Sleepy Buddies [REWRITE] //Dreambur

Chapter 13- ✨A cHiLd✨ (NO)

TW- Semi-intense gore.  First time I've had to use this in a while

//

Phil grabbed under the kid's arms and dragged them inside as Techno picked up his legs and kicked the door closed.

"Will, can you get me the first aid?"

"Yep!" Will ran off.

"Tommy, go grab some extra clothes. Tubbo, blankets?"

Both boys nodded and raced to their room.

"Dream, help me over here. Techno, do whatever you need to."

"I'm good, I can help."

Dream hurried over and got his first good look at the kid. He had the most curious features, with half black half while skin that was a little splotchy in some places. His body was long and lanky, with no discernible muscle or fat; he was a malnourished phantom of a boy. His hair was also a curious mix of black and white, and it was tangled with sticks, dirt, and blood. Also, it looked unkempt and probably hadn't been cut in a while.  He looked like an Oreo, or maybe a Dalmatian. He wasn't a dog hybrid though, if the small horns adorning his head were any indicator.

His eyes were closed and his breathing labored, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Large gashes and bruises coated his body, leaking blood all over the table and probably staining the wood. A particularly bad one ran from his collarbone to beneath his ragged shirt, which was torn and ripped in many places. Some parts of his skin looked shredded off, deep gouges leaving loose flaps of skin.

"Dream, cut the shirt off," Phil instructed as he handed him a pair of scissors. Dream nodded and did as he was told, gently peeling away the bloody, dirty fabric. The kid's body was even worse than before, with dirt in his wounds and even more blood and bruises to show for. The ripped up skin was even worse here, making Dream hiss under his breath. Wilbur came back with the kit and Phil took it.

He started to pull out clean cloth, applying pressure to the worst of the wounds and handing some of the cloth wordlessly to Dream who did the same. The wounds were mostly shallow, but a few were deeper and more severe. The ones with the shredded skin and pieces of metal stuck in them looked to be the most serious. Phil pulled away and grabbed rubbing alcohol.

"Hold him down," he warned. Techno and Dream both did as he asked, and Phil started to pour alcohol onto the rag. The fumes wafted over and Dream wrinkled his nose. Phil gently pressed it to one of the shallow cuts and the kid twitched, his face scrunching into a frown. Phil gently wiped away the dirt and grime, bandaged the wound up, then moved on to the next.

A few rounds later and the kid gasped loudly, bolting upright with a yell as Phil tugged a piece of shrapnel out of his side with some tweezers. Phil jumped back and Dream let go of him once he stopped flailing. He had stunning green and red eyes and they fluttered anxiously, darting around the room.

"Whoa, lay back down," Phil said, gently grabbing the kid's shoulders and gently directing him to lay back down. "You're really hurt, it's a miracle that you even made it here."

The kid gasped for air like a fish out of water but nodded and laid back down. He continued to examine the people around him and the room, eyes darting all over the place and pupils enlarged.

"What's your name," Techno asked calmly, squeezing his arm in a surprisingly friendly manner. The boy's attention shot over to him and he cleared his throat, wincing.

"Ranboo."

"Hello Ranboo, you're safe now. But we need you to relax so you don't hurt yourself even more. Can you do that?"