Lonely Place of Longing
Warnings: cut, wound, blood, hurt/aftermath, caretaker and whumpee, living weapon whumpee, i guess captivity and restraints?
“Welcome to Organization, Caretaker,” the Chairman said.
“Thank you very much for giving me this opportunity,” Caretaker said enthusiastically. Caretaker had always wanted to make a difference with their life. They knew that Organization—with their unprecedented efforts to keep the world safe—was the best way to do so. Though they had limited military training, and absolutely no background in technology management, somehow Caretaker had managed to get the job.
“Let me take you to your team. You’re going to be assigned to Alpha Team. They’re our most active. I’ll let Team Leader fill you in on your duties. They are your direct superior and you are to report to them.”
“Understood. Thank you, Chairman.” Caretaker hurried along to follow the Chairman.
“There are several teams. But Alpha has the most unusual members. Ah, Team Leader, there you are,” the Chairman stopped in the hallway as they almost collided with a hulking figure. Team Leader easily stood a head taller than Chairman. And a head and a half taller than Caretaker. They looked down at Caretaker with warm, dark eyes.
“You must be my new medic.”
Caretaker nodded vigorously. “Yes! I won’t let you down.”
“I’ll introduce you to the rest of the team. They’re in our portion of Base. What have they told you about our team?” Team Leader walked quickly. Caretaker had to half jog to keep up.
“That you are very active as a team. And that you have…” Caretaker’s voice trailed off. How would Team Leader take to having their team called unusual?
“We have a pretty big team. I’ll introduce you to them all in time. But I have to warn you. We have something assigned to our unit that makes us indispensable. Your job will be to manage and take care of that thing.”
“I won’t let you down. I promise,” Caretaker said eagerly.
“Do you know what a living weapon is, Caretaker?” Team Leader asked, completely ignoring Caretaker’s promises.
Caretaker stopped walking. A living weapon. They had heard of them of course. But never in their wildest dreams did they think they would ever see one, let alone work with one. They were supposedly the most dangerous assets Organization had at their disposal. Their enemies, of course, also had living weapons. A great number of them. Weapons were allegedly easily corruptible. Weapons were typically very, very evil. They had to be kept under lock and key at all times. Caretaker nodded. “They’re a human, well they were human to start with. And they’ve been imbued with…”
“With powers that make them more dangerous than an army of regular soldiers.”
Caretaker swallowed. So it was true. Living weapons really could level a city by themselves.
“We have one. They’re called Whumpee. Your job is simple, Caretaker. Keep Whumpee alive. Patch them up when we bring them back. And keep them in their quarters. They aren’t to be trusted with any freedom. No matter how much they ask, you can never let them out of our quarters unsupervised. Do I make myself clear?”
Caretaker nodded.
“And, Caretaker, please remember they are dangerous. They are deadlier than any gun, knife, or projectile you will ever see. Please remember that.”
Caretaker nodded again and continued to follow Team Leader. They half heartedly listened to Team Leader introduce them to Alpha Team. Over a dozen names and faces to memorize. But none of them were the weapon. And Caretaker’s mind kept drifting to the weapon. What were they like? What were their powers? Would they hurt Caretaker? Would they try to escape and hurt the rest of the team?
After what felt like hours of introductions, but Caretaker realized it may have only been half an hour, Team Leader was leading them away from the rest of the team. “Whumpee’s room is down this hall. I hope you don’t mind, it’s where we had to put your room.” Team Leader looked a touch embarrassed. “No one wants to stay down here near them. I’ve put in a work order to repurpose our library into a living quarters. Once that’s nearly ready we can convert your room to the library and then you can move. I’m sorry.”
No one even wanted to sleep near the weapon. How evil were they? “It’s ok. I’m sure it won’t be that bad. Thank you.”
Team Leader knocked loud and hard on a door at the end of the hall. “Whumpee! Open up!” Team Leader called gruffly. “You have a new keeper. Come meet them!”
The door swung open to reveal a small, spartan room. A bed was tucked into a corner, blanket neatly tucked in. A desk was not too far from there, a small stack of books and papers in the center. Caretaker could see a small balcony opposite their door that overlooked Base’s grounds. Caretaker swallowed as they realized the balcony was caged in. The other window had bars. There was no escaping this room.
Team Leader strode into the center of the room and turned to face the door. “Whumpee, meet Caretaker. Caretaker this is Whumpee.”
Whumpee leaned against the wall. Their pale blonde hair curled softly at their collar and they watched Caretaker with icy blue eyes. They were tall and lean, though their build didn’t betray the power that lurked beneath. Their clothes were plain—black shirt tucked into black pants, with black boots. The only thing adorning them were the silvery cuffs at their wrists—cuffs that Caretaker knew kept them from accessing their power.
“Nice to meet you, Caretaker,” Whumpee said, their voice surprisingly soft. Caretaker fully expected their voice to be low, grating. They didn’t expect a soft, pleasant sounding voice.
Caretaker swallowed twice before replying. “Nice to meet you, too.”
“I’m going to leave you two to get acquainted. Whumpee you are to give Caretaker a run down of your medical history and what they may need to know to be better than your last keeper. Actually, you can also let them patch up that cut from our mission this morning. It’s a small one, Caretaker. Won’t take you that long. I’ll check back in with you, Caretaker, in,” Team Leader looked at their watch, “an hour. I have a briefing with Delta Team to get to.”
Before Caretaker could protest, Team Leader left. Caretaker stood in the center of the room, their heart in their throat. Team Leader left them alone. With a living weapon. A being so dangerous they were kept in a room that was essentially a cage. And they had their powers suppressed at all times.
“Are you afraid of me?” Whumpee asked quietly. They hadn’t moved. Hadn’t attempted to get closer to Caretaker. Hadn’t tried to run out the door behind Team Leader.
Caretaker licked their suddenly dry lips. “Yes.”
Whumpee nodded. “Good. You should be.” They crossed the room and flopped onto their stomach on the bed. Caretaker could see a long, still bleeding cut, running the length of the weapon’s back from their left shoulder to their right hip.
The weapon propped their head up on their arms. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you unless Team Leader tells me to.”
“Do you always do as Team Leader asks?”
The weapon lay their cheek on their arm. “Yes. I am to always listen to Team Leader.” The weapon sighed. “The last one didn’t last long. There’s no shame in quitting. I won’t blame you.”
“My last keeper. They quit after three days. It’s ok if you are too scared. You can quit. Everyone does eventually.” The weapon seemed to say the last more to themself than Caretaker.
“Where’s your first aid kit?” If they got to work they could ignore the weapon and their ice cold eyes.
“You have your own?” This unit was much fancier than Caretaker thought. Each member got their own private med bay. Just how large was this space?
The weapon closed their eyes as though they were suddenly very weary. “No one wanted to share with me.”
Caretaker was silent. What do you even say to that? They looked around for the door to the med bay.
“You don’t need to dress it, Caretaker. It will clot soon. Probably.”
“You’ll ruin your sheets.”
“Isn’t the first time. Won’t be the last time.”
Caretaker very much did not want to be alone in the room with the weapon any longer. But they had a job to do. So they crossed the room to a door that they thought might lead to another room. They were right. The med bay was well stocked. They grabbed some gauze and anti septic so they could dress the wound.
Caretaker worked in silence. And the weapon was silent. Caretaker expected them to fill Caretaker in on their medical history while they worked. Expected them to say anything. But the weapon merely lay there and let Caretaker clean and dress the wound. “I don’t think it needs stitches. But I could glue it if—“
“It’s fine, Caretaker.” The weapon pulled their shirt off and over their head. Their back and chest were littered with scars, some older, some newer. “Here’s my medical history. I can’t get sick. I can’t remember if I did before…before I came here.”
Caretaker marveled at the scars. How was the weapon still alive? Some of them were serious, grievous wounds. “Anything else I should know?”
The weapon shook their head. They opened another door to reveal a small closet. They tossed the soiled shirt into a bin. They pulled another shirt from the drawer and put it on. “I am glad to meet you, Caretaker. No matter how long you stay here.”
