can I order some delirium? confusion, disorientation... maybe with a side of thinking caretaker is whumper?
thanks! 💖💖💖
Hi dear! So sorry for the wait, the hustle got the best of me… But I’m here to serve now! Enjoy 💖
PS: You didn’t specify if you wanted caramel or chocolate sauce (aka pronouns), so I self-indulged with the sprinkles, I hope that’s alright!
- Max
They stumbled inside Caretaker’s room with their eyes glazed over and their breathing shallow. Their mind was blank, so impossibly blank, and they felt unable to form a coherent sentence. Instead, they just stood there, staring into space. Swimming in darkness.
“Whumpee?” Caretaker called softly, frowning. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He stood up promptly from his bed and walked up to them.
They shook their head several times, lips parted, eyes wide with the pupils dilated like they had been drugged. Their dazed silence was terrifying to Caretaker.
“Is it Whumper?” he asked. “What did he do? Whumpee, talk to me, what did he do?”
Upon another absence of reaction on their part, he guided them to the bed and sat them down. Their head bowed mechanically, and so he crouched in front of them to be at eye level with them. He rubbed their knee hoping it would be of some comfort, feeling his own stomach twist into knots with how powerless he was in helping them. They were an empty shell, like their very soul had been stolen. They didn’t even seem to know where they were.
“What has he done this time? Did he give you something? Did he hurt you?”
Still nothing. He placed a hand on their shoulder to try and get them to at least acknowledge his presence. That was when their voice returned.
“NO!” Their face contorted in terror as they stared at Caretaker. “Don’t touch me! Whumper, please, no!”
His blood ran cold. “Whumpee, Whumpee, it’s me! It’s me, it’s Caretaker!” He cupped their face to get them grounded.
But they looked haunted, and they were still thrashing and sobbing and shouting. “No no NO! I don’t want you in my head, PLEASE!”
They pushed themself up and lunged forward like they wanted to flee, but their knees buckled beneath them, and they tumbled down. They screamed as if their whole body were on fire and then curled up into a ball and rocked back and forth.
Caretaker rushed to their side. He hesitated before touching them but eventually gripped their shoulders and forced them to face him. “Whumpee—”
“No, no, Whumper, PLEASE!”
“HEY! Snap out of it!”
They kept begging and crying. Caretaker was out of ideas. The only thing he could come up with in that moment was slapping them. Hard.
It felt terribly wrong. He watched them freeze, and the apology hung on his tongue. Yet, the guilt subsided the second they gasped for air, as the fog cleared from their vision.
“Caretaker?” They swallowed thickly, glancing around with a disoriented expression. “What—”
He shushed them gently, but worriedly. “It’s alright, it’s just me. You’re safe, okay?” He helped them up and guided them back to the bed. “You’re alright. I’m here. No one will hurt you.”
Whumpee gave a slow nod as they let reality sink back in. Heavy, but relieved silence settled over them and remained for a couple of minutes.
“Can you tell me what happened?” Caretaker risked eventually.
“I…” They chewed on their thumb. “I was just having a drink with Whumper, like we usually do in the evening and then...” Their forehead creased as they tried to remember. “Then I think we had a fight. And he…” Their head throbbed and they fell silent again, wincing in pain.
“Then he, what?” Anger was starting to run like fire through Caretaker’s body. “What did the bastard do?”
They ran a hand through their hair, whispering softly. “I can’t remember.”
“Are you making excuses for him again?” he accused. His jaw set. “I keep telling you he’ll hurt you and you don’t listen. For god’s sake, Whumpee, when are you going to stop pretending that he is your friend? Stop protecting him!”
They gazed up at him with gray eyes filled with hurt. “You’re being unfair.”
“And you’re being stupid!”
They turned away slightly, pausing for a while. “I think he tried to brainwash me.” They held back the ‘again,’ though they both knew. Their tone was low and resigned.
Caretaker instantly felt bad for lashing out. “Gosh…” He sighed deeply and sat down next to them on the bed, rubbing his forehead. “Look… I’m sorry. It’s just… Every time is worse than the last one. I always pick up the pieces, and I’m... I’m worried.”
They stayed quiet for a minute. “I’m sorry, Caretaker.”
He sighed again. “No. Don’t be sorry.” He pulled them in gently, wrapping a protective arm around them and allowing their head to rest on his shoulder. “It’s not your fault.”
Silent tears welled up in their eyes. They let them roll down their cheeks and the crook of their neck as they leaned fully against him.
And Caretaker repeated the words, softly. ‘It’s not your fault.’
You've been served by Max! Leave a tip if you liked the meal :3
37 notes
·
View notes