Once-ler One Shot Collection

(You Make Me) Breathless. (Once-ler x Sick Reader)

It wasn't always easy growing up with the health issues you had. You couldn't play sports, or run around for very long. It started as asthma, but only worsened over time. So when the thneed factory was built just outside of town you felt the effects of the pollution quickly. First it was just minor coughing. But as the pollution increased so did the symptoms. You could barely walk through town without getting winded. Then the worst day came. You were walking to work when you had a coughing fit. Each cough increased in pain. Your knees buckled as you collapsed on the ground. Of course people stopped and tried to help you. But it just wasn't enough. Each gasp hurt and stars speckled your peripheral vision. This was it, wasn't it? Your lungs burned, ached almost, for a rush of oxygen that never came.

It was nearly a day until you woke up. It took some time for the hazy vision to focus. Somehow you weren't dead. That was a plus. Your arms were now occupied with so many cords. Some carried medicine to your body as others kept track of your vitals. Your fingers fumbled to press the button to bring a nurse into the room. When she arrived she smiled at you.

"How long-" you coughed, even talking too loud felt like it was a lot of effort. You dropped your voice to a whisper, "how long have I been here?"

"About a day or so. The doctor will be happy to see you awake."

"What happened?"

"There's been a change in your condition. It's best you speak with the doctor."

"Is it that bad?"

"He'll be in shortly."

"I, er, okay," you sighed as she was out the door.

Your family had not yet arrived and you doubt they would have. They only saw you as burden. All the medical expenses added up. So when you were old enough they had kicked you out. As they said you weren't their problem anymore. Recalling this on top of your current condition made you anxious. If it came down to it that you couldn't work, how would you pay for treatment? Your head flopped back onto the pillow as you waited silently for the doctor to come in. Just as he appeared in the doorway there was a loud commotion. You sat up feeling your breath catch at the back of your throat. The doctor spun around watching as a group surrounded a stretcher barreling down the hall at top speed. The doctor's eyes lit up as he saw the person and took off toward the passing crowd. You opened your mouth eager to talk, but he was gone in an instant. When you looked at the ground you saw a tiny trail of blood drips on the floor. Maybe that person was more injured than your condition. You flicked the television on and flipped aimlessly through the channels.

It was hours later. The sky had just begun to darken. You fell asleep to your favorite movie which had luckily come on. But it was a knocking on the door that woke you.

"Miss ____," the doctor reappeared addressing you by your last name.

"Yes?"

"You're condition-"

"How bad is it?" you interrupted.

"It's...well, this is going to sound scarier than it really is. Your immune system weakened. And the amount of new pollution in the air has really hurt your lungs. You won't be able to go outside again. Any prolonged exposure to the pollutants will only deteriorate your lungs further."

Never go outside again? Your thoughts screamed in your head. How is that not scary? I have to live inside for the rest of my life? How am I going to work?

"What does this mean?" you ask.

"We are going to keep you here for awhile. Make sure nothing goes wrong."

"What would go wrong?"

"We just want to keep you for a few days."

"But...how do I work? How do I make a living?"