Chapter Text
Cosmo wasn't sure if he would make it out alive, or at all. His throat stung with the cold wind, nose red and numb. White puffs of oxygen appeared in front of him with every breath, disappearing after only a second. His leg wasn't even hurting in every unimaginable way. Now I only a broken piece of flesh and bone, dried blood everywhere.
He remembered sprinting out of a room, his leg slowing him down tragically. With every step he felt white hot pain. Blood seeping onto the floor in wet, sticky footprints. His head felt heavy. Breathing not fast enough. Everything spinning. But he had to keep going. It was life or death. His bursted out of an exit door, hissing in pain as freezing wind whirled around him, wrapping itself around his leg. Without a second thought he slammed the door shut, running against the wind. Goosebumps covered his arms, his hair standing on ends.
‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅
Cosmo stumbled endlessly, trying to find a place to rest, his footsteps uneven. With another step, his foot caught onto something and he was falling forward, face first, onto the cold snow. Crying out as a wave of pain hit his leg, and now above his eyebrow, he rolled over. 'This was it. After everything, this is it. I'm dying.' He thought, his eyes half-lidding. His eyes closed.
"HEY!" A voice cried out, followed by crunching footsteps.
Cosmos eyes snapped back open, terror filling his veins. 'RUN' His mind screamed, but his limbs remained still. He tried to lift himself but failed, falling back into the snow. He let out a small whimper, trying to get away, anything. He couldn't be taken back. He couldn't. He wouldn't make it.
"Stay down! I'm coming to help!" It echoed again, closer. The footsteps got louder when soon a figure started appearing.
He was pale, with dyed red hair and mint green highlights. He wore fogged up glasses, which sat on his nose barely staying on. He was tall, presumably six feet ish. He was wearing a blue coat with a pink and red scarf wrapped around his neck, dragging behind him.
"Holy shit dude. . ." The tall one said, slowing down as he slowly saw the fear in Cosmos eyes.
Cosmo tried to scramble back, his legs moving slowly, but gave out, making him land with a small thud. His panted hard, the cold air making his throat hurt.
"Stay still! Don't move that leg." It hurriedly said, kneeling next to his leg.
Cosmo twitched, words unable to come out as he let out another small noise of pain. His vision fogged more, black spots appearing. He head lolled to the side slowly, but not all the way.
"Ay!" It snapped its fingers. "Keep your eyes open. Let me help you." It said sternly. It's tone sounded like it was pleading, but stern.
Taking a deep breath Cosmo managed to whisper, "Please." Before he lost conscious.
˙ . ꒷ 🍓 . 𖦹˙—
Sprout immediately shook their shoulders, trying to wake them up. "No! Wake up!" He yelled, before picking them up the best they could without hurting them farther.
The poor thing was probably in enough pain. When he spotted them, they fell into the snow. He had pulled over, screeching to a halt before jumping out of his car, bolting towards them. He shouted out towards them, hoping they would stay. But it became clear that they could've move.
Sprout put his hat onto the person's head, before running towards his car. His held them tight against him, trying to keep their right leg steady. His footsteps pounded against the snow, seeping into it as he got closer to the car. Finally he made it and wrenched the door open, carefully laying them down, before strapping them in and dragging a blanket over them. He shut the car door, hurrying to the driver's side and leaping into his seat, not bothering to buckle his seatbelt, he immediately tore back into the road and sped to his house, blasting the heat in the back row.
His knuckles were white from how hard he gripped the steering wheel, driving like a German driver. He felt how cold they were, and it shocked him. But he definitely had questions. 'Who were they?' 'How did they get here?' 'What happened to their leg?' Thoughts raced through his head as he screeched into his driveway, not wasting a second before picking them up again and carrying them outside, his shoes sliding as he ran into his guest bedroom.
He rushed out for a moment, before rushing back in with a whole drawer filled with medical supplies. He was definitely a medical professional if he had actual medical supplies. He grabbed his scissors and began careful cutting the pant leg that was on the mangled leg, having to careful remove the fabric that was sticking to his skin using warm water and gentle tugging. He then checked how exactly mangled the leg was, and he let out a horrified gasp.
You could literally see where the bones were, deep rigid gashes ran along his skin. There was barely any skin, just bone and flesh. Blood was dry, caked on the edges. This couldn't be saved, if it could be, just barely. But Sprout didn't want to amputate it without checking if they wanted it like that. So lifted up the person's foot gently, keep his leg elevated as he put on gloves. He got out disinfectant wipes, and patted them along the wound as carefully as he could.
He paused when they let out a small whimper in their sleep. Slowly he continued working down, collecting grime, blood, and who knows what else. Finally after finishing he threw away all the wipes he used, pretty much all that he had, before grabbing a roll of gauze. He wrapped it slowly around the leg, moving downwards at a slow pace, making sure everything was properly covered. He reached as the end it tied it off tight before wrapping the actual bandage around the gauze, this time more secure and tighter, providing constant pressure in case it started bleeding again, and support.
Finally he finished, wiping sweat from his brow as he took one last look, checking to make sure it was fully bandaged. It was this when he finally noticed the small cut on their eyebrow, it was like a nick. Probably when they fell? He questioned, before cleaning it and putting a bandaid on it like a normal cut, a stark contrast to the leg.
Then he grabbed a soft pillow placing it under the leg to keep it supported, and in case he had to do something to it in an emergency. Hopefully it wouldn't come true because even though he was a doctor, somethings couldn't be done at home. He want even sure if he could amputate the leg, if he had to, at home since he was literally, removing a limb. Snapping back from his train of thought he carefully adjusted the person, covering them in a soft blanket, and doing a quick look over in case of any hidden wounds.
Nodding in approvement he stepped back gripping the medical supplies he returned them back to where they were. In a closet.
As he walked back he heard a soft meow, Whipped Cream, his pet cat. He looked down softly, watching the small creature rub against his legs. Smiley softly he bent down and grabbed them, holding them against his chest he rubbed his face in their fur. He called it fluff therapy. Whenever he needed to calm down after something, or just needed it, he went up to Whipped Cream and face panted into their fur. And it always felt like Whipped Cream sensed when Sprout needed it.
Sprout let out a soft sigh, his eyes drooping. He was tired. And exhausted. He adjusted his position to look at the clock. 9:00 P.M it read, it's soft ticking echoing throughout the hallway. Sprout stood up, taking Whipped Cream with him he turned off the lights, heading to his bedroom he took off his shirt, and changed into sweatpants, not bothering to tie them.
His lean form moved toward his bed, where Whipped Cream was already laying on, purring and making biscuits on. Sprout chuckled to himself. It was so adorable whenever Whipped Cream did that. He pulled up the blankets, getting into bed he took off his glasses, setting them onto the nightstand he curled around the fluffy white cat. His eyes closed, sleep instantly taking ahold of him as he dozed off softly, letting out quiet snores.