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chaotic-orphan · 3 months

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Febuwhump: Day Twelve

Prompt — semi-conscious (from @febuwhump calendar)

TW: semi-conscious weak Whumpee, medwhump, medical Whump, injured Whumpee, stab wound, blood, description of poisoned wound, poison, bad realistic writing of medical stuff (I’m not a doctor), needles/syringes mentioned, medicine mentioned, in vitro means of administering medicine(If I missed any tags please lmk, I know people are squidgy about medwhump so general warning)

*~*~*~*~*

Youngest bursting through the door was the first warning Doctor got that there was a problem. Medic was next through the doors to the medbay, holding it open for Right hand and Rogue who carried between them a semi-conscious Leader.

“This bed,” Doctor said immediately. He stood, taking his glasses off and rolling up his sleeves as Rogue and Right Hand lifted Leader between them and placed him carefully on the bed. “What happened?”

“He just collapsed at the door,” Youngest said, their voice high pitched.

Doctor’s eyes cut to Medic’s who was doing a good job of trying to ignore their stare. “How didn’t you notice this?”

“Do you?” Medic snapped, running a hand through their hair. “He obviously hid it from us!”

“Fine. I’ll deal with it. I need you to clear the room.”

“I can help,” Medic protested but didn’t speak further at the withering look Doctor sent them.

“You can see to the rest of your teammates and make sure none of them are likely to collapse in the next ten minutes.”

“Hey,” Right Hand said tightly. “This isn’t Medic’s fault. You know how stubborn Leader is.”

“All the more reason to be extra vigilant.”

“You being a dick isn’t exactly helping Leader, Doctor,” said Rogue, baring her teeth at him.

“Clear the room,” said Doctor. “I don’t need everyone’s snide comments while I work.”

There was a few more grumbles before the teammates left the room one by one. Right Hand pushing Medic and Rogue out before they punched Doctor before he helped Leader. Youngest was the last to leave, sending worried looks at Leader and nodding at Doctor before leaving.

Doctor straightened and got to removing Leader’s combat gear. “Leader? Can you hear me?”

“Ung,” Leader hummed in what Doctor could only assume was a yes.

“Do you know where it hurts? Can you tell me what happened?”

“Hot… hot, pain, fell..” he mumbled incoherently. Doctor clicked his tongue against his teeth as he got down to Leader’s undershirt that had a stain of blood slowly growing.

“Hot?” Doctor asked. “As in burn? Burning pain?”

“Mind… fire,” Leader supplied and Doctor hummed. He lifted the shirt to see a small knife wound, about two inches in diameter that was the cause of Leader’s pain.

“I need to clean it, Leader,” said Doctor, turning to grab the rubbing alcohol and cotton pads. He doused the pads in alcohol and said quickly: “alright. I’m going to do it now.”

Leader whined out through gritted teeth, grabbing at Doctor’s wrist to stop him as Doctor rubbed the wound, searching for the incision. “There you go, Leader, almost done.”

Between the wipes over the wound Doctor noted the purple hue surrounding the knife wound. He hummed to himself thoughtfully.

“Mind… fire,” Leader grumbled pathetically. “Burn, please ugh… burn.”

“I have some good news and bad news, Leader,” said Doctor. Leader’s pain filled eyes met Doctor’s and Doctor smiled reassuringly down at him. “You’re not going to die.”

Doctor left Leader’s sight as he crossed the room to the medicine cabinet containing all the antidotes to common poisons and other drugs that affect the system. When Doctor turned they saw Leader turned over, trying to push themselves into a sitting position. Doctor would have smiled at the sheer force of will if it didn’t endanger Leader in that moment.

Doctor came back with a bottle and syringe which he placed next to the tourniquet on the table beside Leader’s bed before gently pushing Leader back into a lying position.

“I know exactly why your mind is on fire,” Doctor continued. “It’s Venom’s blade which you will be happy to know we have the antidote for.”

“…tthha.. hnk… Doh.. ct—”

“Hush, Leader. You need to save your strength. That’s the good news,” Doctor said, cutting Leader off. Leader’s bleary eyes opened slightly in question. Doctor had to contain his smile for the next part as he drew the liquid from the bottle into the syringe.

“Baad—”

“Yes. Bad news next,” said Doctor lightly, grabbing a tourniquet from the table next to Leader’s bed. Doctor attached the tourniquet to Leader’s arm, just above the elbow and put his hand around Leader’s, forcing him to make a fist to find a vein.

“Supervillain needs you out of commission for the next part of his plan,” said Doctor conversationally, letting go of Leader’s hand once he had found a vein.

Leader blinked bleary up at Doctor, his eyebrows furrowing deep. “Wh— what?”

Doctor smiled down at Leader. He put the back of his hand on the back of Leader’s forehead. “Hmm, look at you, Leader. You’re so out of it.”

Leader lifted a lifeless hand to bat at Doctor’s hand. “Nn- funny…”

Doctor grabbed Leader’s wrist in a tight, strong grip and placed it back by Leader’s side. With his other he laced it through Leader’s hair, brushing the sweaty strands from his forehead.

“Look at you. You’re so sweet and docile like this, if you weren’t so good at your job we wouldn’t have to intervene like this, y’know.”

“Doc..” Leader whimpered then let out a loud groan of pain and turned away from Doctor’s hand on his forehead.

“Hush now, Leader. You did exactly what we wanted you to do. I’ll tell your teammates that I can’t determine the cause and that you’ll have to sweat out the poison for a few days under my excellent, watchful care.”

Leader tried to roll away from Doctor but Doctor didn’t let Leader so much as twitch away from him. He caught Leader’s chin between his thumb and index finger with a sharp smile.

“You have done beautifully. Now rest up, when you wake the world will need someone like you.”

Leader’s eyes narrowed into a glare. A pathetic glare, but a glare nonetheless. “Team… stop you,” he said with a heavy breath.

Doctor’s smile turned sweeter. “You’d best hope for their sake they don’t try,” said Doctor as he let go of Leader and got the syringe, flicking the tip of it.

“Now, you’ll just go for a small nap Leader. It should aid with recovery.”

Leader had barely strangled “N” out of his mouth before he felt the needle pinch into his arm. He hissed, shaking his head miserably as he used his free hand to push Doctor away.

Doctor smiled at his pathetic attempts to stop Doctor from injecting him with anything now that his intentions were revealed. On a good day, well, any other day Leader would have been able to dominate Doctor physically, but physiological wise, Doctor would always win.

Doctor pulled the needle out and undid the tourniquet as he watched Leader’s eyelids fall heavy over his eyes. The barest flashes of Leader’s eyes told Doctor that Leader was trying to fight sleep.

Doctor grinned down at him. “Go on, Leader. Fight it as long as you can, I’ll be here, ready to administer another dose if necessary.”

Leader’s eyes finally closed and his grip on Doctor’s arm loosened then fell to the bed with an unceremonious flop. Doctor returned the bottle of anestesia to the medicine cabinet, locking it again with his key. Months of undercover work and finally Supervillain was ready to make a move. Doctor smiled at his reflection in the cabinet glass.

Time to go sell Leader’s mysterious illness to the team.

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whump-kia · 10 months

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there's always a healthy dose of fear to the hands of a medic. do what you can and know every step can ruin what life they have left; your hands are stained with blood that isn't yours and somehow that's worse; there's a cruelty to modern medicine and it's in the anesthetics and needles and the poker you've got in the fire, just in case; you can help, but honey, it'll hurt before it heals.

#medics #doctor whump #medical whump #anesthetic #drugging mention #tw drugging #cauterization #whump #whumpblr #whump prompt #whump community

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montammil · 10 months

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Whump - clinical trials

TW: Medical whump, doctor whumper, drug trials, surgical trials, psychological trials, gaslighting, manipulation, carewhumper doctor (for surgical trial part), creepy Whumper

Whumpee is in a desperate financial situation, so they decide to volunteer for some clinical/medical trials. The riskier and longer, the more money, so they think it’s worth it, only to realize they’re wrong too late.

BUT what kind of clinical trials would they do?

Imagine drug trials. Whumper intentionally giving them too many, hurting them, threatening them, teasing them, because no one will believe Whumpee, it’s just the drugs. And Whumper will often make it clear Whumpee is too delirious to go home, but they so kindly offer to keep watch of them for the night, much to Whumpee’s horror.

Imagine behavioral/psychological trials. But it’s much darker than it is in reality. Whumpee thinks everything will be fine, just some psychotherapy and behavioral interventions, but it’s anything but that. They didn’t read over the contract, and basically just volunteered to be put through various methods of psychological torture.

Imagine surgical trials. Maybe Whumpee has some kind of condition that has no known cure and it’s a last resort, or maybe Whumpee isn’t even human and is volunteering to be a guinea pig for the large amounts of money. Whumper ends up taking a liking to Whumpee, and Whumpee also fails to read through the entire contract. So Whumper purposefully makes the surgeries more painful and invasive, loving the dependence Whumpee has on them.

And Whumpee is none the wiser, thinking Whumper is just a good person trying to help them out. When Whumper makes up more reasons why surgeries need to be preformed, Whumpee doesn’t question it. When Whumper makes Whumpee’s state worse than when they came in, Whumpee believes it’s all part of the process.

...and when Whumpee starts questioning everything, Whumper decides it’s time to move onto more permanent surgeries, not wanting to risk losing their dependence on them.

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quietly-by-myself · 1 year

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Shadow By My Fireplace - Chapter 29

Masterlist

In which, Cyril breaks down.

Thank you as usual to @darkthingshappen for beta reading. You're amazing.

CW: drug/alcohol addiction (opioids), opioids, overdose and death due to overdose, hospital setting, chronic illness, panic attack, caretaker has a breakdown, hospital whump, mass shooting mention, minor character death, brief suicide mention, emeto

===

One of the questions Cyril would have never been able to answer clearly was simple. What would happen if somebody he loved walked into the emergency department, dying?

Of course, there was always another doctor on call for that very reason. Nobody could act objectively.

Well.

That was the ideal. Sometimes, it happened, in those smaller, less equipped hospitals, the more rural ones that Cyril found himself working at, that doctors were alone to manage an entire emergency department. Sometimes, the other attending called out sick. Sometimes, the residents just quit. Hours were longer in rural hospitals. The patients were sicker, poorer, more in need.

In cities, perhaps doctors were praised. In rural medicine, Cyril was lucky to see a patient before they cut their own melanoma off. A backache in the rural emergency department was never just a backache.

That night that haunted Cyril every night was a particularly bloody one, but not because of a gang turf war or mass nightclub shooting like in the cities.

No, the plague of the country was far less dramatic: oxycodone.

Well, oxycodone was how it all started, at least. It was like a hydra. Once the doctor who’d been paid to overprescribe left, the problem sprouted two more heads. Cyril remembered in high school when only a few people knew the word “oxycodone.” Now, everyone knew it, along with heroin, codeine, and fentanyl.

All it took was one miscalculation and Cyril would be working twenty-four hours on his feet, fighting to save life after life that just didn’t get Narcan in time.

They had a word for it.

Oxycuted.

Cyril never thought it would be someone he knew.

However, that night, when a bad batch had found its way into town, everything changed.

The attending was down with the flu. They only had one resident on staff. Cyril’s eyes were red from a lack of sleep and far too many caffeine pills.

He wanted to go outside to smoke. However, there were far too many people pouring in, mothers with sons and sons with sisters.

Everything in Cyril’s world fell apart when the stretcher with paramedics came rushing in the back.

“Code Blue. Code Blue.”

Cyril froze. He recognized the face.

Oliver.

Oliver. The one he’d grown up with. The one he’d had his first cig with. The one that had asked him to start a band when he knew what little talent he had.

Oliver. His best friend.

What little food Cyril had managed to fit in between patients immediately came up. One of the nurses rushed over to him as he huddled over one of the hallway trash cans.

“Dr. Galanos, are you okay?”

Cyril shook his head. “It’s Oliver. Oliver Marchmont.”

The nurse looked at him sadly. “Dr. Galanos, you’re the only doctor here tonight. I’ll call Dr. Tharby to see if he can come in.”

Cyril knew what that meant. He stood up, accepting the paper-thin tissue that the nurse gave him.

As Cyril had to test Oliver’s reflexes to ensure his death after thirty minutes of trying to save him, the moment of peace they held for him didn’t feel real.

However, when Cyril had to see Oliver’s mother, tell her that her baby boy was dead, he couldn’t take it anymore. Holding her in his arms as she cried and cried and cried was too much for Cyril.

That night, he cried as he smoked his last cigarette. Cyril never cried. But, that night, he nearly jumped off a bridge from the depths of his sorrow. He felt like an awful person. Why was he the one who had to tell that woman, the one who was practically a second mother to him?

He would never return to the hospital.

In fact, after a few months, he never returned to medicine at all.

The farther he was from the hospital, the better. So, he moved where there wasn’t one for thirty miles.

His little cabin in the woods.

—

Sacha awoke during the night in pain. It wasn’t out of the ordinary, exactly. Sacha had lived most of his life since Master bought him in pain. Even then, five months after Master’s death, Sacha was still in pain.

Cyril had explained that it was likely permanent. Nerve damage, he’d called it. Pain from injuries that never healed correctly, too. Those years of medical neglect and endless tortures had taken its toll on Sacha’s body: neuropathy, migraines, essential tremor, tinnitus, vasovagal syncope, and a lot of other diagnoses that he didn’t care to remember.

Luckily, Cyril wasn’t Master. He gave Sacha medical care. He gave Sacha medicine. A pill of acetaminophen and a pill of ibuprofen did the trick most of the time. Cyril had offered to try to get him on longer-term treatment, but Sacha didn’t like taking pills. He’d take medicine when he needed it.

That night, the pain was bad enough that he decided on two acetaminophen and one ibuprofen.

He rummaged through the bottles in the medicine cabinet and pulled out what he thought were the bottles he needed.

As he laid his head down, Sacha felt especially sleepy. The pain was going away in a different way than usual. Sacha almost recognized it, but the medicine was also taking away any worry that he might have.

Before long, Sacha’s head hit the pillow and his eyes closed.

—

Cyril awoke with a start. Nightmares of the time before his cabin in the woods, that time before Sacha, had plagued him recently.

He was getting awfully tired of seeing dead bodies in his sleep. He was tired of seeing their lifeless eyes and their bleeding bodies. In some ways, his experience with Sacha had triggered it all to come back. He’d stopped practicing medicine because he didn’t feel like he was actually saving people. Now, in order to save someone who genuinely needed it, he had to practice again.

Did Cyril mind? Not really, though taking care of Sacha was definitely taking a small toll on him. Well, maybe small wasn’t the word. The toll wasn’t insignificant, but it wasn’t big enough that Cyril would want to get rid of Sacha. The very thought was repulsive. Cyril loved Sacha like a little brother. It was his job to take care of Sacha.

Eventually, Cyril decided to get up and get something to drink in the kitchen. He wasn’t worried about waking Sacha up. Sacha slept like a log.

However, as Cyril brought a glass down from the top shelf of a cabinet, he noticed a bottle on the counter.

“Hydromorphone, 5 mg tablets.”

Why did he still have those damn pills?

Immediately, he turned to Sacha. Had Sacha taken them? Sacha often woke up in the middle of the night to take pain medicine. Cyril had tried to convince Sacha to switch onto something long-term, but Sacha refused. He never gave a reason as to why, but Cyril suspected that he had a fear of long-term treatment after being drugged for so many years.

Sacha was sound asleep.

Almost dead asleep.

Cyril took the pills out, counted them. Sacha had taken two. He took two!

Panic overwhelmed Cyril as he ran over to Sacha and shook him.

“Sacha! Sacha! Wake up.”

At first, Sacha didn’t wake up. Dread filled Cyril’s blood like a poison. Sacha was dead. Sacha was dead.

He’d lost another one.

He couldn’t.

Surely, he had Narcan somewhere. Maybe it wasn’t too late to give it to Sacha.

“Sacha, wake up!”

Desperation filled Cyril’s voice.

In fact, he didn’t even realize when Sacha groaned. He was too busy looking through the cabinets for Narcan. He needed Narcan. He needed to save Sacha. He couldn’t lose another person. Not another friend.

“Cyril, what’s wrong?”

Cyril’s breath caught in his throat. Sacha was standing, breathing.

“You-”

Cyril stopped himself from asking Sacha if he was dead.

The panic suddenly came crashing down and Cyril felt tears in his eyes. Sacha wasn’t dead.

“You took two hydromorphone pills.”

“Two… what?”

Sacha squinted at Cyril. He sounded pretty tired, groggy, but he was still there. A lot more calm than usual, but not anywhere near being dead.

“Opioids. I thought you overdosed.”

Sacha shook his head. “I’ve overdosed before. I’m… definitely… tired, but not overdosing.”

Hearing that Sacha had overdosed before certainly didn’t calm Cyril down. However, he knew that he risked freaking Sacha out with his panic, so he quickly went to his room and slammed the door shut.

Cyril heard Sacha roll back over to bed. He’d ask in the morning what Sacha meant by that.

Still, he grabbed his shirt, placing his hand over his racing heart. Sobs broke through his chest. He kept himself quiet. He couldn’t stand to have Sacha hear him cry.

However, Cyril couldn’t hold it back anymore. He cried tears, remembering the dead body of Oliver laying on the bed. The cold of his dead skin. The hollowness of his dead eyes. Sure, the soul was impossible to prove from a medical standpoint, but from a physical one, a presence always left the room or was simply not there.

Oh, how Cyril longed to be in his garden, far away from the worries and fears that plagued him.

But it was winter. It was cold outside. There was no garden to tend to. Only the fears that he had to face head-on.

===

Tag list: @whumpsday, @i-can-even-burn-salad, @pigeonwhumps, @darkthingshappen, @pumpkin-spice-whump, @darlingwhump, @maracujatangerine, @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @flowersarefreetherapy, @octopus-reactivated, @quietshae, @whump-blog, @inkkswhumpandstuff, @whumpycries, @whumpkinz

#shadow by my fireplace #whump #whumpblr #whump fic #whump writing #whump community #recovery whump #cyril #sacha #hospital setting #hospital whump #doctor whump #cw are above #drug/substance use/abuse #opioids #panic attack #chronic illness

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whumpbump · 10 months

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Whumpee called for help over and over but it seemed that the staff just walked on by. Why didn’t they stop? Why wouldn’t they help? Surely they could hear Whumpee, so they called louder. That earned them sedation and separation. Whumpee was so frustrated that they decided they wouldn’t be eating to gain a reaction. All they did was keep detailed notes and take away the food so Whumpee couldn’t eat in secret later on.

Dr. Whumper read the notes with glee in their office with Head Henchnurse. This was the most fun they’d had in awhile. This Whumpee really wasn’t understanding how the program worked. Dr. Whumper called the shots and Whumpee’s suffering was detailed until Whumpee was sent to ~the Wing.~ There, Dr. Whumper could experiment until Whumpee was “cured” or dead. And Whumpee was falling directly into the trap.

#whumpee #whumpblr #whump blog #whump ideas #whump #whump inspiration #whump tropes #whumper #hospital whump #doctor whump #mental whump

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deerheaded44 · 1 year

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@mediwhumpmay DAY ONE of Mediwhumpmay!

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

MAY 1st - “IV/Cannula”

By: Zodiacccrab

Tags: IV, needles, pain and comfort, doctors, anxiety

“Little poke..” Timo inwardly gasped, unintentionally squirming as the little, glinting needle was lined up against the tender flesh of his inner arm. This was all a little too much for the boy. The cruelty of not having the slightest option or choice or protest against pokes, prods.. restraints, put his senses in overdrive. His body and mind were almost on fire at the anticipation of pain at any time, any day.

“You ok?” John’s voice brought him suddenly back into the moment. “Mm.” Timo managed to hum, his throat tight with trepidation. “You’re looking a little pale there.” The nurse quipped, his gloved hand subtly attempting to still his patient’s fidgeting.

Yes, Timo was beginning to lose it. Oh, he wanted up. The light above him was too god-dammed bright. The smell of sickly antiseptic was too overtaking in his nostrils. And the anticipation of it all, dear God the anticipation made him feel sick all over.

A gentle, gloved hand from someone unseen, holding a wet rag was suddenly caressed over his cheek, guiding his face and vision to the opposing side of the sharp threat. The rag and hand blocked his vision and the coldness of the water dampening them both trickled down Timo’s face. The surprise of the cold wetness brought him away from the hot pain, put the pain overtook nonetheless. “Ahrg..” The boy groaned, the stick finally puncturing his skin. “There.” John said to himself quietly, quickly connecting the odds and ends to the IV that was piercing his broken muse.

“You still there, maus?” It was Dr.Wolff, the thick German accent, and tag-line pet name for the boy giving him away immediately. “Yes..” Timo spoke weakly as the wet rag was caressed over his cheeks and forehead, a few drops of water dripping over his eyes and onto his lips. “We don’t want you passing out on us, hm?” Mixed emotions rose up in Timo’s chest. Here he was, with no say over his own body, yet a feeling of longing went out to his consoling doctor. A sick feeling of desperation perhaps playing tricks on his fragile mind and heart. Timo closed his eyes tight. Dear God, he didn’t care if it was all a trick of his mind. He needed Dr.Wolff there with him, his gentle touch offering grounding in the heat of confusion.

“All done.” Spoke John, now putting his hand onto the boy's shoulder and giving it a little squeeze. “Hard parts done.. now, all you’ll feel is a little bit cold.. the saline has a way of doing that..”

#mediwhumpmay #medical whump #whump #iv whump #doctor whump #lab whump #comfort whump #writings

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whump-a-la-mode · 1 year

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Taming The Tiger

I know I’ve been silent on here for a while, and there’s a lot of reasons for that (mostly college. oops). But! I’m back! And with a new series!

Taming The Tiger tells the story of Doctor Elizabeth Ada, an expert in the field of contemporary sentient artificial intelligence. Frequently at odds with the Committee for Ethics in Sentient Artificial Intelligence, Doctor Ada believes in the humanity of AI and that they deserve kindness and respect. The Ethics Committee, however, considers sentient AI to not be only on par with animals, but with dangerous ones. They believe that the only way to train an AI for service is through beating it into submission.

Desperate to get Doctor Ada off of their back, The Ethics Committee prepares an ultimatum: If she can take a broken, violent, aggressive AI and prepare it for service within three month’s time, they will accept the humanity of AI, and treat them humanely.

Doctor Ada accepts, only to be given an impossible task. Or, more so, an impossible person: ALEXS class service AI unit #189.

Will Doctor Ada’s methods work, or will Unit #189 prove unfixable?

Containing: Artificial intelligence whumpee, inhuman whumpee, female whumpee, defiant whumpee, pet whumpee, doctor caretaker, scientist caretaker, dehumanization, whumpee distrusting caretaker

Part One Coming Soon!

(I don’t draw much, but I wanted to make some designs for both major characters in this story)

Doctor Ada:

Unit #189:

#whump #whumpblr #whump community #whump writing #lady whump #femwhump #robot whump #android whump #robot whumpee #android whumpee #artificial intelligence whump #artificial intelligence whumpee #ai whump #ai whumpee #whump series #doctor caretaker #scientist caretaker #doctor whump #scientist whump

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breakyourwhumpees · 2 years

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Experiment 36

lab whump, needles, poison injected, sedative mention, hospital setting-ish, lab whump, experiment whumpee, noncon touching(sfw), noncon bodymod, doctor/scientist/experiment whumper, whumper is tired of whumpee’s shit, whumper is just following orders. In which Experiment 36 has a chat with Doctor.

"Hi, doctor.” Experiment 36 piped as Doctor pulled their hair to tilt his head sideways, pressing the needle into the experiment’s skin. The doctor hummed as 36 cooperated, kicking their legs. The pain was only a prick even though the needle was thicker than ideal,

“You need a haircut,” The doctor noted, narrowing his cold gray eyes at them. “I’ll let management know.” He pulled out the needle and cleaned it, setting it aside. 36 yawned.

“W’sat? ‘s it A sedative?” they asked, sitting back on their arms and eyeing the doctor as he paced the room, shoving his hands into the pockets of his lab coat.

“We’re testing a new antidote.” He replied coldly, going to was his hands in the sink against the far wall. 36 clicked their tongue, unfazed. They pull their long shirt further over their knees as Doctor moved to the cabinet to get them a band aid.

“So poison. Nice. When do I get the antidote? Also, hello kitty band-aid, please.” 36 asked, obediently tilting their head to expose their neck as Doctor plasters the band aid to the spot on their neck where the needle had sunk in. They hadn’t seen him put his gloves back on after washing his hands, but they were on now.

“Fifteen minutes. Until then, I have to watch you,” The doctor complained, glaring at them from half lidded eyes. 36 wrinkled their nose distastefully.

“Not my fault, Doc. Can I play candy crush on your phone?” They request, making grabby hands at the man who sneered at them in obvious irritation.

Doctor scowled. “No.” He spat. “Last time you had one of your fits and broke my screen, you scoundrel.” 36 snorted at the thought. It was only once. They fold their legs and stare at the wall for a while. The doctor moves to sit at his desk.

“Can I get up?” 36 asked. “No,” Doctor grunted irritably. “Because of the poison or because you don’t want me to?” No answer. Fueled by boredom, Experiment 36 persists. “When do I get feeded next? Also what time is it?” “It’s pronounced fed. Also you’ve already eaten today, so tomorrow. Also it’s 5:15.” The doctor doesn’t look up from his computer. “A.M or P.M?” “P.M.”

A moment of silence stretches across the sterile room. Everything is white. Experiment 36 and Doctor almost feel like the only color in the room. “Can I take a nap?” Experiment 36 asked, picking their nails. They aren’t tired, but they couldn’t be bored if he was sleeping. Doctor flicked his gaze over to them briefly, furrowing his brows.

“Yeah, as long as you don’t annoy me.” Doctor replied curtly as 36 settled to lie on the stiff hospital bed. They sigh, curling into themselves.

“Night, Doc.” The room feels hollow when they speak despite the knowledge that Doctor was in there with him. No response, but they don’t really expect one.

reblogs > likes

#lab whump #experiment whump #experiment whumpee #doctor whump #doctor whumper #hospital whump #needle whump #whump

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