Suppressed Suffering - Tumblr Posts
Here’s my attempt at contributing to Whumptober
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Additional Tags: Self-Harm, Derealization, Angst, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Panic Attacks, Not sure if this could be considered graphic or not, But it is detailed so be warned, Whump, Actually I don't know if this can be classified as whump but I tried Series: Part 1 of The Nature of Dreams Summary:
It's a well known fact that you can't feel pain in your dreams. Legend would like to disagree.
Whumptober day 15: Makeshift bandages, suppressed suffering, "I'm fine"
makeshift bandages / suppressed suffering / I'm fine (I don’t need you to help me, I can handle things myself)
The sweater worked well as a makeshift bandage - the rich red color hid any blood that seeped out. It wasn't the only reason she wore it but it had certainly been useful as a tourniquet a few times since her revival.
The fabric chafed at the burns on her back but it was a better alternative than having those scorch marks visible to onlookers or exposed to the pollen-thick air of the Venusian city she was trying to escape.
Her hips and lower back still felt like they were on fire. She didn't want to get back to the Bebop and have to see in the mirror exactly what her skin looked like. If the pain was this bad, the flesh was no doubt beyond blistered.
Angrily drawing in a deep breath, hastily blinking back the tears that threatened, she tried to push all of the agony out of her mind. Suppress the suffering. Deny the vulnerability.
Judging by the carefully blank expression on Spike's face after he gave her a once over when she reached the ship… her efforts were not exactly succeeding. Then again, he was fairly perceptive and quite used to seeing her sweater looped over her arms and hanging loose, not knotted tightly across her waist.
He'd been gone on a different bounty when she'd left to tackle hers. Nothing unusual about that - they didn't team up often on small fries. Hell, they didn't often team up on high-dollar bounties either. Competition was a healthy thing, after all.
But maybe if he'd been there she wouldn't have been caught so close to the inferno as the building went up taking her measly bounty head with it.
Furious for the loss of cash as well as the sting of her overheated backside, she stalked down the hall towards the bathroom. Spike didn't bother trying to hide the sounds of his footsteps as he followed in her wake. For a bit she was able to pretend that he was simply headed to the couch for a nap but when he bypassed that comfortable piece of furniture his intent became clear.
Her temper flared.
"I'm fine." A lie. "I don't need you to help me. I can handle things myself."
He made a thoughtful noise. "Maybe I'm just trying to take a shower."
She snorted, stepping into the bathroom and attempted to shut the door in his face. A round-toed shoe blocked her effort. Giving up, she turned her back on him and began to gingerly peel her sweater from her body. Her jaw ached from how hard she had to clench her teeth to keep from whimpering at the surge of pain from tearing at the scabs that had formed in the time it took her to get back to the ship. She kept her eyes screwed shut to avoid crying.
"I'll give you some privacy to rinse off." Spike spoke from somewhere behind her. "Jet fixed that skin graft device. I'll track that down for ya." He was gone before she even had time to turn around.