[ENTRY APPROVED, WELCOME MISS LARUE. PLEASE REPORT TO ROOM 402 AT YOUR EARLIEST CONVENIENCE.]
You smiled as the door slid open, a small spring in your step as you walked to your locker. You had submitted the request to move to the psych wing and clearly from the request to report to the fourth floor it had been approved. No more handing tools to surgeons! No more ER shifts! No more getting bitten and shit on by ferals that couldn’t get it through their stupid head that you were trying to help them!
“Morning Romero!” You said, setting your bag down in your locker.
“You’re in a good mood.” He said, taking his jacket off.
“Got a new assignment.”
“No fucking way!” He threw an arm over your shoulder. “Where at?”
“Psych.” You shoved him off playfully. “Hope you have fun in the ER, I was told I’d be playing huggy tag all day.”
“What did you have to do to get that?” You heard Maryam seethe from the other side of the room.
“Nothing really.” You smiled over your shoulder, your grin widening as she glared back at you.
“Oh I’m sure it was nothing…” She trailed off, rolling her eyes.
Your hand paused, holding your jacket over the hook on your locker door. “…What’s that supposed to mean?”
She shot you a wicked smile. “You get called to the top floor to talk to some executives and instead of getting in trouble or fired you somehow come out with a promotion?”
“It was just to talk about a… misunderstanding.” You faltered, unsure what to call the situation.
“Oh, I’m sure. Bet you misunderstand really well, don’t you?” she said in a mocking, sing-song voice while twirling a strand of her hair around her finger.
“Fuck off.” You grabbed your pager and stormed out of the locker room.
“Hey Maryam, what the fuck?” you heard Romero ask, but didn’t hear her reply on your way to the elevator. You didn’t pick this job to make friends. You took a few deep breaths while you waited for the doors to open. You needed to make a good impression on your first day. The elevator dinged, and you stepped in and pressed the button for the fourth floor. You smoothed your hair back, and tried to regain your composure. This was a new space, a new stomping ground for you. You would not let some jealous bitch ruin your new opportunity.
The elevator dinged and you stepped in as the doors slid open. You stepped in and hit the button for the fourth floor. Another few deep breaths as the elevator rose, you felt your smile return to you. The thought of Maryam cleaning up a shat on intake room while you watched fluffies stack blocks filled you with a sort of cruel joy, and put the spring back in your step as you made your way down the hall. Even if this wasn’t forever, you were doing a cushy job while your fellow residents were doing some of the worst and it was all because you were one of the “best and brightest”, as Major Anderson called you. Your smile spread into a grin. Best and brightest, with a future in the hospital.
Room 402 was just down from the psych wing, and an older man helped you get your new badge. He tapped at a screen for a moment before directing you to a printer on the other side of the room, where a plastic card was ejected. You smiled, looking down on your naive, hopeful picture taken when you first started. Maybe you should try that hairstyle again, the blue hair over one eye really did suit you. As you picked it up, still warm from the printer, you saw a small blue lock in the bottom corner labeled with a number two. A security clearance, like what made you able to access Donor’s room. You still didn’t know exactly how far the security system went, but if you could get level two just as a resident it must be one of the lower levels. How high could it go? It made sense to assume it was out of ten, but that seemed like a very high number of levels for a fluffy hospital. What would even need to be hidden so well, new colors of bio toys? You shook your head at the thought, replacing your old badge on the reel.
“Good luck, young lady.” The old man said, going back to tapping away at his screen.
You waved over your shoulder as you skipped down the hall to the psych wing door. You pressed your badge to the scanner and heard the triumphant chime.
[ENTRY APPROVED, WELCOME MS. LARUE]
The doors slid open, and a slightly startled Dr. Davis stood on the other side.
“Oh! Hi LaRue!!”
“Good morning! Hope I didn’t keep you waiting, sir!”
He waved you off, stepping into the hallway. “None of that “sir” stuff, just call me Davis like everyone else!” He smiled warmly, and you returned it. He was a kind guy, you were really looking forward to working under him.
“Alright, Davis! Where do you want me to start?”
He gave you an apologetic look. “I just got called into a meeting, so I can’t help you get settled today. If you go to the break room on the left there-” he pointed down the hall “-you’ll find Walters, he’ll get you settled in. He’s a great guy. Kinda quiet. Have a good day!” He waved as he jogged away.
“You too si- you too!” You waved back then turned and entered the wing.
The scent of lavender was heavy in the air as you walked down the pastel hall. You could hear the sounds of fluffies talking over the happy music, but unlike the ER and the other wings you had spent time in, none of them sounded in distress. You peeked through the window into one of the treatment rooms, seeing a round man sitting on the padded floor with a pair of fluffies. He smiled as they stacked blocks together, each taking a turn to set one atop the pile while the others clapped either their hooves or hands together. You shook your head, continuing on down the hallway.
The break room was not painted the calming pastels of the rest of the wing, instead sticking to the sterile white of the rest of the hospital. Against one wall was a beat up fridge rumbling along, a sign printed onto neon yellow paper reading “NOT FOR SPECIMENS ‘’ was taped to the front and surrounded by colorful letter magnets. Next to it stood a rather fancy looking coffee machine and a vending machine with various snacks.
“Are you Miss LaRue?” A timid voice asked, and a young man stood from one of the tables.
“Yep, you Walters?” You held out your hand to him.
“Yeah, Dr. Davis said I needed to introduce you.” He ignored your outstretched arm and started down the hallway. “Come with me.”
“…Alright.” Weird guy. You followed him a few doors down from the break room.
“This is Dr. Jackson’s office, she’s-” He was cut off by a shout from inside.
“Just come in!” Walter jumped like he’d heard a gunshot, recoiling from the door.
Her voice was sharp and somewhat familiar, and as you pushed the door open you saw a thin woman sitting on a large leather office chair. The rich smell of coffee cut through the lavender of the hallway and an ornate blue and white mug sat on a saucer next to her keyboard.
“Welcome, Miss LaRue. I’ve heard a bit about you.” There was no emotion to her voice and none behind her steel grey eyes.
“Nice to meet you, Ma’am.”
“We’ve met before. When Davis picked up the feral.”
“Right.” You vaguely remembered her, when you triaged the fluffies from the french quarter incident. She was awfully concerned about the cost of treatment for the one you brought up, and from the tone she spoke in she still wasn’t happy about it.
“That feral could use some one-on-one.” She slid a folder over to you. “It’s just basic care, keep an eye on her for the day. An easy assignment to start with, if you’re interested.”
“I am, thank you ma’am.” You took the folder, seeing a picture of a somewhat healed Primrose peeking out from the top page.
“Good. Have Walters show you the protocol. We’re rather strict here,” she looked at you, silver eyes boring into you, “so no snooping places you’re not supposed to be.”
“Of course ma’am. Learned my lesson.” There it was, you were starting to wonder if your actions would have any real consequences. Your incident on the night shift seemed to be public knowledge at this point, between the doctors and now Maryam who knew what rumors were flying about you.
Dr. Jackson dismissed you with a hand wave, picking up her mug with the other. You rejoined Walters in the hallway, gently shutting the door behind you. He had his hands nervously clasped in front of him, staring at his feet.
“She usually worse?”
“…No, that’s about as bad as she gets.” He didn’t look up at you. Really weird guy.
“…Okay… Can you show me what she meant by protocol? I’ve only ever been on the emergency wards.”
“Yeah. Follow me.” He shuffled further down the hall. “The main thing is you don’t answer any questions.”
“None?”
“No. Not even stuff like when meals will be.” He pressed his badge against a hall door, you briefly saw that his badge was adorned with a green lock and the number four. “You never know what the doctors are doing, so it’s best to just leave it.”
“So… what do I say then?”
“I usually say I don’t know, if they’re really persistent you can go ask one of the doctors, but it’s best to just change the subject.” He held the door for you, and you entered a room lined with kennels. “These are our long term residents, these are the ones that don’t ever leave.”
He flipped on the lights, and a few fluffies grumbled as they woke up. On one wall were two rows of standard kennels, a few of the cages somewhat decorated with things like cloth curtains and colorful magnets. On the wall next to the kennels was a counter and exam space with some equipment hanging on the wall and some pasted up drawings. The rest of the room was set up very much like the one you left Primrose in with padded floors and a small pile of toys including what seemed to be a tiny couch facing a screen embedded in the wall.
“Good morning fluffies!” Walters called, his nervous demeanor gone.
“…Fwuck off…” A small voice trailed off.
“Richard! Language!” he snapped at one of the lower kennels. “I have someone for you to meet, don’t you want to make a good impression?”
“Wan’ sweep moah.” The fluffy replied.
Walters rolled his eyes. “That’s Richard, we’ll get to him I guess.” He opened the first kennel containing a somewhat rotund white alicorn with a pale blue mane. “Time to wake up, Ella!”
As if she was waiting for the command her eyes shot open. “Good mownin’ nice mistah!” She scrambled into the upsie pose so he could pick her up.
“This is Ella, we’re not totally sure what’s up with her. She has to follow every command anyone gives her and occasionally get some tumors in her abdomen. Say hi, Ella!”
“Hewwo!” She waved her hoof at you happily. You returned it to her, getting a giggle from her. Her belly was rounded, almost as if she was in one of the mid stages of pregnancy.
“Why don’t you go play while we wake up everyone else.”
“Otay nice mistah!” Walters set her down and she trotted over to the toys.
“So like… every command?” You asked, leaning against the exam counter.
Walters nodded. “It’s really sad actually, she won’t even eat unless someone explicitly tells her to. She’s one of my favorites though, such a sweet girl.”
“Hm.” You’d never seen anything like it. Fluffies were known for being bratty and obstinate, as far as you knew only the first gen of Hasbio originals had traits like this. Maybe one of the doctors would answer some questions about her when you had the time.
“This little guy here is Nugget.” Walters opened the next kennel where a yellow and orange fluffy lay with his legs sprawled out in front of him.
“Hewwo nice wady.” he barely lifted his head off the kennel floor. Walters picked him up and set him on the padded floor in front of the kennels. “Uh, can fwend cawwy Nugget to toysies? Nu can maek guud wawkies.”
“Yes you can, Nugget.” Walters put his hands on his hips.
“Nu can!” he protested. “Weggies nu guud, nee gu way!”
“Your leggies are just fine. Dr. Jackson says you need to do more walking.”
“Buh nu wan…” the fluffy whined, setting his chin firmly on the floor.
“He’ll walk when he gets bored. Always does.” Walters stepped over him to the next kennel.
You opened your mouth to ask about him, but remembered some of the training you got early on at the hospital. You wanted to ask why he wasn’t just pillowed if he hated his legs so much, but that was one of the forbidden topics. For normal fluffies the mention of amputations would send them into a screaming inconsolable frenzy, which was honestly understandable. Humans did about the same. Nugget was clearly a special case, but you still shout err on the side of caution. It was only your first day here.
“Good morning Maggie! We have a new friend here to meet you.” He pulled the curtain aside on the last kennel of the top row, revealing a wine colored pegasus with a burnt orange mane. She lifted her head, she wore a muzzle that reminded you a bit of Silence of the Lambs.
“Hewwo! Am Maggie!” She smiled at you through the metal bars.
“Hi there!” You smiled at her.
“Wan gib Maggie petties? Wub fingies.”
“Maggie, no.” He pointed at a sign taped to the front of her kennel, declaring her a “BITE RISK”. “You know better.”
“Maggie jus’ wan petties! Nu wan num dewicious fingies!!!” She looked up at you with big, innocent eyes.
“Ooh, you’re a fun one.” You leaned into the kennel. “If I put my fingers in there you wont bite me? Not even a little bit?”
Her eyes flicked between you and Walters. “…Mabbeh a wittow bities. Jus’ a wittow.”
“Mh-hm… Yeah.” You leaned back, smiling with your arms crossed. Maggie was one you could see yourself getting to know. You’d gotten the standard education about cannibal fluffies, they were a somewhat rare effect of overpopulation. They differed from the normal fluffy population in that they had a strong hunting instinct and an urge to eat meat. Some rumors flew about them being physically stronger but it was almost entirely from diet and lifestyle differences. There was a small genetic component, but no one had really figured out how to reliably breed one. Some claimed they could breed them, selling them as Hunting Friends, but they were almost entirely found ferals. Trauma could induce the behavior, but trauma could induce any behavior with enough work and the artificially made ones almost never had the blood lust the natural ones did. Buying them was almost always a scam, anyone with a legitimate cannibal fluffy wouldn’t sell it for any amount of money that the average person could afford.
“Anyway, I’ll be back with your breakfast in a little bit. It’s Nugget’s turn to be out first.” Maggie made some annoyed noises and turned back to settle into her bed. “It’s super important that Maggie and Nugget not be out of their kennels at the same time.”
“Yeah, I think I can put together why.” Nugget was still laying where Walters set him, staring up hopefully at Maggie’s kennel. All it would take was her getting that mask off and they would both have their wish.
“She has to keep the mask on when she’s not actively eating, she will bite herself if it’s not on. Otherwise she’s a good girl, doesn’t fight it or anything.”
“Maggie am guud fwuffy! Weaw maskie, get meatie nummies!” she chirped at you from the back of the kennel.
“Yes, her treats.” He pointed to a glass jar on the counter. “She gets jerky instead of fluffy treats. Otherwise her diet is normal. Despite what she says she is not actually a carnivore.”
“What do they all eat?”
“It’s a standard canned food unless there’s special notes on their file. I’ll show you to the stock room when we’re done here.” Walters crouched down in front of the last kennel, pulling aside a football themed curtain. “Okay Richard, no more time to sleep in.”
“Ngghh… fiiiiiine.” The small voice from within groaned. A teal hoof shot out from between the bars and deftly unlatched the kennel to your surprise.
“He can… do that??” You asked. The mechanism to open the kennels wasn’t exactly complicated, but it was well beyond the mental capabilities of the average fluffy. Especially to be able to do it from the inside? You weren’t sure if you could do that.
“Can do wotsa tings, miss.” The door swung open and a teal fluffy with an orange mane stepped out, shaking out his fluff. “My namesie am Wichawd, wha’ am youws?”
“Uhhh… I’m Mary Sue LaRue.” He spoke in a way that, despite the fluffy accent, was distressingly human.
“Mawy, nice ta’ meet ‘cha.” He held out his hoof to you and you awkwardly crouched down and shook it. Seeing the confused expression on your face he smiled. “Yu weawwy am nyu, huh?”
“I mean… new to here, but not that new to the hospital.”
“Dey dun usuawwy send da’ pwetty yung giws up hewe!”
“Richard!!” Walters yelled. “Be nice!”
Richard laughed as you blinked in shock. Sexual harassment from a fluffy was not covered in your initial training.
“Am jus’ sayin’ she pwetty! Wha’ wong wif dat?!” His satisfied smirk let you know he knew exactly what was wrong with it.
“I’m sorry, he’s kinda-”
“It’s fine.” You cut him off. A fluffy was not going to get your goat. “He’s just a fluffy, I’m not bothered by such a little guy.” You made sure to look right at him as you said it.
“Nu ebewyting about dis fwuffy am wittow.” Richard replied, puffing his cheeks.
“I’m pretty sure it is.” You smiled knowingly at his rear end, and he pulled his tail between his legs.
“Weww… shaddup. Got… Foobah to watch.” He stomped over to the tiny foam couch and plopped down on it angrily.
“Yeah… he can be a problem…” Walters trailed off.
“Eh, nothing I can’t handle.” Richard was no worse than any drunk guy at a bar. He was physically too small to slap your ass as you went by, so the worst he could do was yell about your tits from the floor. Not exactly intimidating.
“Alright fluffies, we’ll be back with breakfast.” Richard gave a halfhearted wave to you from the couch, struggling to hit the right button on his oversized remote. You followed Walters out into the hallway.
“So… What’s the deal with Nugget?”
He shrugged. “We really don’t know. He was at a shelter and just decided he didn’t want legs one day. Dr. Jackson wont say anything more about it, I think she doesn’t know what’s going on with him either.” He opened the door to the stock room and held it for you. “When she knows what’s going on she’s usually pretty smug about it, but she won’t talk about Nugget.”
“And Richard?”
“Someone picked him up as a feral. He seems to remember being human, which is beyond bizarre.” He started grabbing small cans from a plastic wrapped pallet. “He knows lots about the packers, and talks about having an ex-wife. He’s harmless, just weird.”
“Hm.” You opened up the folder Dr. Jackson gave you. Primrose was asleep in her picture, but she looked relaxed. Her pale pink mane had started growing back around the worst of the burns. You flipped through until you found the section labeled “TREATMENT PLAN”, under it was stated that she was getting two cans of intensive care food a day.
“So we give them one can each, If you could-”
“Dr. Jackson gave me another assignment, I think I need to go deal with her.” You cut him off, scanning the shelves for the right food.
“Oh… uh… Are you sure you got it? I can… uh…”
“I’ll be alright. Thanks for the instruction.” You didn’t look at him as you found the right cans and grabbed two of them.
“…Okay…” You heard him slink out of the room, the door clicking shut gently behind him. You didn’t need to be babysat, you were one of the Best and Brightest at the hospital. It was basic care for a fluffy no longer in critical care. Nothing you couldn’t handle. You tucked the food under your arm and flipped her folder back open, reading it as you made your way down the hall to her room.
Her surgery had gone well, your assessment of the shrapnel not damaging much more than her uterus was accurate. There was a small nick to her bladder that was too small to suture, so she was still being given antibiotics to avoid infections. She had been spayed, but the ovaries remained. Preserving hormones, you guessed. Dr. Davis mentioned trying to revolutionize the spaying process, maybe that had something to do with it. The burns were still extensive, but healing nicely according to the notes. She still had a cream and pain management prescribed to her. At the bottom of the treatment page you saw a section you were unfamiliar with.
HANDLING NOTES:
Special friend is named “Flutter”. Flutter was not retrieved, believed to be deceased. Patient needs to be reassured that Flutter is being treated in a separate wing of the hospital. Do not make any mention of when the patient will see Flutter. Do not mention any specifics of Flutter’s care. If the subject of foals or motherhood is brought up, redirect the discussion to be about Flutter. Contact Dr. Davis for details and questions.
It didn’t seem too bad, but… strange. You trusted the doctors knew what they were doing, but wouldn’t bringing up her special friend over and over make it worse when she did find out about him? You shook your head, flipping the folder closed. Not your job to question things. You pushed open the door to her room slowly, stepping in as quietly as you could.
“Primrose? Are you awake?” You asked, flipping on the lights in the dark saferoom.
“…hm?” A soft noise came from her kennel. The I.V. tube led into a pile of blankets in the back corner that shifted and revealed her little head poking out.
“Good morning, I’m here to take care of you!”
“…Nice wady…?” She blinked at you, a small spark of recognition in her eyes.
“Yes, do you remember me? We met before, in the…” What do fluffies call the ER? You had no idea. “We met before, when I helped you with your hurties.”
“Tankoo, nice wady.” She stood and stretched as you unlatched her kennel.
“Are you hungry? I brought you breakfast.” You pulled the empty I.V. bag off the hook, detaching it from the line leading to her.
She stood still to let you secure the end of the line, clearly having dealt with this before. “Yus! Am Fwuttah getting nummies tuu?”
You paused, unsure. Surely that wasn’t covered under details of care, right? “…Yes. All the fluffies in the hospital get nummies every morning.”
“Oh guud. Pwimwose hab wowstest sweepy tiem pictuwe dat Fwuttah nu get nummies.”
You picked her up and lowered her to the floor gently. “That sounds scary.”
“Mhm-hm. Pwimwose hab heawt happies dat Fwuttah get guud nummies tuu!”
You popped open the can lid and dumped it out into a paper bowl. It was a reddish goo, not dissimilar to canned cat food and smelling vaguely of tomato. You set it down in front of her and she ate with gusto. Ferals always did. You were told most of the food in the building was spaghetti flavored and only the pickiest of eaters would refuse it. Feral fluffies, having never had reliable food in their life, were always more than happy to eat the slop. A feral refusing food was an immediate call to higher ups in the other wards as it meant something was seriously wrong. You assumed that was the case here as well.
“Tankoo for guud nummies!” Primrose said, stepping back from the now empty bowl.
“You’re welcome! Let me get something to wipe your face.” You grabbed one of the pre-moistened wipes in the package by her kennel. She was a polite one at least, that was good. You didn’t have to deal with anything like Richard on a daily basis. You cleaned the goo from around her face, and she grinned at you when you were done.
“Pwimwose watch teebee nao? Am bestest ting!”
“Sure.” you grabbed the remote off the counter and powered on the small screen in the playpen while she skipped over to the blankets piled in front of it. “Do you want Dancie Time, Alicorn Adventure, or-”
“LOOSE FLUFFY!!!” You both turned to the door, where someone yelled into the hall. “SOMEONE GRAB HIM!!”
“Stay here.” You dropped the remote and darted out the door, closing it firmly behind you.
Running down the hall was a dark green unicorn with a pale purple mane, hooves scrambling for purchase on the colorful tiled floor. You pulled back against the door, hiding in the small recess until he was in front of you. You stuck out your foot and he slammed into your ankle, falling backwards into a position you were better able to grab.
“WET GU WET GU WET GU!!!” He struggled in your arms, but you had him around the middle held safely away from your body like you were trained. There was nothing of yours in range for him to kick or bite. “WET SMAWTY GUUUUU!”
“Thank you!!” A round man jogged up the hallway, panting. “He just slipped out the door before I could stop him!” This was the man you saw in the treatment room earlier, sitting on the floor and playing blocks with a pair of fluffies. He smiled warmly at you, reaching out for the struggling smarty.
“Of course, it was no problem.” He took the fluffy from you, tucking him under his arm. He ignored all of its kicking and biting as if it didn’t bother him.
The man squinted at you. “Have we met?”
“No, sir. I just arrived here.”
“Ah! Welcome!!” He grabbed your hand in a very firm handshake. “I’m Dr. Temple, you can call me Victor though.”
“Mary Sue LaRue.”
“Wonderful to meet you Mary! Davis talked about you nonstop, I was so hoping you would come join us if only to shut him up!”
“He spoke that much about me?”
Victor nodded. “You must be something if he wanted you that badly!”
“I wouldn’t say that…” You trailed off, embarrassed. There was so much talking about you happening behind your back.
“Are you taking care of Primrose?” he asked, still ignoring the struggling fluffy under his arm.
“Yes, I actually triaged her in the ER”
He gave you a warm smile, his eyes closing as he did. “She’s a sweet thing. Looking forward to working with you, Mary!” He gave you a firm pat on the shoulder and walked away, shifting the flailing fluffy into a more secure hold. You watched him go, somewhat amazed at his technique. The green fluffy bit him but it was like it wasn’t happening at all. He didn’t even flinch. He continued on unbothered, stroking his mane as if nothing was wrong. You wondered if he could teach you any of that, or if he was just born with a level of chill that was unable to be broken by even the most aggressive of fluffies.
Further down the hall you saw Walters leaning out from the long term care room, his expression confused you. He looked almost… scared? He was watching Victor carefully, and didn’t take his eyes off him until he and the fluffy were back in one of the treatment rooms. He noticed you watching him and quickly darted back into the room.
You shook your head. Weird fucking guy.
