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The red fox awoke with a panicked gasp-- she found herself in a hospital bed. She was in a small cozy little room: a birchwood nightstand with flowers on it next to the bed; a ceiling fan keeping the atmosphere pleasantly cool, and a couple of chairs, likely for whoever accompanied patients. To complete the soothing mood of the room, a regular beep echoed in Robin's ears, which she quickly discovered came from a monitor nearby. Judging by the stuff attached to her, it was likely it was tracking her heartbeat.

How... had she ended up here? She couldn't remember anything before she woke up. She was drenched in cold sweat, too. Looking down, she saw she was dressed in one of those fairly typical, light blue hospital gowns. The fox tried to move, but winced at how... uncomfortable that made her feel like. Her body was weak and heavy, which only made her more anxious as to how and why she ended up here. The worst part was her legs, which felt virtually numb.

The creak of a door opening caught her attention. Ears perking up, she turned her head to see a visitor: a small, pink dragon nurse.

"Oh my goodness! You're finally awake!" she gasped, rushing towards the bed so fast she almost dropped the platter she was carrying.

The first obvious detail was her shininess and slickness of her body, as she appeared to be made out of... ooze? Little splats echoing at each step she made only further reinforced that theory. And the drops of visibly sticky goop she left behind, too... The fox quickly shook her head; there were more important things to worry about!

"Who are you? Where am I? What happened?"

Upon hearing the first question, the nurse's smile immediately shifted into a frown. Despite how vibrantly pink her body was, Robin could swear she saw that face pale ever so slightly.

"You... don't remember?"

The red fox gulped. "Remember... what?"

"Oh... Oh, goodness." The dragoness walked up to the bed, putting down the tray on it next to the foxgirl. It was a simple meal; peanut butter & jam sandwich, and a glass of water. "You really don't remember? You had a terrible vasovagal syncope. It came a little bit out of nowhere, and we didn't really find anything wrong with your health. However..."

The nurse paused for a second, looking down to Robin's still blanketed legs with a sad frown.

"It seems you were on a flight of stairs while it happened. Both of your legs were hurt... Your left leg has a couple of broken bones, and both your anterior cruciate ligament and medial collateral ligament in your right knee are severely injured."

Robin felt her heart sink past her stomach. Barely holding back tears, she gripped the bed sheets tightly.

"W... What's going to happen to me?" she asked.

"Oh, oh dear!" The dragoness cooed, pulling the now crying fox into a caring hug. Even if she was a little bit... sticky, her warm touch soothed her ever-so-slightly. "Don't you worry about a thing, cutie. I'm certain you'll be fine. You'll likely have to spend a week or so in bed at least... then we'll think about getting you around in a wheelchair. You might need a few more weeks in crutches but I know you'll be back on those legs in no time!"

As if to affirm her confidence, she gave the fluffy vixen a smooch on the cheek, gently wiping those tears away with her thumb.

"You should eat now; it'll help your body heal faster, okay?"

The fox nodded. With a sniffle, she grabbed the sandwich and took a bite. Her face lit up at the flavor-- sickly sweet, but in a good way, the sugary doughness crashing into her tongue. That had to be the best PB&J she ever had!

"Here, sweetie," said the nurse, handing a little pager to her patient, "Give me a ring anytime you need something. Anything you want ! I'll be right over to take care of you."

Robin nodded; somehow, just chewing on it slowly, with the nurse still petting her, felt reassuring-- like she knew she was going to be just fine.

The fox's first day went... A lot better than she had expected. She still felt a tightness in her chest whenever thinking about her current situation, but she was well taken care of. The nurse behaved true to her word, storming in within minutes of being called-- showing up at an alarming speed. It was worrying for the first few times, but eventually, she just assumed the dragoness had been assigned to her or something. If she couldn't quite move around, she had plenty of entertainment to compensate; TV, games, magazines... Enough distractions to make her at least momentarily forget about her heavily plastered legs.

As a few more days passed, one thing that quickly caught Robin's attention was the food. She wasn't sure if the hospital food cliché had been a lie or if she was incredibly lucky, but every single meal had her bursting with joy. They had started quite simple, but quickly became a lot more substantial, from standard sandwiches and salads and fruit to pancakes, cookies, bacon and eggs, and so much more. One day, while she was eating a particularly juicy baked potato, the nurse walked in the room, pushing a... stretcher?

"Good morning!" she greeted, beaming. "It's time for your weekly weigh-in!"

Robin raised an eyebrow, slowing her chewing. "My... what?"

"Your weekly weigh-in, silly!" The dragoness stopped near the fox's bed with a smile. "Gotta make sure it doesn't change too much during your stay, or hopefully at least make sure you're in good health."

Carefully, she slipped her arms under her patient's upper thighs, lifting her up with surprising strength for her diminutive size. Even such gentle movement caused Robin to wince in pain, but it wasn't too uncomfortable to wait until she had been carefully put down on the stretcher.

"Just need to get you off the bed for a second sweetie"-- she then fiddled with a few buttons on a little console on the wall --"Aaaand there!"

She then put the red fox back on her bed. Robin watched as her nurse looked up at the console's screen; from her angle she couldn't see what it displayed, but the dragoness smiled.

"One hundred and twenty! Good, good. That's quite stable alright. Excellent!"

"So you're going to do this every week?"

The nurse nodded. "Yup! Sorry sweetie; I know it's hard sitting all day in bed. Maybe I can try and get a wheelchair to show you around by next week! Would you like that?"

Robin looked out the window for a moment; the surrounding sights becoming slightly boring was definitely true. Maybe she could also get more of a feel for the place if she got to move around? After a bit of thinking, she nodded. "...Yes, please. That'd be great."

Another week passed in a breeze. Just as promised, Robin was brought out of her room for the very first time on a wheelchair. It felt like rediscovering the world: seeing all those people roam the corridors, staff and patients alike, some hurriedly dragging around medical supplies, others leaning on their crutches to move, a few more chatting... it brought a slight smile to her face. One thing she swiftly noticed, though, was that nearly every single patient was on the... girthier side. While her nurse gave her a tour of most of the place - non-restricted areas at least - she couldn't spot a single person sporting a hospital gown that wasn't AT LEAST a couple dozen pounds heavier than her, give or take.

Her first theory was to think of the food; she definitely couldn't blame all these folks, if they all got to eat as well as her. Especially if they were immobilized in some way like she was. She hoped she wouldn't let herself go too far; even if she wasn't looking to be a pinnacle of fitness, she had always exercised enough to remain at a fairly regular size. Not that she could really do anything about it currently, but only time would tell...

Week after week, Robin was getting weighed in. Week after week, the number shown by the balance grew. One-hundred twenty five. Thirty. Fifty. The longer Robin stayed, the more used she grew to sedentary life. The meals were slowly changing to a more fattening nature, too: take-out, burgers, pizzas, fries, donuts, potato chips; anything and everything was game. After a month of binging, the red fox could already feel the results on her frame: she had most certainly grown larger, her once-flat stomach now showing a non-negligible, soft, grabbable pudge. Thankfully, it was around this time she finally became able to vaguely stand up again - as long as she had crutches - so she could begin physical reeducation. Despite the change in activity, the vixen was still eating just as much, and growing at a steady rate. After three whole months since Robin had woken up in that hospital room, she was nearly double her old size. Simple things such as sitting up, lifting her arms, and generally moving around in any way, had become... noticeably effort-inducing. She was often finding herself out of breath in record times, too, and with all that extra weight to drag around, extra sweaty.

She could keep going like this no longer. One morning, right after receiving breakfast in bed thanks to her nurse, she stopped the dragoness before she left the room:

"Hey, um... I have something to ask."

The pink nurse turned around, a bright smile on her face. "Yes?"

"Well... I think we can both tell I've been... growing. I was kinda wondering, well... I'm afraid I might get unhealthy? Could you help? Maybe at least until I can move sorta properly again?"

"Oh, sweetie!..." Her expression shifted to a frown, before she put the vixen's hand in hers. "I understand. But don't worry! I'll make sure your health is as good as can be! But if you're really that worried, maybe I can see if the docs would accept giving you some medicine that should help with weight loss."

Robin nodded. "Yes, please!"

And just like the wheelchair, the nurse was true to her word. The very day following the vixen's request, she was getting new medicine that - according to what the doctors told her nurse - should help her with her... heft. While she was definitely worried about gaining, something about that happy, bubbly, sparkling dragoness full of so much energy for such a small package, was soothing. Being in her presence, seeing her, hearing her, talking with her and listening to her, feeling her soft, goopy hands caress her fur, just melted her worries away slowly, replacing them with bliss. The fear of being unhealthy faded away with each passing day-- sure, maybe she was getting fatter. But she was so well taken care of! She'd most certainly not get sick. The worst would be becoming unfit, which she could fix once rehabilitation gets a little more intense. And that medicine would likely help, too, even if the injections were not quite pleasant to go through.

More and more time passed. Rehabilitation was excruciatingly slow, especially due to Robin's constantly changing weight. Even past the three hundred pounds mark she kept growing, swelling with added blubber, her features getting fuller, softer, more flabby. While she wasn't too worried, looking down at her frame, seeing the large dome made by her swollen belly under the blanket made her feel a pang of doubt. Before the nurse left after bringing her lunch, Robin stopped her in her tracks yet again:

"Hey... I was wondering... am I going to be okay?"

The dragoness' smile shifted to a worried frown. "What do you mean?... Of course you're going to be okay, love!"

"Well, it's just..." The vixen grabbed her doughy middle, giving it a few shakes and making the two fat rolls clap softly together. "I've gotten so fat. I'm a big, lazy bum. It's still really hard to walk. And I'm so heavy I'm scared I won't be able to stand up."

"Oh... sweetie..."

With a saddened sigh, the dragoness hopped onto the bed, putting a hand on the red fox's belly and the other petting her head.

"It's okay. All your worries are valid. The medicine might not be working as well as it could, but who knows? Without it, you could have ended up even fatter. But fret not; I will do everything in my power to help you. It doesn't matter how fat you get, or if you're 'lazy' or some other nonsense. I told you I would always be there for you, and I will! That's a promise."

"Really...?" sighed Robin with a hopeful smile.

The nurse nodded. "Really." As if on cue, an audible growl echoed from the depths of her patient's gargantuan belly, which caused her to giggle. "Now what say we get a little more food in that tum' of yours?"

Robin's smile widened, and she nodded as well; she was quite hungry after all.

"Hey, *pant* could you please *wheeze* take me to the yard? I think I could _ *huff* _use some fresh air."

The dragoness nodded, bracing herself before giving a mighty push to Robin's wheelchair.

The red fox was but a shadow of her former self now; after half a year spent mostly lying down on a hospital bed and sitting around, she was well over six hundred pounds. She was beyond obese, and her reeducation efforts had been stopped, the poor vixen now hopelessly heavy, her weakened legs unable to bear her gargantuan mass. Even breathing was becoming an effort, her fur constantly damp with sweat from exertion-- lifting her arms was a trial, and any kind of movement caused excessive strain in her atrophied muscles.

It had been a couple weeks since she had been fully dependent on mobility aids. She was no longer going anywhere on her own, her nurse all too glad to get her wheelchair around the place whenever she needed it. She was also feeding her patient whenever she was hungry -- which was a LOT of the time, at least five times a day -- considering anything more than pressing the buttons on a remote or game controller took a little bit too much effort out of her.

Despite her clearly worsening health, though, Robin was nearly constantly "pacified" by her nurse; those reassuring words and coos never left her ears, the goopy dragoness keeping her company at nearly all times. Whenever she ended up throwing a coughing fit or hyperventilating due to the intense pressure of her flabby, massive fat tits on her tortured lungs, she was there to help and keep her calm.

Eventually, it became too hard for her to breathe entirely on her own. She was fitted with oxygen cannulas, which were the most wonderful blessing she could have ever asked for, especially when her nurse stuffed those greasy, chunky burgers down her ravenous maw. Her face tufts were absolutely caked with food stains, but she didn't mind-- if she ever noticed at all. She had grown comfortable now, even as her hospital bed creaked dangerously whenever her wobbling, blubbery mass was on the move. Any kind of shift sent her curves jiggling for minutes on end, for her nurse's delight.

Part of her had completely resigned on losing weight; she was likely too far gone now, despite how the dragoness insisted to keep the injections going. At least, with how wide and thick she was, she barely felt the prick of the needles anymore. Still, she kept putting on more and more weight. She had stopped keeping track at the eight-hundred pounds mark, no longer asking the nurse whatever number she read on the scale. If anything, the weekly weigh-ins had become the biggest hassle of her current life: each time she had to be hoisted up a few inches off the bed via hydraulic lift, so as to be able to use the "Tare" button. One significant upside at least was getting to feel the wonderfully soft texture of the mattress once she was set down, the poor bed fighting for its life under her inhuman weight.

At some point, Robin finally lost the ability to be wheelchaired; no chair in the hospital could possibly withstand her spilling frame, restricting her to the comfort of her bed and nothing else. Movement had become near impossible, even for her arms, her sausage-thick fingers and head the only extremities she could budge. Rolls and rolls of fat cascaded out of her, almost swallowing her in her own obesity-- she could barely see over her tits now, the mountainous grease-bags lifted upwards due to the sheer amount of belly fat she sported. Her stomach shot forward at a distance that was easily twice her height, making her wider than she was taller, and despite how much cellulite affected her buttocks and thighs, no part of her body could ever hope to rivalize her titanic dome of a tummy.

Despite all of this, and how unhealthy she looked, this wasn't a bad life. She was spoiled to heaven and back, getting everything done for her. Having an oxygen mask over her muzzle at all times was a small price to pay in her opinion; she no longer needed to eat or drink, any supplement needed being injected in her blob-sized body via one of the many cannulas attached to her limbs. She spent all day watching TV or being read magazines or books by her nurse. Sometimes, she thought about the first day she had woken up in this room; it felt like so long ago, now. She didn't even remember anything about her life before either, for some reason, but it no longer mattered. She couldn't go back to whatever her old life had been. So she might as well enjoy this one.