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#short little ficlet this time instead of comic! i didnt want to draw all the medical stuff
small-as-a-mouse · 3 years
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Part 3 of whatever this is
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(tw: injury, blood, manhandling, referring to tiny as ‘it’ non-maliciously)
“This is it,” Toby thought, reaching a hand out towards his windowsill, “finals hit me so hard that I’ve started hallucinating.”
He wasn’t really thinking as picked the creature up. It felt so... real. It was clear just looking at it that it wasn’t a doll or anything, and the blood was a dead give away that it was a living thing. He gently raised it up, careful not to put any pressure on its delicate wings or probably broken leg, and pressed his finger against its neck. He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the thump, thump, thump of a tiny heartbeat. Then he shook his head. No. No, stop, this wasn’t real. No way. He was sleep deprived. It didn’t matter that he could feel the thing’s pulse, or the warmth of its tiny body, or the weight of it laid across his palm.
The hallucination let out a whimper and pressed it’s head into his finger. Toby groaned.
He carried the fairy, because that’s what it was, obviously, a fairy, what else could it be, into his bathroom and laid it on the side of the sink while he retrieved the first aid kit that he knew was in the medicine cabinet.  He turned on the water.
“Ok. I know how to do this. I know how to do this on a person my size, but realistically it can’t be that different. Here we go.”
Toby washed the fairy’s leg off, hissing in sympathy whenever the unconscious fairy whined in discomfort. He had to cut away some of its pant leg that had been stuck in the wound. He cleaned the blood away then disinfected the area, realizing pretty quickly the type of injury he was looking at. He hoped Angel was up to date on shots. Toby wrapped the leg, thanking God that it hadn’t turned out to be broken. He didn’t know who was luckier, the fairy or him, since he was sure if he tried to set a bone that small he’d probably end up making it worse. He frowned as he looked at the torn wing on its back. He didn’t know how to fix that. It looked sort of like a dragonfly wing, and Toby didn’t think that they could regenerate. If a bug got its wing torn on off... Toby didn’t want to think about what being grounded meant for a creature like this.
He left the fairy on the sink as he set up his room. He took a large shoe box from his closet and grabbed an old t-shirt, which he bunched into a makeshift bed in the corner of the box. As he was making his way around his room, his eyes landed on the windowsill, where a flower was lying. The fairy had been lying next to that flower, Toby realized, he’d just been so shocked at the creature’s appearance that he’d barely processed it. Is that why the fairy had been in the garden and in the dog’s way? It was trying to get a flower. Were daisies super important to fairies? Toby let out a hum.
He ran down stairs to the kitchen and looked around, finally finding a small jar in one of the cabinets- something hopefully no one would miss. He filled the jar with water and brought it back upstairs, placing it in the shoe box before going back to grab the fairy, who was still dead to the world but whose pulse was still going strong, and lying him inside. He dropped the daisy in the jar, and stared at his handiwork.
Now to wait.
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