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#never seen that in apendix fics but it happens I hear?
writing-whump · 15 days
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👋 Hellooo
Sooo I've been thinking about some ideas for part3-something serious as you asked for opinions 🤭 (I actually even Googled for it tbh xd)
And I saw that fever, severe pain and infection related things are quite common after appendectomy. Well, if we consider that Hex's appendix infected and he stayed for a while like that (idk, a day or less?), it's possible that there's still some infection in his body even after the surgery which his shadow cannot heal. In short, I believe it's a good chance for Hector to whine and being grumpy due to really high fever, feeling sick (coughing and shortness of breathing are two other possible complications as I read on google) while Isiah and Arnie are taking care of him..
As I was the one who insists for Isiah&Hector parts I thought I should help 🤭 but I trust and love your imagination, so I'm sure you'll write another great part for them when you have time and energy!
Thank uu!! Take care&Lots of love 💕🤍
-🌸
Thank you for all the ideas & even research! That's so sweet. Hope this lives up to it :3
Appendix part 3
"Can I have some water?"
"Yes," came the immediate reply from Isaiah. Hector was currently draped over his lap, feverish forehead against his brother's stomach.
"But real water. Not that sweet shit you've been feeding me."
Isaiah laughed softly, his stomach muscles vibrating under Hector's ear. "It's a rehydration solution. You can't take more than a few tiny sips to keep it down and this actually helps. The water does not do enough."
Isaiah's voice was still a picture of calm, but Hector thought he was staring to pick up on the difference between real calmness and fake, carefully controlled big brother voice. He talked with authority, the intent to reassure dripping from each syllable.
Hector also noticed Isaiah talked more formally when he did this. The opposite of relaxing, truly.
Isaiah's hand landed on his shoulder. He rubbed little circles on his arm, waiting for Hector to tense up to start lifting him. He always waited for Hector to make the first move, the decision to get up, even if it was just a little twitch to his hands. As if he was scared not to do something Hector wasn't ready for.
It was kind of nice. It made Hector feel like he was in control of what could be controlled. Otherwise he was content to leave the rest to Isaiah. There was something very relieving about it.
It allowed Hector to whine and complain about everything, even though he could hardly come up with anything better himself.
His insides were boiling. Weren't you supposed to be cold with a fever? His clothes were sticking to his skin with sweat.
The cut on his lower right side was radiating pain. There was no comfortable position to be in, it just hurt. He shifted around sometimes just to try it, but every movement just send more spikes of the searing heat up.
Hector took shallow short breaths, as little as he could just to not move his stomach too much. It even still felt bloated, although he couldn't eat for the last two days.
Hector groaned when Isaiah helped him sit up, leaning back against his brother's chest. Isaiah held the glas with a straw to his lips. Hector drank greedily, his throat dry and hot.
Although the liquid was nicely soothing and cold, the sweetness almost made him gag. He held it in, swallowing heavily before almost choking on the next sip.
He coughed, doubling forward. His eyes went black with the pain that clawed at his stomach with the movement.
Isaiah quickly put the glass away, tucking Hector back against himself as his chest heaved with the painful coughs. He murmured something that Hector couldn't understand, carding his cold fingers through Hector's hair.
Hector whined quietly, glad for the contact. At this point it was a shock to him that he wasn't steaming from the way his insides cooked in his skin.
"You are okay, you are okay. Just breathe."
Hector managed a pained scoff. "It fucking hurts. Keep your stupid advice."
On some level he understood he was being mean and whiny and that he probably shouldn't be relying on Isaiah's endless well of patience. But he also couldn't really formulate why it was bad, his brain breaking his sentences in two before they were finished. He was going to figure it out later.
"Just four more hours to go," Isaiah said, but his hand froze in Hector's hair. He turned back towards the door as if hearing a noise Hector wasn't catching.
It was just great, that without his shadow he was basically deaf. Like a damn human.
"Could you hold on for a minute? I need to check something," Isaiah said, looking down at Hector.
"Yeah, yeah. Get out. I need a break from you anyway," Hector said acidly.
Isaiah sighed quietly. He gently maneuvered himself from under Hector without jostling him, easing him down on the pillows.
Hector slumped back against them, stretching his hands. There was a warm spot left after Isaiah.
He rolled a bit away from it, looking for coldness in the sheets. It was soothing for just a bit, the cool part of the pillow and the untouched cover...
Hector opened his eyes. Even his skin hurt. Looking up the ceiling felt nauseating and he felt like he was choking a bit more with every breath. They came hard and short. Hector was too fearful of the pain that would explode if he let himself take a deeper one.
He hated the way his stomach rose and fell so obviously. The round puffiness around it, the way his loose shirt brushed against the gauze on the wound.
He hated everything.
The wounded wolf reached for his shadow on instinct, trying to coax it up ahead of time. He could feel it stirring under his call, like a quiet warm presence at the end of his mind.
That was progress from the numbness from before. But it wasn't enough. It made Hector's chest hitch with a quiet sob at the helplessness.
He balled his hands into the sheets, digging his fingers into the fabric. Trying to find something grounding.
At least Isaiah's calmness, the warmth of his concern at Hector's back, the soothing trust this was just temporary small discomfort and he would be okay...Even just the pathetic way he would pet Hector's hair or rub those little circles onto his shoulder...something soft and pleasant to focus on in the sea of pain made a huge difference.
The weight of not having it suddenly hit him like a brick in the head.
Did he say something again that pissed Isaiah off? This was still such a new territory. It didn't feel natural to be so...so careful around Isaiah. Hector had never done it and he wasn't sure he knew how.
But Isaiah required more sensitive treatment now...why was it again?
Hector felt a wave of guilt and sadness wash over him, but just as it hit he couldn't remember why he felt that way.
There was just a new load of horrible-ness on top of the pain and heat and general ickiness.
"Is-" Was he really going to beg him to come? For real? Wasn't that even more pathetic?
He grid his teeth together, not sure why he felt like crying. He wanted...he didn't know what. To go home? To go away? How would that help?
Everything was so confusing. Why was he in this state again? And more importantly, why was he alone?
"Zaya?" Maybe he would know. Isaiah always knew everything. Especially about what to do next. "Arnie?" Or maybe Arnie. Arnie knew more about emotions than Hector ever could. His younger brother understood what hurt people and what pleased them with a skill of a chessmaster. Hector should ask him...what did he want to ask? It felt important. How could he forget?
He sobbed quietly, chest constricting with panic. The panic made the nausea worse, slimy heaviness pooling in his stomach.
Hector tried lifting himself up on unsteady arms, his mouth dry, but he could feel the goosebumps of nausea climbing up his arms and neck. His teeth throbbed. Oh god, he didn't want to throw up again, it always hurt...
No such luck though, his chest heaved. His stomach rolled, sqeezing and contracting back into itself as he gagged. He manged to drag himself over the rim of the bed, before his arms buckled underneath his own weight.
He dry heaved painfully over the edge, the pain in his wound burning like he was on fire.
That's when the door burst open. Isaiah gave him a shocked look, before his features smoothed out and he climbed up into the bed behind Hector.
One cold hand went to Hector's shoulder to prop him up, the other to his forehead. Isaiah helped him to lean over the edge. A splash of the sweetened water made its way up.
Hector whimpered from the pain, the gag turning into a ruthless cough right after.
"Shhhhh. I'm here, I'm here. You are okay. All good now. Deep breath."
I can't fucking breathe, he wanted to protest, but all that left his lips was a whine and a strangled burp, punctuated by more coughing. His chest hurt, another little note in the cacophony of pain.
Isaiah turned Hector over gently to prop him up against his chest again. It made breathing a little easier. As if he had heard him after all.
Hector closed his eyes. They were burning with the tiny drops of liquid that managed to force their way out.
Isaiah wrapped an arm around his forehead, petting his cheek and then his hair, pushing the sweaty blond curls behind his ear.
"Shhhh. Sorry, bud. I just called the hospital to check over the symptoms. They say the nausea is normal, but we should check you in if the fever doesn't go down soon."
"I'm not going back there," Hector moaned. "Look what they did."
"They helped you. If they didn't operate, your appendix would have burst and killed you. It's not that much harder to kill a wolf than a human," Isaiah said sternly, not leaving room for an argument. "Now try to relax. Your breaths are too shallow, that's why you keep coughing. You need to breathe properly."
"I want to lie down," Hector whined. Even slumped against Isaiah like a toddler and his head spinning, he wanted to lie lower.
"Can't do. Breathe for a bit. Your lungs need more space to stretch out. Sitting up will make it easier."
Isaiah still petted his hair and Hector didn't have enough strength to his pride to dislike it. He leaned more into the touch.
The panicked emptiness from before dissolved at Isaiah's touch and explanation. His chest undone from the knot, he dared to take a bit longer breaths, head clearing out as oxygen refilled his lungs.
"I got a new towel." Arnie stuck his head into the room, whispering like Hector was sleeping. "You think-"
"Yeah," Isaiah said, voice vibrating under Hector. "The fever isn't any better. Not climbing up though."
Hector forced his eyes open so he could brace himself for the cold touch of the water-soaked cotton.
Isaiah unwrapped his arm from Hector's forehead so Arnie could circle the towel around his head instead.
Hector sighed contendly at the coolness. He was starting to see a way out of this by focusing on everything nice that he could feel. Like little beacons of light in the suffocating fog of pain.
Fog was way better than a fire, after all.
He focused his bleary eyes at his youngest brother. The kid had dark circles under his eyes and there was a telling redness to them. With the wet eyeslashes and the shaky way he moved, Hector knew he must have been crying.
Was that why Hector saw so little of him?
The night felt like a week to him and Arnie was absent for most of its days.
"Hey, pipsqueak," Hector said in a rough voice, opening his palm.
Arnie knelt down on the floor, throwing the previous not cold towel at the splash of sick next to him.
He took Hector's hand in both of his, a tiny quiet sob escaping him at the contact.
"It's alright," Hector said. His voice sounded like he gurgled nails before. "Don't cry."
Arnie's breath hitched, but he tried to smile. He pressed his cheek to his own shoulder for a second to wipe it dry. "'m not."
"Did someth'ng happen?" Hector asked, suddenly confused at the possible reason for Arnie's distressed. He thought he understood just a second ago.
Arnie blinked at him, his eyes going to Isaiah in concern. He squeezed Hector's hand. "It's nothing."
"Uhmmm....Liar."
Arnie's giggle was watery. He climbed into the bed beside Hector, curling up against his middle brother's side, the only one of the three that was lying instead of sitting.
Hector made great effort to lift his hand and put it onto the top of Arnie's soft blond head.
Isaiah made a pleased, almost approving noise at the back of his throat, relaxing under Hector's weight.
The oldest wolf adjusted the towel around his forehead, then wrapped his hands snuggly and gently around Hector's waist. Avoiding the injury, but also holding him a bit straighter. Tighter.
"Just three more hours."
Hector nodded, leaning his head back, tucking it under Isaiah's chin.
Cocooned like this by his brothers, he felt like there wasn't that much that could happen anymore.
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