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Recovery isn't a straight line... its a roller-coaster that's running of the rails and the ground is on fire

Summary:

Floyd struggles to recover after the events of trolls 3

Notes:

Hi y'all once again i am seriously sleep deprived because i had this idea after watching the movie and at like 4 am i had a plot that i absolutely had to write about. Trolls 3 has been my hyper fixation for a week because the movie is so damn good ( Floyd is my precious cinnamon roll) but i have issues. A, as anatomy and cna student I knoow that being deprived of food and water for 2 months is not something you walk away from, I was like there is no way he is just fine. B, i knew what this baby should have been under weight on top of the fact that this guy DIED! So as a fanfic writer with, ADHD, creative licensing, Trolls music, and 3 cans of Pepsi i decided to take matters into my own hands

( i have school in 2 hours and have not slept at all, pray for me)

Enjoy! 😀

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Floyd was the happiest he had ever been, even though he had just died seeing his brother so happy brought tears to his eyes.

He had always wondered what had happened to his brothers, nights staying up wondering what had happened to them and they had turned out alright

JD was hugging him as he was letting tears roll down his cheeks

As his brother stepped away, Floyd felt a wave of nausea overcome him, he had barely eaten in the last 2 months, his stomach hurt so badly his head was pounding, and he couldn't remember the last time he had food or water. His vision swam his legs buckled and he fell to the ground

His ears rang as his brothers ran over to him, their mouths moved but no sound came out, Floyd started to panic, he felt arms around him and he weakly fought against them thinking he had been captured again

The last thing he heard was his brother yelling “ Floyd!” and he passed out

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The next time he wakes up it’s dark and he is no longer on the ground, instead, he's lying down in a soft bed, and a pillow supporting his head.
.
The pain had lessened and his body felt heavy. Floyd tried to sit up but couldn't even get his arms to push himself up. His throat hurt and something was sticking to his cheek.

 

With his free hand, Floyd reached up to his face and felt a tube taped to it, running into his nose.

 

“ Floyd, you awake?” a voice said

John Dory walked over to him, Floyd expected him to ram him into a hug but instead, he carefully sat down next to him moving the bangs out of his eyes

“ JD?” he croaked

His brother gave him a sad smile “ You scared the shit out of us little bro”

“ Sorry”

“It's okay, how do you feel?” he asked concern evident in his face

“ My stomach hurts, where am I?” Floyd asked confused

John Dory’s smile dimed “ Well when you collapsed, we all panicked and immediately brought you to the nearest hospital, you’ve been asleep for four days”

Floyd nodded, trying to process the information. His head and stomach were still throbbing. He reached up to touch the tube in his nose, he didn't like how it moved in his throat, it made his stomach turn uncomfortably, but JD gently moved his hand back to his side

 

“ Leave that alone okay? You are seriously malnourished It has been feeding you, you need it”

The unasked question of how much did they feed him was clear in his brother's face, kind but trying not to push

“ They didn't really, Velvet didn't like the idea, she thought I would try to escape if they opened the bottle. Veneer gave me bits of things sometimes when she wasn't looking.”

His brother looked furious and his jaw clenched in anger at what those two had done to his little brother

“ Can I have some water?” Floyd asked trying to distract his brother.

JD seemed to calm himself down and helped Floyd sit up so he could drink from a cup of water with a straw. Greedily Floyd downed it quickly, his mouth felt like sand and he wanted to rid it of the dry rough feeling.

About halfway through his second cup, his brother yanked the cup away

Angrily, Floyd glared at him, though his weakened state did not make the glare particularly intimidating.

“ Don’t drink so fast” His brother explained “You’re dehydrated, if you drink too fast you’ll make yourself sick”

 

Ignoring his brother he snatched the cup back and continued drinking until his stomach lurched, and nausea overcame him.

John Dory anticipated this and he quickly held a tub under his chin, Floyd vomited the very little water he had into it and dissolved into a coughing fit

His brother refilled another glass, instructing Floyd to drink slowly. He managed to consume three cups of water before exhaustion overcame him, and he laid back down.

“ Mmm, JD” he mumbled

“ Yeah?” his brother replied

“ When can I get the tube out of my nose?”

John Dory grimaced “ Not for a while bud, You really need it. You're severely underweight, and the doctors are worried that your stomach might start to eat itself."

Floyd tried to fix his brother with his best puppy eyes, which usually did the trick when he was little, it didn't hurt that he looked like he could be knocked over with a leaf

“ Please John Dory, it scares me” Floyd pleaded with his brother

This seemed to strike a chord with John Dory as he groaned averting his eyes for a moment before turning back “ I always hoped you would grow out of that, it shouldn't work at your age”

Finally, after a long time, he sighed “ Fine I’ll see what I can do, now go to sleep ”

Floyd smirked and he snuggled into his brother's side, JD chuckled and wrapped an arm around him, and started humming.

The tune was familiar, it brought him back to when he was just a tiny little trolling and JD used to sing him to sleep when he had nightmares.

Back then they weren't pop stars just brothers who loved music.

Here he was at 30 and his older brother was singing him to sleep, some things never changed

And with the feeling of warmth and safety, he slipped into dreamland.

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The average adult troll weighs about 40 grams Floyd, being on the smaller side, weighed in at 37 grams. However, in the past two months, he had lost 7 grams, about a fourth of his body weight. Understandably, everyone around him grew concerned. The medical staff explained that a troll could survive losing up to eighteen percent of their body weight, but Floyd was dangerously close to that limit. Despite the hospital's efforts to provide him with a high-calorie diet, the progress he made was minimal.

His brothers were told that for him to recover, he needed to gradually reintroduce solid food into his diet.

With the promise of John Dory the medical staff agreed to remove the tube so long as Floyd ate

Although he wanted to eat, Floyd couldn't shake the panic and fear he felt. Clay reassured him that his reaction was understandable given everything he had been through, but he still remained uneasy.

The hospital had put him on IV anxiety medication, but it only seemed to make him feel more on edge and didn't help with his nausea

His brothers were there all the time he was never alone which was nice except for when he had to eat.

Every time food was brought in Floyd couldn't do it, just the thought of it made his stomach twist painfully. The food mostly consisted of soft things like eggs or soup but it looked more like unappealing mush to him

Despite his efforts, his stomach grew more painful each day, and his head throbbed relentlessly.
It seemed his brothers were catching on that morning Floyd had once again used his puppy eyes to steer John Dory off the topic, claiming he was really tired.

This time it was Clay and Branch with him and it did not look like he was fooling them.

“ Come on Floyd” Clay urged on pushing the bowl of stew towards him “ Just take a couple of bites”

 

“ I’m just not hungry right now” he huffed, Whatever medications he was on were making him irritable and moody

Clay did not look convinced “ "Look, Floyd, you need to eat. We're all really worried. The doctors suggested putting you back on the feeding tube since you're not gaining any weight.”

“ I’m fine” Floyd replied defiantly, determined to prove his point, he proceeded to eat the entire bowl, despite feeling like throwing up.

 

Branch was not persuaded "Floyd, it's okay if you can't handle it right now. Don't force yourself."

“ I said I’m fine “ he snapped, he would feel bad later but right now he wanted to be left alone.

But sure enough, his stomach clenched, and Floyd was tasting bitter acid, finally, he choked and Clay shoved a bucket under his mouth to catch the mess of bile and food he was coughing up.

He was dry-heaving cause by now he didn't have anything left in him. A sharp stabbing pain filled his stomach and his vision spun. As he gaged he brought up and slick liquid that tasted metallic.

It was at this point that he noticed that the room had gone quiet, looking up Floyd saw that his brothers looked panicked.

Before he could ask what had happened Clay was shouting “ JOHN YOU NEED TO COME IN HERE NOW!”

Branch rushed over, taking the bucket from his hands and holding it under his chin, now that he was looking into the bucket he could see the bottom was covered in bright red blood

Oh………

that probably wasn't good ( no shit Floyd)

Floyd didn't have a moment to think about it as another stab of pain shot through him and he continued to cough up blood. By now it was dripping down his chin, and his stomach was agonizing.

He heard footsteps coming at a fast pace, John Dory came rushing in and stopped at the sight of his little brother vomiting blood. He turned pale, two shades deeper than his normal blue

Floyd's face was contorted in pain as one hand clutched his stomach as he puked more of the sickly red liquid.

Suddenly there were hands all over him, panicked Floyd weakly tried to push them away, and he landed a good solid kick to Velvet as he heard her yelp in pain.

A mask was pressed against his face, making it difficult to breathe. It felt like he was being suffocated as if there was no air left in the bottle.

“ Floyd!” a voice yelled

Clay stepped into view “It's okay” he said trying to calm him down

The voices faded, and Floyd lost consciousness

 

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As it turned out, the medical staff had not taken Floyd's low body mass into account when dosing his anxiety medication, resulting in a significant overdose.

Naturally, his brothers were furious when they discovered this, and while they received apologies from the doctors, it didn't mean squat because the damage was already done.

The meds had almost burned a hole through his stomach, it didn't help that Floyd’s stomach was beginning to eat itself and shrunk to the size of a pea.

Floyd was running high fevers half of the night and having bouts of nausea that left him dry-heaving for hours.

Any strides in gaining back the weight he had lost in those two months were gone, now Floyd was too scared even to try. To his dismay, the feeding tube had been put back, and he tried to yank it out every time he woke up meaning that he could never be alone.

The high-calorie food being pumped into him filled him with nutrients, but no solid food so he couldn’t gain back body mass

His brothers were at a loss for what to do, they hated seeing him so near death and in pain.

It was Bruce who finally made a break though.

He arrived one late afternoon carrying a container filled with thick orange liquid and poured a small amount into a bowl and placed it in front of Floyd.

Floyd looked at it warily and pushed it away, “ I can't Bruce “ his head throbbing with pain, and his stomach churning with discomfort.

Bruce spoke gently, "I'm not asking you to finish it, just take one bite. If you start feeling sick, we can stop."

Floyd hesitated before picking up the spoon and taking a tentative sip. The soup was not overly sweet or overwhelming, and after so long without eating anything solid, it felt good to have something in his stomach again.

He took another bite, feeling the warmth spread through his body as he savored the taste. Before he knew it, he had finished the entire bowl.

One small victory at a time, Floyd felt a sense of hope that he had not felt in weeks.

 

As Bruce took the bowl away and put the containers back in their place, Floyd closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh.

“Bruce” he mumbled on the brink of unconsciousness

“Hmm?”

"Thanks," he murmured softly as he drifted off into a deep sleep.

Bruce gave him a soft smile “ Anytime little brother”

 

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“Pre-show jitters?” Branch asked walking over to him

“ Nope,” he said smiling

It had been a month since he had been released from the hospital, He was unable to get the feeding tube out of his nose straight away, much to his dismay but over that time he had gained six grams back, an impressive comeback from where he was.

 

Floyd wasn't back to normal, he was still scarred, both physically and emotionally, but he was determined to move forward he didn't think he ever would be back to normal but he was healing, and he was surrounded by the love and support of his brothers once again

 

Floyd couldn't help but smile. He looked out into the crowd, feeling the warmth of their love and support. With his brothers by his side, he knew that no matter what challenges came their way, they would face them together.

Floyd thought his should be recovery a testament to the power of love, family, and the belief that even in the darkest of times, there is always hope.

For something better

We’re all destined for a better place

Notes:

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