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Follows Immediately After: 

Mature Content

There's a tldr safe summary of the story below~ 


Trigger warnings ahead in either story featured: Always swearing with Fang, medical procedures and talk (meaning: I'm not a doctor and nothing in this piece of fiction should be taken as 1000% accurate or correct, i use google ffs), depressing thoughts in general

    They had a limited number of days they could treat Fang while he was medically comatose so the most was made out of it. It was a cheap trick, but this way they made sure as much as possible was treated. It had progressed long enough as it had. In the meantime, Durant did his due diligence to dig up more information on Fang's past, trying to connect the dots. The facts just weren't lining up from what he knew about the kid's family life and what the kid had to say about it.
    Someone had died. Question was who. His uncle was out of the picture, that much he knew but there was never any mention of the aunt. There had to be more into whatever happened to cause the family to go silent on their own kin and seemingly “give up” on a child. Days later and without any more leads on the mystery kid he was harboring, a message popped up on Durant's phone from Dr. Devin Kirk. Simply put without context to remain anonymous, should he somehow have his phone compromised. 'Not cancer. Early COPD likely. Treatable only.' Meaning nothing would cure it. But it wasn't an immediate death sentence.
    Glaring at the text didn't change the outcome. Treatable. At least it was that but, how the hell would Fang listen to his advice? He didn't care much about his life or his health. At least, not as it came off. Bribe with drugs. It didn't fix the problem. Especially if said drugs were in smoke form. No. Tricking Fang wasn't the answer. There had been enough lies in his life. This sedated stage was the grey area. ‘Bad reaction’ was probably something he had gone through before. Dr. Kirk would have to give him a run down on what had to be done right now, and possible treatment for the future. At least, letting Fang know. The rest would be up to him. It was his life.
    Under Devin's suggestion, they had a few days to plan out and discuss what it was going to take to right the ship. Devin walked Durant through what he had seen in the scans compared to what a healthy set of lungs should look like. Although the damage was what was considered as minimal and early onset, it was the jarring fact that this was this kind of damage that would be expected for an adult twice Fang's age. Not for a twenty year old. It was irreversible.
    First and foremost, they had to get the ulcers healed. The remaining infection was causing the cycle. Fang would reopen the sores, inhale the bacteria, his damaged lungs couldn't fight the bacteria, the coughing would flare up, the sores would reopen and it just kept going. Devin had a strong feeling that getting the ulcers healed while he was sedated would put a stop to it, at least for now.
    That left the treatment. There were inhalants and pills Fang could take if there was another flare up in the future for emergency purposes. He could do oxygen therapy if things got dire. But primarily, this came down to creating a healthy lifestyle that he and Durant both knew was going to be a struggle. And possibly never happen. He'd be right back to where he was now. Laying in a bed hooked up to IVs or dead in a gutter once his lungs collapsed or his heart seized. Sure, there are individuals that were predisposed to either inheriting this disease or the environment could worsen it, but this was primarily the result of Fang's choice of lifestyle.
    Devin was prepared to address Fang with these facts. He was well practiced delivering hard news. He was going to bring sleeping beauty out of his peaceful slumber slowly. Less of a threat if he couldn't find his legs to begin with. Everyone reacted to waking up from sedation differently.
    It was time to sit by Fang's side and wait for him to wake up. Durant knew it bugged the kids at first, that no matter what shit they went through, he was always there by their side like he was glued to them. He didn't hold their hand, however. They had to ride it out. They were not alone. They could be their worst, but he didn't budge or look away. Durant rubbed his leg even if he knew it didn't help. Focus on something else. On someone else. Right now...that was Fang.
    It started with slowly opening his eyes, a feeling like he should be awake but didn't exactly know why. After staring for a moment, Fang slowly tipped his head and noticed Durant first. Different from the first time he woke up in the room, he didn't panic. He grinned and pointed at Durant, "Baaalldy. You fucked me over. You a bitch." He distinctly remembered going down after some mystery pills at dinnertime (several days ago). 
    "Please refrain from moving too much," Devin chimed in, administering the wake-me-up fluids.
     Fang's chipper attitude deflated, rolling his head towards the doctor. He frowned, "The fuck asked you?" That's when he noticed he was all hooked up, following the line to his arm.
    "You were in a medical coma from the effects of the medication prescribed to you. Because of your non-responsive state, we had to take life saving measures without your consent," Devin explained. More or less truth with a little less explaining exactly everything. Good enough.
    "I was gonna die?" Fang raised a brow with a smirk, slow to catch up since his mind was all a loopy fog.
    "The state of your health suggested as much without intervention," he answered shortly. He fully knew what answer Fang was looking for. They were all this way. How Durant could tolerate it so many times without wanting to jump off his roof was beyond Devin's patience. But he was trying to be better for the sake of his practice. It was to save people, after all.
    "You two suck," Fang groaned, turning onto his back. His body felt so stiff! His chest felt funny. His mouth felt dry. And yet…when he swallowed, it didn't hurt. He glanced at the IV bag Devin was messing with.
      Devin answered without prompt, "I ran tests so I could properly treat your health while you were unresponsive. I couldn't be sure if your lungs were operating at full capacity because of the distinct lack of oxygen present in your bloodstream. That's how we found significant damage to your lungs that has been the source of your cough."
    "Nooo," Fang scolded the doctor like he wasn't the expert here. "You said it was pneumonia. Get your shit straight. Now you change your mind? Fuckin'..."
    Devin continued, lowering the IV feed to put off administering the rest of the fluids. Not until after his attitude perked up. "Pneumonia was only secondary from the infections in your throat and vocal cords from the ulcers. The combination set off what I see to be early stages of COPD, a respiratory condition caused by the significant amount of damage stemming from your smoking and other dangerous substance habits. I ran your genetics; and you're negative as a carrier for the disease, therefore it has been primarily caused by inhalation of dangerous and toxic substances."
    Fang rolled his eyes. Here we go. Smoking and drugs bad, blah blah blah…
    Devin looked to Durant with a 'good luck with this one' expression. He continued the dose into the IV, "The damage I saw is concurrent with an adult with about twenty years of smoking damage. It is highly recommended that you quit-"
    "Not happening, fucker."
    Devin went ahead and plunged the rest of the fluid into the direct line to Fang as Fang started to fuss with it to pull it out. "If you can't quit, cutting back drastically would be greatly beneficial to your health. You will have a relapse if you continue the path you're on now. You will be hospitalized. Failure to treat this will make you susceptible to more lung infections, can cause your lungs to collapse or rupture, and could lead to developing heart conditions as well that could result in heart attack or failure. Ignoring this is…" Devin really had to fight to call it what Fang was being. Stupid and stubborn. The latter causing the prior. He took a breath and pulled the IV from Fang's arm rather firmly.
    "Ow, bitch," Fang growled, rubbing his arm. It really hadn't hurt that much but…fuck this guy.
    Devin snatched Fang's arm and wrapped the injection site as he would any patient. "Please take the time to consider your options. I will leave several pamphlets with information about your condition along with treatment options and clinical studies. I am strongly recommending you cut back on smoking until you can quit, get regular exercise to strengthen your heart, and maintain a healthy diet to keep a healthy weight. The more you can do now will greatly increase your quality of life going into the future." Devin knew this was as good as talking to a brick. Talking about health and futures to someone that could hardly see past today with the lifestyle of an alley rat. There was a day when Devin would have wanted to hear these words. Some kind of hope for tomorrow. Fang wasn't forsaken. He had a future. But he had to want one.
    Devin stepped back towards the bedroom door with the remaining medical equipment in tow. "You no longer need the medication for your throat. I can clear you for physical activity and recommend you begin a light regimen." One he already ran past Durant if Fang just so happened to stick around… "Are there any further questions or information I need to clarify?" He looked between Fang and Durant if he had left anything out. Otherwise, he'd be grateful to leave. His patience only went so far with Durant's guests before he just wanted to tell them how stupid they were for not being able to see what an opportunity they had right in their lap. Someone putting in all the effort and support to help them and so blind to it.
    Fang had managed to sit up, feeling weird and woozy, kind of like being drunk. "Clarify my dick," Fang slurred, flipping a middle finger to the good doctor. Fight, resist, deny, ignore, deflect. All defense mechanisms too strongly rooted at Fang’s core. Everyone in the room knew why he didn't want to hear it. He had finally made it to the crossroads of his life at too young of an age where he had to make very serious choices all while his maturity was greatly stunted.
    “Treat the doctor with respect, Fang,” Durant reminded him. “He has done nothing but helped you. He does not deserve any of the smack talk from you. Civil and with respect. Is that clear?” There were no swears or a raise of his tone, but the look Durant gave Fang told business was to come if Fang didn't get his words in order when it came to the doc. Fang put the one finger salute away but the glare remained, meeting up with Durant's as he looked over him.
    The glare down seemed to be given from eyes that were all dark and void, but they held sympathy even if it just sparked under the dark surface. He had to push through, push more and more to get Fang to know he wasn't alone. “You think that you can fool fucking everyone else by the shit you are playing, but you can't fool me, Fang. Not one bit. I see you. The real you. Under all those layers you hide under. I know you play like you are the meanest and hardest fucker out there, acting like you don't care about anything or anyone, especially not yourself but you're not. You do care but you are scared. Scared of any slither of kindness, scared how any little bit of love shown remind you how big and empty that fucking hole inside you actually is.”
    He didn't budge. Didn't look away. The kid had reached out a hand that first day here. The first step. Asking for help.  Always hard. But sometimes it was harder to take the second one. To continue onto the new path. It hurt. It was painful. Especially if you knew, or realized how hard it would become going forward. Some chickened out. Like a trapped animal the first instinct was to either flight or fight. But Fang in this state couldn't really do either. He was forced to listen. All he had was his mouth. All he could do was talk back. This however, was the turning point. It was time to pick the path for the future. There was no escape from that. The only one that could do that for Fang was Fang himself.
    “I know who you are, boy, because you are a lot like me. We are dancing with the fucking demons in our minds. They have knocked you down so many times. But for this fight you are not fighting them alone anymore! You got me, Fang. By your side. All the way. For better or for worse. Dare them. Take this chance. Prove to the fuckers you can come back strong. Come back better. Prove it to yourself! You are fucking stronger than them!” People who had let him down or...perhaps ones that Fang had let down at some point in his life for one reason or another. Those that didn't think he could become anything.
    “The chance is right here, just waiting for you. I believe in you, but you need to dare to believe in yourself too, even just a little. You ARE worth the help, Fang. You are worth fighting for. You asked me to help you, remember. But you also need to actually want to be helped. I can't do this without you.”
    There wasn't much he could do if Fang turned the chance down. Give him a bit of cash and wish him all the best in life. Let him know Durant would be there for him still. That he always could come back. The help he offered wasn't ordered by a court. In fact, he could be in trouble himself for what he had done so far. To save someone's life because they were not mentally or medically fit to do so themselves.
    Fang snarled just as Durant knew he would. Kindness couldn't be trusted. "I don't need this bullshit!" Fang lashed out, not in the least intimidated. He was so hardwired to retaliate when backed in a corner, he didn't even stop and think about his actions. "I just wanted help off the fucking crack and that's done! I'm all fucking better, asshole!" He gestured to himself as he gave into anger.
    "If you fucking know me so goddamn well, you can take that mushy bullshit and shove it up your own asshole if it'll make you feel better! Because there's not a fucking point to all of this! What are we solving here, dickheads?" He quickly pulled Devin into this as well before returning his glare to Durant. So what if he could outpower him!? Types like Fang sought out confrontation when cornered, showing no weakness. Durant had him read like a book. Fang was just looking for a reason to lash out. "What's the fucking point? I am a fucking tough ass. I am not scared of the shit in my head I fucking deal with every fucking day. I am not here because I needed to fucking hold anyone's hand!" Tough ass.
    "I have nothing to prove to anyone! No one fucking cares if I cure cancer or if I die in a fucking gutter. It doesn't matter! I don't care if you believe in me. There's nothing to believe in. I'm not fucking special. None of us are! We're all the same fucking walking sacks of shit. I'll die like everyone else and the world keeps spinning."
    Devin took a side step to make sure Durant was a little more in between them, not that Fang could really move well but he was a little too lively for his liking. His attention was mostly shouting at Durant but the quick glare his way prompted him to move. He was more or less just a witness at this point. There weren't any sharp objects nearby besides the needles in his pocket. Best to keep his distance. This kid was damaged goods inside and out. Devin was never this bad. He had been, though he groans to admit it, more of the soppy sad type, not the shouting aggressive fighter type. Should he say something? He hesitated on that thought, opting to think on it longer if it would be beneficial or just paint a target on his forehead next. Loud mouth monkey. Devin sighed and finally muttered, "For what it's worth, a lot of people would care very deeply if you cured cancer."
    Fang growled, tearing his hateful glare from Durant to Devin, "Man, what the fuck-" That was the last word he could get out before whatever Durant did stunned him. He growled and fought against what felt like the simplest touch but his whole upper body was in some kind of lockdown.
    Knowing very well that he didn't have to do this, Devin took a step closer while Durant had him incapacitated, swallowing his pride. Somedays, he had to be more than a doctor. That was something he had realized when Durant had walked him through the shadows long ago. He had gotten very good at putting all his emotions away but there was a point where he had to embrace the suck. "Durant is offering you a point; a reason. You said there wasn't a point? You're really so selfish to eat his food, sleep in his house, waste his time and then not hear out one request? If you could stand on your own, you wouldn't be here. Simple as that. I wouldn't be here if he didn't ask for my help. I also wouldn't be here if I didn't get his help too. You wouldn't be here without me and I wouldn't be here without you. Everyone here benefits from the other simply trying for the other. You are not the only one here trying. You're very good at it or you wouldn't have made it this far. You've proved that much. We are simply asking you to try something else while you wallow in your misery."
    "If you desire some kind of goal, we have offered a schedule of exercise, diet, and a very reasonable decrease in the use of inhalants such as cigarettes through alternative nicotine and marijuana products. If it's too much all at once, that plan can change. You dying in a gutter isn't what we care about, you are right. What we will care about is that you didn't at least try. What else do you have to do if not at least that much? You said it yourself. Besides," Devin sighed, "I can't keep coming up with new drugs for Durant every time another one of you turds ends up in the morgue. Really, Durant, you're due for an exam too."
    With Fang’s body in timeout, it did give him time to simmer down a couple degrees. Just as he was forcing his arms to work again to push up, Devin caught him off guard, making him almost spit before a laugh burst out. It was directed at Durant to mock him for getting called out now of all times. The way he said it so mundane and routine just blasted the deep, heated moment to bits. "Someone needs to get their asshole probed," Fang laughed harder. It found it incredibly bewildering to jump from 'life ending disease' to 'old man, you need a check up too' so causally. "Ey, you like making deals," he was talking to Durant. "I will read one stupid pamphlet if you get your prostate tickled-" he could hardly finish the sentence before he giggled childishly.
    Shifting his stance, Durant gave Devin a dark glance about being reminded before turning it towards Fang. It wasn't that thing really that needed a checkup. What pained him couldn't really be cured. If Fang in the future would be able to cure both cancer and phantom pains, wouldn't that be sweet. First step was for him to...well...survive himself first. “Sure. But I will pick the pamphlet.”


(3445 wordcount) 
damn, i do try to cut these down xD 


tldr SUMMARY;
--Dr. Devin Kirk and Durant keep Fang sedated while they treat him and run some tests
--Durant can't dig up anything more on Fang's family but it doesn't make sense from the "nice family" on the outside
--Tests turn out that Fang has early stages of COPD; a disease typically for 40+ year olds with lots of lung damage...
--They decide to wake up Fang now that the ulcers are healed at least 
--Devin lays out what Fang needs to do in order to create a healthy lifestyle so he doesn't just have a heart attack in a few years 
--Fang, of course, in lovely terms says "lol no thanks" (he likes his smokes) 
--Cue the back and forth of Deven and Durant encouraging him to do better and Fang being a brat about it 
--Ends up Fang will read one medical pamphlet if Durant gets his prostate examined because that's funny. 
--Oh, Fang... : """) 

Previous: Take Your Medicine || Next: Waste Management

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**full disclosure: fuck medical stuff, im not a doctor, i google basic information, this is fiction, i don't need/want medical advice for this xD It's just for the sake of a fictional pixel person story <''3 anyone that actually has COPD or knows someone with COPD, please stick to what a real doctor has instructed you/them to do.

Basically, a while back, I decided to wreck Fang's health and so I decided to pick out some kind of disease to work with. And this fit better with what I had going on with him and I felt I could develop him along the way with it. Fought back and forth, wondering if I should pick something a little less permanent but eh, it runs in my (distant) family so i rolled with it. Good morning, Fang, welcome to main character woes <''3  

This was fun to color~ This might be the first time I was brave enough to just like..."paint" all at once? As in, not fill everything in with the "proper" colors and then add shading layers. I've never been confident enough to just like...pick some colors and go all at once! It was cool to just do it all at once to feel what its like <3 (i dont think one way is better than the other, i was just inclined to do it without a second thought xD) dont look at my painfully cliche skull in the smoke, okay? 


Symbolisms:
-The smoke is "planted" as it is in his lungs, with its roots already firmly rooted. The damage is done, it cannot be reversed. 
-The smoke leading up to a skull - I mean, that's pretty obvious right? Smoke bad. 
-The leaves sprouting is the hope that something better can come from this. Something may blossom from something so harmful. (maybe a better life??)
-And then it's all just in front of Fang. He hasn't stomped it out or tried to pull it out. Perhaps he understands that this all takes time and he has to be patient to see what will come of it. Hopefully not before it all burns up. <''3 

sometimes i think i make deep shit. 


Fang(s)/uh...Dr. Devin technically?/Art © Drasayer 
Durant/RP Words © decors 
No specific refs for angst


Procreate/Photoshop CS6