Still sick, got better, got worse, getting better again. Feeling a little vindictive so here’s a little world-building for the BFM-Verse that involves Fluffies getting fucked over.
This takes place roughly a year after Requiem For A Doctor, there’ll be some references to a viral outbreak but you won’t be missing too much if you’re not familiar with the story.
Lewis Carter and Daniel MacMillan looked at each other, then at the pen with the green stallion inside, then back at each other. Both of them silently asking the other the same question.
Did you just hear that?
“That’s no happened before, aye?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“Wee man just sneezed, as in he’s got the sniffles.”
“I… shit, maybe.”
“ACHOO. Huu, Fwemin nu feew gud. Weggies hab huwties an smeww-pwace hab sticky wawa.”
Lewis and Daniel were dumbstruck, they had never seen a sick Fluffy before. At all.
Since Hasbio still hadn’t released the official DNA catalogue for Fluffies, a lot of people assumed that Fluffies natural immunity to diseases was built in through one of hundreds of potential donors. With how easily children fell prey to colds, tummy aches and chickenpox it was likely that Fluffies were designed to stay healthy so as to remain bright and happy by their child’s side.
More likely it was because Hasbio knew parents would not want to deal with two screaming, shitting, phlegmed-up messes when one of them was their own child and the other was a fucking Fluffy.
That wasn’t to say Fluffies didn’t get ‘sick’, but it took a lot to get them to that stage. Sepsis was rare but not unheard of, particularly if Fluffies fast-healing trapped bacteria in the wound before it could be properly cleaned out. Otherwise the only real illness Fluffies had to worry about was ‘heart-hurties’ and that could be fixed with a bowl of spaghetti and a hug.
And yet here the two men were, looking at a Fluffy who had genuine Fluffy Flu. Poor little Fleming was in a new world of pain, his whole body ached like he’d been pummelled by a metal-munstah, his nose was both blocked up and running like a leaky tap and he was sweating buckets whilst also shivering and holding his blanket as tight as he could.
Fleming looked up at Lewis, his bloodshot eyes letting out frightful tears.
“Woo-ish… am Fwemin gun gu foweba sweepies.”
Lewis swallowed hard, naturally Fleming would be terrified, having never been sick before this would feel like dying for him. As easy as it would be for Lewis to ease his mind, the truth was that he didn’t know, a human with a cold or a flu would be mostly fine after a few days, but Fluffies were weaker, their bodies unsuited to handling the same viral input as humans and since they never had any need for them, likely lacking in necessary antibodies.
“I don’t know Fleming, but I’ll do what I can to help you get better.”
“Huu, Fwemin nu wan gu foweba sweepies, wan see speciaw-fwiend gain, wan see babbehs.”
Lewis couldn’t help but feel like shit, Fleming’s mate Florence had just given birth a couple days ago, the second litter the pair had had since Lewis started bringing in new and old partners following the F.A.07 outbreak. Fleming had to miss the birth of his children because he was starting to take a funny turn, having been one of the stallion infected by F.A.07 in his isolation Lewis quarantined him as a precaution, only to now realise that it was a different illness entirely.
Lewis reached into the pen and stroked Fleming’s white mane. “I can’t let you see them just yet Fleming, not until I know you’re safe. But I’ll keep them safe until then, I promise you.”
Fleming sniffed. “Ok, Fwemin…kaf… Fwemin undastan.”
Lewis gave Fleming another quick scratch and turned to Daniel. “Take him down to the medbay, have Dr Foster do a blood test of him and see if there’s anything we can learn. I’m gonna check on Florence and her foals.”
“Aye, I’ll gies ya a bell if I hear anything.”
The two men shared a quick hug before setting off, determined to find out what the hell was going on.
Lewis found Florence’s pen in one of the quieter bays, due to precautions most Fluffy couples had a room to themselves until such time as Lewis was certain F.A.07 had been eradicated. While the Fluffies definitely missed playing with friends, the chance to raise their babbehs made up for it.
Florence was lazily laying on her side, two foals feeding from her teats while she cradled two more in her arms. Florence was always a good mother and Lewis heard her singing to her days-old children as he slowly approached her.
“Mummah wub babbehs, babbehs wub mummah, dwink da miwkies, make feew betta.”
Lewis felt a twitch in his heart at that line, and he started to worry. But he put on a brave face for Florence and knelt down next to her, she smiled at the sight of him.
“Hewwo Woo-ish, wiww speciaw-fwiend be bak soon, nu see babbehs yet.”
“I’m afraid it might be a little longer Florence, we’re still not sure what’s wrong with him. But I’ll try to make sure he meets them before they go off to their mummies and daddies.”
“Pwease du, Fwowence wub babbehs an knyo dat Fwemin wub dem tuu.”
“I’m sure he will. Listen, I heard your mummah song just there, is one of your foals not feeling good.”
Florence pointed to one of the foals on her teats, a tiny orange Pegasus with a green mane.
“Dat babbeh feew hot, bu teethie-pwace am shakies wike in cowd-times.”
Similar symptoms to Fleming, Lewis carefully took the foal off Florence’s teat, instantly getting a pained cry from the loss of food and comfort, and looked it over.
Even in his hand he could tell it was hotter than normal, small droplets of snot were stained on its nose and its cry sounded muffled by the blocked nose. But the Pegasus was a filly, F.A.07 only infected stallions, so at the very least it ruled out any connections, unless this was a mutation.
Lewis quickly shut down that thought and returned the filly to her mother, if Florence and the other foals were going to be infected they would be already, better to keep the family together and quarantine them all once more symptoms showed.
“Give her lots of love, and I’ll keep an eye on her as well, make sure she doesn’t have any hurties.”
“Ok Woo-ish, Fwowence nu wan babbeh hab huwties tuu.”
As Florence returned the ill filly to her teat, Lewis felt his phone ring in his pocket. He stood up and away from Florence so as not to let her overhear anything, just in case.
“Hey Daniel, you hear anything yet?”
“Aye, and it’s all a wee bit… strange. I’ll let the doc explain it all cause ma head’s fuckin spinnin here.”
There was a brief pause as Daniel handed the phone over to Doctor Foster, before Lewis heard the gruff but friendly voice of the good doctor on the other end.
“Carter, you want the good news or the bad news?”
Lewis chuckled, Patrick Foster was a jovial chap but his 20 year smoking habit had fucked his vocal chords, making it hard for anyone who wasn’t familiar with him to understand what he was saying, thankfully Lewis had worked with him for as long as he’d been at The Farm and was very familiar with his unique speech pattern.
“I wasn’t expecting good news Pat, let me hear it.”
“Good news is Fleming ain’t gonna die, he’ll feel like shit for a week or so, but he’ll live. All tests show him in rough shape but nothing reaching danger territory and his body seems to already be figuring out how to fight the disease. I’ll do more checks through the weeks but I think he’ll be ok.”
“That’s great to hear Pat, thank you. But there was a bad news attached to that and I’m worried what you’re gonna tell me.”
“This is the weird part Carter, I’ll need to do more tests but I think the reason Fleming got sick was because of F.A.07, I’ve tested him and Jasper, another stallion who also got infected and cured over the last year, both of their bloodworks shows a genetic re-write, a twist in their DNA that makes Fluffies more vulnerable to viral infection. It’s subtle and again I’ll do more tests to get a better reading, but I think Mongola’s fucked Fluffies in a much longer-term than even he understood.”
“Shit, that explains it. One of Fleming’s children also had symptons of a cold, but she’s a filly so I ruled out F.A.07, if Fleming’s DNA has been changed then chances are he’s passed it down to his kids as well.”
“You want to quarantine them, separate them from the others?”
“No point, Fleming and Florence already had a litter before Fleming got sick so chances are they’ve got the illness gene as well, not to mention all the cured stallions over the last few months who have also had foals that have been adopted out. Once you factor in breeding, escapees, integration with ferals, unscheduled breeding, and by this time next year we’re looking at Fluffy-Flu becoming a very real and very common affliction, plus God knows what else they might pick up.”
“Anything you want us to do Carter? I know this feels like familiar territory but…”
“No, no I understand thank you. Tell Daniel to meet me in Bay 45, I’m gonna start calling customers and letting them know the situation, hopefully we can flatten the curve before it becomes a world-wide issue. Until then, see what you can do to make a Fluffy safe pain-killer, least we can do is make them feel a little comfortable.”
“Sure thing, we got this Lewis, don’t you worry.”
Lewis hung up the phone and pinched the bridge of his nose, just when he was starting to bring it all back together, Josef Fucking Mongola kicks him from beyond the grave.
Lewis took a moment to curse the psycho doctor’s name, then the moment passed and he went back to it. He had a lot of work still to do.
