the basement like a bat out of hell. 

Sunny lunged for the stimpak and jabbed it amongst the gunshots in Sarah’s abdomen before Billy ever reached the top of the stairs. Sarah yelped, tensing, but quickly relaxed as the medicine stabilized her wounds. 

“Told you you’d make it,” Sunny promised. Sarah smiled back weakly, barely conscious, but began to doze in her newfound physical safety. 

A series of gunshots erupted upstairs, followed by the heavy steps of the power-armor-clad dweller evacuating the airport before the flames burned through his suit. In her heart, Sunny knew Billy was gone, but she and Sarah were safe for now, and that mattered most. 

She never would have wished for a nuclear winter like this.

[oncemorewithwhump]

Rating: M

“Holy shit.” The man in front of him said.

“What are we gonna do?” the second man asked. “I didn't sign up to mug a G-Man.”

“We finish the job,” came the voice of the third man, and Reid's heart stopped as tears welled up. “He'll turn us in. And I'm not going back. We'll take his cash, but leave his cards. They'll be tracking them.”

–

Reid is mugged on his way home and left for dead.

Notes:

For the @whumperless-whump-event

Prompt: Mugging