#yes—because I’m mentally whumping myself in the process!

[generic-whumperz]

Write story?

No work on crazy world building and spend all day writing a 6 page fake essay-esque info sheet on an imaginary parasitic worm that turns people into crazed cannibals. The lengths I go to for this fucking story and au I stg.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

why does it comfort some people or bring them joy/excitement to imagine their favorite characters in terrible situations and being hurt physically or mentally? wouldn’t you want your favorite characters to be happy and safe?

I’m sure I’ve seen this exact ask being sent to another writing blog before, so seeing one in my own inbox was a little surprising. but anyway, I’ve said this before, but I don’t mind saying it again because lots of people seem to still be confused about this; the enjoyment of imagining or seeing fictional characters in terrible situations in which they are hurt and/or scared is called whump. people who enjoy whump tend to express their interest through art, such as drawings, writings, etc. whump has a community on several online platforms, as well as here on Tumblr. we are simply known as “whump community”.

moving on to your question, “why does it comfort us to imagine our favorite characters in agony?” — there is no definitive answer to the question, because different people enjoy whump for various, different reasons, and all of these reasons are valid. however, what I can give you is some examples of the reasons why people enjoy whump

reasons why people like whump:

some people use whump as a reflection of what they’ve been through, and they let their trauma out by channeling the trauma through fictional characters. to make it as simple as I can, some people use whump as a coping mechanism to help them heal from any traumatic events in their lives.

while whump is indeed about pain, it can also be about the comfort (the healing process) that comes after the pain. I personally known several people who heal by writing whump stories in which their favorite characters went through and survived terrible things that happened to them. the comfort part of the whump was used as a symbol of hope for these people, in the sense that they hold on to the idea that if these fictional characters can survive horrible things that happened to them, they (the writers) can survive and heal too.

some people use whump as a way to let out their frustration, trauma or pain. an abuse victim may fantasize about hurting their abuser back by creating a fantasy world in which their favorite character was hurt, but later healed and/or get their revenge.

it’s also worth mentioning that one doesn’t have go through their own trauma in order to be able to enjoy whump. 

some people like whump where their favorite character is hurt because they just Want to Hurt These Little Guys. 

some people like whump where their favorite character is hurt because they like the part where their favorite character gets comforted and is nursed back to health after they are rescued.

whump that’s followed by comfort (whump with a happy ending) is valid.

whump that has no comfort (whump without a happy ending) is also valid.

because whump is a genre, just like how lots of people like horror movies just for the sake of liking them. 

the term whumperflies is used to describe the euphoric feeling a person experiences while watching, drawing, writing or reading a whump scenario that hits right in the feels. for lack of better comparison, some people experience whumperflies that come close to an orgasm, whether or not whump is a sexual thing to them (some may enjoy whump as a form of kink, while some may enjoy whump for reasons that aren’t sexual at all). for some, whumperflies are these tingling sensation in the chest and/or the stomach, for someone else, whumperflies is like when you ride a rollercoaster and the ride is going down from its highest stop. there's no wrong way to experience whumperflies, as different people describe and experience them differently.

so, yes, some people may enjoy whump just for the euphoria whumperflies bring. and some people — myself included — can’t get whumperflies unless the character that’s going through pain is their most favorite character; it’s like… because you love this character so much, you’re so connected to them, you're so emotionally invested in them that you can only get whumperflies if it’s them going through the torture, meanwhile other characters just don’t make you feel half as strongly.

and that’s explain why people in the whump community prefer their favorite characters to be the ones going through hell.

and again, just like how movies have different genres, whump is a genre — people who like whump aren’t “freaks” or “red flags” in real life, even if they like whump for reasons that aren’t about coping mechanism. whump is a genre and a form of art, and most importantly, whump is fiction. it’s not real.

I do understand why people who aren’t into whump tend to be confused by the concept of whump, and I do understand why these people think being a fan of a fictional character only means wanting said fictional character to be safe and happy, which is why whump is not for everybody, and that’s okay too.

the thing is there is no wrong way to be a fan of something that’s fictional, you can like this fictional character so much you want to see them cry and covered in blood for whatever reasons, and that’s okay. as long as you’re not hurting anybody in real life.

there’s nothing wrong or abnormal about people who enjoy whump, just like how there’s nothing wrong or abnormal about people who like horror movies. it’s fiction and it’s a form of art. and I believe everybody is allowed to express and enjoy their interests through art in whichever way they want, as long as they’re not harming anybody in real life.

[whumpwright]

Howdy, first time writing stuff like this publicly, so I’m gonna speed right through so as to not cause myself inner turmoil.

Just an idea on writing psychological abuse: matching the responses to the character

Yes, I am using myself and my siblings as an example here.

Now, I personally have been kicked out 3 times by the same person AKA my old man. And I’m still living with the dude half time because court order. But I’ve learned some knowledge over the situation now, so there’s a bright side to everything, eh?

Regardless, few facts (remember, based off of personal experience, I can’t help outside of that):

When the Whumper in this situation is drunk, there’s a possibility they’ll constantly be contradicting themself or forgetting things they said almost instantly, switching up, etc. This does not happen for all people ‼️‼️ Some Whumpers might be different

Each whumpee is different. I wasn’t the only one removed from residence, my younger brother was as well. I faced the situation rather too calmly for what it should have been and my brother attempted to fight our father with a metal bat

Adding onto that, the process of psychological whump is different for everyone. And yes, all these example with be based off how me and my siblings reacted.

Some might be overly angry about the whole thing. They’ve maybe been lied to and manipulated for a long time and they’re pissed. They want to relieve the anger. They may retaliate with mocking or screaming matches or even physical disputes. It’s easy to affect the way they act and manipulate them again

Another whumpee might be overly distraught by the whole thing. They might just be a bystander! But golly, that doesn’t stop them from being absolutely messed up. To see someone they care too deeply about cause potential harm to someone else they care about is too much. They may stay silent. They might try and shield the eyes of another party. They may try and change the mind of whumper, desperate for things to be fixed. They might sob their eyes out. They might scream at the top of their lungs, wanting to fix this, but not wanting anyone to get into trouble.

Or maybe your whumpee is almost completely fine. They’re emotionally numb to the whole encounter. Maybe they were playing clown tricks not a minute ago. But they’re being hurt mentally and they know. They don’t care enough. They just leave calmly and do what they’ve been told to do.

Your whumpees shouldn’t all act the same. They need character. They need a personalized reaction to the situation. Have they seen this before? Have they been in this situation before? Are they new to this? How does that affect their way of acting?

What do your Whumpers say to manipulate the whumpee?

Maybe one whumpee is showered in praise. A golden child. They’re such a kind soul, who’s being tainted like sallowing newspapers. Maybe they pull away from everyone else that they were close to. They’re more aggressive to others, more defensive, more secretive. They want- no, NEED this praise

Maybe your whumpee is a scapegoat. Something to be cast aside. A copy of a past whumpee. So naive and hopeless. They want what the other has, they want better, they’ll do anything to prove they’re better. And then there comes a moment they know it’s hopeless.

Most people write long dramatic speeches or yelling matches where the whumpee realizes it’s hopeless. They need it explained to them. When all it takes is one sentence. You know what my father said about me, when he assumed me to have already fled? That I wasn’t listening.

��She’s like her mother. She’ll come crawling back later.”

That’s all it takes. One small sentence and you know. It’s hopeless. To be compared to another who you look up to, but they’re compared to absolute garbage.

So do it. Break them. Make them feel hopeless. Make them know that from now on, there’s no going back in your mind. Those words won’t leave.

[angst-is-love-angst-is-life]

In regards to Talk Shop Tuesday, what projects are you currently working on?

Thanks for asking! I have a lot, so please bear with me here

Well there’s ofc Trophy; the fic where Zoom wins that no one wanted but me :> I also have a few AUs for that but probably won’t post them because they’re usually just 3 am writing sessions that aren’t very polished.

Got my Coldflash royalty AU where Barry’s the {former ?} prince of a kingdom that had just been overthrown by Eobard Thawne and Len’s the son of a former Royal Guard captain but wants to stay as far away from that legacy as possible. Their paths converge when Len is invited to an event celebrating the new king’s victory where poor Barry, chained beside Thawne’s throne, is used as a sort of trophy. Len doesn’t truly know yet; but his life will never be the same. Whelp— idk why I got all dramatic but that’s the beginning/premise lol

“For every One you didn’t save” is going to be rough for Barry… (I say, as if any of them aren’t. BUT this one is going to be particularly awful for his mental health). Our favorite awful bastard Eobard Thawne will fulfill the whumper role and I think that’s all I need to say. Need to work on this more ngl

“one thing” Mm. Another one with Eobard as The Worst. Honestly I’m not even sure if this would be considered whump— it’s just. Hmm. I tried to rewrite a certain scene in Coex and something happened that I Did Not mean to happen.

Get whumped idiot (placeholder title). Coldflash fic where Barry’s kidnapped as a sort of guest of honor at a fun little party for all the worst criminals in Central City. I really really need to revisit this soon cause it’s been a bit.

Enemy of my Enemyyyyyy we gotta start tormenting Barry next chapter and I WILL— I swear—

Ah yes. The Thawne kidnaps Barry instead of Eddie AU. Instead of using him to get back to his time, Thawne decides to use the blood sample from Farooq and steals Barry’s speed. Well. The process of stealing said speed is estimated to take around a week so Barry’s time is running out fast while the team desperately tries to find him. Will they get to him in time or find Barry just too late? Knowing me, it could go either way :)

Courtesy of @shrinkthisviolet I now have a ‘Savitar kidnaps and impersonates Barry’ AU that is marinating atm but has part of a scene written and an outline in progress.

Lastly, I won’t be talking about it much because I do have some rules to keep myself from spreading too thin; and one of them is only one big project at a time. But I’ve been planning a Hurt/Comfort Flash longfic (estimated 40k; probably more) for a while now. I will be talking about it —after I finish Trophy— because I have been c o o k i n g . It’s what I like to call slow burn whump. It will take a bit to get to the whump but BOY WILL IT BE WORTH IT. And this one is specifically whump aftermath (with some flashbacks to the whump). I literally can’t wait— but first, I must finish Trophy. (I do pick favorites and Trophy is #1 while this is #2)

Talk Shop Tuesday

[newbornwhumperfly]

Hello! Just curious, but what did you mean with the tag about how the community tends to be escapism focused?

hello, anon! thx so much for the question - i hope you don’t mind if i ramble cause i have a lot of thoughts on this! <3

what i meant by my tag - that the whump community tends to be “escapism focused” - is that the very format of whump allows for quick satisfaction, low effort. this is by no means to diminish the efforts of all the creators in this community! and i also understand that the original post was exploring the comforting distance involved in writing things that “escape” from the painful realities of the non-thump world. 

what i see as the main appeal of whump - as a genre and a community - is that we all sort of...know what we’re here for? we know we’re here for pain and suffering of all flavors and intensities. we know we’re here to hurt some people! there’s this one great post which talked about how the best thing about whump is that you don’t need to worry about world-building or backstory or character development because we all we want is pain. 

i believe there’s a ton of validity to that! it’s why tagging exists, it’s why these selective filtering categories exist - so we can get what we came for! this is true in “regular” fandom communities and your average fanfiction as well. however! i also see how many popular whump bloggers on here have long-running series and richly developed characters - as well as delving into important, sensitive issues (usually having to do with trauma and mental illness, but not exclusively!) in the process.

however! as i have read many fans - particularly fans of color - in various fandoms i am a part of speak openly about how escapism - more specifically, who gets to “escape” into fandom - is a privilege. and...like...it is? it really is! 

whump is not some magical bubble that is insulated from all of the privileges and prejudices we carry into “regular” fandoms - therefore, we are not immune from questioning our “tastes” in whumpees or whumpers, just as we aren’t immune to criticism about our fandom “preferences” in more conventional online communities. we aren’t immune to writing insensitive, prejudiced depictions of people of color, of queer people, of disabled folk, of neurodivergent folk, etc. just because it’s “just whump”.

therefore - it’s even more important to be aware of our actions, yes, even our self-indulgent ones. this happens to be a primary concern of mine because my whump tends to have very...non-white casts and i am a white writer! i also love being self-indulgent and i am very sympathetic to the mindset that i just wanna turn off my brain and hurt some whumpees!

i just believe it’s possible to be self-indulgent and self-critical at the same time - whump is not different from fandom fanfiction and fanfic isn’t different from traditional modes of writing in terms of perpetuating stereotypes or feeding into harmful depictions of marginalized/vulnerable people. 

a trashy horror movie where “i’m just here for the gore!” where the scares are based on ableism might be self-indulgent but that doesn’t mean we don’t need to be aware of how it impacts us and our perspectives. yes, i think distance is desirable! i think projection onto a “safe” target is cathartic and necessary for many people - myself included. 

i just think there needs to be room in this conversation about the ways in which escapism can manifest as an empathy gap, as an expression of prejudice, feeding into a painful trope, etc. it doesn’t mean we can’t write what we want.

i just believe that in a community where escapism is the primary appeal? it’s important to analyze even our indulgences in the context that nothing - no, not even whump - exists in a vacuum. 

but that’s, just, like....my opinion. xppp 

thank you so much for the question on...a truly complex subject, i appreciate it! (please forgive the rambling)

[icypantherwrites]

Changes Coming to Patreon; Back to AO3 Icy Goes

An abbreviated and slightly different version of a post I made on my Patreon this evening:

Several months ago I made the announcement that I was switching my main platform from AO3 to exclusively post my works on Patreon. I had hoped it would help with some of my mental health issues with the reasoning that Patreon was a platform with a smaller, dedicated audience and would be better than posting into the great unknown and feeling let down by the sheer number of hits but no sightings of the people behind them.

Unfortunately, this decision has not panned out the way I had hoped. To be completely honest, I feel even worse than I ever have before. I truly thought this switch would encourage more engagement from those that were on my Patreon given that everyone now had that exclusive access and knowing that they'd want to be involved and that I'd be okay with knowing only a literal handful of people might be reading. That has not been the case. And to be clear, that's on me for having those hopes and expectations because certainly no one at my Patreon is required to engage with my works; you pay a subscription fee each month, you get content, and more always comes. And I will certainly continue to post those works that Patreon supporters paid for and expect to see under the original outline of my Patreon, but at this time...

At this time I've made the decision to return to posting on AO3 and no longer make that content exclusive to Patreon.

Any of the exclusive one-shots that did post here will remain, but I'll be adding them to my AO3 archive as well and the chaptered fics will only be posting for early release tiers on Patreon going forward, not posting later for all tiers. They will all instead be made available on my AO3 and just like before you are welcome to read them there. To be clear: none of your access to content is changing. You will still be able to read all of my stories, but they will no longer exclusively be on Patreon.

It is really hard for me to post works (and yes, I know they are all finished, it's still hard). It is hard to post in the author's notes and ask for comments and engagement because it is not fun to post and feel like hardly anyone is reading, and harder still when very few do because it just tells me that the majority of people either don't read those requests or they ignore them. Both don't feel good. And doubly so when you consider the majority of my content is about support. Ironic, right? ;p

Just like when I made this original decision, I didn't come to this one lightly. After all, there was a reason I decided to step away from AO3. But trying to bribe y'all with extra content via engagement hasn't worked. I've actually had 7 people in the two months that I made this switch join the page and quit within a couple days (sometimes a couple hours), accessing all content (and no doubt spurred on by the sheer amount behind a paywall) and that's a slap in the face to me and makes me feel even worse. And I certainly don't want to turn my works into a pay-per-view where I open a shop and sell PDF copies of individual works because the money has never, ever, been what the Patreon has been about. The finances help me to justify spending the time writing the works to keep this page active and going, but the whole reason I created a Patreon was to have an engaged, local community where I could be myself a little bit more, be a little more honest than I normally allow myself to be, and to share exclusive works with all those who made that decision to come here and financially support me with the hope that would extend to mental and emotional support via engagement on the site ♥

There are over 100 people on my Patreon and on average not even 10% make an appearance. It feels like I am posting and posting and hardly anyone is reading and the whole point of posting works is to share them because fandom is something that is meant to be shared. It's an experience for us all, whether we're creators or consumers, and we cannot exist without the other. It's a circle of fanfiction.

AO3 wasn't the best for me mentally. But the alternative I decided to pursue has unfortunately been even worse. And yet I still can't help but want to share my creations, want to make those connections, want people to laugh and cry and find comfort and support and experience emotions or feelings they may never had had, to learn and grow, to just enjoy the whump and angst and find a little escape sometimes from reality. Writing has been so important to me, it's what has kept me going through some very low times although it's catch-22 as the posting part of that process can make me feel lower than when I started. But I push through and hope that things get better, always.

Planning out this Patreon has meant so much to me. Writing stories for it, setting up polls, getting to create cover banners, write commissions, and, most importantly, interact with all of you... it has kept me going. And in order for me to not hate this page, to not delete it, to not call it quits, I need to make this switch back to AO3 and the chance for a larger audience. And I truly hope you can understand why I am doing this. I truly hope that even though the vast amount of my works will now be technically "free" that you still remain a member of my Patreon as those "free" works are only possible due to this site. 

And to anyone reading this now on my Tumblr, please read the above. I only continue to post because of the financial support on my Patreon. There is now going to be a burst of content posting on my AO3 and lots more to come, but please don’t ever think that this is “free” because it was not free. 

And this isn’t to tell you to go join my Patreon (although if you’d like to, please feel free) but to remind you that it costs nothing to leave a comment on a story that you read and that doing so means everything to the creator. Please don’t see this change as just an endless buffet of fanfiction to consume. Please see it as what it is: a chance to engage, to be a part of a fandom, and to support a creator whether that’s financially emotionally or both. 

A gentle reminder that Patreon on the whole was never meant to be just a "how much can you get" type of site, but a way to show your support to creators you enjoy with little bonuses as incentives to check out higher pledged tiers and to stick around so the creator keeps wanting to make more content to share. This page will still have all the bonuses it has always had: the FMs, the previews and bonus snippets, the ability to commission, and, in the event they happen, all of the events and contests :) 

I'm sad that this change didn't work out the way I had hoped, but there's no such things as failures; it has been a learning experience. Thank you all for your patience with me as I muddle through this and try to make the best choices for my own mental health ♥ Thank you to all for your financial support of this Patreon that allows me to keep writing and thank you so much to all those who comment and engage and inspire me to keep writing ♥

Much love,

Icy

[gumnut-logic]

Gentle Rain

Title: Gentle Rain

Warm Rain Series

Part One

Author: Gumnut

14-15 Jan 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: Sometimes it is so gentle, you don’t realise it is happening.

Word count:

Spoilers & warnings: Virgil/Kayo, Scott/OC, spoilers for Warm Rain up to this point in the timeline.

Timeline: After ‘The Proposal’ and before ‘Goodbye’.

Author’s note: This fic sprouted from two directions. The first was from a prompt by @scribbles97 who wanted some Scott whump, but shortly after that there was a discussion about poor Scott’s love life, so an OC has been born into Warm Rain. I hope you like her. Thank you to all my wonderful readers and supporters who continue to help me create more and more stories. I’m having the time of my life, you guys are wonderful :D

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

“For the love of god, will you bloody well sit still!”

Kayo frowned.

“I need to-“ Scott. That was Scott.

“If you don’t stop moving, I will knock you out, you hear me?” It was a threatening tone. Kayo attempted to force her eyes open. They moved, but flickered closed again.

“Please, she’s my sister.” That sent alarm bells ringing. What the hell? Scott’s voice hurt. “Virgil...” Virgil! She struggled against the weight drawing her down. Virgil? Where was Virgil?

There was dust in her nose.

“Your sister is okay. It is you who you should be worried about. Sit still.”

“But-“

“What do you think your sister will do to you if you haemorrhage attempting to get to her? What do you think she will do if you go and die on her simply because you’re being a stupid ass and won’t sit still?

There was no answer. Scott? Virgil?

Her eyes opened only to encounter blur. Grey blur. “S-Scott?” That was her voice?

“Kayo!”

“God damnit, if you undo what little I’ve managed to do, I’ll kill you myself!”

That had Kayo moving before she could think. She sat up abruptly and her reward was a spinning vertigo and spikes of pain through her head, her back, her legs. She groaned, her stomach crawling up her oesophagus.

She swallowed desperately and only just managed to keep whatever she last ate where it was supposed to be.

“Keep yourself calm. You have a concussion.”

Her voice was parched. “No kidding.” Her eyesight was wobbly, blurry and grey. “Where are we?”

“Basement of Kenny’s Hotel, King’s Park.”

That made her blink. “Where?”

The voice sighed. “Perth, Western Australia. I guess you guys could find yourself anywhere on the planet at any time. You were here to help with a landslide.”

Landslide? In Perth? She frowned. Her memory was a mess. Only one name and one face kept resurfacing. “Virgil? Where is Virgil?” She reached for her kit, feeling for one of those light sticks her fiancé demanded she carry. There was the crack of broken seals and the blur glowed green.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know who Virgil is, much less where he is. Only you, your brother Scott and myself are privileged to be caught in this hole.”

She frowned again, looking towards the voice. The green blur cleared a little, leaving shapes. “Scott?”

“Here, Kayo.” He didn’t sound too good. “Contact Virgil.”

Contact Virgil...yes. She hit her comms. Nothing happened.

She hit them again. “Virgil? John? Thunderbird Five?” No confirmation of an open line, no crackle of transmission. Nothing.

She ran her hand over her face, willing her thoughts to clear and the pounding to stop. Where was her helmet? A moment of discovery found it beside her on broken floorboards. How?

Calm. Now was not the time to lose control. If Virgil was okay, he would find them. If he wasn’t, she would find him. Concentrate.

Using years of mental discipline, she pulled herself into focus, desperately compartmentalising, shunting pain away, grabbing for control. She was needed. No time for weakness.

It helped. It forced more clarity. Her eyesight wasn’t much better, but it improved a little. The woman had dark hair and was lying beside her brother. Scott’s shape was crumpled on his side. He was staring at her.

They were in a hole, literally. Broken masonry and brickwork surrounded them, but they were in a clear spot created by a massive concrete beam above them capturing all the debris and leaving the open space that had obviously saved their lives.

“Scott, status?”

She knew the answer wouldn’t be good. She dreaded it.

“Er...” He didn’t want to tell her, it was obvious.

The woman answered for him. “Perforated abdominal cavity, broken ribs, arm and leg.”

“Your bedside manner sucks.” He snarled at her.

“Put yourself in a bed and it might improve. But for the moment, stop moving, stop talking, keep living. Be damned if I let you die on my watch.”

“As I said, it sucks.”

“Who are you?” Kayo blinked desperately trying to clear her vision. This could be a security situation.

“Em Harris. Doctor Em Harris. I’m supposed to be on vacation, but the hillside decided it wanted to fall on people. Tried to help, then this hotel decided to join the party.”

Kayo took what she needed from that and discarded the rest. “Your medical status?”

“Severe lacerations to my legs, possibly a cracked rib, bruising and a knock to the head. I’ve bound the bleeders as best I can.” There was hesitation. “I may need some assistance with that.” Another pause. “How’s your eyesight?”

“Not great.”

“Give it some time.” The hiss of an exhaled breath. “What about the rest of you? I didn’t see anything, but...”

Kayo did a quick mental check of herself. Her thought processes were definitely getting clearer. Everything was aching, but bruising was the likely culprit. She arched her back, argh, nasty bruising. She must have fallen some distance, the timber beneath them probably saved her. “Nothing serious.”

Silence fell for a moment and the lack of sound was oppressive.

“Did you want me to check your legs?” She had eyes on Scott, but from what she could see, which was admittedly blurry, the doctor had done everything she said. His arm was splinted to his body, his legs tied together, and cloth was wrapped around the obvious wooden cause of the damage to his side. Kayo was running scenarios through her head and none of them were good. They needed to get out of here. But lives first and the woman had shown her only hesitation at the mention of herself.

Not waiting for an answer, she shuffled her way over to the pair, a hand landing briefly on Scott’s fingers, her heart twinging at the sight of darkness staining his uniform. Iron control kept her in check, thoughts briefly flickering to Virgil shunted away.

The woman, Doctor Harris, was lying alongside her brother, the green light making her look sickly. Her legs were sprawled carelessly, the material of her pants shredded. There was that same darkness seeping through. Kayo bit her lip. Torn pieces of clothing, presumably her jacket and part of her shirt were wrapped in strategic places.

This hadn’t happened where she was lying. It couldn’t have. Kayo frowned lighting up a trail of darkness leading into the rubble. God. “What did you do?”

The woman looked up at her. “What was necessary.”

How was she conscious? Grabbing the remains of the woman’s jacket, she pulled out the small laser cutter that her fiancé also had on his list of must carry, and sliced up some more quick bandages and began first aid on the woman’s legs.

Halfway through the first wrapping, the doctor reached down and touched her hand. “I can’t feel it. Haven’t been able to for a long time. You’re not hurting me.” And she pointed to a half-crushed piece of equipment lying amongst the rubble.

A hover chair.

Kayo caught her eyes for a moment, but then hurried on to prevent the woman from slowly bleeding to death, whether she could feel it or not.

In the end, the IR operative managed to conserve enough material to bind the doctor’s legs together and immobilise them completely.

The woman smiled briefly, her fingers going once again to Scott’s pulse. Her brother mumbled something and Kayo slid herself around so he could see her.

His eyelids were drooping, but he was fighting to keep them open. “K, sorry.”

She rolled her eyes. “For what? This isn’t the first time a building has fallen on either of us.”

“Virgil’s gonna be pissed.”

“Oh, yes.” She smiled, ignoring the fact she didn’t know his location or status. “The building is going to get it good. He is going to kick its ass.”

Scott smiled, an exhale of a laugh crumpling into a grimace. “Wish he’d get on with it.”

She reached out and gently cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing away a single pain-filled tear.

Then as if in telepathic answer, there was a roar of machinery, followed by the familiar whine of her fiancé’s exo-suit in action.

The satisfying grind of shifting brickwork and finally his voice. She loved his voice at any time, but right now, she had to admit it was the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Kay?! Scott?! Can you hear me?”

“Virgil!” His name danced from her lips.

“Kay! Oh thank god.” More sounds of shattering brickwork. His breathing as he worked echoed over his external comms. “Status?”

“Three of us. Civilian. Female. Lacerated legs. Moderate bleeding.” She caught the doctor’s eyes. “Medical history of paraplegia.” She took a breath. “Scott.” She looked down at her brother. Still fighting to stay conscious. “Conscious but injured. Broken arm, leg, ribs and perforated abdominal cavity.” It hurt just to say it.

“Copy that.” Something outside crashed with attitude. “And you?”

“Concussion and simple bruising.” A pause. “I’m okay.” Love, I’m okay.

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. There was another crash and a grunt. Light flickered around them through gaps in the rubble. Moments later, her fiancé tore through the last of the brickwork, his hydraulics wheezing as his chest heaved, his eyes darting between her and his brother.

Gordon and Alan broke the tableau by dashing in from behind him, a backboard and kit each, followed by local paramedics. There was a flurry of medical assessment, Scott attempting to yell, Doctor Harris equally yelling at him to shut up and keep still. Gordon taking charge and setting his eldest brother straight in the sharpest tones possible, enough to have everyone staring at him for a matter of seconds.

“Way to go, Gords.” Alan muttered the words, but was focussed on the doctor, busy securing her to the backboard.

Kayo struggled to her feet, ignoring the attention of the paramedic attempting to keep her down. Her body creaked as she walked over to Virgil. His eyes were on her, then on Scott, on her again, his chest still heaving from his exertions. She knew he was moments away from shedding the exo-suit and diving into help.

She put her hand onto his chest and felt his heart pounding through several layers of uniform and her glove. “He will be alright.” He had to be.

Then Gordon and the paramedics were racing past them out into the Australian summer sun, the blue of the sky denying the weeks of unseasonal rain that had caused the landslide in the first place. Alan followed shortly after with the doctor spouting off Scott’s condition even while being carted off herself.

She shook off the paramedic who accosted her again, and suddenly they were alone.

One arm slipped out of the exo-suit and she was suddenly in a crushing hug, her bruises protesting. He didn’t say anything.

He didn’t need to.

It was one self-indulgent moment and then he let her go. His voice was deep and hoarse. ‘Let’s get you checked out.” His hydraulics wheezed as he slipped his arm back into the suit and gestured her forward.

She blinked at the sunlight piercing her eyes, but straightened and walked out from under the building.

-o-o-o-

End Part One.

Part Two