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flowersarefreetherapy · 2 years

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You Are My Sunshine: pt. 8

CW: Light angst, but mostly fluff!

“You gotta move, kiddo,” Robin chuckles, nudging Star into the house.

“Oh, sorry,” he quickly says, scurrying out of the way. But he keeps his death grip on the plastic cup. The numbers are a little smudged now from his palms, but still legible.

“You’re alright, I just don’t fancy freezing.”

They watch as Star goes to the living room. He sits on the couch, staring at the numbers. Thad steps in and closes the door, cutting off the blowing wind from outside. He watches Star as well as he hangs up his coat.

“Think he knows how to use a phone?” Thad whispers.

Robin shrugs. “I haven’t thought to ask. Maybe? But if he doesn’t, we can always teach him.”

Thad nods. They stay in the entryway for a moment longer, taking off all the layers needed for a jaunt in the freezing wind and temperatures. Winter is one of their favorite seasons, but the cold can wear away a person, even after a while. And Star needs the time to process. This is a major step for him and Robin doesn’t want to force him into something he doesn’t want.

“Hey,” Robin calls as they move into the kitchen. “Star, what do you want for dinner?”

Star doesn’t look up, staring at the cup with wide eyes. Thad and Robin exchange a look, then Thad goes over and sits next to Star. He hesitates a moment, then asks, “What are you going to do?”

Star shrugs.

“Do you want to call?”

Another shrug.

“It’s your choice, Star. We want you to know that. We won’t force you to choose something that you don’t want to do.”

Robin pulls out a loaf of bread on the counter. They remember having this same conversation, all those years ago. The first time Thad kissed them. Coming back from some stupid B-level film they don’t even remember now, stopping at a drivethru for shakes. Thad had never had a shake before then and Robin talked him into getting a chocolate one.

They sat under flashing neon lights, talking about the movie and about freedom and about them. A struggling law student who could barely make rent and a former Guard who lashed out every time there was a loud sound. Where were they going, what were they doing, what did they want?

You can have all the freedom in the world now. You don’t belong to anyone.

They remember Thad’s response. It is burned into their mind, a sentence layered with so many meanings they have yet to untangle all of them.

I want to belong to you.

Three months later and Robin proposed in the same park they found Thad in.

Now, they lay out the ingredients to make subs while their son faces down his own choices, his own future. Robin smiles as Star sets down the cup, angles his body towards Thad, and holds out his hand.

“Can, can, can I have your ph-phone?”

If Thad smiles any wider, he would break his face. He nearly throws his phone across the room in his hurry to get it out and hands it over to Star.

“Alright, so first off, do you know-”

“Yes.”

Thad shakes his head. “Then we’ll skip that step. Alright, so I’ll read you the numbers and then show you which buttons to hit.”

Star nods. The house falls silent as they work on calling Ezra. Robin puts a hold on dinner and instead pulls out two wine glasses. Tonight is reason to celebrate. The dial tone fills the space. Star looks like he’s about to puke. Thad pats him on the shoulder, then stands.

“You can take the call wherever you want,” he says. “Just let us know if we need to step in.”

Star nods. Then the blood drains from his face. “H-hello,” he whispers. “Y-yeah, I, I-it’s not too much t-trouble?”

Robin tunes out the conversation as Thad joins them in the kitchen. He takes the other wine glass and adds a bit more alcohol. They shake their head, but don’t say anything, watching Star carefully. He speaks in a soft whisper, sounding more at ease than they remember him ever sounding.

“This is a good thing,” Thad whispers. He sets the glass down so he can massage the tense muscles in Robin’s neck. “He’s making progress.”

Robin hums, rolling their neck. They relax back against the counter and say, “Perhaps . . . Healing is far from linear.”

“I know, sunshine. Believe me, I know. But every step is a step in the right direction.”

“I just-” Robin tips their head back, meeting Thad’s gaze. “I hate him for what he did.”

“. . . hate who?”

“Daniel. Or whatever he said his name was. Why did he abandon someone he seemed to care so much about? They were nearly inseparable when we brought them in and now it’s been a month!”

Thad glances at Star, then lowers his voice. “They’re trained to only rely on each other. It’s not actual love, not usually. If anything, it’s a strong sense of dependence, as you’ve already seen. My guess is Daniel found himself a person who truly loves him, who isn’t just conditioned to accept all that he is. I hope he’s happier, wherever he is.”

“Maybe. Perhaps.” Robin crosses their arms. “It would have been the right thing for him to let Star know so he can move on.”

“He’s likely cutting all ties to his past life. I know if there had been someone I cared about, I wouldn’t have contacted them. You can’t heal if you’re still connected to what hurt you.”

Star laughs, the sound real and bright and full of a joy Robin has never heard before. They watch him rock on the couch, fingers twisting the cord of his sweatshirt, a large smile on his face. A real smile.

Why would anyone choose to abandon you?

“I wouldn’t worry too much, sunshine,” Thad says, kissing their temple. “Seems like he’s moved on as well.”

“Ezra’s a good kid,” Robin mutters.

“That he is. This is going to be a very good thing for him. Ezra’s just the kind of kid that could really show him what a good relationship looks like. One that isn’t built on sex and drugs.”

“What are you talking about? That was our entire dating life!”

Thad laughs, that rich deep sound as he doubles over. Robin shakes their head and turns away, muttering about how he clearly forgot and how could he have done that. When he can breathe again, Thad straightens and says, “The only drugs you ever took were caffeine pills and we both know that.”

“I had some wild younger days.”

“Your wild days consisted of playing Myst and eating popcorn while crying about the bar exam. There were no drugs.”

“Just my love for you,” Robin throws over their shoulder.

“Then you’re gonna have to be arrested on drug charges, because you’re still high.”

Before they can respond, Thad hurries out of the kitchen. Robin snaps the towel after him, but they can’t help a large smile. Star is still on the phone, so they put away the dinner supplies and join Thad in the back office. It was going to be another bedroom at some point, but then the person who had been staying with them moved on and they didn’t need to remodel.

Thad is already sitting in the small armchair, scrolling through his phone. Robin curls on top of him and whispers, “What if we made the wrong decision?”

“Robin, I love you and I always will, but you don’t have to worry about this. It’s going to be fine.”

Robin nods, but they can’t help a pit of worry twisting in their stomach. They close their eyes and focus on Thad’s steady breathing.

Everyone is going to be fine.

Tagging: @pigeonwhumps @blood-is-compulsory (let me know if you want to be added/removed!)

#light angst #recovering whumpee #fluff #flirting #parental figures #multiple caretakers #thad #robin #star my beloved #bbu universe #sunshine house

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painsandconfusion · 1 year

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Cassidy

Bad baby Sand scribble part FOUR. whaaaaaaa? I did a werewolf thing???? ew. yall i dont like werewolves why did I do this XD

(tw: this is like 6,200 words long. ew. supernatural whumpee, knife, blood, shitty parental figures, manhandling, minor whump - i was a smol baby kiddo at the time i wrote this, dont come for me)

Cassidy stood in front of a large, oaken door. She had seen it many times before, but she had never mustered up enough courage to go in or even knock. She sat down on the floor as she had done so many times before, daydreaming what was inside.

Cassidy was small for her age. At twelve years old, she had an intrinsic sense of curiosity and wonder. She was allowed to go anywhere.

Anywhere but through that door.

Ever since she was two years old, longer than she could remember, she had lived with her uncle. When Cassidy was born, her mother had died in labor, leaving her father to care for her in the midst of a devastating war. Not too long after, her father had been drafted. Cassidy was sent away to live with her grandmother’s brother in a large estate hidden safely within the borders of a neutral country.

She had quickly adapted to life with her uncle. She was cared for by the maids, and only saw him during meals. Well...those he came to. Often times he would have his food delivered straight to his office. Behind the oaken door Cassidy had spent her lifetime staring at, wondering.

Her uncle was a mysterious man. He rarely ever talked to her, but she thought her liked her. He would always have a special smile, just for her, even if her never really took the time to know her. He would always lock himself in his study and work tirelessly on some mysterious task. Cassidy liked to think that he was creating something beautiful. Like a dollhouse, or a music box. But these were the dreams of a young child, and Cassidy was bright enough to know that.

Either way, she still enjoyed dreaming.

Cassidy sat there, in the flickering light of the candles. She was wearing her favorite dress, which she wore nearly every day until Martha, her personal maid, would take it away to be washed. She always loved the dress. It was a soft yellow with little greed beading across the hems. It also had a green ribbon around the middle, and puff sleeves that made her feel like a princess. Martha said it had been her daughter’s dress, before she grew up. Cassidy had noticed that Martha always talked about her daughter, Beth, in past tense. Still, she didn’t question. She never questioned. She had been taught not to. Even so, she noticed Martha’s eyes go misty whenever she twirled in the dress. And how Martha would hug her, a bit too tightly whenever her eyes got the mistly quality.

The oak doors never moved. She knew that they had to, or else Uncle could never get in or out, but she had never seen them opened. That was about to change. As Cassidy sat there, staring, the knob never turned, but the door opened a crack for the first time. She stood up. At first, she looked away, thinking that t was wrong to try and see what was inside.

After a moment, she looked back. Curiosity overtook her. She walked slowly towards the door. Still afraid of the unknown secrets of the room, she stood back as far as she could and plastered herself against the wall before nudging the door open with one hand. She peered inside.

It was completely dark. Had it always been like that? Was it always dark inside? Had the door always been unlocked for her to wander in at any time?

She took a few glances behind her, looking for uncle or Martha who would come to fetch her away. She thought for a moment on how much trouble she would get if if she were caught. It only took her a moment to realise that she didn’t care. The promise of answers to the questions she had been asking for years was easily worth any punishment they could give her. She took a shaky step inside. It was almost completely dark so she pushed the door open all the way in order to get as much light as possible.

The candles out in the hallway flickered and illuminated the feet, but they did little to penetrate the darkness looking all around here. There was something eerie about the room. No matter how hard she tried, she could not see into it, even with the light of the candles.

The sound of shoes clicking down the hallway made Cassidy spin around. Her heart jumped into her throat. She couldn’t be found. She wanted to run back out the door, to escape before anyone saw her, but it was too late. If she ran out now, she was sure to be seen. Instead, she covered her tracks and closed the door quickly and silently.

She put her ear to the thick wood, listening out into the hallway. She could hear the shoes come up to the door, then move, blessedly, past it. She could hear Martha’s voice humming a sweet melody as she made her way down the hall, completely unawares the Cassidy was just behind the forbidden door.

When Cassidy could no longer hear Martha, she sighed and let herself slide down to the foor. That was close. Too close. That was a bad idea. She immediately decided to leave. Quickly. Cassidy stood up and fumbled around for the knob. When she found it, she turned and pushed to open the door. Only, the door didn’t open.

Cassidy tried again, throwing herself against the door this time. It was locked. She tried to see through the darkness to get to the latch on the door but there wasn’t one. Why would Uncle have his study lock from the outside? Either way, she had to get out. If they found her in there she was going to be in a lot of trouble.

Cassidy turned around, looking for another way out. She reached her arms in front of her, trying to see through the darkness. Even now, her eyes were starting to adjust and whatever traces of light touched the room, she could see. She looked around. She couldn’t see the floor, but she make out the top of a table or desk. She had to find a candle, a lamp something. She moved slowly towards the table. Cassidy plastered her eyes open, trying to see as much as possible. There was a lamp sitting on the edge of the table. A real, electric lamp like she had only ever seen in the fancy shops in town. But... Uncle didn’t like electricity. He never bought the new fangled gadgets. Maybe he had finally given in.

Cassidy felt around the lamp trying to find a way to turn it on. You didn’t need a match or anything. The lady at the store had shown her how to turn it on by pulling on a chord.

Her fingers fumbled around the metal base.

There. A small chain was dangling from the base of the lamp. She pulled it quickly and light blinded her. She covered her eyes to block out the sudden light. It was much brighter than a lamp or candle. It seemed to illuminate the entire room.

Something behind her shifted in the darkness, and Cassidy whipped around, backing into the wall. She scanned the room, trying to see what she had heard. The room was much brighter now. It was all still in shadows, but she could make it out. She was next to the table pushed up against the wall. On the table was an assortment of items such as knives, notepads, gloves, bowls, a few boxes and several pieces of silver. In the corner of the room, there was a large desk with books and papers stacked and piled onto it. She could see in the corner there was a bookshelf that was stuffed with volumes. The room was fairly large, but it seemed smaller with so many things in it. She focused on the largest item last. In the center of the room there was a large looming figure. It was like a giant box, but it had a black fabric thrown over it. Like the birdcages at the zoo.

Had this been where the noise came from?

Cassidy was instantly curious. What was behind the fabric. What was in the box? She took a few small, silent steps forward, staring at it all the time. It was difficult to see in the shadows. After a moment, she turned back to the lamp and tipped it upward, splashing light around the rest of the room.

Something shifted again. She had been right. It was from in the box. She looked quizzically at it. Had her uncle been keeping an animal in here?

Cassidy reached around and gripped the corner of the black fabric. She took a deep breath and slowly pulled the material away. It was heavy, but she managed.

She peered in. It wasn’t a box. It was a cage. The walls were made of iron bars with a nonexistent door. The cage hadn’t been what she was expecting, but what wasn’t what made her stop. It what was inside the cage, staring back at her. Cassidy gasped and dropped the material.

The shape of a boy, only a few years older than her, was curled up into a ball, only his red tinged eyes staring back at her. Cassidy wanted to scream, to run, but something stopped her. The boy was crying. He looked unblinkingly up at her, tears slowly, silently, streaming down his cheeks. He stared at her, obviously more frightened of her than she was of him. Cassidy spun around, looking around the room. She was suddenly afraid of being caught again. This was definitely not what she had expected.

The boy lifted his head a bit more and looked at her. She looked back. Who was he? Where did he come from? More importantly, why did her uncle have a young teenaged boy locked up in his study?

Cassidy tried to clear her face of expression, as she had seen Martha do. She cleared her throat and looked back at the boy.

“Who are you?” She had tried to make her voice clear and polite, but it came out shaky and foreign to her. The boy finched at her words and shifted away from her. He stared at her. He still looked frightened, but now it was mixed with confusion and curiosity.

He didn’t reply. She tried something different. “My name is Cassidy.” She said. Her voice was calmer than before. She wanted to try to speak in a way that would calm him down, but it seemed to be working for her too. He stared back up at her. Cassidy slowly sat on the floor. She looked around the room, trying to figure out what to do next.

“Conor.” He whispered. She looked back at him.

“Conor? That’s your name.” She clarified. Slowly, he nodded.

He seemed to be gaining confidence quickly. “How did you get here?” He asked. “Who are you?”

Cassidy was glad that he was speaking, but she wasn’t sure how to answer his questions. “Um...I guess I live here. This is my uncle’s house. I’ve never been in this room before.”

He stared back at her. “When is he coming back?” He asked.

“My uncle? I don’t know. He comes and goes all the time. I never know exactly where he is. I’ve never been too close to him...”

Conor tensed and looked rapidly around the room. He seemed to be afraid of Uncle. But why?

“Did my uncle put you here?” Cassidy asked hesitantly.

“I think so. At least I think it’s the same man.”

“Why?” She asked. “Why would he put anyone in a cage?”

“To experiment…” The boy replied, his eyes threatened tears again.

“What do you mean?” Cassidy inquired. “Experiment what?”

Conor looked back up to meet her eyes. He looked like he was in pain. Slowly, he unwrapped his arms from around his torso. He held them out for her to see. Dark hair made its way down his arms and over much of his hands. She noticed it poked out from under the color of his shirt as well. He was practically covered in hair.

Cassidy gasped. “Did he do this to you?” She she whispered.

He pulled his arms back and looked away. “No. He didn’t. You don’t understand…” He stammered. “I’m not…”

“What?”

He took a deep breath. “I’m not exactly human. Well, I am. Most of the time…”

Cassidy stared at him, trying to understand. How can someone be ‘not exactly human’?

“What?” She repeated.

Conor sighed. “I’m a werewolf.” He clarified. “Well...not yet. I’m going to be though. When I’m 18...”

Cassidy stared at him, dumbfounded. A werewolf?

“I...I don’t understand.” Cassidy stammered.

Conor paused. “I don’t know why he wants me. I think he is trying to figure out how to kill my kind. I just don’t know what to do.” His voice cracked and he looked away.

Cassidy was furious at her uncle. How could he do something like this? Did he realize how much he had been hurting this boy?

She could see that the outer sides of his arms were covered in cuts and welts. Fresh. She stared at them.

“I’m going to get you out of here.” She said definately. Conor looked up.

“How?” He whispered hopelessly. There isn’t even a door to this cage. The bars are all lined with silver. If I even touch it it burns me!” he showed her the backs of his arms.

Silver. Werewolves can’t touch silver. Right...

“It gets worse as I get older, too. Once I’m a full werewolf, silver will be able to kill me…”

Cassidy stood up. there had to be a way to get him out. She wrapped her hands around the bars, giving them a good tug. She pried and pulled at them, unable to change a thing. “Ugh! She grunted “I can’t move them.”

Conor stared that the dirt and muttered “Of course you can’t, you’re human. I’m strong enough that I could, but I can’t hold onto them that long.”

“Okay…” Cassidy mused. “So I just have to find a way that you can hold onto the bars without getting hurt.”

Conor scoffed. “Good luck with that.”

Cassidy looked around the room. She cast her gaze on the table she had first seen when she had entered. She searched them for anything she could use to help her. She looked from the silver to the knives.

Conor was right. He was experimenting. Some sick form of torture to figure out every way he could hurt Conor. Anger and hatred bubbled up in her chest. She had trusted her uncle. He had always been kind to her and she loved him in return.

All of the feelings she once had for him were now ebbing away as she looked around the room. This room made to hold and torture a young boy.

Cassidy saw a pair of woolen gloves on the edge of the table. She grabbed them and jumped back over to Conor.

She thrust them through the bars so that he could reach them without touching the cursed silver.

“Will these work?” She asked him. He looked at the gloves carefully, afraid to touch them.

“What are they made of?” He asks, eyeing they skeptically.

“I don’t know...wool I think.” She pulled them back out and turned them inside out. “Nothing inside. Just the liner. I don’t see any silver...”

“Okay, let me see them.” Cassidy held them back out for him. He didn’t take them, but touched them lightly with the tips of his fingers. Cassidy had no idea when the last time was he touched something without being hurt.

He held the tips of his fingers on them for a few moments before moving his hands under and telling her to let go. She did and he looked at them carefully before putting them on.

Once the gloves were on he stood up as much as he could in the small cage. Cassidy hadn’t realized how big he was. She had seen that he was thin, but he was also very long. He was much taller, and perhaps older, than she had thought. Conor moved up close to the bars. Taking a deep breath, he reached out to let the gloves touch the metal. He winced, expecting a shock or burn, but he held still. After a moment her wrapped his large hands firmly around the silver bars. He looked at Cassidy and nodded.

“Stand back a little.” He advised. “I don’t know how these are going to bend or break.” Cassidy complied, moving back beside the table.

“Here goes nothing….” Conor muttered.

She saw his muscles tense up and his eyes focus as he pulled at the bars. After a moment they creaked and started to give. Conor grunted and pulled harder. The first bar snapped from the frame and it’s momentum brought it slamming back against his body.

His let go of the bar and ground his teeth. She could see a new welt on his face where the bar had hit him, but he seemed to be fine. He threw the bar to the other side of the cage and continued pulling on the second. After a few seconds, it pulled out too, and Conor was careful not to let it touch him. Now the gap was wide enough for Conor to slip through without touching the bars, still, he pushed out on them to bend the opening a bit wider, just in case.

Conor slid through the opening and stood up fully for the first time in a while. A grin split across his face. That was the first time Cassidy saw him smile and she couldn’t help but join him.

“Thank you!” Conor said, scooping her into a hug, making her giggle. Cassidy hadn’t known him for long, but she sure liked him so far. She hugged him back.

“You’re welcome.” She was still grinning as he put her back down and started to stretch. His back and neck popped and cracked as he moved freely for the first time in...how long? Cassidy decided to ask.

“How long were you in there?” She said, dropping her smile.

“I’m not sure...a few months I think...” He answered. “Either way, too long.”

Cassidy stared at him. “How old are you?”

“15” He replied.

“You’re pretty tall for 15” She stated.

This made Conor laugh. She liked his laugh. “Werewolf, remember?”

Cassidy smiled. This was all so strange. He was so strange. But he made her happy. She was definitely glad she decided to go into the room.

Then she remembered.

“Oh, no…” Cassidy stuttered, looking around the room. “What are we going to do? I have to get you out of here, but there are people in the house. Uncle could walk through that door any minute and the door’s locked from the outside!” Cassidy circled around, trying to think. Uncle was going to come in. He should see what she had done. She would be punished and she didn’t even want to think about what would happen to Conor.

“What are we going to do!?” She repeated.

“Calm down, We’ll think of something…” Conor said, grabbing her shoulders to still her. He looked around the room. “I can get us out of here, but you are going to have to get us through the house. I don’t know the way. Can you do that?” He asked. He looked directly into her eyes, his eyebrows raised. Cassidy nodded fervently.

“Okay…” Conor sighed. “Here we go...”

He walked up to the door. He tried the doorknob, but it did no more for him than it had for Cassidy.

He sighed. “Okay, here’s how this is going to work. If we want out, I’m going to have to either break down the door or bust the lock. It will be loud. If anyone’s near, they are going to hear it. Once we’re out we will have to get out of the house quickly and quietly without being seen. You sure you want to do this?” He looked at her.

Cassidy met his gaze. She understood. Her uncle would know she had helped him. There was no way he could have gotten out on his own. He would be furious. Cassidy had no idea what kind of man her uncle really was, or what he would to to her if he found out. “Okay, but I’m coming with you when we’re out.” She stated firmly.

“No. No way. You can’t be caught with me. You will stay here. This is your home. I’m not going to take you away.”

“You don’t understand. He will kill me when he finds out.”

“He doesn’t have to know it was you.”

“Of course he’ll know. Who else would? The only people in this house are my uncle, Martha, and me. He will know it was me. I don’t want to know what he will do to me after that. I never knew him well and after seeing all this,” She gestured around the room, “I don’t want to.”

Conor sighed. “Okay. You’re right. I can’t leave you here. We will figure out something out.” He turned away from her and looked at the door. “You ready?” He asked.

“Yeah. Let’s go.” He wrapped his still-gloved hand around the doorknob and thrust his shoulder into the wood. Cassidy heard the crackling as it broke away from the farme. Conor tried to be quiet about it, but the door fell with a crash with him on top of it. He stood up quickly before grabbing Cassidy’s arm and pulling her out.

“Come on!” He said. Not bothering to whisper. If anyone could hear their voices, they would have heard the door.

“This way!” Cassidy ordered and she started running down the hallway. Conor followed, thumping loudly. He wasn’t exactly graceful. She headed for the backdoor, the one that lead into the kitchen. Uncle never went over there. If they were lucky, they could get out before anyone could find them. She rounded the corner and started sliding down the stairs with Conor on her heels.

“Cassidy!” Uncle screamed. She spun around to meet his wild gaze.

He was in the parlor, now moving quickly towards the stairs. His eyes latched onto Conor and he drew a silver knife from his belt.

Cassidy stared at the knife and screamed. Conor picked her up, pulling her back up the stairs. Cassidy looked back down at her uncle. He wore and expression mixed between confusion, horror, fear, and anger. He darted up after them. She had never realized how agile her uncle was, but it was all too obvious now as he quickly caught up to them. Conor probably could have outrun him, but Cassidy couldn’t and Conor didn’t leave her behind.

Cassidy screamed again as she tripped and went hurtling to the floor.

“Cassidy!” Conor yelled, skidding to a stop and turning towards her. Uncle was very close now, sprinting at them with a knife in hand. Conor picked her up by her elbow and carried her down the hall at a full sprint.

Conor must have realized that he was not going to win. He had no idea where he was going and carrying Cassidy slowed him down. He raced down the hallway. Dead end. He stopped suddenly and spun around. Uncle slowed down too, only stopping when they were ten feet apart. Cassidy could hear Conor’s rapid breathing and she clutched his neck.

Conor set Cassidy down quickly and she struggled to figure out what he was doing. Quickly, though it became obvious as his massive hands wrapped around her throat.

Cassidy instinctively tried to pull them off, but it was useless. Conor was far stronger than she was. She started to panic, unsure what to do. She looked wildly up at her uncle. He was staring at her in horror.

“Let go of my niece you filthy half breed.” Uncle said with more venom than she had ever known he had possessed.

Conor didn’t waver. “Oh, fond of her are you? I see. Too bad.” Conor tightened his grip around her, and she sputtered, clawing at his hands for release.

His voice was precise, deadly. She hadn’t ever heard him talk like that. She didn’t know what to think. A few moments ago she trusted him with her life. Now...not so sure.

Her uncle slowly put his hands up. “Calm down, let’s just talk this out.” He said slowly.

Conor laughed coldly. “Oh, we’ve had plenty of time for talking. You never bothered. That’s your own fault. Besides there’s nothing to talk about. I’m making you a deal. Either you take it or you don’t. Not much talking involved in that.”

“Okay, what do you want?” Uncle asked.

“First, put down the knife. I don’t like it much.” He ordered.

Uncle pause, eyeing his blade. “I don’t like being at a disadvantage. How can I trust you?”

Conor sighed. “Look I’m trying to be polite here but if you move that knife one centimeter closer to me I will tear you apart.” He paused. “And the girl as well.”

Uncle turned white and hesitantly complied, letting the knife drop to the floor with a thud. “Now, here’s the deal. Option A: You let me go. No one gets hurt. Everyone’s happy. Option B: You refuse. I kill the girl. Then I kill you. Understand?”

Uncle nodded.

“Your choice?” Conor asked.

Uncle stared from Conor to me, then back to Conor. He squinted at him.

“I think you’re bluffing. I don’t think you’d hurt her. It seems you’re rather attached to her. I don’t think you will do it.” He challenged.

Conor chuckled coldly. “Watch me.” He whispered slowly.

His hands tightened around Cassidy’s neck, cutting off most of her air supply. Cassidy thrashed around, wide eyes, trying to get away from him. Her uncle watched the scene for a moment before taking a step back and raising his hands higher. “Okay! Okay. I’ll do whatever you want just let her go.” He said frantically.

“That’s better.” Conor said coldly. His hands relaxed, allowing Cassidy to gulp down air, coughing and sputtering all the time.

“Now back up.” Conor instructed.

Uncle compiled and started moving away from them. Conor moved forward, still holding onto Cassidy’s neck. He bent over slowly to pick up the knife the Uncle had dropped, careful not to touch the silver blade. He moved his hands away from her throat and replaced them with the knife. Cassidy could feel the cool metal pushing into the flesh on her throat, not quite hard enough to break the skin. She lifted her chin to get away from it.

“Now, you stay there. You move and I start carving.” Conor threatened. He started backing up, tugging Cassidy with him. She moved slowly, careful not to press against the knife. He backed up into the hallway. Dead end. Right.

He reached to his left and opened a door. It was Cassidy’s bedroom. He moved inside, pulling Cassidy with him.

“Wait! Let her go! You said you wouldn’t hurt her!” Uncle called down the hall. She could hear him moving towards them. Conor stepped back into the hall, still holding her against his body.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay there?” He mused.

Suddenly, the blade pushed harder against Cassidy’s throat. She wined and she felt it cut the skin. A trickle of blood emerged.

“No!” Her uncle cried.

“Just keep quiet and stay there. I will kill her if you don’t listen. She is coming with me. I won’t hurt her and will release her once I am a good ways away. I need to make sure you won’t follow me. Now. Back. Up. I won’t tell you again.” Uncle looked frantically at him before backing up slowly once again.

Conor had moved the blade away from her cut, but it still throbbed and she could feel the blood running down her neck. It wasn’t a deep cut. Just the skin. She would be okay. As long as Conor didn’t try it again.

They moved back into the room and Conor slammed the door. He released her and bolted the doorjam. He moved her dresser in front of the frame for good measure before moving to the window and breaking it open.

Cassidy way sitting on the ground massaging her throat gently. She didn’t know what to think. She looked up at Conor, frightened. In a moment he picked her up and literally jumped out the window. They were on the second floor at least 40 feet in the air, but apparently Conor didn’t care.

She screamed as they fell. Cold air whipped her hair into her face, catching in her mouth. It seemed like forever before they reached the ground.

Conor landed on his back, using his body as a cushion for her fall. Cassidy was aching, but Conor stood up quickly and picked her up. He began sprinting towards the dark forest the engulfed the estate. He didn’t stop running when the got to the trees. He carried her for miles. All Cassidy could do was hang onto his for dear life. His path twisted and turned so that he would be impossible to track down.

After what seemed like an hour of running, Conor finally stopped. He set her down and kneeled to look her in the eye. She flinched away from him.

“I am so sorry Cass. I had to. He wasn’t going to let us go if he didn’t think I was serious. I didn’t want to hurt you but it was the only way.”

Cassidy looked away.

He gave her a halfhearted smile. “You didn’t really think I’d kill you did you?” He asked quietly.

Cassidy met his eyes. She couldn’t lie to him. She nodded slowly.

“Oh, Cassidy” He said quietly, engulfing her in a hug. “But, I suppose it’s probably a good thing. If you believed it, he believed it.” He pulled back and looked her in the eye. “I am so sorry that had to happen. I suppose I was pretty scary, huh?” Cassidy finally let the tears slip down her cheek. She closed her eyes and nodded before burying her face in his shoulder.

“I’m so, so sorry…” He whispered. “I’ll never let anything like that happen to you again. I will never hurt you.” He began to pet her hair, soothing her. “Are you going to be okay?” He whispered in her ear.

Cassidy noded. “I’m okay.” She mumbled into his chest. She pulled away and wiped the tears from her eyes. She sat down on the ground behind her. Conor followed suit.

“So...what now?” Cassidy whispered. Her throat was still tight from crying, but she had to move on. She had never been one to cry. She didn’t like it.

“I’m not sure.” Conor replied. “Here, let me see that.” He said, gently pulling her chin up so he could see the cut on the neck. He looked at it with regret. “So sorry…” He whispered again. He inspected the cut to make sure it wasn’t bleeding any longer. It had stopped a while ago, but the dried blood was still there and there was nothing to wash it off with.

Cassidy pulled his hand away. She changed the subject. “Where did you come from. Before my uncle..”

“I lived in a village miles and miles away from here. My parents had been werewolves I guess. They sent me away when someone caught onto their secret. The people I lived with never figured it out. One night I woke up to the cottage on fire. Next thing I knew I woke up in that cage….”

“That’s...terrible.” Cassidy whispered.

“It’s okay. I never really fit in anyway.” He smirked. “No one really liked me.”

Cassidy stared at him. “Me neither. Well...I’m not so sure. I never really get to leave the house. I get all my training and learning at home. I only get to go out when Martha has to shop and uncle isn’t home to watch me. They never trusted me…”

Conor smiled. “Probably because of me. They didn’t want you to find me.”

“Nah, you’ve only been here a few months. This has been happening my whole life.”

He paused, searching her eyes. “But there was someone there before me.” Conor said carefully. “I wasn’t the first.”

Cassidy stared at him. “What do you mean?” She asked.

“When I got there, I knew I wasn’t the first. He had been doing this a long time. Besides, I didn’t need that. I could smell it.”

“You what?” Cassidy asked.

“Smell. I have an acute sense of smell. Like a dog.” He laughed for a moment then grew somber again. “I could still pick up the scent of the one who was there before me. I assumed that whoever the last one was had just gotten too old. There isn’t really any way to experiment on a fully grown werewolf. They are extremely strong, but fragile at the same time. They would break out of that cage, no problem. There’s no way to control them. But also, the silver has a greater effect. I assumed your uncle killed the one before me.” Conor started picking at a leaf, tearing the edges off a little bit at a time.

Cassidy looked away, sorry she asked. She picked up a leaf too, prying the veins from the green. “Well...where did you come from?” She asked him. “Maybe we could still go back…”

“No. There’s nothing left for me there. Besides, that’s the first place your uncle will look.” He stared out into the trees. “We have to get away. Far away.” He sat up straighter. “Wait. You say this man is your uncle?”

“Yes?”

“So what about your parents?” He asked.

Cassidy sighed. “My mother’s dead and my father was drafted in the war. That’s why I was sent here. To get away from the war.”

“Hmm…” Conor grunted. “Well, I guess we can figure it out later. We’re not going anywhere fast.” He laid down. Cassidy did the same. They looked up together, watching the leaves of the trees sway and rustle under the gentle breeze. It was getting kinda cold out. It was mid summer, but the nights were still a bit chilly. It was getting close to sundown.

“Should we get a shelter or something?” Cassidy asked. She had never slept anywhere but in the house, in a bed. She didn’t know how to live outside of walls.

Conor smirked at her. “Nah. It doesn’t get too cold. There’s nothing to shelter us from. Except animals, maybe, and I can take care of them.”

Cassidy shuddered. “What kinds of animals?” She asked quietly. She had heard about the lions and bears. Bobcats and tigers. She didn’t like the idea of them prowling around while she slept.

Conor chuckled again, apparently amused by her fear. “Wolves.” He mused. “Big issue for a lot of people, but not while you’re with me. If anything else comes, I can make it go away.” He rolled on his side and propped up on his elbow to face her. “I promise I won’t let anything hurt you.” He said honestly.

Cassidy smiled. “Thank you.” She said quietly.

Conor layed back down and they went back to watching the sun set through the canopy of leaves.

“Conor?” She asked after a few minutes.

“Yeah?”

“I think if I knew you before all this, I still would have been your friend.”

She could hear his smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You know something, Cassie?” He asked. She turned her head to face him.

“What?”

“Your uncle’s right. I am growing rather fond of you.”

Cassidy smiled. “So does this mean we’re friends?”

“I think so.” Conor replied.

There were were a few moments of silence before Cassidy answered. “I’ve never had a friend before.” She said quietly.

“Me neither”

“I think I like it.”

“Me too.” Conor replied.

Together, they watched the treetops. The night was setting in, darkening the atmosphere of the forest. When the sun had fully set, Cassidy snuggled up to him for warmth. Just before they drifted to sleep Cassidy whispered.

“Conor?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t leave me.”

“Never.” He replied.

______________________________________________________________

Not necessarily part of the story:

The next morning, Cassidy woke up to rays of sunlight splashed across her face. She shifted, feeling Conor’s body beside her. For a moment, she panicked, not remembering the day before. When she realized it was Conor beside her, she smiled. He was her friend. Her first friend. She felt almost giddy. She stood up slowly so that she didn’t wake him and looked around.

Birds bobbed and weaved everywhere around her, singing songs to one another. It was beautiful. Cassidy smiled and wandered around to watch the birds from a better angle. They were in all different colors and sizes singing different songs to one another as they busily flew about.

#this is like 6 #200 words long. ew. supernatural whumpee #knife #blood #shitty parental figures #manhandling #minor whump - i was a smol baby kiddo at the time i wrote this #dont come for me #werewolf whumpee #baby sand scribbles #bad writing #no im still not proofreading or anything im just spamming your pages

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whumpster-dumpster · 5 months

Text

Parental Caretaker's confidence being shaken by other important people in the whumpee's life who think they're not cut out to be a familial figure

#whump #whump prompt #writing prompt #familial whump #found family #judgment #self doubt

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justbreakonme · 9 months

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Hi! I don’t know if you’re taking asks right now, but if you are, could you maybe write some whumpee deconditioning?

Oh this is right up my alley…

Caretaker sat outside on the porch, looking out over the dry grass and gravel drive. There was no one around for miles, well, no one but Whumpee.

He still didn’t know much about where he had come from, mostly that it was not a place he ever wanted to visit. He’d found him curled up in the barn, wedged in between hay bales as tightly as he could managed, like that was gonna do much against the below freezing temperatures. Caretaker was glad he’d thought to double check on the cats, otherwise, who knows if the kid would have made it through the night.

He’d yanked him inside and ripped into him, saying his parents were probably worried sick, and only when he’d ran out of breath did he see the hand shaped bruises, the burns…the belt marks. All through everything, whumpee hadn’t managed a word, merely stared blankly into the middle distance, trembling like a leaf.

That was almost three months ago now, and snow had given way to dead grass and the beginnings of spring, and Whumpee had stayed with Caretaker.

He slept in a real bed, not in a barn, and they ate meals together at a proper kitchen table, and he helped out around the property like he’d lived there all his life. And that was where the normalcy ended.

It was like he couldn’t remember, not in his mind at least. But the things he did were a different story. As horrible as it was, he had expected the flinching. The skittishness, the way he avoided fireplace pokers and belts like the plague. But there were other things that he just hadn’t puzzled out yet.

The biggest problem was that there was something about books that set him on edge. Caretaker was an avid reader, and there was not much he liked better than cracking open a book and sitting back on the porch, but whenever he did, whumpee acted…odd.

He’d watch from the kitchen window, then duck away when he’d look back, and if, after he looked back, he got up and came inside, it would trigger a panic attack like nothing else.

Usually, when whumpee got scared, they went still, and silent, aside from quick, short breaths, his head ducked and his hands clasped in front of him. Those were…easier, in some ways, to deal with. He had worked out that whumpee was needing forgiveness, or reassurance that he hadn’t done anything wrong, or that no one was mad at him. Once that “sunk in”, he would be able to calm down, slowly, but better the others.

The “book scares” as he had started to refer to them in his own mind, would have whumpee scrambling for cover, his hands up in a defensive position, and he would beg and cry that he was sorry, that he would be better, that he didn’t mean to, but he would never say what he was sorry for, and no amount of questions, in the moment or after it, would help caretaker figure it out. It was like even whumpee wouldn’t know.

He didn’t even know how to really calm whumpee down, all he was ever able to do was help him crash safely. He’d tell him to go sit in bed and calm down, and that he wasn’t in trouble, but he would still hear him crying for hours, and would find him passed out, exhausted, on top of the covers in his bed, tear tracks still drying on his cheeks.

He just…couldn’t figure it out.

Caretaker could feel whumpees eyes on the back of his head through the open window. He fought the urge to turn around, and instead, had an idea. He faked a yawn, and a satisfied sigh, and closed his book. He stretched, and snuck a sideways glance over his shoulder to see him watching.

He looked…hopeful, but still ducked away Was that a good sign? He took a deep breath, and decided to try something else. Very gently, he called. “Hey, Whumpee? Could you bring me a pen?”

He didn’t know what to ask for, but Whumpee hadn’t had any reactions to pens or the like, and it was something he could find easily.

“Y-Yes sir!”

Caretaker winced at the eager panic in his voice, and the way he practically ran for the cup of pens by the phone. He was out the door, presenting the pen, in seconds, his hands shaking but still lucid and not lost to panic yet.

“Thank you,” he takes the pen, and gives whumpee a smile, “would you feel like joining me?”

He gestured to the other rocking chair, and Whumpees breath hitched as he darted a glance up for just a second, searching Caretakers face.

He seemed to determine it was the right answer, and nodded, quickly. “Thank you sir.” It was like watching someone held at gunpoint, the way he sat so carefully, the white knuckle grip he held on the armrests.

“It’s nice weather out here, huh? Finally starting to warm up…” he didn’t know what else to say, hell, they’d probably had less than ten conversations that weren’t about what they were going to do or how to do something.

“Yes sir, it is…” He moved his hands to his lap, still not relaxing even the slightest, but his tone seemed less…stiff.

He wished he’d thought this out a little further, thought of more to talk about than the weather. In a way, he hadn’t planned because he didn’t really expect to get this far.

He took another deep breath, figuring he might as well not beat around the bush. “When I come and sit out here and read, I can tell it makes you worried…” Whumpee flinched, hard.

“Look, you aren’t in trouble, you didn’t do anything wrong, I just want to understand why…” caretaker added quickly, shifting to turn his full attention towards Whumpee.

That proved to be a bad idea. Whumpee shrank back in the chair, eyes wide and blank like a deer in the headlights, his mouth open but no words escaping.

“Hey, hey, I didn’t bring it up because I was annoyed or anything… you’re a good kid whumpee, and I don’t want you to always feel like you’re in trouble cause you’re not. Alright?”

It didn’t seem like Whumpee could even hear him. He still just stared forward, his back pressed painfully hard up against the back of the chair.

“Hey, whumpee, you’re okay, you’re good. Can you hear me?”

The question at least seemed to trigger something, and he nodded quickly, tears starting to pool in his eyes. “Good, good, you’re doing great, kid. Look, I just want you to know that you’re okay, right?”

Whumpee nodded again, and Caretaker could tell he was holding his breath.

“It’s okay if you feel like crying, you can, you won’t be in trouble… I just was hoping to find a way to…I dunno, not scare you so much.”

There’s a moment of silence, whumpee still not breathing, then, it was like it all flooded out at once. A sob seemed to rip out of him, and he sank to his knees in front of caretaker, clasping his hands together as if in prayer.

“P-please… I don’t know what- what to do. What do you want me to d-do? I will, I will, I promise- Please, ju-just tell me, please!”

He was shaking so badly that it was making his teeth chatter, and though Caretaker couldn’t see his face from this angle, he knew it would be screwed up in fear and grief like it always was in moments like these.

Shoving his own chair back, Caretaker sank down to meet whumpee on his knees, putting a hand over his clasped ones. “I want you to be able to relax, okay? I want you to trust me. Trust that I’m not going to hurt you, that you’re safe here with me, okay?”

“I can’t!”

Whumpee immediately clapped his hands over his own mouth in horror. “I’m sorry- I didn’t- I- I-“

Caretaker could hear the way he was winding himself up, the reedy, wheezing breathing that was starting to take over, and he couldn’t let him keep going.

“Okay. Thank you for telling me.”

The tone of his voice was calm, matter of fact, but it seemed to stop Whumpee dead in surprise. He was still struggling to breathe, little hitches interrupting every breath, but at least he was still breathing.

“I’m glad that you were able to be honest, and so that we can work together, okay? That was really, really good kid.”

“R-really?” The look in his eyes was both awestruck and disbelieving, but Caretaker would prefer that over terror any day.

“Yeah. Really. Now, when you said you can’t, did you mean you couldn’t relax, or that you couldn’t trust me, or both?” Caretaker cut himself off, raising a hand gently, “It is okay, whatever answer it is. I just want to know.”

Whumpee was starting to panic again, his eyes darting from the ground then to Caretakers face and down again.

“Both.”

“Okay! Now, we can start off on the same page,” Caretaker gently squeezed his hand around both of Whumpees, “Is there anything that I can do that would make you feel more safe?”

Whumpee just cried harder for a moment, and he wondered if he had pushed too far, when he finally managed a weak “I don’t know…”

Caretaker opened his mouth to speak, but Whumpee kept going. “I want to, I want to, you’ve been nothing but good to me and I want to obey- I don’t know how- I’m so sorry…”

“Hey- Hey, kid, the last thing on my mind is obedience, I just don’t want you be afraid all the time… You’re a good kid, you shouldn’t have to feel afraid.”

To caretakers surprise, whumpee laughed, a quick short burst before seeming to get himself under control. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- I just, I doubt I’ve ever been ‘not afraid’ my whole life.” He sneaks a glance at Caretakers face, the drops his eyes to the ground again.

Caretaker sighed, feeling his heart pinch. “That’s okay… I’ve never had anyone else on this farm. We’ll just have to learn together.”

Whumpee nodded quickly, seemingly trying to get himself back under his own tight fisted control. “Whumpee, how about you sit out here with me for a bit?”

Whumpee nods, and caretaker relaxes a bit. But, he still wants to know why reading set him on such a narrow edge.

They both ease back into their seats, and caretaker looks around for a change of subject. To his delight, just at that moment, a bird flew into view and perched on one of the trees nearby.

“Hey, look at that! That’s a robin, it’s really starting to warm up. They start to show up in the spring, and that’s the first one I’ve seen this season.”

Whumpee squinted, then nodded, but, caretaker could tell he hadn’t actually seen it, only pretended to. Could he see it? The way he squinted made caretaker wonder if he could need glasses…

“Here, it’s far away, I’ve got a better picture,” slowly, he reaches for his book, and flips it open to the right page, “See?”

Whumpee still tensed up, but, didn’t panic. He looked, genuine interest showing on his face for the first time he’d ever seen.

“It’s a beautiful bird sir…” Whumpee managed, looking up again before letting his eyes fall back to the book.

“Yeah… and there’ll be more, soon.”

He nods, the slightest grace of a smile on his face.

“Is this the book you thought I would be reading? A book about birds?”

Whumpee tensed further, but still didn’t panic, thankfully. “No sir.”

“Is that…good?”

Whumpees breathing stopped, and Caretaker backpedaled. “That’s a bit to open ended, huh? Could you tell me what you thought I might be reading?”

That was better. Whumpee took a deep breath. “The Bible, sir.”

Caretaker felt his heart sink, but also relief. That explained…a lot.

He forced himself to keep the conversation light, knowing the next few questions he was going to need to ask would be hard. “No, just the bird bible I suppose…” he laughs, setting it back down, and though whumpee didn’t laugh, he did relax slightly further.

“Where you were before, after they read the bible, would you be in danger? Is that why it scares you?”

“Yes,” he takes another deep breath, then another, winding himself up once more, “We’d- We would have a sermon, after, and then… sins would be- would be forgiven.”

“Oh…” So that’s why caretaker could never figure out what Whumpee had thought he’d done wrong. He hadn’t been told yet what sins he’d committed.

“I sh-should not be afraid. Sparing the rod spoils the child, I understand, but-“ Whumpee sniffed, and tears dotted the knees of his jeans, “Sometimes I thought I was going to die…”

“Whumpee…” was all Caretaker could manage, horror taking over everything else.

“I d-didn’t want to die with- with sins unforgiven.”

“Kid… that’s- you don’t- that’s not forgiveness, that’s not fair at all…”

Whumpee just shook their head, wiping their eyes.

“Do you- do you still feel like you need to hurt to be forgiven?”

“I do. That’s- that’s what it takes.”

The uncharacteristic steadiness of that sentence made Caretaker very, very worried. “No, no that’s not right. Whumpee, have you been- when I tell you to go to your room, what do you do?”

“I-“ Whumpee had picked quickly on the shift in his tone, the underlying accusation, and seemed to brace himself for the answer he had to give, “I deal with them myself.”

“How?”

Whumpee just shakes his head again, pulling back further, and he wraps his arms around himself like a hug.

“Whumpee, you have to tell me, what have you been doing?” He needed to know, needed to stop this, stop it now.

He shook his head harder, and now Caretaker was caught with an impossible decision. He doubted he could force the answer out of whumpee, but he also couldn’t just let this go, not something like this.

“Whumpee, please, please just tell me. Please don’t make me have to ask again…” He wracked his brain for what was in his room, how any of it could be used in the wrong way, but he was drawing a blank…

“Are- are you going to make me stop?”

“Yes, I have to. You can’t- it’s not- I’ll forgive you, okay? I’ll do it, if you need to be forgiven, I’ll do it. Okay?”

Whumpee looked up, not just a quick glance but held his eyes for a moment. Fear, relief, sadness, all flashed by, but the one that held steady through it all was this bone deep, haunting sense of exhaustion… Whumpee looked defeated.

“I unscrew the top of the bed post… the screw in the bottom is sharp, but, it’s not enough. Please…” Whumpee reached forward with both hands, grabbing one of Caretakers, “please forgive me, please!”

“You have to tell me what you did wrong…” he’s stalling, trying to avoid having to deny Whumpee the “forgiveness” that he wanted so badly.

“I don’t know- I don’t know but I know I have done wrong, but I always do- I know it!”

“Whumpee-“

“You said, you said you’d do it-“

“But I have to know what you did, because I don’t think you did anything wrong.”

Whumpee let go, hitting his forehead with the heels of his hands as he sobbed. “You said! I n-need- I need to be forgiven- I need to be punished!”

“No you don’t!” Without realizing, he had reached over and grabbed Whumpee by the wrists, shaking him, “You don’t need to be hurt, you don’t have to!”

Whumpee shook his head over and over, practically howling as he struggled to free his wrists.

“Please, whumpee, please stop, stop! Listen to me kid, you don’t have to do this!”

“I do, I do, I do I do I do!”

“No, you DON’T!”

Caretaker hasn’t meant to yell, and he instantly regretted it. Whumpee stopped, his chest heaving as he tried to stop crying.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he loosens his grip on whumpees wrists, “Forgiveness doesn’t mean you need to be hurt. I need you to trust me on this. I need you to try.”

Whumpee drew his hands away, hugging himself again, and nodded. Caretaker didn’t know if he nodded because he agreed, or because he was afraid not to. At the moment, Caretaker would take either, as long as whumpee would be unharmed.

“Whumpee… Just sit out here with me. I’ll get us some tea, and we’ll watch the birds. You won’t have anything to be forgiven for.”

He shakes his head again.

“What is wrong about that?”

“There should be…no joy except through God.”

“So, you think you need to be forgiven, for being happy?”

He nods quickly. “You- you’ve been so good to me, and- It means I need more forgiveness.”

Guilt settled in a heavy layer over him, even though there was no way he could have known.

“But-“ he wracked his brain for half-forgotten Sunday school lessons, “God created everything, right?”

“Every leaf, on every tree.”

Caretaker had never believed in God, but, now he knew he had to speak for him.

“Every bird? Every breeze? Every sunset?”

Whumpee nodded, eyes on his knees.

“He made every leaf of tea and every grain of sugar?”

He nodded again, eyes still down.

“Then, how could it be wrong to sit outside, and admire his creation?”

Whumpee looked up, stunned, and then out to the dry grass, the gravel drive…

“So, how about that tea?”

“Okay..”

“Great,” Caretaker felt like he could breath again, “I’ll be right back then.”

When Caretaker came back, Whumpee accepted the glass of tea carefully, and, when his eyes met Caretakers, some of the exhaustion had melted away.

They sat, and watched the birds, until the tea glasses held nothing but ice and they had looked through every picture of every bird in his book.

It would take time, and it would take work, and trust, and lots and lots of questions, but, things would get better.

#I’m trying to get to all my asks #this was written in a 4 am burst so please forgive its failings #religion mention #religious trauma #self harm #tw self harm #deconditioning #whumpee #conditioned whumpee #religious whump #whump scenario #whump prompt #whump writing #rescue

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