A/N: trigger warning for pet sadness.

flameysaur said: Diagnosed with terminal illness au. (I want you to suffer.)

fine. take away my fluff, you wretch. 400 word drabble courtesy of tumblr numbered AU prompt post. Embrace ALL the tropes!

"Ben Solo?" A young woman in scrubs comes forward, giving Ben a gentle smile. She holds out her hand; he doesn't take it, and after a moment, her smile fades uncertainly. "I'm Rey," she says, lowering her arm. "I'm the vet tech."

"Good for you," he says, turning back to his phone. He's already late to work; Hux has been blowing up his texts for twenty minutes. "When will Poe be ready to go?"

"I'm afraid it's going to be a little while yet."

He snorts. "How long can a few tests possibly take?"

"We're required to–"

"This is absurd. Do you people charge by the hour?"

"Your friend's dog is dying, Mr. Solo."

Ben stops. He looks up. "Don't be ridiculous," he says calmly. "That dumb corgi is indestructible. I should know, I have to live with the little nightmare."

Any compassion in the vet tech's face is long gone. "Bee-Bee has kidney cancer. Inoperable. It'll be a few weeks at most."

"Bullshit. He was fine three days ago."

"Animals are very skilled at hiding when they're sick."

"Not this one. He whines and yaps and complains about everything. Obviously he needs a better clinic."

If anything, her expression hardens further. "You're welcome to try another location," she snaps. "But it would only cause both Bee-Bee and your friend more distress."

"Poe's my roommate, not my friend."

"Fine. Your roommate is in Room Three, sobbing his heart out. I just came to make sure someone could drive him and Bee-Bee home. But if you can't manage not be a complete monster about it, I'll order him an Uber and pay for it myself."

Ben presses his lips together. "No," he manages through gritted teeth. "If he can't drive–"

"He can't, not like this."

"–then I'll do it." He pulls his phone back out and opens a new browser window. Local veterinary office. Dog kidney cancer. "And I'll find someone who'll treat that worthless mutt, since you people are too incompetent to do so."

A minute passes.

Then a soft hand blocks the view of the search results. For some stupid reason, Rey's giving him a tissue. "A few weeks," she says, gentle again. "Will we see you then?"

"It won't be necessary," he insists.

Another minute. A second tissue. A warm touch to his shoulder.

Ben shoots a quick text to Hux, taking the rest of the day off.

A/N: THIS WAS NOT MY FAULT BLAME FLAMEYSAUR