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Hiding and Hunting

Summary:

“The problem was, his stomach wouldn’t leave him alone. No matter how much he tried to ignore it, he just could not ignore the fact that by morning he felt like his gut had been turned into a washing machine for his past meals.”

There is a hunting competition amongst the apprentices and Red is determined to beat his friends. But hunting on an upset stomach is less fun than it’s cut out to be.

 

Nov(emeto)ber catchup 2: Hiding it (or at least trying to)

Notes:

OC Whump day Nine!
Whumpee: Red (Phoenix)
Poor Red, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you suffer for so long.
I am open to suggestions!

Work Text:

Letting out a soft whimper so as not to wake his sleeping family, Red stumbled to his feet. Swallowing as a wave of nausea rolled over him, he stepped outside the den, hoping that some fresh air would help his flipping stomach. 

Taking a deep breath, Red closed his eyes for a few seconds, letting the gentle breeze waft over him. 

He had felt fine yesterday, hunting with Ace and training with Birch. Why did his stomach feel like it was twisting itself into knots now?

He inhaled, counting to five before exhaling. Perhaps it was just nerves, the apprentices had a hunting competition tomorrow. But Red was excited for that, not nervous.

He swallowed again, his stomach was starting to churn. He felt as if there was liquid sloshing around inside it, starting to spin and splash up his esophagus. 

“You’ll be fine, it’s just nerves,” Red muttered to himself, trying to fight the feeling of queasiness that was making its way up his throat.

No way was he missing this competition. He just had to get some rest, he’d be fine.

The problem was, his stomach wouldn’t leave him alone. No matter how much he tried to ignore it, he just could not ignore the fact that by morning he felt like his gut had been turned into a washing machine for his past meals.

“Red! Wake up!” He heard his sibling’s excited voice drift through the air.

He felt liquid rise in his throat, he knew his stomach wasn’t going to be happy with his decision to swallow it down, but he did anyway. No way was he missing the competition and no way was he puking in front of Ace.

Red forced his throat to swallow, a task that suddenly felt impossible. He felt  the liquid rise higher instead of returning to its proper place.

“Red, get up, don’t be lazy,” Ace called, their voice getting closer as they walked up to their brother.

Abandoning the attempt to push the bile back down his throat, Red raised his head, forcing a smile and hoping his stomach would hold out until the end of the competition.

 

. . .

 

Red was trying to take deep breaths, trying to ignore the stabbing pain that now filled his gut.

He was standing amongst six other apprentices ready to compete. The clan had been planning the competition for months, all apprentices were to compete on their own and catch as much prey as they could. By sundown the apprentice with the most prey would be the winner and the clan would host a feast to celebrate them. 

Although the fest was not approved by Maverick who called it a waste of food and a contradiction of the code, the entire clan was excited to take part. And Red had been determined to win.

Now, however, he was just determined not to let his stomach expel its contents in front of his entire clan as Rex gave the briefing, warning the apprentices not to hurt themselves.

This determination was slowly fading and being replaced by pain. Maybe it would be better if he let his stomach get rid of whatever was causing it to rebel.

“And one last thing,” Rex called, nearly shouting to be heard over the clamor of excitement coming from the clan, “If you hurt another clanmate, whether on purpose or not, you will be disqualified.”

“Okay, thanks Rex, for the speech,” Blurr said walking in front of the clan, “That we didn’t need,” He muttered jokingly.

Rex glared at him, “You’ll be glad when they don’t get killed,” The medic said before walking away to let Blurr have the stage.

“Apprentices! Get ready! And… hunt!” Blurr shouted dramatically, throwing his head to the sky.

The seven apprentices turned and ran into the forest, Red amongst them, hoping to the spirits his stomach wouldn’t give in just yet.

 

. . . 

 

He would not allow himself to puke, not now. Even though there were no other wolves around and his stomach was forcing more and more of the hot liquid up his, now aching, throat. 

But he would not let it spill from his mouth. Every time he felt it rise he swallowed again until it was resting painfully at the base of his esophagus. 

He couldn’t focus on hunting, he could barely walk without tears leaping into his eyes. Unfortunately, Red also knew that if he came back empty pawed the others would be suspicious.

He didn’t know how he could ever sneak up on anything though. His stomach was starting to make sickly gurgling sounds, causing wave after wave of nausea to course through his trembling body

His abdominal muscles spasmed, trying to force their contents up. Red stifled a cry, and stopped walking, legs shaking. He tried to swallow again as he felt the digested food working their way up his throat. 

But his stomach had grown tired of his antics. 

Red knew what was coming as a wet, sickly burp escaped his clamped mouth. A rush of liquid shot up his throat and flooded his mouth, finally forcing him to open it and spill the bile and digested food to the forest floor. 

His stomach convulsed, sending stabs of pain through his intestines. He wanted to curl up into a ball for the rest of his life and cry. But he couldn’t, his stomach was forcing more and more fluid and chunks of food up his burning esophagus.

It streamed out of his mouth, cascading to the forest floor in a sickly green and brown puddle. But, as if it were trying to get revenge for his stubbornness before, it would not stop. 

Red retched until his stomach had nothing left, and even then it continued to angrily lurch and heave, convulsing and sending cramps to grip his gut. 

He could barely think through the haze of pain. His stomach was trying to kill him, and nothing he did seemed to deter it.

His intestines burned and cramped, shoving more acid out of its place as if trying to dislodge something that would not move. His stomach was firm and he felt liquid slosh around in it before it shot out of his mouth, tearing a scream from his agonized throat.

After what felt like hours, but was most likely nearer to ten minutes, vomit stopped spewing from his mouth. Leaving him to stumble for a few inches before his legs gave way and spilled him onto the damp forest floor, dry heaves still wracking his body.

His insides seemed to be trying to escape out his throat, he curled into a sobbing ball but nothing would stop the cramping agony that ripped through his gut. With every sobbing jerk his stomach heaved and cramped, until the poor pup was left lying on the forest floor, abdominal muscles convulsing wildly, stomach cramping and body lurching.

But his pride was more powerful than his gut and he knew he needed to catch something and get back to the clan.

That was going to be very difficult.

 

. . . 

 

Red forced himself to his feet, groaning as his stomach spasmed again. Another wet gurgling sound escaping, followed by an ill-sounding burp, his entire body lurching with his stomach. This time only a string of bile dripped from his panting mouth. 

Red swallowed, he was fairly certain puking again would just make him sicker. 

He began to drag his paws over the ground, forcing himself to continue on even as his insides twisted and agonizing nausea caused his stomach to churn and heave.

The gentle breeze that he had thought would be helpful the night before now made him want to die. Every gust caused his intestines to try forcing more liquid up his working throat. 

He didn’t even know where the liquid was coming from. He had definitely already emptied his stomach. Yet, it continued to force the stuff up his throat, causing his chest to start to burn. 

He gulped, trying to shove it back down into his stomach.

Hearing a squirrel chittering in a nearby tree, he looked up, immediately regretting it as his stomach sloshed and seemed to leap into his throat. 

But he could get that, he was amazing at catching squirrels. 

Suddenly, he felt vomit rush up his throat and fill his mouth. 

He was not going to puke now, he needed to catch that squirrel. So, knowing it would return with a vengeance, Red forced it back down.

He felt it spill back down to his agitated stomach, but it didn’t settle. Almost immediately a wet burp escaped his mouth, transforming into a heaving gag that launched still more of the sickly liquid out of his unsuspecting mouth.

Red’s head fell to the ground, his body lurching forward with the force of vomiting. This time all that came up was a small stream of bile and acid, burning his esophagus as it did so.

The squirrel looked at him in horror and darted, disappearing into the upper leaves of the tree where Red would never, especially in his condition, dare travel.

Red groaned, stomach tightening as if getting ready to retch again. 

But it never came, instead every soft movement sent cramps through his gut and nausea swelling though his system.

A whimper escaped his mouth, maybe his pride wasn’t that important. Another wet gargle shook his aching abdomen, forcing more burning liquid to dribble from his mouth.

Yeah, his pride was not worth this. 

Red stumbled forward, making up his mind to return to the clan. 

But, as his stomach reeled once more, he realized that he just couldn’t.

Every moment was torture, cramps gripped his intestines which were lurching and churning constantly. Wet, sickly gurgles were sounding from his stomach, and his throat burned as he felt bile continuously being compelled from his insides.

Despite these facts, he still felt full, as if he hadn’t just unloaded his entire stomach contents onto the forest floor.

He hadn’t even eaten that much last night. 

“Red?” He heard his sibling’s voice echoing in his ears. “Spirits! You look terrible!” Ace cried, rushing over to their brother.

Red’s breaths were coming in labored gasps as he tried to stem the swell of vomit, once more rushing into his mouth.

“You should move,” He choked out, voice breaking, before his stomach exploded, launching out more digested meat.

He retched, stomach contracting as more vomit spewed from his mouth. How was it even possible for a single wolf to puke so much?

“Oh, spirits! Red!” Ace cried, leaping back as their brother expelled his insides for the third time that day.

“Ace,” He choked out, struggling to stay standing, “Help me, please.”

Ace immediately dashed to his side, allowing him to collapse and lean on them for support.

“We need to get back to the clan, Rex can help,” Ace said hurriedly, grimacing in sympathy as they felt their brother’s stomach cramp and heave under his damp pelt.

Red swallowed, trying to force his stomach to settle, and gasped out, “Think I’ve been disqualified?” 

“No joking,” Ace demanded, “I am not going to laugh while my brother is in agony.”

Red opened his mouth to reply but clamped it shut as a wave of nausea made hot liquid rush up his throat yet again.

“Ace, I’m gonna-” He was cut off as a wet burp bubbled from his mouth, his frothing stomach giving out again and lurching as he hunched over, puking out the last of last night’s meal.

“Oh, Red,” He heard his sibling groan sympatheticly, rubbing the side of their head against their brother’s back. Something they had seen Rex do to calm the stomachs of pups infected with a stomach flu.

Red inhaled sharply, panting. But he no longer felt the urge to empty his stomach.

Breaths coming in gasps, he looked back at a worried Ace. “I-I think I’m g-good now,” He stammered, entire body trembling.

“Come on, lean on me, you need to get back to the clan,” Ace encouraged gently.

 

. . .

 

“Rex!” Ace shouted from the forest’s edge.

Rex’s head shot up, he saw Red leaning against his sibling and was immediately irritated that the apprentice had managed to hurt himself. Turning to Blurr he muttered, “Told, ya.” Before walking over to the two.

The closer he got the more he realized that Red had not, in fact, gotten himself hurt. But was struggling to keep his stomach contained from the outside world.

Rex ran up to them, demanding, “What did you do?”

“No-nothing,” Red gasped. Rex saw his stomach lurch and the pup whimpered, falling away from Ace and doubling over in pain.

Rex sighed, he had thought Red seemed off this morning. “It’s been three hours, how in the spirits have you managed so far?”

“I-I don’t know,” Red whimpered from the ground, curling in on himself as his stomach spasmed again.

“Just help him, please!” Ace cried as Rex opened his mouth to ask another question.

“Yeah, good Idea. Ace, help me get him into my den.”

 

. . . 

 

“Hey,” Ace walked into the den carrying what looked like a mouse. “Thought you’d want to know, Birch won. They’re celebrating outside, I brought you some,” Ace offered the food to Red.

He groaned as the nauseating smell hit his nose, “No thanks,” He whimpered, curling into a tighter ball.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Ace stammered, dropping the mouse a few feet away and walking over to Red.

“Too bad you can’t participate,” They said sadly.

“Hey, more food for you and Birch,” Red groaned, stomach tightening painfully and causing a grimace to cross his face.

Ace frowned, “Rex didn’t give you anything?”

“Couldn’t keep it down,” Red grunted.

“Well, would you like some company?” Ace asked compassionately.

Red panted, “Yeah, that’d be great, but don’t you want to feast with the others?”

“Nah, it’s loud. Birch doesn’t enjoy it either, mind if I invited him in?”

And that is how Red ended up on the floor of the medic’s den, his sibling and their boyfriend curled up bedside him.