Chapter Text
Mane held his head in his hands, staring at Flame who gripped Wemmbu's hand tightly.
Their youngest was always small. His weak immune system had slowed his growth when he was younger, causing him to look a year or two younger than he should be. It didn't help that Mane and Flame were both above average in their heights, making Wemmbu seem even smaller than he already was.
But - unconscious in that hospital bed and hooked up to various machines - Wemmbu looked tiny in a way he never did before. And it hurt knowing that this might be it.
Maybe he'd have been alright if Mane had caught this earlier, maybe not. But Mane understood the way Wemmbu thought, so he tried not to blame himself. He knew Wemmbu wouldn't want him beating himself up over this. It was hard though, every time he looked at his baby brother struggling to breathe, his heart ached.
Mane turned his gaze to the nervous doctor, "Is there really nothing you can do?"
Mane begged the universe and whatever god may exist out there that the medical community had evolved from when Rejoice was sick. He begged that another life wouldn't be cut so short. He begged that his brother would make it out of this.
The doctor frantically searched through his clipboard, "I'm sorry! There's just nothing more we can do! Well… we could try… no, I don't think I'm even allowed to do that."
Mane and Flame caught the last bit that the doctor mumbled and pounced, "What? There's another option?"
The doctor squeaked in fear as the two massive men surrounded him, "W-well… it's entirely experimental. It hasn't been tested yet. And even if it was, you would need the hospital boards approval to even try the treatment. It might not even work!"
Mane glared down at him, "I don't care! Get me whoever I need to talk to about this! Now!"
The brothers watched as the man stumbled out of he room on shaking legs, quickly returning to Wemmbu's side.
They would try anything, at this point.
~
The board had approved the experimental treatment. Of course they did, they had no one else that was willing to test this. They had practically jumped at the offer.
Mane and Flame didn't care, they knew the chances of their brother surviving with or without this treatment were slim, but they wanted to exhaust all of their options before giving up.
They should be preparing themselves for the disappointment. But they really hoped that this would work and they weren't ready to let their brother go just yet.
Or ever, really.
They watched with the eyes of hawks as the doctors surrounded their brother, preparing him for surgery. It would take a few hours before they brought Wemmbu out to the recovery ward and even longer to see if it changed anything.
They had to be patient.
So they waited and watched.
They watched Wemmbu be wheeled into his new room, bandages peaking out from his hospital gown, tight around his upper body. The doctors believed that the mysterious sickness attacked the lungs. The surgery was meant to clear out the area from infection and would theoretically fix the issue.
They watched the head surgeon enter the room and listened to his speech.
"The surgery went well," he seemed proud of himself (of course the smug bastard was), "and - should it work the way it's supposed to - Wemmbu will be on his way to recovery. I do want to talk about the expected issues that may come up later in his life."
If he survived.
They watched him pull out two booklets and took them from his hands, "These have all of the possible side effects and explanations. The main of it all is a weakened immune system, breathing issues and a possible reoccurrence - which can be solved through another surgery if it should happen."
They watched him leave and read through the booklet that they might not even need, considering Wemmbu may not survive still. But they wanted to be prepared just incase.
They watched their brother start to breathe easier, his heart beating stronger and his eyes starting to move under his lids. His complexion - although still pale - wasn't deathly anymore. He looked like he wasn't in pain.
And eventually, the doctors brought good news.
"He's recovering," the doctor grinned in pride, "he should wake up sometime in the coming days."
Mane felt himself collapse, relief filling his stressed body. Flame hand his head flat on Wemmbu's bed, soaking the sheets with his joyful tears.
Thank fuck their brother survived.
~
Everything hurt, but it wasn't as bad as before.
Which was weird, because Wemmbu was pretty sure he shouldn't be feeling pain while he was dead.
He cracked his eyes open before suddenly slamming them shut, the burning light feeling as if he were staring straight at the sun. And fuck, it hurt.
Eventually, he was able to squint his eyes open. Wemmbu found himself in a hospital room, hooked up to multiple machines with his brothers sleeping around him.
Oh.
He was alive.
How was he alive?
He hissed as pain flared in his chest, shifting slightly against the sheets in hopes of relieving some of the built up pressure. His movement seemed to wake Mane, who was very used to getting up at any sound or shuffle his brothers made.
Mane blinked at Wemmbu, slowly waking up before gasped and clutching the boys hand, "Wemmbu! Wemm! My baby!"
Wemmbu watched his brother (who he thought he'd never see again) sob as he gently held his hand. He reached out with his other hand, brushing Mane's braids from his face. He smiled sadly at his brothers crying face, happy but con fused about the situation.
Mane sniffled and held Wemmbu's face in gentle hands, "You beautiful, stupid boy! Never keep something like this from us again!"
Wemmbu's throat was dry and he knew that if he tried to speak, nothing would come out. So all he did was tilt his head in confusion, he wanted to know how he survived!
"The doctors came up with something," Mane explained as he sat next to him, "a surgery to remove the infection that was attacking your lungs. It was experimental, there was a chance you wouldn't survive."
But he did. He actually survive it.
Wemmbu didn't know what he was feeling. He had already come to terms with his death a long time ago. He had accepted that fact he'd never make it to high school, let alone college. And now, Wemmbu still had a future.
And Rejoice was still dead.
It was… surreal.
"There will be issues later," Mane continued, "you'll be sicker more often and have trouble breathing at times. There's also the possibility of this whole thing resurfacing, but as long as we catch it early enough, another surgery will fix it."
Wemmbu leaned against Mane's shoulder as he sat next to him on the bed, letting his own tears start to fall. His chest jumped as he started to let out croaky sobs, the reality of everything hitting him all at once. Everything that he had pushed back when he was sure he'd be dying.
He wasn't doing this alone anymore.
He cried into his older brothers shoulder, weakly kicking Flame - who could sleep through a bomb going off next to him - off of the bed. Flame yelped as he hit the floor before jumping up, ready for a fight but quickly deflating at the sight of Wemmbu awake.
The middle brother pushed himself into the pile, helping to comfort sobbing boy who had almost died.
They'd be alright now. After everything that happened, they had a chance to keep going. Even if it would be hard, Wemmbu survived and that was all that mattered.
They would be fine.