Whumperless Whump event

Day 2: Black of Night, White of Bone...(Psych 2006)

Summary: Shawn's wrecked his motorcycle in the middle of nowhere. On top of that, his phone is broken... and maybe his arm too.

Notes: Thought of this while driving and almost crashed. So. That's how good it is, I guess.

Takes place during Spellingg Bee, after he crashes.

Also: day two of the Whumperless Whump Event

Ship: none

Word Count: 672

—————

Shawn blinked, the stars swirling around his vision fading away as he raised his head. As his vision cleared once more, he leaned his head back on the ground. What had happened?

He was driving his motorcycle from his dad's house. He'd had a flashback to when he was building a doghouse.

And then...

A blinding light.

Swerving to avoid hitting it.

Flipping.

Hitting his head.

Alright, he was all up to date. Now he just had to get up, find some help-

Shawn tried pushing himself up with his left arm, and immediately crumpled to the ground once more. There were fireworks exploding deep inside his forearm.

He looked over and looked away again. There wasn't much to see, given the low light of night, but what he could see didn't look good. There was torn fabric, along with something disturbingly white peeking out. Shawn must have hit a sharp rock somewhere on the way down and cut his arm clean open.

Pursing his lips, he used his right arm instead to prop himself up.

'Okay. Assess the damage.'

Well, he already knew his left arm was fucked up. He vaguely felt a sharp pain in his lower hip, in the socket where his left leg connected to his pelvis. That probably wasn't too good.

Slowly, so so slowly, Shawn gently lifted his right hand up again, squeezing his core to keep himself upright. He reached for the phone in his back pocket. Pulling it out, he realized it wouldn't be any good to him, as the screen was smashed into itself and the keyboard was hanging on by a few wires.

Muttering curses to himself, he chucked the useless phone somewhere to the left. This knocked him off balance slightly, and he hurriedly put his hand on the ground to steady himself. But he accidentally used both arms and found himself collapsing into the dirt and grass again.

Groaning, he situated himself up again. As he did that, he found his attention drawn to a small light in the distance. A streetlight? No, he was too far out for streetlights. Maybe a porch light? Whatever, he needed help. And fast.

Using his arm to push himself up, he tested his legs. The right one was fine, thankfully. The left one however screamed the second he tried putting weight on it. His shin felt like there were acupuncture needles digging in, and his hip socket as though there were nails being driven in by some wack engineer.

He bit his tongue to keep himself from yelling out, drawing blood.

'Great. Another thing to worry about.'

Gripping his right arm around his left, he abandoned his wrecked motorcycle and began slowly shuffling his way over to the light. His steps were uneven, left foot slightly dragging behind as he put most of his weight on his right.

Turned out, it was a porch light, and it belonged to a small cabin made of irregularly shaped stones. A wooden porch wrapped around the whole place.

Shawn didn't think twice before knocking arrhythmically on the door. He vaguely heard shuffling from inside as he leaned against the frame, beginning to feel a bit light headed.

Just before the door opened, he felt himself collapse onto the wooden porch.

Blood thundered in his ears, muffling the voice right above him. Strong arms slipped underneath his, and sat him in an upright position. A few seconds later a cold rag dabbed his forehead, shocking him just enough to take in his surroundings again.

An older woman with graying frizzy red hair filled his vision. Or at least, the parts that weren't obscured by a blue and white checkered rag.

"Don't worry, hun. We got an ambulance on the way, won't be too long now. Just hang on tight. And keep those eyes open."

Shawn nodded numbly. He blinked the fogginess that was encroaching away, leaning slightly into the coolness of the rag.

He distantly heard sirens, and muttered to himself "I hope my insurance covers this..."