A few quick notes to make first:

1. I am an amateur writer. Drawing is what I do- that is what I want my career to be; writing is a hobby. So this is far from perfect, though I did work very hard on it and would like respect. That is not to say that I don’t want critique; by all means, give me some!

2. I do NOT expect everyone to like this. It is very “angsty”, dramatic, and filled with controversial topics.

3. All the characters in this are indeed dragons. That in itself is very strange, I know. I tried to write it in a way that if you don’t care to mentally view the characters as anthropomorphic dragons, you can imagine them as people fairly easily.

4. Though the title is comedic, the story in itself is a “dramedy” with heavy emphasis on the “drama” part.

5. I do have drawn references of the main characters on my deviantART (username tangerinevampire).

6. This story consists of stand-alone stories, in the sense that each connects to the others, but they can also be read by themselves pretty much.

7. Do review please! I will be very happy. (:

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Phil was never fond of the doctor or anyone associated with the medical business and was reminded of that fact one Friday afternoon. It was nearing summer and he was quite aware of how odd he looked wearing his black sweatshirt but didn’t care since there wasn’t much he could do about it. It was weird enough for a dragon to wear any items of clothing, besides during winter, but even stranger to wear a sweatshirt in warm weather. Many gave him questioning looks but eventually dismissed him as being extra cold-blooded or obnoxiously “emo”.

Phil headed to Ollie’s convertible where he and Dusty were waiting for him. As he neared the parking lot, he spied Steve walking his way. Steve was an okay dragon; a bit annoying at times but tolerable for Phil’s standards. He was considered to be one of Phil’s acquaintances. As soon as he caught sight of Phil, Steve ambled over.

“Hey, Phil! How’s life?” Steve asked, eying the sweatshirt curiously as he usually did.

“Bleak.” Phil answered in a monotone.

Steve snorted. “You’re okay Phil!” he chuckled while slapping the shorter dragon on the back.

Phil gasped with shock at the harsh contact. His world spun while all he could think about was the excruciating pain flaring up from under his sweatshirt. Bile rose in his throat as he realized how much that simple slap on the back felt like the sting of a whip. With a moan he stumbled and was distantly aware that he was falling.

Well this is just dandy. Steve will definitely notice something’s up when his buddy collapses from a little slap on the back, Phil thought, irritated at his own weakness. Fuck that hurts!

Tensing up for his inevitable meeting with the pavement, Phil was relieved but slightly annoyed when he was supported by a couple of strong arms. Looking up, he blinked rapidly to clear his vision only to realize with horror that he was blinking back tears and had let one escape, darting down his cheek, leaving its shameful watery path behind. Blushing a bit, he glanced up once again only to meet Dusty’s concerned face. At least it was his friend and not a complete stranger or even worse a professor who caught him. Dusty would understand why he had fallen and almost slipped into unconsciousness; he was the only one who knew.

Flustered, Phil gave Dusty an irritated look that seemed to say, “Well thanks for the catch, but you just caused me unwanted attention”, which Dusty returned with an exasperated look that clearly said, “You would have gotten attention if you had just fallen to the ground anyways”.

Struggling to regain balance on his feet, Phil faced Steve who was openly staring in shock. “Dude, are you alright? Do you need to see the nurse? You seem to be in pain.”

Phil would have scoffed at Steve’s air-headed observation, if it wasn’t for the wave of panic that overwhelmed him. “N-No! I’m fine, really. Isn’t that right, Dusty?” He looked over at Dusty who had a contemplative look on his face. “…Dusty?”

“Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you went to the nurse. It’ll reassure us at least…” Dusty said while scratching his fuzzy chin.

Phil felt like he had been slapped by that betrayal and might have fallen down if Dusty hadn’t still been supporting him. “What?!”

Dusty leaned down by Phil’s ear to whisper, “Relax, it’ll be a piece of cake, and besides, it will reassure Steve and that teacher over there who looks pretty worried.” He nodded to a concerned professor who did look like she was about ready to intervene and take him to the nurse herself.

“You dick, you know how I hate the nur-“ Phil started to furiously whisper before he was cut off by Dusty raising his head back up to say to Steve, “Alright, I’ll take him to the nurse.”

“I’ll come with you, since it’s sort of my fault really,” Steve said, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

Phil huffed angrily, and shoved Dusty away from him. “I can at least walk by myself,” he growled. Taking a few steps, he was overcome by dizziness and stumbled. Dusty rushed up to him and took hold of his arm.

“Um, no you can’t,” he said, flashing an apologetic smile, which was returned by an angry scowl from Phil.

Steve at least had the sense to not try to support the furious dragon as well. He half-heartedly grinned and walked at a slow pace beside them.

Phil kept his eyes on the ground, his face flushed with barely contained rage. How could Dusty do this to him? Was there no alternative? He wanted to voice his main concern about visiting the nurse but couldn’t possibly with Steve present.

“Are you still in a lot of pain?” Dusty asked quietly.

Phil continued to look at the ground but answered, “…No, not really. At least, I don’t think I’ll black out or anything from it.” It wasn’t a complete lie; he really didn’t think he would faint, but his back was still wracked with agony.

Dusty undoubtedly knew Phil was hiding how much pain he was really in but didn’t comment on it. Instead he announced, “Well, we’re here anyways.”

Cringing slightly, Phil raised his eyes to see the door to the nurse’s office before him. He trembled and then forced his body to tense up, knowing that Dusty would notice it. “Seriously, guys, I don’t need to see the nurse. I’m fine, really!” He spun around to face the other way hoping to make his escape but staggered slightly as spots danced before his eyes. Well this is just swell, Phil, now they’ll definitely make you go.

“Phil, you’re going,” Dusty ordered in a commanding tone.

Phil glared defiantly back at his friend. “You have no right to order me around; I’m three years older than you.”

“Well right now you’re acting three years younger than me; you’re going,” Dusty retorted.

Steve had been watching this exchange with great interest. “Phil, why don’t you want to go? It’s not that bad at all. She’ll probably just fuss over you a bit and then declare you’re sick or something and to go home and sleep.”

Phil heaved a resigned sigh, knowing that he would have to go through with it. “Goddamnit, alright I’ll go.”

Dusty nodded and turned to Steve. “I’ll bring him in; you don’t have to wait here. Thanks for coming with us.”

“It was the least I could do… Alright, I’ll see you guys on Monday I guess. Have a nice weekend. I hope you feel better, man.” Steve started to walk away but turned around and looked at Phil curiously. He narrowed his eyes as though trying to see through the sweatshirt.

Phil felt his skin become a little clammy as he realized that Steve might not be so air-headed after all.

“That’s just brilliant, Dusty. We’ve gone and made him suspicious. Now I definitely have to go,” Phil growled quietly.

Dusty sighed, “Yup. C’mon, let’s go in.” He started to drag Phil along.

“You don’t have to lead me! I’m not a whelp you know,” Phil snarled.

The taller dragon shook his head. “God, you have a temper. Alright, I’ll just support you.”

As he was led through the door into a hallway, Phil’s heart began racing as he saw the approaching office. He started shaking and this time he couldn’t get it to stop, which caused Dusty to secure his grip on Phil’s arm more reassuringly. Using his shoulder, Dusty pushed open the office door revealing an elderly dragoness nurse. Many wrinkles adorned her leathery hide and she had no wings, but she did have two short horns which looked about ready to turn to dust. She turned to face them, a questioning look on her face.

“Excuse us Miss, but my friend Phil here almost collapsed a while ago heading to the parking lot, and I was concerned,” Dusty explained, and Phil noted that he gracefully avoided mentioning that it was because of a casual slap on the back.

“Well then, let’s have a look at you,” the nurse said. She seemed to be kind but Phil did not intend to lower his carefully constructed walls around her. “You,” she said, pointing to Dusty, “wait outside. This room is small enough without three dragons in it.”

Dusty nodded and left, looking a bit worried. A wave of anxiety hit Phil as he realized that Dusty would not be present to help him come up with excuses if she asked him to do the impossible. Impossible that is, unless he wanted to be locked up in a psychiatric ward, tempt the wrath of his father, or quite possibly go to jail for illegal drug use.

“Now, Phillip was it? Is there a last name to go with that?” the nurse asked.

“Bryar.”

“Alright then, Mr. Bryar. Tell me what happened.”

“Well, Miss…”

“It’s Mrs. Poppy.”

“Mrs. Poppy, I simply got dizzy and almost fell down. Dusty caught me and insisted I come here. I really think it’s just school though… it’s taking a toll on me.”

The nurse peered at him over her half-moon spectacles. “We’ll see if that’s the case, Mr. Bryar. Now sit on the table there,” she said, pointing a claw to the uninviting metal table.

Stumbling slightly, and flushing in embarrassment, Phil hefted himself onto the table, wincing a bit. His blood ran cold as he realized that the nurse had been watching him.

“Still dizzy I see,” she observed. “You also seem to be in a bit of pain. Where’s the pain, Mr. Bryar?”

Phil silently damned nurses and their skills in examination. He could be in real trouble. “Um, mostly my… chest.” His eyes widened as he realized his stupidity. That lie was far from good; he had just given her a liable reason to ask him to remove his sweatshirt.

Mrs. Poppy made a humming sound as she wrote that down. She approached Phil and firmly grabbed his chin, her claws brushing against his goatee, holding his head still as she looked at his eyes. Phil got control of his surprised flinch before the nurse noticed. She frowned at his eyeliner and eyebrow piercings, clearly not approving of his choice of fashion. Phil couldn’t hold her gaze for more than a few seconds and looked off to his left.

“You do look exhausted,” she commented, noting the shadows under his eyes. “Please look at me, Mr. Bryar.” Phil’s long ears went as low as they could as he slowly met her gaze. He was never good at keeping eye contact, especially while being scrutinized so closely. The nurse looked at his face for a few more moments and then let go of his chin. “Do you sleep well at night?”

Phil decided to at least be partially honest with this. “Um… no, not really. I’m, uh, a bit of an insomniac, so to speak. Plus, the amount of school work I have leads to some all-nighters.” He didn’t dare mention that he didn’t sleep because of the nightmares of his past that caused him to scream and plead until his voice was hoarse or that he was just barely above a failing score in almost all his classes from usually neglecting his homework.

“Well, it shows. That could have led to your dizziness. You really need a good night’s sleep,” she stated. “I expect you to catch up on some this weekend. No late nights.”

Easier said than done, Phil thought, longing for a dreamless night’s rest. “I’ll try, Mrs. Poppy.”

“Good. Now I need to listen to your heartbeat to make sure nothing’s wrong with that,” she said briskly. “Please lift up your sweatshirt, at least so I can see your chest.”

Phil gulped, and did as he was told, knowing that she would surely notice his ribs. That was a small sacrifice. He could deal with being reprimanded for his weight, but he couldn’t deal with her seeing his scars. Phil made sure that the back of his sweatshirt didn’t rise at all.

The nurse shook her head in dismay at his thinness. “Mr. Bryar, you are appallingly skinny. Don’t tell me you do not eat as well as not sleep.”

Phil blushed and avoided her glare. “I… don’t have much of an appetite.” That was true. “I’m usually too busy doing school work and other things to notice really.” That wasn’t.

Mrs. Poppy sighed. “This weekend, make sure you try to eat more and sleep more. And come in for a check-up with me every couple of weeks, okay? No wonder you were dizzy… Can you at least do that much for me?”

No. Don’t expect me to be back in this office anytime soon either. Phil brought his gaze back to her face. “I’ll try, Mrs. Poppy.”

She nodded but didn’t look very convinced. Taking the end of the stethoscope that was around her neck, the nurse placed it on Phil’s chest. He flinched slightly from the sensation. “I’m sorry, is it cold?” she asked.

“Yeah…” he said. It was a bit cold on his skin, but he wasn’t flinching from the temperature. The contact alone was not welcome.

Mrs. Poppy asked him to breathe deeply a few times and he complied as she placed the stethoscope on different areas of his chest. Finally, she told him that he could lower his sweatshirt. Phil almost let out a sigh of relief but didn’t want to reveal how freaked out he had been.

“Your heart rate seems a little more rapid than average, though it shouldn’t be anything to really worry about. Just to be sure, I’ll move on to your back now,” she stated, approaching him from behind.

Phil froze and knew that if he was anywhere near the nurse’s age he surely would have experienced a heart attack from the stress he felt at that moment. “I-I don’t have to l-lift up my sweatshirt again, do I?” He mentally cursed himself for stammering but knew he was on the brink of a panic attack.

She studied him for a few moments, her curiosity quite clear. “No, Mr. Bryar. At least, not for this.”

Phil relaxed but only a bit, realizing that she expected him to remove his sweatshirt at some point during the procedure. I have to leave before that happens. He was now on full alert, looking for an opportunity to sneak out. His back tensed up, waiting for the unavoidable. This is going to hurt like a bitch…

His breath hitched in a gasp that he barely contained once he felt the pressure from the stethoscope on his back. It was directly on one of his scars and he attempted to stop his tremors, failing horribly. He focused all his attention on staying conscious, his vision disappearing at small intervals of darkness, until he realized that she expected him to breathe in deeply as well.

“Mr. Bryar?” He heard Mrs. Poppy’s voice come from the shadows that crept into his sight. He concentrated fiercely on regaining his vision, and was rewarded when the darkness backed off, revealing the nurse’s office and reminding him where he was. “Mr. Bryar, breathe in please.”

Phil struggled to inhale and exhale air as he did before but this time it sounded shaky and unstable. He was embarrassed and baffled at his own weakness. Usually when his back was in pain the effects on the rest of his body weren’t so severe. Perhaps the nurse had been right in her judgment that lack of food and sleep were having very negative effects on his body.

Suddenly the pressure being applied to his back was removed. Closing his eyes briefly in relief, he opened them to see Mrs. Poppy staring at him with a worried expression.

“Mr. Bryar, I don’t think you are very well. I’m going to have to ask you to remove your sweatshirt now, so I can fully examine you.”

Icy fear gripped Phil and his breathing became more erratic. “Um, well, you see I-I…” he blindly searched in vain for a reasonable excuse as Mrs. Poppy placed her claws on her hips, giving him a stern look.

Just when it seemed that the nurse would resort to physically removing his clothing, an unfamiliar face poked through the door and informed her that she had a phone call. She nodded but before leaving she gave Phil one last suspicious glance with narrowed eyes. “I’ll be right back, Mr. Bryar.”

Phil watched her briskly leave the room. Jumping at the opportunity- or in his current situation, stumbling- Phil lowered himself as silently as he could from the metal table. He carefully slinked out of the examining room and past the room opposite his, from which he could hear Mrs. Poppy’s muffled laughter behind the closed door as though she was talking to an old friend. Nearing the end of the hallway, his spirits lightened with a renewed sense of hope. He almost reached the doorway where he could see Dusty waiting, his back facing Phil, when a sharp pain shot through his back. Phil hissed and slumped against the wall momentarily, but that was more than enough time for Mrs. Poppy’s head to dart out from the room she was in.

“Mr. Bryar, where in God’s name do you think you’re going?” A combination of shock and irritation was evident on her ancient face.

Pushing himself from the wall, Phil glanced back at her, giving her a fleeting look of exasperation mixed with dread. He said nothing, knowing that there was no excuse he could come up with. Staggering forward, he reached the front door, and called desperately to Dusty who was casually smoking a cigarette. The giant dragon turned and, seeing the state Phil was in, stomped out the cigarette and rushed over.

“Dusty, get me the hell out of here,” Phil said breathlessly. “Hurry!” He threw a panicked look over his shoulder.

Dusty blinked bewildered eyes at his terrified friend. “Why? Who? What happened?”

“No time to explain now,” Phil said in a rush. “Dusty, you have to fly. Please just trust me on this. Fly us out of here!”

His friend seemed to realize the urgency of Phil’s situation. “Fine, climb on my back. Can you hold on?”

Phil nodded and climbed onto the furry pelt of Dusty’s backside. He blushed as he wound his arms around Dusty’s neck, knowing how this must look and being quite thankful that the campus was now deserted. As Dusty’s massive wings stretched to their full length while they prepared for flight, Phil felt a sharp twinge of jealousy. He quickly shrugged it off, knowing that their current situation was not the place for such thoughts.

Dusty asked if he was ready and Phil substituted a grunt for “yes”. Beating his strong wings a couple times Dusty lifted himself and his surprisingly light burden off the ground. Phil thought he saw Mrs. Poppy outside the office from the corner of his eye before his friend’s raised right wing obscured his view. Phil was grateful for that- he didn’t want to see the nurse’s reaction. Soaring above the roof of the main office building, Dusty targeted the top of the library. Landing with a slight thud, he crouched so it would be easier for Phil to get off.

With a groan, Phil stumbled off his friend and steadied himself against a wall, his back facing Dusty.

Dusty’s tufted ears twitched as he remarked, “Looks like you’re still a bit disoriented.”

Clenching his eyes closed while letting out a ferocious roar, Phil spun around and blindly let a fist fly at his much bigger companion. In his upset state, the shorter dragon’s aim was quite off target and Dusty easily dodged the intended punch. After exerting such an energized attack while still so weak, Phil fell into Dusty’s arms for the second time that day, as he angrily realized.

“Now that’s a great way to thank the dragon that flew your sorry ass away from the very place that could make you feel better,” Dusty said, surprised and a bit miffed at his friend’s hostile behavior.

“Let me go,” Phil hissed.

Dusty released him, growling back, “Fine, next time I’ll just let you fall flat on your face after trying to hit me!”

Phil straightened up with a slight wince and glared at the furred dragon. “You’re such a fucking idiot! You always think you know what’s best for me but you don’t. All you know is how to be a fucking douche bag!”

“What are you talking about?” Dusty was in full defense mode, his lips slightly raised to expose the start of a snarl.

“Don’t you realize? Of all the dragons I know, it’s you who knows the most about certain things I have to hide from others, especially those involved in the medical business.”

Dusty’s snarl disappeared, but he said nothing, eyes wide and ears perked up to listen.

Blinking back tears of frustration, Phil barreled on. “God damn it, Dusty! I have had scars all over my back for years that never stop hurting because of that fucking bastard, and you actually wondered why I collapsed from Steve slapping me on the back? Or were you just concerned with my poor eating and sleeping habits? Today was a great day to worry about those things, seeing as how they’ve gone on for years! And don’t even get me started on what would happen if that nurse had found out about the drugs. I haven’t had a fix in several days; what if I started to have withdrawals? Oh, and I wonder what she would have thought if she caught a glance at these lovely marks?” Claws shaking with rage roughly pushed up his sleeves, exposing dozens of angry scratches that blemished the pale scales which covered the undersides of his arms.

Anger finally spent, Phil sank down to his knees. Staring at the ground he whispered, “I’m probably the last dragon you should ever consider bringing to a doctor, unless your goal is to have them condemned to an institution.” He raised his head, and accusing olive green eyes met regretful chocolate brown ones.

“I’m sorry, Phil… I-“ Dusty started to timidly apologize but was cut off by Phil.

“I know I’m not really healthy, neither physically or even mentally but…” The shorter dragon looked up at Dusty, his eyes brimming uncharacteristically with tears before he lowered his gaze to the ground. “D-damn it, Dusty. Do you even know how terrifying the thought of someone else discovering my darkest s-secrets is? You’re the only one who knows, mostly because you were there to help me that n-night. Oh, God, I just w-wish I was normal. I wish I didn’t have those nightmares. I wish I didn’t have to be dependent on drugs. I wish I had a desire for food. I wish…” Phil choked on a sob and couldn’t finish his last desire. Taking a shaky breath he continued, finally looking up at Dusty’s anguished expression. “But you can’t expect me to willingly go to a doctor and be alright. This isn’t something you can simply put a Band-Aid on, Dusty. You- you can’t just fix me, no matter how much you may want to.” He finished the last sentence with his voice reduced to a whisper.

A shaken but sympathetic Dusty slowly lowered himself next to Phil until he sat on the cooling roof of the library building as well. Silently and gently, he pulled Phil’s black sleeves back over his arms, hiding the self-inflicted marks. Phil shivered slightly and flushed, realizing that he had forgotten his arms were still exposed.

Dusty’s voice trembled as his apology burst out of him. “I’m sorry, Phil. You have no idea how sorry I am. I don’t even know what I was thinking when I agreed that you should go to the nurse. I knew the risks, and yet I still insisted. God, I’m so sorry. I’m just worried about you, man.”

Phil turned to look at his larger companion. “I know.” All resentment was gone from his voice; only exhaustion remained.

After a pensive pause, Dusty spoke again. “So, I guess you’re a ‘fugitive’.”

A sharp bark of laughter escaped painfully from Phil. “If being a fugitive entails escaping from a doctor’s office in a blind panic, then I suppose you’re right. Fuck, though. I totally screwed myself over. I’m going to have to be on the watch for that psycho nurse now, because if she spots me, she’s definitely going to drag me back to her office.”

Dusty chuckled lightly but soon fell silent, obviously feeling guilty that Phil had even needed to escape in the first place. Phil noticed his friend’s silence, prompting him to say, “Hey, don’t worry about me. I’ve been in tighter situations before.” He attempted to sit up straighter but winced and slouched down again. “Damn, you don’t happen to have those smokes on you still, do you?”

Out of seemingly nowhere, Dusty revealed his half-empty pack of cigarettes.

Where does he keep those things? Phil’s hazy mind wondered. He immediately forgot his sidetracked thought when Dusty handed him the cancer stick. Sticking it between his teeth he asked the taller dragon to light it for him, which he did, spewing fire from within his lungs.

The two friends lay down side by side on the top of the building, each taking long drags of their cigarettes. Suddenly, Dusty sat up. “Oh, snap.”

Phil groggily turned his head, facing Dusty. “What?”

“It’s getting late, and Ollie’s still waiting for us in his car!”