whump-4-ever - Tumblr blog

whump-4-ever · 16 days

Text

Sam Winchester and Chronic Pain

Sam Winchester has suffered from chronic pain. In season 8 and 9 the trials made him chronically ill. I personally really enjoyed this storyline because it really shed a light on what it’s like to have chronic pain. Sam felt lost because there was no Doctor he could go to for help. There was no medicine out there to help him because this was an unknown illness. This is what it’s like for people with undiagnosed chronic pain.

Dean also got frustrated with Sam because Sam still wanted to live his life with his illness but Dean wanted Sam to “sit tight” and “get better.” This is one of the most infuriating things you can say to someone with chronic pain because for most sufferers, their pain is not going to go away or get better any time soon.

In 8.22 it may seem like Sam is doing a little better than he was in 8.21 but he’s not. He’s just getting better at managing the pain, a skill that everyone with chronic pain must acquire. In 8.23 the pain hits its peak and Sam is landed in the hospital and not expected to recover. So of course, Dean saves him with some help from Gadreel; yet Sam is still exhibiting symptoms of his illness. He’s not instantly cured. He describes it as “I just feel like my batteries can’t recharge.” When Vesta tells him “You’re all duct tape and safety pins inside,” he’s horrified because he was hoping that he was okay.

Sam starts to realize that maybe his illness is going to stay with him forever. He doesn’t want to deal with it for the rest of his life but this is where he realizes that this is a very real possibility. As someone with chronic pain I remember realizing that there was no cure for my illness. That there’s no treatment or medication out there that could fix me. It’s a horrifying thing to realize that you are going to be in pain for the rest of your life. This is what Sam is going through here. It’s an extremely emotional situation that Jared Padalecki portrayed perfectly.

Sam Winchester’s experience with chronic pain was very accurate. He exhibited all of the behaviors of someone with chronic pain and helped us all understand what it’s like to cope with it. He showed us that it’s okay to not be okay. It’s okay to be in pain and ask for help. And it’s okay to mourn the loss of your old, active life.

497 notes · View notes

whump-4-ever · 17 days

Text

586K notes · View notes

whump-4-ever · 1 month

Text

Yes, I like my characters suffering, but not because of the people they love. I don't like it when their love interests start locking them up or abusing them and I don't like it when their friends or family betray them. I want the character to suffer extremely horribly, but also be able to receive the comfort of their loved ones.

45 notes · View notes

whump-4-ever · 1 month

Text

literally me every single night

5K notes · View notes

whump-4-ever · 3 months

Text

Bitter-Sweet

Don’t ask what this is because I don’t have an answer for that 😂 just let me know if you’d like a part 2!

Whumpee huffed out a low, incoherent groan as he slowly drifted back into consciousness. Right away he picked up on the familiar sensation of fingers running through his hair in a soothing, repetitive manner and the warm, welcoming scent of perfume, the exact kind of perfume he remembered Caretaker always using. With a grueling amount of effort, Whumpee peeled sticky eyelids apart and blinked sluggishly a couple times to clear the blurriness from his vision. As his ability to see gradually returned, his surroundings going from fuzzy shapes to actual objects, he very quickly realized that he was laying in the back seat of a car with someone’s arms wrapped around him, holding him close. When he shifted just the slightest bit, a face materialized above him, hovering just a few inches away from his own.

“-an you hear me, baby?”

Caretaker, Whumpee’s brain supplied. A warm rush of relief flooded through him despite only hearing some of what had been said. He was no longer in Whumper’s compound. His team had come for him. He’d been rescued.

“Hey,” Caretaker murmured, her brilliant emerald irises, glistening with fear and distress, meeting his glassy, unfocused gaze. “Whumpee?”

Whumpee’s lips parted as he prepared his body for speech, but when he tried to talk, he found that his mouth muscles were horribly stiff. Despite his best efforts to form words, all that came out was a quiet, breathy groan.

“Shhhhh,” Caretaker hushed him gently, cupping his cheek with her palm and stroking her thumb back and forth in an effort to keep him from panicking. “It’s me, sweetheart. It’s Caretaker. We found you. You’re gonna be okay. Just stay with me, alright?”

‘Stay with me?’ That part confused the hell out of him. What did Caretaker mean? He was right there with her, and judging by how heavy his body felt, he certainly wasn’t getting up and leaving any time soon. A frown pulled at his eyebrows as he examined his surroundings again, aiming to understand why she was behaving this way, hoping to pick up on something he may have missed. Everything appeared to be normal, so what in the world was she talking about? “…wha’s….’ong…?” Whumpee slurred, a pang of worry shooting through his chest. That’s when it all made sense, when he finally saw it. There was a large, crimson-colored stain on his shirt, right where his abdomen was. He had no idea how he hadn’t seen it. It was at that moment that he noticed how difficult it was for him to get a good breath, and how much he was shaking, how weak his muscles were. “…C-C’ret’k….?”

“Shhhh, it’s okay,” Caretaker hushed him again, adjusting her position so she could cradle him as close to her chest as possible without making things worse.

“How’s he doing, Caretaker?” Someone suddenly questioned from the driver’s seat.

Whumpee knew that voice. He’d know it anywhere. How could he not? “D-Dad,” he wheezed.

Caretaker swallowed the lump in her throat before responding with a weak, “Just hurry.” She kept her eyes on Whumpee the whole time and started stroking his hair again, nothing but horror and desperation written into her facial expression.

That’s when the pain hit, and it hit hard. With absolutely no warning, a brutal, merciless fire ignited in Whumpee’s gut, burning furiously as if trying to devour his insides. Pulses of electricity zigzagged up and down his arm at the same time, causing him to grit his teeth. Then came the worst part, the agony embedded in his right temple that indicated a head injury. It was as if someone was digging into his skull with a sharp, jagged knife, and as much as he wanted to fight it off, he just couldn’t hold back the cry of pain that erupted from the back of his throat, couldn’t stop the tears from welling up in his eyes and streaming down his face.

“….f-fuck….hur’s so bad….” Whumpee choked out. He squeezed his eyes shut as his body shivered so violently that it could’ve been a convulsion.

“I know, sweetheart, I know. We’re almost there.” Caretaker bit her lower lip, her fear only intensifying at the sight of him. He was deteriorating rapidly, and she really didn’t know if they were going to make it. “Whumpee, I love you. I love you so much,” she whispered as she buried her face in his hair, ever so gently rocking side to side in hopes that it would do something to help. “Stay with me, sweetheart. Stay with me.” She repeated herself every few moments, praying to whoever was listening that they would get him to the medics in time. It was about five minutes later when Whumpee suddenly went limp in her arms. “Wh-Whumpee?” Caretaker cradled his face in both hands, staring down at his closed eyes as panic seized her heart. “Please hang on…..please….”

#whump writing #whumpblr #whumpee x caretaker #hurt Whumpee #whump community #whump prompt #writing prompt #writing prompts

13 notes · View notes

whump-4-ever · 4 months

Text

Please reblog this post if you belong to the whump community.

Let's see how many reblogs this gets!

1K notes · View notes

whump-4-ever · 4 months

Text

Say My Name

Just a little something I felt like writing 🤷‍♀️😂just so you all know, in this particular drabble, Whumpee is the “creature” and he’s based off of my OC Kyrin who’s not human, but he has a humanoid form and when he’s in that form, he LOOKS human

“You know, it’s amazing, really,” Whumper began as he observed the creature in front of him. It sat in a chair in the center of the room, its eyes aimed at the wall. It was looking but not seeing, its face expressionless.

Assistant focused his gaze on Whumper, brow creased in confusion. “What do you mean, boss?” He didn’t understand. The creature hadn’t done anything except breathe the whole ten minutes they’d been there. How was that amazing?

Whumper huffed out a laugh and grinned, still fixated on his experiment. “These things, as you and I know, are not human,” he said, still examining the thing in front of him, “but you’d never know that just by looking at them. In their humanoid form, they’re exactly like us, in terms of appearance, that is.”

Assistant cocked his head to the side for a moment, contemplating Whumper’s words. “I suppose that’s true,” he agreed.

“It’s quite fascinating, and I look forward to running those tests my supervisor would like me to perform.” Whumper then leaned in close and forced the being to lift its head by placing a finger under its chin and pulling upward. It obeyed, but its posture remained the same, completely unmoving aside from its steady inhales and exhales, and devoid of emotion.

Assistant shifted his weight from foot to foot as an uneasy feeling made itself known in the pit of his stomach. Something wasn’t right. He hadn’t much experience with these things, these creatures they were now calling ‘Kylinians’, but he’d come across them enough times to reach the conclusion that they were generally very powerful, and they were certainly not submissive little puppets. “Uh, boss, I think we should get out of here.” His eyes darted between the Kylinian in the chair and the exit.

Whumper glanced over his shoulder at Assistant and rolled his eyes. “You always were the one to pussy out when it comes to progress. This completely irrational fear of yours is exactly why they put me in charge.” After Whumper turned his attention back onto the Kylinian, an electric shock suddenly shot through him, zigzagging through his whole body. “Ah! Fuck!” He shouted, immediately stumbling backwards and cradling his arm to his chest as it began to throb. “You little shit,” he hissed angrily at the creature still in the chair. An aura of bright yellow light surrounded its body, electricity surging through each and every part of it, and its eyes now glowed a brilliant sapphire blue.

“It’s Whumpee,” Whumpee spat aggressively. Upon meeting Whumper’s gaze with his own, the Kylinian smirked, a smug expression on his face as he repeated himself. “My name. It’s Whumpee.”

#whump prompt #whump writing #whumpblr #writing prompt #writing prompts #whump community

11 notes · View notes

whump-4-ever · 4 months

Text

Reformed, Part 4

Please let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list OR if you are already on it and would like to be removed 😅

-

Once the seizure had ended and Caretaker had checked Hero over to ensure that they were still breathing okay and hadn’t injured themself, Caretaker had climbed onto the couch with them, their head in Caretaker’s lap.

“Their fever hasn’t gone down at all,” Villain murmured under their breath as their eyes took in what was in front of them, concern forcing a wrinkle into the skin of their forehead. Hero was damn near gasping for air now, each inhale and exhale a desperate, shallow wheeze.

Caretaker nodded their head in acknowledgment but did not speak. Instead, they began to brush Hero’s hair back with their palm, grief squeezing their heart and causing moisture to gather in their blood-shot eyes, their reddened, tear-stained face screaming to the world how emotionally distraught they were. Hero was their boyfriend/girlfriend, the man/woman they would give their life for. They couldn’t die, not now, not after everything they’d been through, and certainly not to something as simple as an illness. Hero was supposed to die many, many years from now, to something courageous like saving people.

Villain sighed heavily, unsure of what to do next. Nothing they’d already tried had had any effect on Hero’s condition, and taking note of how much worse Hero had gotten in such a short amount of time was enough to inform them that they were running out of options. “Your healing magic isn’t working,” Villain stated, breaking the silence. It wasn’t exactly a question, but rather an audible confirmation; it was Villain’s way of making certain that Caretaker was on the same page as they were in terms of the situation.

Caretaker shook their head in reply, sniffling softly as they continued to run their fingers through Hero’s sweat-soaked curls. “I don’t understand,” they whispered brokenly. “I don’t know why I can’t heal them. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Before Villain had a chance to respond, Hero suddenly moved, fidgeting where they lay and letting out an agonized groan as the movement aggravated their aching bones. Slowly, they then peeled their eyelids apart just the slightest bit and ran the tip of their tongue over their chapped lips. “…..d-don’….” they gurgled out, a violent shudder rippling through them.

Immediately upon Hero regaining at least partial consciousness, Caretaker wiped their tears away and shifted where they sat so they could cup Hero’s too-warm cheeks in both hands, stroking their thumb along their cheekbone in an affectionate manner. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” they murmured. “I’m here. I’m-“ they stopped mid-sentence, fear spiking inside their chest at what they saw. Hero’s eyes weren’t their normal hazel color, nor were they the radiant sapphire blue of the Tempestinians. They were glowing a bright scarlet red, the same scarlet red of a Demonian, Supervillain’s species.

Villain jumped to their feet and took a few steps back, adrenaline pumping through their veins. They were a Demonian. They’d rebelled, they were no longer working for Supervillain, and no, they were not responsible for what had happened to Hero, but they knew exactly what Caretaker was thinking. Seconds after they retreated, Caretaker’s head snapped upwards in one swift movement, their facial expression radiating fury. “I didn’t-“ Villain started, but they were quickly interrupted.

“You did this.” Caretaker’s voice was barely audible, their words threatening to break under the weight of their rage. “You bit them, infected them, didn’t you? You did this to them and then you lied to me about it.”

Villain could see Caretaker’s body visibly shaking with barely-contained anger even from a few feet away, but they refused to give in, because they knew they didn’t do it. No matter what it took, they would prove that. “I did fucking nothing,” Villain snarled back defensively. “If not for me, Hero would already be dead, and you wouldn’t have had a clue as to where they disappeared to until it was too late.” They clenched their jaw in an effort to remain in control of their emotions, but the anger inside them was rising rapidly.

Caretaker was now breathing so heavily that it was audible. “I’m not going to kill you,” they began, “but when I’m done, you’re going to wish you were dead.” They fixed Villain with a glare so powerful it sent chills down Villain’s spine.

Villain prepared themself for another verbal assault, ready to bite back and defend themself again, when Hero very abruptly shot up into a seated position. If not for Caretaker’s quick reflexes, Hero would have hit them in the face with their head. The room fell into a silence of anticipation as both pairs of eyes locked onto Hero, waiting to see what they were going to do next.

“I hate you,” Hero spat as they twisted around to face Caretaker. “I fucking hate you!” They yelled. Without warning, their arm shot out and they grasped Caretaker’s throat, their fingers curling around it. Then they squeezed as tightly as they could.

Caretaker choked out a startled gasp, their eyes going wide in shock. “Hero, i-it’s…m-me….” they wheezed, but their words only seemed to increase Hero’s anger.

“Fuck you.” Hero yanked Caretaker so close that saliva splattered onto their cheek. “Pick a god and pray, princess. It won’t matter who you choose. The elements have abandoned you, as have your kings and queens. The place you once called ‘home’? You’ll never see it again. In fact, where you’re going, you won’t be seeing anything for a long, long time.” They chuckled deeply, grinning widely before lifting Caretaker up into the air and throwing them across the room. They slammed into the wall with a loud ‘thump’. A sickening smirk of delight tugged at Hero’s lips as they heard it, overjoyed when they saw how much of a struggle it was for Caretaker to stand back up.

“I suppose now is as good a time as any to make my entrance,” came the sound of a new yet nauseatingly familiar voice from a darkened part of the room. Both Villain and Caretaker looked in the direction of which it had originated from, shock and terror written into their facial features.

“Supervillain,” they hissed simultaneously.

Supervillain stalked forward out of the shadows, revealing themself fully. “Why the surprise, darlings? You had to have known I’d be arriving to collect my prize.” They were in their wolf form, their partially-shredded wings spread out at full length to show dominance. Their eyes glowed the same scarlet red as Hero’s. “Ding! Dinner’s done!” Supervillain snickered at their own comment. “Well then. Sorry to cut this reunion short but I must be getting my newest team member home.”

Caretaker, still a bit dazed from bashing their head against the wall but capable of staying on their feet, stumbled over to Villain and stood beside them. Pain pulsed through their skull with the movement and a rush of dizziness temporarily distorted their vision at the movement, but they chose to ignore it. “No! You won’t be taking them anywhere!”

Villain gave Caretaker a warning shove, reminding them who exactly they were dealing with before clearing their throat and drawing Supervillain’s attention onto themself instead. “You’re trespassing, you know, Supervillain.”

“Nonsense! I’ve merely come to retrieve what was taken from me,” Supervillain replied. “Come, my child.” They gestured for Hero to walk over to them.

As Hero reached Supervillain and Supervillain had wrapped a wing around their waist possessively, Villain spoke up. “Bullshit! Nothing was ‘taken’ from you. Hero left on their own and I found them alone in the woods. For one thing, if not for me, they’d be dead. Second, if my history with you is anything to go by, I’m willing to bet they were running from something. They were not ‘taken’. They escaped, and you can only blame yourself for that one, you lazy bitch.” Villain’s heart thudded painfully in their chest, anxiety surging through them with each beat, but they stood their ground, refusing to take back what they’d just said.

Supervillain barred their teeth and growled sharply, their ears flattened to their head in a display of pure aggression. It was a warning. “This is your one and only chance, Villain. Hand Hero over willingly or I’ll do to you what I did to your parents.”

Villain had to bite their tongue at that last part. It was very clearly only said to piss them off, and they could barely contain the fury that threatened to consume them at the mention of their mom and dad, meaning the comment had done its intended job, but they fought against it. Instead, they answered with, “As Caretaker said: no.”

Supervillain didn’t give up easily. They never did. “You’re a stain on your family’s history, as were your mother and father,” they continued, sensing Villain’s rage and wanting nothing more than to play with fire. “You and your fucked up parents have tainted the Demonian bloodline with your betrayals. I can’t change the past, but I can have a do-over.” They gestured towards Hero, implying that Hero was their do-over. “With Hero, we’ll start anew, make up for your mistakes with new beginnings, starting with your punishment.” Supervillain then met Hero’s gaze. “Kill them.”

-

Tags

@morning-star-whump @whatwhumpcomments

#whump prompt #whump writing #whumpblr #writing prompt #writing prompts #whump community #hero prompt #hero whumpee #reformed villain

15 notes · View notes

whump-4-ever · 4 months

Text

I have written this post partially to vent but also to try and show others out there that have chronic illness, no matter what illnesses they may be, that they’re not alone.

-

This post is from me personally. It’s not in the perspective of any of my characters, and it’s not fiction or a prompt.

Often times I have to explain to people why I’ve never had a job or finished high school or learned how to drive. Sometimes when I tell them how I don’t work or go to school and that I spend most of my time sleeping, they will respond with ‘oh, you’re so lucky you get to sleep all the time! I wish I could sleep all day every day and not do anything’, or something along those lines and it’s infuriating to hear that. People think that I’m choosing to sleep, that I want to do nothing all day every single day. Let me make this very clear: I don’t get to sleep all the time. I have to sleep all the time. If I don’t, I can’t function. I can hardly function at all as it is. Chronic illness of ANY KIND is not a choice, and there’s nothing ‘lucky’ about it. I want nothing more than to just have my life back. I’ve been mostly bed-ridden since I was just 16 years old. I haven’t graduated high school, I haven’t gotten a driver’s license, I haven’t had my first kiss (haven’t even liked a guy who has liked me back), I don’t even know how to cook or use a fucking bank account or write a check. I’m so fatigued and physically weak that I can barely walk up and down the stairs in my house. Just the simple task of being awake drains my internal battery to the point where I’m so drowsy that I struggle to talk and think. Often times I stumble over my words because I’m so exhausted that they just get twisted up. Im also frequently forgetting shit, even if it happened two minutes beforehand. My point is that nobody who truly suffers from CFS/ME (chronic fatigue syndrome/myalgic encephalomyelitis) MCAS (mast cell activation syndrome), POTS (postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome), and CCI (cranio-cervical instability/cranial cervical instability) would ever choose to live like this. And it’s sure as hell not as easy as just ‘pushing through it’ or ‘maybe if you just try hard enough’, or ‘if you had enough willpower to do it, you could do it’. That isn’t how it works. That’s like telling someone who’s paralyzed that they can walk if they ‘just try hard enough’. An ex internet friend of mine told me a few weeks ago that ‘being tired is no excuse’. It’s not an ‘excuse’, and it’s much more than ‘being tired’. This fatigue is fucking debilitating and when people like him say shit like that, it really belittles the condition and undermines what sufferers have to go through every damn day. The same guy also said to me directly that: ‘there are so many people who are so much worse than you and do a lot more than you do’, and that’s when he told me if I he’d enough willpower, I could do things like getting a job or getting a driver’s license. That ‘willpower’ that he speaks of? If I didn’t have it, I would never even get out of my bed, so don’t fucking imply that I’m just not willing to get better and that’s why I’m still sick

#chronic illness #chronically ill #cfs/me #pots syndrome #mast cell activation syndrome #cranial cervical instability #cci

1 note · View note

whump-4-ever · 4 months

Text

Bc I started posting SPN content I feel it’s only appropriate that I say:

WINCEST IS GROSS AND NOT CUTE!

DO NOT REBLOG MY ART WITH THAT TAG!

I DO NOT SUPPORT THE SHIP AND ITS SUCKY THAT I EVEN HAVE TO GIVE THIS PSA!

THANKS!

36 notes · View notes

whump-4-ever · 6 months

Text

Reformed, Part 3

TW: Seizure, cursing

Part 2 -> https://www.tumblr.com/whump-4-ever/732499030072016896/reformed-part-2?source=share

Part 1 -> https://www.tumblr.com/whump-4-ever/732109179568930816/reformed-part-1?source=share

-

Caretaker ripped Villain’s front door open the second they arrived, storming inside so quickly that the noise startled Villain.

“Damn it, Caretaker! I told you to fucking knock!” Villain growled from where they were crouched beside Hero, adrenaline pulsing through their veins from the surprise of the jump scare. Sighing heavily, Villain rose to their feet and glanced over at Caretaker. “Hero’s-“

“Shut the fuck up!” Caretaker snarled as they rushed to Hero’s side. Upon reaching the couch, Caretaker dropped to their knees and very gently took Hero’s face in their palms, all traces of aggression melting away to make room for an expression of worry. “Hero?” They repeatedly stroked their thumb back and forth over Hero’s cheekbone, acid bubbling up in their throat as fear surged through them. Hero’s skin was so warm, too warm, and they were just covered in sweat, so much so that their beautiful brown curls were plastered to their forehead. “H-Hero? It’s me. It’s Caretaker. I’m here, baby.” Caretaker received no response from Hero. They just lay there, blissfully unaware of how quick and shallow their breathing was, of how dangerously high their temperature was, how seriously ill they were. “Please, baby. Please wake up,” Caretaker begged, staring down at Hero’s closed eyelids in hope. “Open your eyes for me. Let me see those beautiful brown irises.” When there was still no answer, Caretaker leaned down and slowly moved Hero’s head until it was nestled in the crook of their neck, cradling it close. “Please….” They whispered. “I love you so much.”

A pang of sympathy materialized in Villain’s gut at the scene before them. They wouldn’t dare admit it aloud, but as they watched Caretaker, picking up on the shear amount of worry in their words, the way their voice shook as if about to break, seeing how they touched Hero as if they were made of paper mache, all of Caretaker’s anger suddenly made sense. They’d never truly been mad, not during the phone call and not now. They were scared. Terrified, even. Villain understood, more than they’d like to admit, how Caretaker felt, and they wished they could do more to help. They didn’t know much about Caretaker, but they knew they didn’t deserve this. Yeah, Villain didn’t particularly like Caretaker, but that didn’t mean they wanted Caretaker to suffer. They especially didn’t want them to suffer the same way Villain had in the past.

Villain swallowed nervously before taking a step forward and laying a hand on Caretaker’s shoulder. “They’re gonna be okay,” They said softly. Caretaker flinched at the unexpected gesture but remained silent. That caused Villain’s anxiety to spike, leading them to believe they’d done the wrong thing. They drew in a shaky breath, preparing themself for the absolute worst, but it never came.

After a few moments of nothing but dead air, Caretaker sniffled and let out a choked sob. “I can’t lose you. I can’t!” They whispered to Hero.

Not quite sure what to do next, Villain went with their instincts and got on their knees beside Caretaker, their hand still resting on Caretaker’s shoulder. “Hey, they’re gonna be okay. Hero’s tough as a motherfucker. If anyone can get through this, it’s them.”

Caretaker, with as much gentleness as they could, laid Hero back down on the couch. Then, without any warning whatsoever, they whirled around and threw themself into Villain’s arms, uncontrollable sobs hiccuping their way out of their chest in waves. “Hero’s done so much for me, for you, for everyone. They can’t just die, not like this.”

Villain was in so much shock they momentarily froze. They hadn’t the slightest clue as to how they were supposed to react in a situation like this, so all they did was very loosely wrap their arms around Caretaker, hugging them awkwardly. “They won’t. I’ll make sure of that, okay?”

“But you can’t!” Caretaker cried brokenly, their voice muffled by Villain’s clothes. “We don’t even know what’s wrong, and now they’re hardly even breathing! We’re too late! We-“

A pained, deep-throated groan from Hero cut Caretaker off mid sentence. Caretaker tore themself away from Villain and scrambled back to Hero’s side, quickly wiping their tears before cupping Hero’s cheeks like they had before. “Hero?” They asked uncertainly, their heart galloping in their chest.

Hero peeled sticky eyelids apart and gazed up at Caretaker, revealing exhausted, bloodshot eyes. Their cracked, dry lips were parted slightly, and their tongue was sticking out just the tiniest bit. “C’ret’k’r…?” They slurred.

“Hey, baby, hey. Yeah, it’s me. I’m right here, baby.” Caretaker took one hand and laid it on Hero’s forehead, unsticking their curls from their sweat-covered skin and then starting to massage their scalp with the tips of their fingers. “It’s okay.”

Hero only hummed quietly in response, their eyes slowly rolling upwards as their head started to loll to the side, going heavy in Caretaker’s palm.

“Hey. No, no, no, no,” Caretaker took Hero’s face in both hands for the third time and very gently jostled their head in an attempt to get their attention. “Stay with me, sweetheart. Stay with me.”

“…’s not….” Hero murmured. Only the whites of their eyes were showing now, and it was just seconds later when their whole body went ridged, their back going ramrod straight.

“Hero!” Caretaker cried out. They felt sick to their stomach as they took in the sight before them, panic threatening to overwhelm them because they knew. They knew what was about to happen, and they were terrified. Being the team’s assistant medic, Caretaker had quite a bit of medical knowledge, and they, very easily, recognized the signs of an oncoming tonic clonic (grand mal) seizure when they saw them. They’d just never seen it happen to Hero. “Shit!” Caretaker hissed under their breath as Hero started convulsing violently. “S-Stay with me, Hero. I-I’ve got you. Just stay with me.”

-