I started writing this as a second entry for Furtual Horizons. The original story arc I had in mind fell apart long before I came close to completing it though, so I poured my focus into polishing Tech Flesh.
I’m really happy with the setting and characters so far though and would really like to find the drive to complete it. Reading the guidelines for The Furry Future seemed perfect, but I’m worried about two things. 1) It’s not furry enough. 2) I can’t figure out a direction for the arc x.x
Update: Posting my latest updates. Mind you, this is beyond a rough draft and headed straight into Dog territory (rough draft of a rough draft, get it? Rough rough? #Dwaleleveljoke), so please be kind.
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It’s so easy to take the most precious things in life for granted: freedom, the right to choose, the safety and comfort of family, knowing who you are and what you’re capable of. These things are your place in the world. Even if your place is just a nine-to-five paper pusher whose highlight of the week is taking your kids to the park, it’s still your own little niche. I took it all for granted. By the time I realized how much I missed all of the small mundane things… especially the small things, it was all over. The worst part? Remembering without remembering. The memories feel so distant. How to explain it? I can recall remembering those events far more vividly than I do actually living them.
My first memory that actually feels like it’s mine is waking up feeling cold, and blind. My brain didn’t feel muddled exactly, but I felt disoriented, confused. I was upright against a cold hard surface, and when I reached out to feel around me, there was nothing else except that same cold hard surface. It surrounded me, with only a few inches of space to spare. It wasn’t perfectly fitted to my body though, and there were corners just above me and at my feet, with a flat ‘floor’ and flat ‘ceiling’. It took a moment, but it finally dawned on me that I must be in some sort of box.
I took a few deep breaths, struggling against the claustrophobia that threatened to choke me. I felt around the flat wall in front of me as much as the minimal space would allow. There had to be a door, a lock, a loose panel, something, Anything! But only the same cold hard surface, smooth and seamless, met the touch of my fingers. Panic settled hard and hot in the pit of my stomach and clenched down hard before coursing through my veins with a surge of adrenaline. I had to get out… there had to be some way out! I began banging on the metal in front of me as hard as I could, my breath short and ragged. I somehow managed to focus enough air into my lungs to shout out, “Somebody help me! Let me out!”
A loud bang echoed just above me, and I tilted my head back to see a small panel slide open. A bright beam of white light pierced through the darkness, sending a sharp shooting pain through my skull as I squinted against it. It was the most beautiful pain I had ever experienced. I wasn’t blind. Light meant the wall was open and I was Free. I welcomed that pain almost joyfully, but far too soon the light was diminished by a shadow passing before the light. In the shadow was a pair of cold blue eyes that glared in at me. A grating voice exclaimed, “The hell? Charlie, it’s awake!”
“Please,” I asked in a hoarse voice, “where am I? Why am I in he-“
“Go To Sleep,” the voice snapped back.
My mouth closed mid-word. I struggled to push the air out of my lungs, to force my lips to form into the shapes I needed, but all that came out was muted dribble. The panel slid back into place, cutting me off once more from the outside world and with that, my freedom was gone once more. I tried to raise my hands to bang on the box, but my muscles felt heavy, so very heavy. Even the mere act of keeping my eyelids from drooping was as unimaginable for me as flying away. It was as if I was a sponge and someone had wrung all of my energy away. I tried to fight it. Struggling, silently raging, yet I found myself completely and totally drained. Then soon I fell into a light slumber.
“Wake up.”
It was a warm feminine voice that greeted me this time, soft and soothing to my ears. I was finally able to pry my eyelids open, and white light forced me to squint before my eyes managed to adjust. A woman’s face, as warm and soft as the voice had been, smiled down at me. Light feathered lines framed large brown eyes and a pink-tinged smile, hinting at age without taking away from her sumptuous appearance. Soft honeyed locks framed her heart-shaped face, adding to the ethereal visage of- I could only assume- my savior. She didn’t smell of the manufactured flowers that most perfumes were guilty of, instead keeping to a light and warm shea butter and honey that was delightful to the nose, only adding to the overall joy of her very presence. Oddly enough, despite all her beauty, there was something that felt… off about her. Not quite right. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but the thought was soon dispersed as that warm voice met my ears once more.
“Hello there sleepy head. Welcome home.”
“Home?” I croaked, trying to orient where I was.
I reached to my sides and felt open air. I finally tore my eyes away from the captivating pulchritude before me and looked around at my surroundings. So many white surfaces, and gadgets and gizmos and expensive looking furniture, and was that a floor-to-ceiling wall-to-wall television? A part of me wanted to investigate this further, but there were other things weighing far heavier in my mind. I was no longer in my metal prison, so my first priority was to see exactly what had kept me trapped.
I began to turn around and found it behind me, one full wall gone to reveal the insides. It was as I had assumed; a simple metal box, though I hadn’t expected the shipping labels that were plastered all over it ranging from Albuquerque to Yonkers to… where was Green Mesa located? It sounded like something in a desert somewhere. I turned back around, looking at the woman with a questioning tilt of my head. Her smile grew, and she reached to touch my arm as she answered, “You’ve come a long way, but I truly think you were worth it.”
A glance down at her slender hand with short yet polished fingernails, and I suddenly realized what had thrown me off before. Her skin was bare and fair, with a light dusting of fine hair on her arms, as you’d expect with a normal human. My arm, however, was covered in short brown fur splotched with black. My hands and digits were humanoid, though covered in the same short fur, with nails that were a bit thicker and sharper than a human’s. I felt along my own body; my arms, my chest, my face, my… muzzle? I finally looked around for a mirror and decided one of the many flat reflective surfaces that seemed to make up the room.
Sure enough, my body wasn’t the typical make-up of a human, but something that seemed crossed between a human and a lupine of indeterminate breed. I seemed to have the skeletal structure to stand upright, yet my face was formed with a blunt lupine muzzle and a black cold nose. Even my ears were located far too high on my head, and flopped a bit at the ends. I stuck my tongue out, or rather let it loll out, and sure as sure it was the wide flat tongue of a typical lupine. My body was covered in black, brown, and tanned fur. Well, almost covered. I pulled out the waist band of the silk black shorts that allowed me to be decent and confirmed with one downward glance. Yep, all 4’9 of me was fully and completely covered in fur that was surprisingly soft despite being so short. I glanced behind me and couldn’t help but to wonder how I hadn’t noticed the long shaggy tail attached to what I had thought was the end of my tailbone. I looked up at the woman, who was walking toward me with a smile that could melt the hardest of hearts. I wanted to say something dashing and poetic and charming, something that would really sweep her off her feet.
“I’m a dog.”
Well, that wasn’t exactly what my fumbling mind had expected. It seemed my confusion had won out over my wants this time, and for a moment I was mentally kicking myself and wondering if I could have sounded any dumber. My ears perked though at the sound of the warm laughter that echoed through the room, and a smile tugged on the corners of my muzzle. My cheeks were flushed from the embarrassing statement, yet what should have been humiliation turned into warmth. Her laughter wasn’t mocking, but in a strange way almost had an air of awe to it. I knew right then I’d give my right up to hear that laughter again. She leaned down and left a feather-light kiss on the end of my nose before looking me in the eyes.
“You’re more than a dog Liam. So, so much more.” Liam? Was that my name? It didn’t feel right though, but then, what would it have been? What did I really remember before waking up in that damnable metal box? I tried to mentally grope for memories beyond the darkness in my mind, but they seemed blocked off from me, like trying to remember a long-forgotten friend from grade school. A bit of a headache began to creep up the base of my skull, so I finally stopped my search with a small shake of my head.
I was about to ask the woman a small avalanche of questions when she reached up and lightly scratched between my ears. Before I knew what I was doing, a soft murring sound rumbled through my chest as I leaned into the delicious tickling sensations her nails sent through my pate. It was like getting the best scalp massage imaginable and multiplying it by ten, if not more. Just as my eyes began to close, she withdrew her hand and I nearly fell over, my eyes snapping back open as my arms windmilled a bit before I regained my balance. Her eyes sparkled with silent laughter as her hand then moved to scratch directly behind one ear, and I swear I could have died of pure bliss. A small whimper escaped my lips as I leaned into it, and my left leg began to wildly twitch.
“At least it seems your tactile sensory is doing better than good, as is your inquisitiveness, hearing and eye sight. I think it’s time you met Jimmy.”
My mind didn’t bother trying to register her words right then; all that mattered was those dull fingernails hitting just that right spot. Once more her hand withdrew, though this time I went right onto my side and rolled onto my back, exposing my belly and practically begging for her to scratch it with a wagging of my tail so fierce it made my entire lower body wriggle. She let out a delightful little laugh and shook her head, leaning down with her hands on her knees. “You’re too adorable for words. Jimmy’s going to be thrilled to meet you.”
I rolled onto my stomach with a small and questioning woof as she straightened and walked to a flight of white carpeted stairs that disappeared around a corner. It seemed to be only then that I came back to my senses. It was like waking from a daydream or a light afternoon nap on a lazy summer day. It even left me with a pleasant feeling deep inside, which seemed odd when mixed with a bit of a disturbed eeriness at being so easily lulled. With a sharp shake of my head, I quickly scrambled to my feet and brushed off my chest and shorts.
What in the world had come over me? More importantly, what was it about this woman that captivated me so? Yes, she saved me, and yes, I was grateful. More than grateful. Yet it seemed to transcend beyond that. Even when I first laid eyes on her, a million and one analogies for ‘angelic savior’ kept coming to my mind. It was as if she could do no wrong, and I would be safe and happy as long as she was safe and happy. The thought hadn't bothered to surface in my mind that she could have been the whole reason why I was in that damned box.
I cast an eye over my old prison, and my thoughts faltered. What was it she had said to me earlier? That I had come a long way, but she thought I was worth it? What the hell did she do, put an order in for me like I was some stuffed animal or computer? Was I just having a twisted case of Stockholm Syndrome? Was that even possible with so little time having gone by? I walked closer to the box, timidly, my nerves on end. What happened to my memories? Certainly I had to be born, to have a mother and father. I knew how to walk and talk. I knew Yonkers was a city in New York and Albuquerque some place in Canada and I understood the concept of clothes. Yet I had lupine instincts and seemed to have had no life before the box. Why?
I examined the metallic surface, running my hand over it slowly, trying to find some clue to my innumerable questions. Nothing seemed to even whisper any answers except that the first shipping label seemed to have come from Green Mesa, one of the few places I didn’t recognize. Well where in the world was that? It seemed the box was going to provide about as many answers outside as it had when I was inside of it, so I finally abandoned it for a comfortable looking white leather couch that was in the center of the room.
Another idea had come to mind, though all my senses argued heavily against it. I looked down at my own hands, opening and closing them before inspecting the palms. The flesh there was one of the few places where fur didn’t grow. I pressed down on one palm, and noted the sensitivity there despite the thickness of the skin. My best guess was that it was the equivalent of paw pads. I moved one thick nail to the center of my palm and dug in. A small yelp threatened to jump up my throat, yet I bit back on it as I continued to dig until a spot of blood appeared. Well, there went that theory. What robot did anyone know could bleed, no matter how realistic the sensations were? I shook my head at my own ridiculous thoughts and rubbed at the small injury as I started to look around the place.
I had only gotten as far as the surround sound speakers that were built into the clean white walls of the room when I heard faint footsteps on the stairs and caught a whiff of the woman’s lavender scent in the air. Despite my disquietude just moments ago, I felt a swell of excitement and my tail began wagging a mile a minute. I turned to greet the woman with a warm smile and a heap of questions, but instead I was greeted by what looked to be a frail five-year-old boy fumbling his way down the stairs, the woman walking slowly behind him. He didn’t look to be much more than a skeleton wrapped in pale skin, though what I found strangest was that his eyes were colorless and he seemed to be looking everywhere except for where he was going. Either the poor kid had mental problems or was as blind as a bat.
“Liam, this is my son Jimmy. You’re to be his seeing eye dog from now on, as well as his protector. Jimmy, this is your new guard dog, Liam.”
Well, that explained that. I began to mentally kick myself for being so insensitive to the boy’s condition, even if I hadn’t voiced my opinions out loud. Jimmy grinned as he moved over, and I gave him a bit of audio guidance with a “It’s nice to meet you Jimmy.” The boy paused mid-step and frowned.
“I didn’t want a dog like this. I wanted a real doggy!”
The woman couldn’t quite stop herself from wincing as if she had been slapped and said, “Sweetie, I know, but real dogs can't hold a conversation, or measure out the correct dose for your medicine. Liam here will understand your words far better than a real dog, and he can hold a conversation with you when you're lonely, and carry you when you’re too weak to walk, and make sure you get your medicine and exercise while I’m at work or you’re at your father’s. He could truly be your best friend, if you let him.”
Jimmy hesitated, but finally moved forward with his arms outstretched. I reached out and slowly guided one of his hands to my face, leaning down a bit so he could reach it and ‘see’ through touch. He took his time, his fingers agile yet gentle as they moved over my muzzle, my eyes, my ears, his other hand seeking and finding my chest and shoulders. I let him have at, even murring a bit when he moved a hand between my ears and began to scratch. It wasn’t the all-encompassing bliss of the woman’s scratches, but it still felt good and the sound seemed to encourage him. He even cracked a small smile and moved both hands up for double the pleasure. I leaned into it with a small woof before nuzzling his cheek, and he giggled and reached for a hug. I wrapped both my arms around him and picked him up with ease; he was as light as a feather.
“You’re right Mommy! He’s even better than a real doggy!”
The woman laughed softly, rocking on the balls of her feet a bit as she watched with such warmth. I could feel the warmth spread through my own body as I witnessed how easily Jimmy’s opinion of me could be swayed. He toyed with my ears a bit before resting his cheek on my shoulder. It was one of those endearing moments that you just want to savor for as long as they last, but always seemed to be cut short way too soon.
This time it was an old tune straight out of the sixties jingling from the woman’s pocket. Odd to hear ‘Paint it Black’ in such a white room. Her eyes widened slightly and she pressed her lips together as she left the room. Jimmy tensed in my arms and let out a small whimper. “Who’s that,” I whispered to his ear. He clung to me a little tighter and whispered back, “Dad. Probably calling because he can’t pick me up again. He always calls because he can’t pick me up.” I rocked him a bit as I lightly nosed his cheek. I strained my ears to try to pick up on if Jimmy was right, but the woman seemed to have a naturally quiet voice.
She came back into the room a few minutes later with flushed cheeks and rubbed Jimmy’s back. A strange caustic smell mingled with her lavender and her face held strain that echoed through the forced joy in her voice. “I have great news sweetie. Your dad said he’s not going to be able to spend next weekend with you, but he can pick you up tonight and spend all day tomorrow and the next with you. How does that sound?”
I could practically feel Jimmy struggle to keep his hopes from getting up too high as his head rose and his fingers curled into the fur on my shoulders. “Do-- do you really think he’s gonna come Mommy?”
The woman's forced smile grew as she nodded and she ran her fingers through his sandy-colored hair. “He’s already on his way baby.”
Jimmy grinned and wriggled in my arms, signaling for me to let him down. “I’ll go start gettin’ ready! Please please please don’t let ‘im leave without me! I promise I’ll be quick this time! Liam, let me down at the base of the stairs please!”
I glanced up at the woman, who nodded as she added, “Don’t go too fast Jimmy. I’ll make sure he doesn’t leave without you.”
I walked the boy over to the staircase. As soon as his feet hit the ground, Jimmy quickly moved his hands to the railing and guided himself upward with far more ease than he had descended. I watched him climb up, and peered up at the spiral staircase. From down where I was, it almost looked like one of those Phi Spiral things they teach you in advanced math, where the stairs were wide and flared at the bottom but became narrower as they spiraled upward.
“Liam, there are some things you need to know before he gets here.”
I tore myself away from my inward musings and trudged back over to the woman. She was sitting on the edge of the couch with a black messenger bag in her lap. In front of her, the glass coffee table had been pushed a bit to the side to make way for a hassock I hadn't noticed before. I drew in a deep breath and took the offered seat, her words lingering ominously in my ears. I tried to fold my arms across my chest, but my limbs didn't seem familiar with the human motion. I let them drop to my side and looked up at the woman with a small tilt of the head. I was mindful to keep my voice low when I asked, “So what's the problem with his dad?”
The woman sighed and shook her head a bit. She flipped the bag open as she answered in a voice even quieter than mine, “Paul's obsessed with his work. Losing his job at the police station was a breaking point for him though. Suddenly there were conspiracies all around him. He claimed that Internal Affairs had been compromised, and that no one could be trusted. It was like something had been jarred loose,” she tapped her temple before continuing, “yet he jumped head first into the private eye business. It gets worse though.” She pulled out a small glass bottle and handed it to me.
“This was prescribed to Jimmy a couple of months ago to help with some of the side effects his other medicines can cause. It can make his joints ache and his head spin a bit, sometimes make him itchy, but at least it allows him to keep down his food and to get some sleep. For whatever reason though, Paul's gotten it in his head that it's poisonous, and has refused to give it to Jimmy during his visits. By the time I get my son back, he's half-starved and trembling from exhaustion. He can't keep going through this.”
I looked down at the amber bottle and rolled it around in my hand, thumbing the soft rubber of the dropper on top. “Have you told the courts? Maybe try for full custody?”
The woman's frown deepened as she shook her head. “Not yet. He's not the most responsible man, and at times I worry he might be suffering from delusions. Jimmy loves him so much though, and so far Paul hasn't been a threat to him in any other way. I don't want to strip the visits from them if I don't have to. It's my hope that if you are administering the medicine, then maybe Jimmy can keep his father and his health. It's just three drops under the tongue, twice a day.”
I nodded slowly and tucked the bottle into a side-pocket of my silk shorts. “What about the rest of his medication? Anything else I can help with?”
For the first time since she had spoken with Paul, an honest smile tugged on the woman's lips. The poor kid seemed to have a pharmacy all to himself. She pulled out sixteen different bottles, explaining how much and how often to give each one and for what reason. They all ranged in purpose from relief of headaches to calming breathing problems to soothing pains of various sorts. There were medicines to help him sleep, medicines to help him stay awake, medicines to help him concentrate, and of course medicines to help counteract side effects to the medicines he was already taking. My head was spinning by the time she finished explaining them all to me. I looked up from the rows of bottles set on the table beside me and I croaked, “Am I supposed to remember all this?”
She chuckled softly and pulled one last item from the bag to hand to me. I unfolded the slip of paper and slumped in relief at the words that mirrored her instructions. If I hadn't been sitting, I would have fallen anyway as the realization struck me. The words on the paper made sense to me. I could read. Some medicine was taken once every other waking hour, others once a day, others only as needed. I looked up at the woman and asked, “May I keep this?”
“It's what I made it for.”
I nodded and slipped it into the same pocket as the small hidden bottle. It was good to know I had a cheat sheet I could actually understand. I glanced over at the empty staircase before looking back to the woman, my tail wagging hesitantly as I realized that now was my chance. “So how is it I can read? Talk? Understand? Where do I come from? Do I have a family? Parents of my own? How did you get me? Why can't I remember anything from before being in the box? Did I have a life before this? Who--”
“Easy there Liam.” She began packing the bottles back into the bag with practiced ease. “You are a wonderful creation that crossed canid genetics with human DNA. No family or even parents, unless you wish to include those the genes were taken from. I don't know all the technicalities or science behind it, but they were able to implant certain knowledge into your mind and essentially raised you in stasis until you reached an age that would be optimal for being a responsible companion, be it for the disabled or the lonely.”
“So I'm a test tube baby?”
The woman's eyes flicked up to me before she let out a small sigh. “It doesn't hold the negative connotations it used to.” She flipped the cover back onto the messenger bag and leaned forward, resting her forearms over the top. “Think of it like this. You may not have been brought into this world with a family, but that doesn't mean we can't be your family?”
Oddly, even with the hopeful smile that touched her lips, the idea still didn't sit right with me. I looked down at my fur-covered hands and ran my tongue over the sharp canines that threatened to poke past my lips. This was all me, all my body. So why did it still feel like I was wearing someone else's skin- er, fur? I hadn't given it much thought before, but walking felt awkward to me. Even sitting upright felt like my body wasn't entirely made for it. I shook my head as if trying to shake off a cloud of gnats. Of course it felt strange. This was what happened when you crossed two creatures that were never meant to be combined.
My tongue darted out, wide and flat and long, and I jerked my head slightly when I realized I tasted my own nose. I was going to have to be mindful of that in the future. My ears perked as the sound of an old chime that tugged and played on the outskirts of my memory. What was it called? Westminster. The clear tones rang through the house, and with it brought an odd acrid stench.
I sniffed at the air, closing my eyes partway as I tried to focus on what the source could be. It wasn't until the woman rose from the couch and walked out of the room that I realized it was emanating from her. I began to follow her, yet before I could leave the room, she glanced over her shoulder and furrowed her brow.
“It's Jimmy's father. He doesn't yet know of you, so I think it might be best if you wait in the other room until I... prepared him for you.”
A small part whimper, part growl escaped from my muzzle before I could stop it, and I winced at the honest emotion it echoed. The woman smiled softly though, and reached out to scratch behind my ear. I learned then that when a sour emotion plagued me, the effects weren't nearly as strong. Yes, I still felt the same comfort as before, yet it didn't take my thoughts off of how much I didn't like this situation. The woman sighed and pointed in a direction through the living room and to a short hallway that was opposite the staircase. “Wait for me to call for you. I promise it won't take long.”
I nodded grudgingly and shuffled through the room, shoulders slumped and ears flat against my head. There wasn't any point in arguing. I glanced at the various gadgets, silently noting that the evening news had clicked on automatically at some point. I was half-tempted to linger and maybe learn a thing or two of the current state of affairs in the world. It would make a good excuse to keep an eye of things from the living room. The woman gave a sharp command though and the wall-to-wall screen turned off with a barely-there shuffing noise.
I sighed as my excuse for lingering was stripped away, and continued on beneath the arched entrance into the hallway. It looked like this one led into a dining room with a table of white polished wood large enough to sit sixteen. I glanced back across the living room to the woman, and she shooed me further. I turned to my left and pressed my back against the wall right next to the entrance of the hallway. If I couldn't keep watch on what was going on, I could at least keep an ear open.
I figured my ears could at least pick up on the conversation between the two, but I didn't know they were sensitive enough to pick up on the soft beeping of an alarm being disarmed or the harsh clicking of locks turning with the door. There was a very curt greeting, and I heard the woman's voice grow a bit louder as she led her ex into the living room. There was a soft shuffling sound mixed with some gentle clicking that had to be the medicine being replaced within the bag.
They spoke short words on Jimmy's health, diet, exercise and schooling with the woman doing most of the talking. I finally had a name for the woman. Angela... my sweet angelic Angela. Even with her harsh edges, I found myself momentarily distracted by thoughts of when I first laid eyes upon her lovely face. I shook my head and peered around the corner with one hand against the wall, determined to keep my focus. I hadn't expected the patch of thinning hair on the back of the older man's head, but at least he wasn't looking my way.
I leaned forward a bit and closed my eyes, reaching into the shadowed depths of my memory as far as I could. What could that caustic smell be, and what did it have to do with the woman? It was familiar somehow, from some long-forgotten time and place. If I could just hone my focus sharp enough, if I could just find some way to pierce through the fog that clouded my mind, maybe I'd have my answer. A small cry tore me from my thoughts, such a sharp contrast from the harsh and steely tones of both parents, and my eyes blinked open to focus on Jimmy as he made his careful way down the stairs.
“Daddy, you're still here!”
My eyes darted from Jimmy to Paul, who wasn't quite able to hide the pain on his face. He glanced at Angela before moving swiftly to the staircase. “Hey kiddo. Look, I'm sorry about last time. I got a call and had to--”
“It's okay Daddy. You came back. You're here now. That's what's most important.”
Tears filled Paul's eyes, yet he quickly blinked them away as he plucked his son from the staircase as easily as a doll. It wasn't at all what I'd expect from the deadbeat Angela described. It wasn't like Jimmy could see the pain, and the tears were banished as soon as they showed instead of being allowed to spill onto the sun-worn cheeks. Yet the emotion had been there, clear as day, for all and none to see despite being quickly erased. I began to chew on my bottom lip as I mulled this over, only to be reminded by a stab of sharp pain that it might not be the best idea with these teeth.
The small yelp instantly grabbed Paul's attention, and he spun around with his son his his arms before I could duck back out of sight. “What the-”
“Oh, that's Liam! Isn't it great Daddy?”
Paul frowned and shot a death glare at Angela, but one large hand caressed Jimmy's head as he answered in a carefully gentle tone, “Yeah, that's great. Did your mother get you that?”
“Yep! He's even better than a real doggy, isn't he?”
Another death glare to Angela as Paul gritted his teeth, but he kept the same gentle tone as he answered, “Sure is.”
Jimmy squirmed, and Paul let him down to the ground as I walked up with lowered ears. Jimmy slapped the front of his thighs and called, “C'mere boy! It's okay, I told Daddy about you!”
I padded over to him, never taking my eyes off of Paul, and gently nosed Jimmy's shoulder. “I'm here kiddo.”
Jimmy wrapped his arms around me and giggled. “You're coming too, right Liam? To Daddy's place?”
I shifted on my feet and glanced between Angela, who was nodding in agreement, and Paul, who looked like he was about ready to tear me limb from limb. “Last I heard, that was the plan.”
Yep, definitely felt like I was signing my own death certificate with that. Paul's lips parted, but Angela reached to grab his arm, her eyes turning to Jimmy. Paul took a deep breath that didn't seem to do much in the ways of calming him and gave a sharp nod. A strange burned scent was practically radiating from him that I hadn't noticed before. It was something that had been in the background since he first arrived, and only now seemed to reach its pique. It was then that it hit me like a sack of bricks. I was smelling emotions. I blinked at the thought, only to find that Paul had already grabbed Jimmy's bag and was heading for the front door.
“Alright, let's get going. The sooner we're out of here, the more time we can spend together.”
Jimmy hugged his mother goodbye and wished her a goodnight, and she kissed his cheek before guiding him back to my arm. He tugged on it excitedly, and I found myself walking him toward the door. It turned out the kid was quick when he didn't have to worry about having to remember where every little thing was located. I glanced back at Angela as we left the living room, and she quickly slipped the medicine bag over my shoulder. She gave me a look that seemed to ask, 'See?' and I frowned up at her before following Paul out the door. I couldn't keep from feeling some trepidation as we stepped into the cool night air, and the soft click of the locks within the door ensured there was no going back now.
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[Visit with Paul, first of the dreams.]
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[Confronts Angela about dreams, who gives her explanation and takes the collar. Dreams linger, cling, but fade in vividness.]
[Goes to doctor appointment with Jimmy and meets the other anthro who points out they're not like the others, and some of the stories she's heard (but where to place this part???) A few other anthros in waiting room, for contrast. Could drop breadcrumb about convo overheard between doctor and Angela, maybe about perscription.]
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The next three weeks fell into an easy routine. It was clear to see that I had a few jobs I was juggling within Angela's household. I became a companion, caretaker, protector, teacher, motivator, even a teddy bear of sorts. I made certain Jimmy received his medication every morning, afternoon, evening, and night. I made sure he ate his meals, which were all pre-made and prepackaged by his mom. I encouraged him during his physical therapy and was there to catch him every time he stumbled or fell. At night, after giving him his medication for pain and sleep, he would snuggle up to me and chat with me about various things. One night's conversation stuck with me though, about two weeks into the routine of things.
He had been having a particularly difficult time going to sleep, restless despite the liquid medication I had made certain he had taken. He snuggled up close to my side though, and pulled the blankets over our heads as he normally did when he wanted to tell me things that he didn't want his mom to hear. I wrapped my arms around him, and he nuzzled into my chest and took a moment to listen to the beating of my heart. My fingers slipped through his hair as his breathing began to turn rhythmic, yet just as I thought he had fallen to sleep, his head tilted back and faint blue eyes peered up at me as if they could actually make out my features. His voice was a quiet whisper that even my sensitive ears had to strain to pick up on.
“Do you know what I want to be when I grow up?”
He reached a small hand up to my muzzle to feel the smile tug on the corners of my lips. It was something he spoke of with his mother often, so I was fairly confident I knew the answer. “You want to be a doctor, so no other little boy or girl has to get sick.”
To my surprise, he shook his head with a small frown, his hand lingering on my muzzle as my smile faltered with uncertainty. He drew in a deep breath and whispered, “I want to be a superhero. Not like in the audio books, but like an honest to goodness super hero.”
I tilted my head slightly, curious now where this was going. “Okay,” I asked, “so what's an honest to goodness super hero?”
“It's someone who can protect the inside and outside of a person.
“It's like, doctors and nurses and stuff like my mom are regular heroes because they protect the inside of a person. They fight off all the bad stuff that can attack a person from the inside and find cures and ways to make pain go away, even if they have to stay up all day and night to find them. They even find stuff to help with the side effects of the stuff that's supposed to help you, and can help you think and sleep and wake up in the morning. Some people don't like it when their kids have to take all types of medicine, but they make sure that those kids do, and that those kids are going to be okay.
“Firefighters and police officers and stuff like my dad are regular heroes too. They keep a person safe from outside bad stuff like fires and bad guys and avalanches and stuff. They're even willing to lose their jobs and families and stuff if that's what it takes to keep bad guys from hurting you.”
I felt myself jerk slightly, making Jimmy stop in his explanation with a small frown. I forced my muzzle into a small smile and shook my head at myself. “Sorry. I was just wondering, is that what happened to your dad?”
Jimmy swallowed hard and tilted his head down before burying it into my chest, his hand dropping to curl his fingers into the fur on my arm. I began moving my fingers through his hair again, fearing my reaction had pushed him away from opening up to me. A child's trust is a precious thing, easily gained yet easily lost. He drew in a deep breath though and moved his hand to my muzzle, his head tilting up for his blind eyes to 'peer' at me.
“Daddy lost his job because he was protecting me from outside stuff. He and Mommy used to work late a lot, so Uncle Calvin babysitted me sometimes. It was great the first couple of months. I'd play with Nancy and Drew, my cousins, and they were really nice to me. After awhile though my cousins didn't visit anymore, and it was just me and Uncle Calvin. That was when... he hurt me some nights.
“He would get frustrated with me, because I'd be slow or I'd need help with something, and he'd hurt me. I told Daddy because everyone said he protects people from outside stuff, and bad guys, and I didn't want to think of Uncle Calvin as a bad guy, because he's family, but what he was doing... it really hurt, and he wouldn't stop when I apologized or begged him to stop or even when I started to cry and he kept getting meaner and meaner with it and I tried to be a better nephew but it was like no matter what I said or did or how hard I tried he'd find a reason to hurt me more and more and I just wanted him to stop.”
I hadn't realized I was trembling until Jimmy stopped to spill his tears into the fur on my chest. I swallowed hard on the bile that was building in the back of my throat and closed my eyes, breathing deep of the peppermint and vanilla and medicine that seeped from the very fibers of his hair. He was just a boy. Just a small, sick little boy. How could anyone- especially family, the very people who should protect him the most, ever harm him? I wrapped my arms more fully around his trembling body, wanting to keep him safe from any and all dangers in this wretched world he lived in.
When his tears finally ran dry and his shaking stilled, he tilted his head up for a third time that night and sniffled. “Daddy made some phone calls, and Mommy and he got into really bad word fights. She thought he was telling me to say those things because of some illegal stuff Uncle Calvin did before I was even born. I told her that Daddy didn't even know about it until I told him, but I don't think she ever believed me. She asked why I didn't go to her first, and I told her it was because she protects my insides while Daddy protects my outsides, but I don't think she really understood what I was trying to say. There were doctors that looked at me, and I had to talk to a bunch of people about what had happened.”
Jimmy began to tremble again, but the tears didn't come this time. He took a deep breath and kept talking in a hushed voice. “I hated talking about it, because it meant that I had to talk about what I did that made Uncle Calvin think I deserved being hurt. Daddy and Mommy both said that none of it was my fault though.”
He curled his fingers into my fur again and his voice became stronger, almost defiant. “They both said it. Do you know what that means? For them to agree? So if they both said it, it has to be true, right? Even though Mommy said that it was Daddy saying stuff to me at first, she still didn't get angry at me, and every single time I had to talk about it and Daddy wasn't there, she held me, and kept telling me none of it was my fault. And every time Daddy was outside of the room waiting for me after I had to say it again, he'd hold me too, and tell me none of it was my fault. That Uncle Calvin was the one who was wrong.”
His bottom lip began to quiver, and I gently nosed his temple. “They're right, y'know. None of it was your fault. Family should never, ever harm family. You did the right thing telling your dad.”
“Did I?”
The question was a whisper that nearly failed to leave his lips. I looked down at him, unable to hide the shock from my face and grateful for once that he couldn't see my expression. I was careful to keep my voice quiet and gentle though as I asked, “Jimmy, kiddo, why would you even ask that? Of course you did. That man needed to be stopped, and he might never have if you didn't say anything.”
“But... even with seeing the doctors and talking to all the people I did, even with all the times I had to replay it over and over and over again in my head with every time I told them to make sure I got every single detail I could, Daddy still wasn't able to get Uncle Calvin into prison. He was able to keep him away from me, but Uncle Calvin could still hurt my cousins, and that wasn't okay. A hero doesn't stop just to save one person that he loves, but to save all the people.
“I don't know what Daddy did when he left one night, but a week later he lost his job, and Mommy was angry with him all over again. This was worse than their usual word fights though. She wouldn't even speak to him. I asked Daddy about my cousins, and he promised me that they were going to be safe now, but it might be a long time before they can visit again. I was okay with that. I miss them, and they still haven't visited since all that happened. If that's what it takes for them to be safe though, I can wait.
“Daddy had to move out a couple of months later though. Mommy hasn't gotten along with him ever since.” Jimmy wiped the tears from his eyes and sniffled. “It's why I want to be a super hero. I want to protect people from outside bad stuff and inside bad stuff. Then I'd never have to fight with myself, because I'd know what I needed to do to keep people I love safe. Even Mommy and Daddy. And no other kid ever has to be hurt, or have their parents divorced, because I'd be the one fighting the bad stuff. I'd decide the medicines they need so there aren't any word fights over it, and I'd take care of the bad guys so no one has to lose their jobs over it. Then everyone can be happy and safe. I know Mommy doesn't want me to do the fighting on the outside; it's why I never tell her.”
I wanted to say something encouraging, or hopeful, or inspirational. Jimmy's selflessness had me in awe. It amazed me how boundless a child's dreams could be. Yet again though my curse for poor word choice struck.
“That's a mighty big dream kiddo. It's going to take a lot of hard work.”
I was mentally kicking myself as Jimmy drew quiet, and hoped I didn't sound like as big of a jerk to him as I did to myself. A few minutes had passed before he whispered, “I know. It's why I need to work really hard, and do my best every single day, and make sure I never give up. I can't give up on this. It's too important, because if I don't do it, if I'm not the world's first real superhero, who will be?”
I waited for him to add more, yet it wasn't long before his breathing became deep and even, and I was left with thoughts that chased their tails within my own mind. In the end, I realized this kid had more courage and heart than most anyone knew- most likely more than even his parents knew. If anyone was going to be able to achieve such a huge life's goal, it would be Jimmy, and I was going to help in every which way I could.
After several minutes, I kissed the top of his head and surrendered myself to sleep, and the dreams that awaited me.
-----
[Vivid dream that night. Paul's due to pick up Jimmy; Liam brings up dream in front of both of them. They break into argument with Paul trying to get the bottle, but Angela grabs it first. Paul tries again for it, and it goes flying.]
Instinct took over and I dashed after the bottle. If it reached the tub, the glass would shatter. The medicine, or poison, would splash out and fall down the drain. Any evidence, for or against Angela, would be lost. It had to be saved, not for the mother who might be poisoning her own son for the insurance money, not for the father who might be planting false memories to spite his ex, but for the boy. For the only true innocence in any of this. There was only one thing I could do.
I sprang forward, my eyes glued on the bottle as it flew end over end. Faster, faster, not fast enough. I fell onto all fours, using long strides to push myself faster still as blind instinct took over. No time to think. No time to second guess. My muscles pushed me up into the air and my body stretched to its fullest extent. I landed hard on the tile and slid across the floor until I slammed into the side of the tub with a strangled yip. My teeth clenched together, and I felt the crunch more than heard it. I looked at Paul with large eyes as a sickeningly sweet taste filled my mouth.
I tried to spit out what I could, broken glass and all. The iron taste of my own blood mixed with the medicine thanks to the cuts the glass opened up within my muzzle. Already I felt like I had been punched in the gut from what I couldn't keep from swallowing. Sweat matted my fur - at least I hoped it was sweat, and the skin beneath was burned hot. I had the weird sensation of pressure against my body. After a few seconds, my brain finally comprehended that Paul was picking me up though my skin barely managed to register the pressure beyond the burning and crawling sensations. My eyes struggled and failed to focus on Jimmy's father. I tried to lift my head so I could shake out the ringing from my ears, but my energy was already drained. I hadn't realized I was panting until I tried to speak and nearly bit my lolled tongue off. Paul shook his head as he walked outside into the murky yellow of the streetlights and the stank of the city air.
My mind barely grasped onto Angela screaming at us, demanding to know what Paul was doing with me. He asked if she wanted me to die, and a small part of my struggling brain half-expected her to answer with a resounding yes. She didn't though, and he continued to explain that he was taking me to the vet to see if anything could be done. She continued to yell at us from the door, but I couldn't hear much beyond the rush of my own blood within my ears.
“You did it boy,” he murmured to me as he moved. Despite the stench of garbage and smog, the cool open air felt soothing to my burning skin, dampening the fires some. Then again, maybe I was finding comfort in strange things at the moment. Even Paul's gravely voice held a soothing baritone beneath the constant thrum in my ears. “You have the proof that I need now, and there's not a damned thing she can do to stop us now. You saved my son.”
There was such certainty in his voice. Such a definitive, unshakable belief that I latched onto like a lifeboat. I finally let my aching muscles relax. It was all worth it then. The fire in my veins and muscles and stomach, the ache within my muscles, the blood in my maw. Even the breaking of my heart. It would all be worth it. Jimmy was going to be okay. Whatever the truth was, no matter how muddled, the proof was going to be brought to light. Then he could finally live his life, and maybe even become that superhero he always wanted to be.
I closed my eyes, and suddenly I was back down on all fours. I stretched my toes, and felt fresh grass and damp earth beneath my paw pads. The scent of summer tickled my nose, filled with fragile blossoms, strong pine, and whispered hope. The voice of a young boy's laughter echoed in my ears, calling to me, pulling on me, gleeful and innocent as only a child can be. This time, I ran toward it, and the open arms that had been waiting all along.
~*~*~*~*~*~
And that's all I have for now. Thanks for reading!
Edit: Please Ignore. Making some notes so I'll have them for Monday.
Slow poison. LA smog? Insurance. Others like him. Life as a dog. Father's dog? Father's brother's dog? No stairs. Mention difference in walking- knows how but still very different though not clear that it's for the dog, not the human. Fix conveniance of anthro-over-dog, not Liam-over-4legger.
Yay vague refs XD
Can't sleep so a few random thoughts:
Fear smells sour, like sweat.
Other creature is lapine, possibly French flop or lop eared. If developed enough, might do sequel or prequel.
Need to develop world more. Types of technology, history, city.
Dogs, cats, rabbits, mice, foxes... What else would sell for the company? Might take suggestions, but limit to five, seven tops. Mass produced after all.
Name of company? Name of creatures?
If sequels, might link through creatures. Eg rabbit is in Liam's story for a short cameo, second book is her story. Another creature gets a short cameo in her story, stars in third book. Maybe even include mention of cameo either by making it the beginning of following book, added in the middle, or ending.
Probably not worth mentioning, but meh.