Work Text:
Roman woke in a cold sweat, queasiness filled his stomach and his head felt as if it had been inflated to ten times its normal size. His nose was shinny with snot and his breath rattled in his lungs, every so often turning into a hacking cough that left him shaking and gasping in pain.
He could hear his breaths filling the small cave, struggling to breath through the mucus lining his aching throat.
Today was going to be a long day, he knew he should talk to Icicle, see if he could have the day off. However, Roman was a determined worker. And, besides, he probably only had a cold.
Sun began to stream into the cave and Roman took a shuddering breath, suddenly feeling nauseated. He swallowed painfully, throat burning.
He groaned, lowering his head to the ground as he felt a jet of hot liquid begin to travel up his throat, making it burn even more.
“No,” he whimpered, gritting his teeth and forcing the liquid back down.
It settled uneasily on his nauseated stomach.
Roman sniffled, and tried to force himself to his feet.
He failed.
His legs weren’t ready to support his weight and sent him tumbling to the ground, collapsing beneath him.
Roman fell to the cold cave floor and curled into a ball, fighting the urge to stay there all day, whimpering.
Apparently this was worse than he had thought.
He knew better than to continue his work while ill, he felt like he would end up vomiting on someone anyway.
He would have to talk to Icicle. Only problem was; he was currently too weak to stand.
Roman cleared his throat noisily, trying to clear the mucus sticking firmly to its walls. He only succeeded in causing a coughing fit to wrack his body.
His chest ached when he was finished, every breath in was a challenge, and every rattling breath out was torture.
Roman curled tighter around his stomach as it started to churn, upset by his sudden jerking movements. He groaned again, feeling the liquid bubble up his throat once more.
His gut started to churn faster as if his digestive tract was suddenly caught up in a hurricane. “Ooh,” He groaned, pulling his legs in to press against his throbbing stomach.
Okay, he had to talk to Icicle.
Forcing his shaking legs to support him, Roman clambered out of the den, insides rocking back and forth as if he were on a boat.
Luckily for him, his clan was not yet up. No one needed to see him like this.
He staggered to Icicle’s den, swallowing thickly as he felt sick making its way to his mouth.
“Icicle?” He coughed when he had managed to make it to the entrance.
“Roman, come in,” The alpha’s voice called.
Roman staggered in, right as he did so, his stomach spasmed painfully and he was forced to clamp his mouth shut and drop his head to stop the surge of vomit from escaping.
“Roman! You look horrible!” Icicle cried, rushing over to his ailing friend.
“Uh, y-yeah, that’s what I-” Roman was cut off by another painful spasm, he snapped his mouth shut and squeezed his eyes closed against the sudden stabbing pain.
He swallowed forcefully, inhaling sharply and looking up at Icicle with tears starting to spill, unwantedly, from his eyes. “What I c-came to s-speak to a-about,” Roman whimpered haltingly.
“Okay, you need to lay down,” Icicle commanded, “And you need to go to the medic’s den.”
“No,” Roman shook his head, “Seiko is busy with the pups, I’ll be-” Once more, he was cut off. A terrified look filled the beta’s eyes as he choked out “I-I’m gonna-” Before swallowing painfully and darting out of the den.
Icicle waited for a few minutes to give his friend some privacy before slowly emerging from his den, walking over to the forest's edge.
Roman stood, head lowered over a pool of regurgitated food, breaths coming in chest-rattling gasps.
Icicle walked up to him, pressing his warm pelt against Roman’s damp one. “That’s it, get it out,” Icicle encouraged gently, beginning to lick Roman’s fur flat like a mother soothing her pups.
Roman inhaled raggedly, “I’m fine-” His stomach twisted and he felt liquid rocket up his throat. He didn’t even have time to comprehend anything besides the burning, cramping pain before his insides had been emptied once more.
A whimper was torn from his mouth as a wet gurgle escaped his stomach, forcing more of the digested food up his esophagus.
“Shh, it’s okay,” Icicle comforted. Even though the alpha normally had an iron stomach, one had to, being in as many wars and battles as he had, just the sight of his pained friend made him feel slightly ill.
Roman gasped sharply, swallowing back more vomit as his intestines started to twist again.
But it didn’t matter what he did. The moment he swallowed, his stomach rebelled against it, propelling more into his mouth and forcing him to, once more, spill the contents of his intestines to the ground.
His stomach gurgled again, pain stabbing through his insides so suddenly he barely had time to think before he was curled on the ground, writhing in pain.
Roman felt Icicle curl around him, holding him still, and whispering comforting words into his ear.
But it only made it worse. His stomach was not giving up so easily.
It heaved and retched, shaking Roman’s entire body, but was merciful enough to spare him the burning pain of puking again.
Roman felt liquid splash from his mouth. No. Not from, into.
Slowly, he came to. Icicle had gotten water from a river, probably hoping it would ease his churning stomach.
Roman gasped and looked weakly up at the alpha, staring sympathetically down at him. “I-I sorry,” He coughed out, body shuddering with dry heaves.
“Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault,” Icicle said, laying down next to him again, “My guess is you won’t be moving anytime soon?”
Roman swallowed and laughed weakly, “I think my legs have turned to jelly,” He muttered, relaxing as he melted into Icicle’s comforting flank.