#like my throat already hurts bc allergies but it hurts more now

[luna-the-cretar]

Cos Spoilers

Old man: *hands everyone other than Victoria a letter*

Old man: *grabs Victoria’s hand* congratulations

Me: oh shit it’s a wedding invitation

Nikkie: “You are cordially invited to the wedding between Strahdanya von Zorovich and Victoria Issacs”

Me: I FUCKING KNEW IT

[shion-yu]

Gave myself almost-pneumonia and my couch looks like a damn stock photo.

Since the whole time I’ve been like, “Am I living one of my shitty fanfictions? Coz this sucks.” Let me tell y’all a story.

Cold weather sucks as a severe asthmatic. I moved to the South so I didn’t have to deal with the frigid winters of upstate NY. I’m basically on and off sick until Spring comes (and then there’s allergy season but I digress). I think it’s helped some, but my lungs are just fucked up ok?

Anyways I went to a concert last Saturday and it was freezing. Then I went to the zoo on Sunday with a friend and it was also cold and swarming with kids who don’t know how to cover their mouths when they cough. It was a great weekend but by Tuesday I was sick - great. I had some warning bc my friend I went to the zoo with said they got sick yesterday. But it just seemed like a minor cold and I’ve been through this a million times, I truly did not think it was gonna get too much worse. My asthma was mostly under control and I rested a lot all week.

Thursday I’m more tired, but I start nebulizer treatments and even skip ice skating class and reschedule it for Saturday bc hey, I’m responsible. But Friday I start to feel worse. Like to the point where everybody at work is like wtf go home and one of them told me she’s gonna get me holy water. But it’s okay, it’s still been SO much worse and I’m really fine.

Saturday morning I wake up and I feel like I’m cured. So I go to ice skating class. And maybe I take a little walk in the rain. Bad fuckin idea. By the end of the day I’m having full blown asthma attacks one after the other and sweating like crazy. My abdomen is aching from coughing so much that it hurts to sit up. But I really don’t want to go to the ER. Not again. So I message my pulmonologist and hope I can just say never mind I’m good now by the time he answers on Monday.

That brings us to today, Sunday. I woke up at 6am after only 4 hours of sleep because I can’t stop choking. I’m sneezing and coughing up fluorescent green stuff, my throat tastes like blood and I have a fever. I really, really didn’t want to go to the doctor but it’s time. I drag my sorry ass to urgent care where the entire hour I sit in waiting, everybody who walks by gives me a ‘goddamn’ look because I’m coughing loud enough to alert the entire damn office. I’m so embarrassed bc what if they think I’m being dramatic and wasting time - again? I awkwardly explain my situation and the doctor sends me for CXR. When it comes back he says “Well, you don’t have pneumonia yet but see alllll this stuff here? That’s inflammation. I’m gonna prescribe antibiotics and (way heavier) steroids and you might have bronchitis already but your asthma is so bad that it’s indistinguishable by now. Also with your lungs you probably won’t be able to tell you have pneumonia until it’s pretty bad.”

So anyways, that’s my week. At least I got a lot of writing done for Whumptober - didn’t have to dig very deep to find enough misery to go around to all my fav OCs lol.

[campingwiththecharmings]

.

so i have seasonal allergies. i've had them since i was like 14 years old, taking meds for them, whatever. no big deal. so monday, i had a sore throat, thought it was just my allergies, so i didn't really do anything about it. tuesday, the sore throat's gone, but i'm congested af, so congested my ears, jaw, and teeth hurt and i can't really hear well out of my ears. i assume this is a combo of my regular allergies (bc i usually have a little congestion even after i take my meds) and a cold since it literally happened overnight. now, i have a history of my congestion backing up into my ears and causing ear infections, it's happened several times. to prevent this, i decided to make an appointment at my local urgent care. i had to work tuesday night so i scheduled it for the following day at like 5 p.m. i was a little better yesterday, tho still more congested than usual, but my ears still kind of hurt so i decided to keep my appointment. i get there at 5 p.m. and end up having to wait until almost 5:30 to get called back; apparently they were short staffed. like, okay fine, understandable. so the nurse does the check in and does tests for the flu and covid to rule them out, and i then sit in the room for almost a fucking HOUR waiting for the doctor. at this point, if i hadn't already paid my co-pay, i would've just said fuck it and left. so the doctor finally comes in and i explain why i'm there. he checks my ears and is all 'oh yeah, there's def congestion and pressure!' like, no shit, sherlock. then he checks a few other things and proceeds to tell me that, since my flu and covid tests were negative, it's just my allergies. like, sir, no. it's definitely not JUST my allergies. they might be a contributing factor, sure, but they are not the sole cause. i try to tell him this respectfully, like well, my allergies are usually pretty bad but not this bad, and they don't usually get this bad in one fucking day. he says, 'oh well, allergies are really bad right now' (bro, y'all say this every fucking season like stfu). now, i just want to make sure i'm not going to get a fucking ear infection okay? like, i don't want to have to come back there bc this fucker decided it was just my allergies so i'm like 'okay well, what should i do? bc like you said, there's pressure and congestion and i don't want another ear infection.' so he prescribes an allergy med i've taken a few times before that kinda works and says that i should take it and also use a nasal spray (which i already do). then he's like 'okay byeeee' and leaves. so i paid $50 and waited an hour an a half for this mfer to try to tell me that this cold is just allergies. lol fuck off sir, idc that you have a medical degree, i know my body and this is not just fucking allergies. 🙄 *pops another dayquil*

that is all, tysm.

[asexualarchivist]

Happy new year! I am now going to project my food allergies onto jarchivist sims and there’s nothing you can do about it!

- He’s deathly allergic to peanuts and less deathly but also still very allergic to most other nuts so he just steers clear of all of them

- By the time canon starts tim and sasha already know - not because Jon told them, of course, but because Jon nearly died after accepting some birthday cake the other researchers had brought in for him, not realizing it had nuts in it, and said nothing until he was going into anaphylactic shock because he “didn’t want to be rude” <- direct quote

- Tim has used jons epipen on him a couple times, including that first time. Also head canon that Danny was allergic to fire ants so he knew how to use it :( (I love Tim seeing Jon as a younger brother figure it’s my favorite thing)

- When Jon eats something with peanuts in it, he knows immediately. He hates the smell and has to leave the room if someone is eating peanut butter near him

- Most of the time when he has a reaction, Jon assumes that he’s either having a panic attack or that there’s something hung in his throat

- Then he realizes: ah. This shit again. Right around the time he realizes it’s getting harder to breathe

- Usually he can manage by taking some allergy medication and waiting a few hours to see if it resolves on it’s own (note: I have done this on several occasions) (another note: idk if you SHOULD do this if you think you’re having a reaction but me and Jon are both stupid and stubborn)

- Most of these reactions are from him eating something that was cross contaminated and not from directly eating peanuts or nuts

- The reactions are FAR worse when he actually eats peanuts and that’s when the epipen comes out

- So when Martin finds out is the day after the Dog Incident, he comes in early with peanut butter cookies he made for everyone

- He hands one to Jon who takes it without looking or listening and then goes to pass them out to the others when Tim and sasha are like “...... you didn’t give this to Jon did you”

- And then Jon walks out with his face already starting to swell up and sprouting hives and says: “Tim, could you please stab me” while holding out the epipen

- So Martin ends up sending jon to the emergency room on his second day of work. Not ideal. Jons fine but Martin has never been more MORTIFIED.

- Jon is also pretty embarrassed about being carted off in the middle of the work day and tells Martin everything. Martin fully expects to be fired but Jon just says it’s fine and he appreciates the gesture, thank you

- “Did you just thank me for sending you to the hospital?”

- “The GESTURE, Martin, not the poor execution.”

- So Martin only brings Jon tea from then on

- I also really enjoy the idea of Martin telling every waiter at every restaurant “excuse me, he has a peanut allergy, will that be an issue?” Or whatever.

- What Jon would usually do upon going to a restaurant was just. Take his chances. And I mean it was usually fine.

- But now martin is like Full Mom Friend Mode

- One time Jon has a reaction bc something got cross contaminated, even after Martin asked them to cook his separately and use different tools

- And Martin goes into Full Bitch Mode at this waiter and jons just over here like please.... please it’s fine let’s just leave

- Martin is so huffy for the rest of the day

- “REALLY Jon, you could have DIED!”

- I imagine this happens throughout their entire relationship

- Also Martin has to use the epipen on Jon one time and hates hurting Jon so much, hates seeing him carted away via ambulance. He’s a complete wreck until he sees Jon again

- He rushes to hug him and maybe he’s crying a little, and he just begs “please don’t do that again.”

- And that’s the moment both of them realize: Oh, I Am In Love With Him

Also nothing bad happens in this au bc I said so

This became longer than I expected but if anyone has any Thoughts they can and should add them

[bigsnzstanacct]

Richie’s Cold

I’m trying to dig up my old Richie Robbins story (which I wrote more than a decade ago shit), but for now here’s the very brief attempted sequel I wrote more recently (which is easier to find bc it’s in my fetish Scr*vener project lmao) fic is under the cut.

“AAAAAEEEEEEESSSSSSCCCCHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

“Whoa, Rich, we just moved in and you’re trying to blow the walls down, good work, buddy.”

Richie could only sniff in response. He was collapsed on the couch, exhausted. Moving was hard work, even harder than he thought it would be. And of course he’d sneezed his way through the move, like he’d sneezed his way through everything else in his life. Young Richard Robbins might have graduated Phi Beta Kappa—and he’d nearly blown the Dean’s hairpiece off when he went up to shake his hand—he might be on his way to one of the nation’s finest graduate schools… he might be a lot of things. But despite all that, for most people, the most memorable thing about Richie was—

“g-guhhh… g-gonna… sn-snehhh… hhHEEEHHhhh… sn-sneeze a-agahhHHHH… AAAHHHHHHHH… AAAHHHHHH… AAAAASSSSHHHHHOOOOO!!”

—that. Richie’s sneezes hadn’t dampened a bit since his college years. Instead, like his friendship with his buddy Adam, the sneezes had only grown stronger, though that hardly seemed to be possible (in either case.) And since Adam had known Richie for so long, he also knew… “Oh no. Oh buddy…”

“W-what?” Richie said, scrubbing at his nose to clear it of an allergic tickle.

“Buddy, uhhh… how you feeling?” Adam said, sitting down next to Richie on the couch, nudging him a bit to make space.

Richie sniffed again. Dreadful. He felt dreadful. But that wasn’t all he felt. “I feel… I f-feel… heh! l-like I gotta… gotta sn-sneeze… HAAT-CHOOO!” That one was short, but explosively loud, and so violent it forced Richie to crumple over on the couch. And no sooner had he deflated from that sneeze than another overtook him: “hhehhhh… HEEHHHZZZSSSHHHOOOOO!! HEEEIIIISHHHH! AAEEESSSHHHHHHHuuhhhh!” And another, and another. The sneezes were violent, even by Richie’s admittedly nuclear standards. But he couldn’t help it. The itch had been like a hot poker, stinging the insides of his nostrils, an overwhelming sensation that narrowed his focus and sapped his energy, until all he could focus on was the urge to blast out his sneezes as hard as he possibly could, just to make that horrible itching feeling go away. He hated how violent his sneezes were—always had, and probably always would. Richie wasn’t a very loud or exuberant guy—he left that to Adam—and he preferred to keep to himself, enjoy a good afternoon at home, and spend time with his friends when he could. He didn’t particularly want attention. But his nose, well… his nose had other ideas.

All through high school he’d been The Volcano, or the Super-Schnoz, or—god—Jonny Tsunami. And it hadn’t gotten any better in college. Sure, he’d found friends, just as he had in high school. And unlike high school, he’d found more than a couple girls—and a boy or two—who were willing to brave his explosions to, ah, spend some ‘quality time’ together. There’d even been that one girl who seemed to enjoy it when his nose cut loose but… somehow they’d lost touch. Gosh, he wondered what she was doing these days. In any case, though plenty were willing to overlook Richie’s frequent detonations, he’d still gotten more than his fair share of kidding about it. Especially in the lab, he’d be warned on more than one occasion that one of his monstrous sneezes would somehow affect the experiment. He’d been accused of making students drop pipettes and tubes, and on one horrible occasion he’d been forced to take a re-test on an exam, so overpowering and unstoppable were his sneezes. The other students had claimed they couldn’t concentrate with Richie erupting every five minutes. Rich couldn’t blame them.

And he should have known better than trying to go to that exam anyway. He’d had a cold. And while ordinarily Richie hardly went a day—hardly went a few hours—without sneezing, when he had a cold, it was worse. Much worse. The sneezes felt like they were coming constantly, like the itch had just set up residence in his sensitive nasal passages, and was using his nose as a punching bag, setting off sneeze after sneeze after sneeze. The worst was when he’d have a whole fit of his typically hurricane-force sneezes, and still couldn’t dislodge that infernal itch from his nose. He’d scrape his throat raw, sneezing sneeze after desperate sneeze, unleashing even more loudly, more powerfully, than he typically did—anything to make the tickle calm, even for a few moments. And from the way he’d just sneezed… and the way Adam was looking at him…

“No.” He said, shaking his head, “No, no, there’s no way. We just moved in here, there’s no way that…”

Adam just looked at him sympathetically. “‘Fraid so, buddy. I mean, look at yourself…” Adam said, whipping out his iPhone, taking a picture of Richie and turning it around for Richie to see in roughly the amount of time it would take Richie to blink. Adam loved that iPhone.

Taking the phone from Adam and looking at the screen, Richie could see what he meant. His eyes were rimmed red, and his nose was practically glowing. He could see a vague sheen of moisture in his eyes, and something that just seemed… heavy, coloring all his features. Adam was right. Richie thought it was just exhaustion from all the work of moving but… no. The more he thought about it, the more he couldn’t deny it. His head hurt, his nostrils leaked fluid, and he felt it… building up in the back of his nose, that itch, that itch that seemed like it would never go away. Still, he felt it, subtly playing about in his nostrils. His nose twitched: once, twice. His head was tipping back. The architecture of his nose was flexing, working, all but shaking. His chest was heaving in short gasps as he lifted a futile finger to place it beneath his nose. He felt his focus narrowing, the itch becoming the only thing that flooded his consciousness. It felt like a million feathers dancing in his nose… and yet somehow his sinuses felt like only the epicenter of a burning need that was filling his whole body. And then, just on the verge of release, just as he was finally going to unleash the typhoon that was building within, dimly, he heard a shriek…

“NO, RICHIE! NOT ON MADELINE!”

Richie’s eyes fluttered open just enough to see Adam, leaping through the air, arm outstretched, reaching to grab the phone that sat in Richie’s hand. He only saw for a second though, before… HHHAAARRRRAAASSCCCHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” Richie exploded with a sneeze loud enough to put his previous four to shame. This was one of Richie’s true cold sneezes, a mammoth eruption loud enough to set off car alarms, terrify passersby, and temporarily deafen at close range. He bellowed it out, unable to do anything else, a veritable hurricane of spray bursting from his nose and mouth, a torrential downpour equal in magnitude to the volume of Richie’s monstrous sneeze.

Richie laid his head back on the couch, panting and feeling weak. “oh god…” he moaned. Luckily, the sneeze had been enough to rid him of the worst of the itch… this time. He knew that once he was really into the worst of the cold, one monstrous sneeze-quake of that magnitude would hardly be enough to make a dent in the incessant need he felt. Already he felt that need still coursing through him, subtle, but ready to flare up at any time to inspire—to necessitate—another trademark Robbins-family eruption.

Blearily, he opened his eyes to see the aftermath of his sneeze. Adam, his whole t-shirt clad torso absolutely drenched in spray, was victoriously holding his cell phone, panting almost as much as Richie himself was. He cradled the phone to his chest, murmuring at it, “I saved you, yes I did, saved you from the big bad Hurricane Richie over there, he was gonna blow you right into the wall but I kept you safe, yes I did, yes I did…”

Richie found the strength to roll his eyes at Adam. He wouldn’t have actually blown the phone out of his hand, much less across the room and into the wall… probably. Suddenly, Richie was distracted by a banging noise that played havoc with his now-throbbing temples. “KEEP IT DOWN UP THERE!” He heard a muffled shout. Oh no… the neighbors had heard him. Already one unhappy neighbor. Richie was terrified to imagine how many more unhappy neighbors he’d develop over the course of this cold. And then, from the bedroom down the hall he heard another shout “OH BLOW IT OUT YOUR—“ Richie’s brother Tristan came into view, wandering down the hallway, scratching at his belly. Tristan was one of Richie’s five brothers—they were six altogether, and each brother suffered from the family curse: truly explosive sneezes. And though none suffered quite as badly as Richie did, Tristan was probably a close second.

“Damn Mrs. Harper. She’s always complaining. Geez, I got a-ahhh… hahhhHhhhh.. HHEEIIISSHHOOOOOO! -sniff!- allergies. So sue me.” Tristan grumbled, then looked up, catching a glimpse of Richie. His face dropped immediately, just like Adam’s had. “Oh boy, Rich.” He said, shaking his head. “Aw man I figured we had a few months at least… it’s not even winter. Shit, okay… well, uh… geez maybe I still have a stock of earplugs to pass out to the building…”

Adam had sufficiently recovered from the threat of injury to his beloved Madeline to snark, “Really? Earplugs? You think earplugs and a few walls are enough to keep my man Rich, the Incredible Thunder-Sneezer, down? Listen, Tristy, just ‘cause you’re in the one-man-tornado club too, doesn’t mean you’re a Category Five. Now my man Rich here, that’s a Category Five…”

Richie cut off Adam’s ramblings with a thunderous, “AAAAARRRRRRSSSSHHHOOOOOO! HHAARRRRRSSHHHH! AARRRSSSHHHHH! AAAEEEETTTTTSCCHOOOOOO!!! HHEEEIIIISSSHHHHH!!!”

“Did I say Category Five? Sorry, I forgot about the cold. Make that Category Ten.”

“RRRAAATTTCCHOOOOOOOO!!”

“Thousand.”

[thelastspeecher]

Hi, like your werepire ficlets! You mentioned in "Odd" that Ford almost killed Angie with wolfsbane in the werepire universe. Stan's reaction is understandable; So what's, Fiddleford, the protective brother's reaction to his friend almost killing his sister. Can't really see him stopping Stan. Was Fiddleford there when it happened, or did he find out afterwards? Would Stan & Angie stick around after that? I feel a sister-protecting-Ford-deflecting robot would be appropriate after that.

Well, Anon, you are in luck!  I was inspired by this ask to write that scene (which is actually something I’ve been meaning to do for a while).  To answer your questions that won’t get answered by the ficlet below: Stan and Angie stay in a motel a couple nights after the Incident, to get some space and allow everyone to cool off.  And Fiddleford loosens up his “I don’t really like this vampire guy hanging around Angie so much” feelings, bc he knows that Stan can protect Angie better than he can.  Fidds also refuses to cook for Ford for a few weeks.

And without further ado, here you go.  A free ficlet ;)

              Fiddleford could hear theshouting as he pulled into the driveway. He stifled a sigh.

              Great.  Those Pines men are at eachother’s throats again.  He turned offthe truck’s motor and stepped outside.

              “You coulda killed her, Stanford!”Stan’s voice screamed.  The pickup’skeys, held loosely in Fiddleford’s hand, fell to the ground.

              Her.  There’s only one “her” inthe house.  He bolted from the truck,not bothering to close the door in his haste, and tore into the house, slammingthe front door open.  Stan stood in theliving room, pinning Ford against the wall. He normally tried to hide his enlarged fangs, but they were on fulldisplay in a vicious snarl.  Fiddlefordlooked around frantically for Angie.  Hecaught sight of her, curled up in a ball on the floor a few feet from Stan andFord.

              “Banjey!” Fiddlefordshouted.  Stan and Ford looked over,startled.  Fiddleford ignored both ofthem, instead rushing to Angie’s side. Her body shuddered with deep coughs and loud wheezing.  “Banjey, what’s wrong?  What happened?” ��Angie let out another wheeze.  Her eyes were watering.  Fiddleford’s heart stopped.  He recognized these symptoms.  “Where’s yer epi?”

              “Epinephrine won’t help her,”Ford said.  His voice was slightly strainedby Stan’s arm against his throat. Fiddleford whipped his head around to glare at Ford.

              “Yer not a medical doctor.  I know my sister!  She has a serious food allergy.  It looks exactly like this!”  Ford’s face paled.

              “She- she does?”

              “Yes!”

              “Right pocket,” Angie wheezed.  Fiddleford grabbed the EpiPen from the rightpocket in Angie’s jeans.  As he preparedto inject her with it, Ford shouted.

              “Wait!”

              “No, I don’t give a flyin’ darn ‘boutyer opinion, Stanford-” Fiddleford started.

              “The thing that triggered theallergic reaction is in the room.  Youneed to remove her before the epinephrine will be of use.”

              “Stanf-”

              “I’ll help,” Stan said.  He let go of Ford, who promptly fell to thefloor, and strode over.  “C’mon, Ang.”  Stan picked Angie up carefully and took heroutside, Fiddleford close behind.  Helaid her on the grass.  Fiddleford kneltbeside her and immediately used the EpiPen. Angie let out a loud gasp.  Herbreathing steadied.  After a few moments,the flush coloring her cheeks began to fade.

              “We’ll take you to the ER, don’tworry,” Fiddleford said calmly.  Angienodded.  Fiddleford stood.  “Stanley, you claim to love my sister.  Why the hell were ya wastin’ precious timearguin’ while she couldn’t breathe?” Fiddleford demanded.  Stan took a step back, visibly surprised bythe venom in Fiddleford’s voice.

              “Look, I didn’t-”

              “Ford’s fault,” Angiewheezed.  She sat up.  “It was Ford’s fault.”

              “I told ya not to eat the fancygranola he bought last week-”

              “No-” Angie started.

              “And save yer breath,junebug.  Ya need every bit of air ya canget right now.  Stan can explain thingsto me.”  Fiddleford looked at Stan.  “Well?”

              “I have no clue what happened,”Stan said.  “I was working on my car whenI heard Angie start screaming.  I raninside, and Ford was shoving something in her face, and she was completelyfreaking out, coughing and sneezing. She- she got worse while I was trying to get Ford to tell me what hedid.”

              “I didn’t mean for things to gothat poorly,” Ford’s voice said.  Fiddlefordspun around.  Ford had followed themoutside.  He had the grace to look sheepish.  “If I had known she was severely allergic tosomething already, I would have tried something else.  Lycanthropes don’t typically have such strongreactions to wolfsbane unless they ingest it.”

              “Ya shouldn’t have been tryin’ todo anything that would cause any sort of harm to- wait.”  Fiddleford stared at Ford.  “Lycanthropes?”  Ford nodded.

              “Angie’s a werewolf.”

              “A- Stanford, I told you not todiagnose my sister with some spookum disease!”

              “Fidds,” Angie said softly.  Fiddleford looked down at Angie, stillsitting on the grass.  She lookedaway.  “He’s right.”  Fiddleford sunk to his knees next to hissister.

              “What?”

              “He’s right.  He- he figured it out.  I’m-” Angie’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. Stan crouched next to Angie.

              “Ang,” Stan said.  Angie shook her head wordlessly.

              “Stanley, is- is she really-”Fiddleford started.  Stan nodded.

              “Yeah.  We figured it out pretty fast.  As far as we can tell, she got bit by awerewolf that she thought was a stray dog that needed help.  When she transformed for the first time, shewas too confused to turn back, and got stuck until I found her.”  Stan swallowed.  “We think she was trying to go home, sinceshe got all the way to Missouri from California.”

              “Oh.  Oh, dear. Oh, my poor baby sister.” Fiddleford stroked Angie’s hair. Angie let out a small sob. Fiddleford grit his teeth and stood. He glared at Ford.  “StanfordFilbrick Pines, what is wrong with you?”

              “I had to-”

              “No!  You didn’thave to poison my sister to prove she was a werewolf.  What, ya couldn’t wait until the next fullmoon?”

              “Fiddleford, I didn’t expect herto react so strongly,” Ford said, holding his hands out placatingly.

              “Ya shouldn’t have exposed her tosomethin’ ya thought she would react to at all! Even if ya thought she would just sneeze once!  Yer too foolhardy, dammit!”

              “Fiddleford-”

              “Clean up everything in the housethat could hurt my sister.  Now,”Fiddleford said firmly.  “Stan ‘n I aregoin’ to take her to the hospital.”  Fordpuffed up for a moment like he was going to argue, before deflating andsilently nodding.  He went backinside.  Fiddleford turned his attention backto Angie.  “Why didn’t you tell me?” heasked.  Angie slowly got to her feet withStan’s help.

              “I didn’t want to complicatethings,” Angie said.  “You were alreadydealin’ with a lot.  Yer missin’ sistershowin’ up out of nowhere with no memory, said sister havin’ a vampire fer aboyfriend, said vampire bein’ yer research partner’s estranged twin.  I didn’t want to add to it.  And…” Angie looked down at her feet.  “Ididn’t want you to fuss over me any more than you already were.  I’m fine. Mostly.”  She coughed.

              “You were worried ‘bout how Iwould react,” Fiddleford said.  Angienodded.  “Well, that’s fair, since I ain’tquite sure how I’d react findin’ this out under dif’rent circumstances.  But with everything that just happened, youbein’ a werewolf is the least of my worries.” Angie let out a wheeze.  “Case inpoint.  We need to take ya to the hospital.  Like ya always do after ya use yer epi.”  Angie rolled her eyes.

              “I know, Fidds.  I know.”

              “C’mon.”  Fiddleford helped Angie into the passengerseat of his pickup.  She immediatelyleaned against the window, her eyes closed. Fiddleford looked at Stan.  “Allthis time, I’ve been feelin’ a bit weird ‘bout a vampire bein’ the one torescue my sister.  But if she ain’t humanneither, it’s prob’ly fer the best it was you and not some Joe Schmoe.”  Stan grinned toothily.

              “Wow, that was almost acompliment,” Stan said.  He soberedabruptly.  “But I think so too.  Can’t imagine how a normal human wouldareacted to Angie turning into a wolf a few weeks after meeting her.  Me? Weird shit like that’s my bread and butter nowadays.”  Angie rolled down the window.

              “Are you two gents ever goin’ totake me to the hospital?” she called.  “Orshould I just walk there?”