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Just 'cause he's gone

It doesn't change the fact:

He was a bastard in life

Thus a bastard in death

(Death Cab for Cutie)

---

I didn't think the meeting was going terribly well. Nothing I told the assembled group in the small office about the developments in San Javier, so far as I knew about them, seemed to bring them any sense of security. Not that I should have been all that surprised by that. Morgan, leaning against the wall, chewed furiously on her lip in nervous agitation. A ferretess with straight shoulder-length hair paced around the room. Perhaps most terrifyingly, a muskrat (Morgan introduced him as her boss, Karl) stared beadily at me with arms folded across his chest, his complexion growing progressively more red and purple with each sentence.

"And this is all your fault," Karl spat as I concluded my narrative.

Deciding to take his statement as a question, I took the opportunity to waffle.

"Well... er... I messed up, yeah," I conceded under my breath. "But I want to set things right. I want to help,"

The muskrat's entire face was a deep fuchsia by that point. I couldn't understand how that coloration was even possible.

"You want to help? You want to help," Karl barked out a harsh, sharp laugh. "I think your absolutely stellar performance so far has precluded you from being able to contribute to this situation in any sort of productive manner,"

I swallowed thickly, unable to muster a response. Karl stared at me, almost goading me to offer a retort, before barreling onward.

"I have two 400-foot foxes slugging it out in San Javier--a city wholly unprepared for this sort of shit, I might add--right now. Because of you. I'm going to have a thousand bureaucratic fuckers from down there crawling up my tail, trying to come up with some sort of clean-up plan after it's all over, assuming there's anything left to clean up in the first place. All because of you, mind you. I'm going to have to--"

Finally making a move, Morgan stepped up behind me, spinning me around on my heels as she shot a baleful glare at the livid Karl.

"I'm sure you've got things to take care of, Karl," she snapped. "We'll get out of your way,"

Morgan was fuming as she stalked down the hallway leading back to her office. Her shoulders were stiff and her tail swished back and forth irritably.

"Karl's a real asshole. Don't pay him any mind," she snapped huffily before I could apologize again. "He thinks he runs the show here. Okay, and he kinda does in a lot of regards. But you're going to get a job here. I promise you that,"

I blinked in confusion, catching up with the pine marten as she pushed open the door to her office.

"Er, what?" I asked. "When did that come into play? The job, that is,"

A grin played at the corners of Morgan's mouth as she rounded her desk, slumping back in her chair.

"Well, I assume Roger wouldn't have sent you over here, of all places, if he didn't see something in you. So, what'd he see in you? What can you do?"

I cleared aside the stack of papers that had somehow magically rematerialized on top of "my" chair.

"Well, biochem's sorta my thing," I shrugged. "I don't know exactly how I could be of service to you folks here, but I can sure try,"

Morgan chewed her lip again, deep in thought this time around.

"I'll have a word with Becca," she nodded at length. "They're always looking for new hires in the research department. They work on a variety of projects--finding a cure to this gigantism problem being the Holy Grail, of course.

"Do you have any sort of CV I can offer her? Experience, any of that kind of thing? I mean, if they do that sort of thing in your old dimension," she added fretfully. "I don't want to be, I dunno, culturally insensitive or whatever. A résumé, you know. Like, a list of your career accomplishments and that sort of thing,"

I laughed softly. "Well, I suppose I can offer the 'two 400-foot foxes slugging it out in San Javier', as your boss put it, for my résumé,"

"You're certainly one for drama," Morgan arched her brow. "No need to try so hard to impress,"

*****

There was no way I could get used to this whole 'giant rampaging monster' thing. Well, I didn't like to think of myself as a monster, really. And it wasn't so much of a rampage as it was a mission with a fair amount of collateral damage accrued during its execution. But I was too focused (and far too angry) to pay too much mind to that sort of thing at the moment. I didn't like this game to begin with, and now that the military was involved, the whole game had changed.

In Saaduuts, see, there was something of an agreement between MACRO and the various branches of the military. Giants, whether they were violent or not, were our jurisdiction. They were civilians, after all. Very large civilians, that was admittedly true, but civilians nonetheless. Only in the worst-case scenarios would military forces step in, but I was proud to say that we'd managed a perfect track record thus far. There would be no fatalities on my watch, if I could help it.

But this was San Javier. Bunch of godsdamned hypochondriac babies. Couldn't they see I had things handled? Well, more or less handled. Going to be handled. Yeah.

If his earlier activities hadn't been 'enjoyable' enough for him, the arrival of armed opposition was the cherry on the cake for Todd. He was in his godsdamned element. The giant practically frolicked about (definitely frolicking--I fucking hate that word and would not use it unless the circumstances were dire enough to absolutely warrant it), feral in his devious glee.

He'd taken advantage of the moment in more ways than one, using it as an opportunity to put some distance between himself and I. While I tried to defend myself from the worst of the minuscule assault without causing too much damage, he carved his way across town. But as it became increasingly apparent the combined might of the military could do nothing to stop Todd, I slowly realized I would have to put an end to things.

Shrugging off another barrage of artillery fire, I strode purposefully towards my nemesis, not even bothering to be careful. Asphalt and glass crunched thinly underfoot. It wouldn't really matter if I was careful, anyway--Todd had ensured nothing was intact anywhere he went.

Glass and brick rained down as I tore a pair of long, thin banners reading WELCOME TO SAN JAVIER - CALL NOW FOR LEASING OPTIONS from the side of a new-build apartment tower. Carefully I wrapped them around my knuckles like a boxer. If things were going to continue as they'd been going of late, a little extra protection certainly couldn't hurt.

As I caught up to Todd, the fox was leering at a pair of tanks in his clutches. They were firing every shell they had, not that it made an ounce of difference to the giant. I supposed you had to at the very least admit they had conviction.

"Come for another round of city-leveling fisticuffs?" Todd turned to look at me, hitching his hip slightly to the side with a smirk. "You know, for a person who claims to despise violence, you really don't seem to mind a little collateral damage all that much. Or quite a bit of it, actually,"

I swallowed thickly, not wanting to reflect on some of the things I had done in my single-minded goal to defeat Todd, a goal that I had thus far failed at miserably and that had incurred San Javier quite the bill to foot.

Todd's minuscule opposition seemed to be quite aware of that fact as well. The various forces that had amassed to combat the sudden threat didn't seem to be discriminatory when it came to which enormous vulpine they were firing at. Gods damn it, hadn't the chopper pilot I'd spoken with said anything to his cohort? I was the fucking good guy. Some better aim would be really nice on their part. And Todd wasn't exactly a challenging target to hit.

"Ow! What the fuck? I'm on your_side!" I yelped as a fighter jet or two opened fire, strafing bullets across my ass. "That fucking _smarts!"

"If you can't handle the heat, get out of the kitchen," he snorted. "They're barely even noticeable,"

"You seem to be paying them enough attention," I snapped in reply.

Todd cast a sidelong glance at me, a smirk creeping across his face.

Stooping down, he selected a couple more tanks from the small squadron that were blasting away, laying siege to his ankles. A squadron? Is that what you call a group of tanks? A pack? A tussle? I wasn't exactly versed in military terminology. Maybe Warren would know. He seemed to know a whole variety of things, especially things that could have unsavory or creepy implications. A romp? A skulk? Why was I thinking about this? Why did my brain insist upon shutting down or going off to La-La Land when it mattered most?

Todd lapped one of the hapless tanks off his palm, studying me, relishing my disgusted reaction. I wanted to kick him square in his smug godsdamned face, but my leg wouldn't obey. Fuck.

"I'm just disappointed they aren't sending the infantry after us," the evil, evil fox sighed theatrically, straightening up. "I'm getting hungry again and these tanks just won't taste that good. I want... flesh," Todd rumbled out the last word with delight.

I wasn't about to let him make good on that threat. In the span of two strides, I halved the distance between us. Todd was too fast for me, easily dodging my kick to the knees.

With a terrific grunt, Todd managed to get his hands under my armpits, shoving me away with all his strength as sent me toppling. I managed to find my center of balance, lunging back to my feet.

Grabbing Todd by the wrists, I pushed the gigantic fox backwards with all my might. Todd let out a pained grunt as I twisted his wrist backwards.

We grappled, struggling to get the upper hand. I seemed to be gaining the advantage, managing to gradually force Todd backward with each laborious step.

All of a sudden, my feet slipped out from under me, sending me sprawling forward onto my stomach. My chin crunched heavily against an overpass bridge. Cursing aloud, I glanced down: in my effort to take out Todd, I'd missed noticing a large oil slick caused by the spilled contents of a tipped-over tanker truck.

As I scrambled back to my feet, Todd leered over me. Too late, I saw he was clutching a sizeable chunk of a skyscraper in his grip like a club. My fingers cast about for something, anything, with which to defend myself, but they came up empty.

Todd's arm swung down in a scarlet arc and everything went black.

*****

A frown furrowed my brow as I rounded the corner to the street on which my house was located. Parked across from my house was an unmarked black van with frosted windows and several antennae shooting out from the hood. It had been holed up behind a dumpster, as if that made it fucking invisible or something.

"These bastards have no decency. Or subtlety, for that matter," I muttered angrily to myself.

It was going to end right then and there. I was sure of that much. I was done with these shady individuals showing up and endlessly harassing Ciaran and me at all hours of day and night.

Walking up beside the dumpster, I stooped down. My fingers slipped beneath the undercarriage of the van and I lifted it up, gripping the vehicle like a can of soda. It had a weight to it, but was nowhere near as heavy as I'd expected it to be.

"Let's go for a little walk, shall we?" I muttered to the occupants of the vehicle. Not like they had an option in the matter.

"This is the last time we'll be in contact, I'm sure," I said sweetly but firmly as I picked my way down the street, clutching the vehicle at chest level. "In fact, you aren't even going to talk to me now. You've had quite enough time to say your piece. More than enough time. So now's my turn.

"I'm fucking done with you all patrolling the periphery of my life, trying to wedge your way into it. Not going to happen. I don't know what the fuck you want with me, or who the fuck you really are, for that matter. And I'd much prefer to keep it that way.

"This is your last warning. I trust you'll use your good judgment and respect that. I'd hate for things to get more... drastic should you not," I gave the van a gentle squeeze to underline my point. I could feel the metal start to crumble a little under my grip and smirked.

"Well, I guess that about covers it," I shrugged. Stooping down, I set the van on the rooftop of a house. "See ya never,"

Turning my back on the van I had abandoned on the rooftop, I stalked back towards my home. If I was asserting myself, why did I feel worried still? What else was wrong?

*****

When I returned to a bleary half-consciousness, Todd was nowhere to be seen. I stumbled to my feet, trying to regain my bearings.

My head felt like it had been the site of major explosives testing and my legs had been replaced with sheaves of al dente spaghetti. I brushed the fine patina of rubble from my side as I scanned my surroundings for signs of Todd.

"Bingo," I muttered to myself as my eyes fell on the San Javier Bay.

Standing shin-deep in the sparkling waters of the bay, Todd was intently studying a shipping tanker that he had picked up in both hands. My eyes narrowed.

However, I didn't seem to be the only one ready for payback. Tanks and all mannered of armored vehicles wended their way through the battered streets towards the bay. At least they'd laid off including me in their assault, it seemed. But I couldn't have the extra collateral, or the distraction for that matter.

Stooping down, I gingerly plucked up an AFV between thumb and forefinger. I lifted it to my face, clearing my throat.

"You need to get word to your commander, or whoever is running this operation. Stand down," I said evenly. "I thought we would be able to overwhelm him together, but I was wrong. Todd will crush you all. He's just too much. It's him and me now. Let me finish this,"

Gritting my teeth, I returned the vehicle to the pavement before standing up, clearing the group in a single stride. They didn't seem to follow me as I wended my way down to the waterfront, so I took that as a promising sign.

"I was wondering when you'd come around," Todd commented without looking at me as I approached. "I'd toyed with the idea of just pulling that needle out of your hip and squishing you like a bug, but what would be the fun in that?

"Besides. I had all those matchbox tanks and jets to play with! They kept me pretty busy for a while. At least they were good for something,"

"I'm done with this," I spat sourly, my head still throbbing.

Todd balanced the tanker in one hand as he leaned over, splashing me with a tsunami-worth of water. I winced as the wave inundated the waterfront, decimating piers and warehouses.

Wordlessly, I waded out towards Todd. Playtime was over. The water was really fucking cold. Should have been more prepared for that, given the arctic nature of the water back home in Saaduuts.

Todd's crooked grin fell as I advanced on him, a frown on my face and my hands balled into fists. He staggered backwards a couple of steps, holding an arm up. Good. I had him scared.

Pressing my advantage, I grabbed up a smaller destroyer ship that I hoped was more or less deserted, about the length of my forearm. It was surprisingly heavy. Well, maybe that should have been expected; fuck only knew how many tons it weighed.

Todd's eyes widened a little as I brandished the watercraft at him.

"You gonna hit me with that?" he smirked. All the same, I thought I saw a flicker of misgiving in his eyes.

I did hit him with that. The destroyer arced through the air, striking Todd across the jaw and chest, splashing into the water below.

Not allowing Todd to get a word in edgewise, I continued to advance on Todd, picking up the pace. The fox let the tanker slip through his fingers, his eyes starting to reflect something akin to fear. He stumbled, tripping backwards over the span of a suspension bridge that connected two thin spits of land at the mouth of the bay. With a tremendous splash, Todd toppled flat out on his back.

"Hey! What's this all about?" Todd said, holding out a hand.

I didn't reply. Since I'd stepped into the water, something inside me had been set aflame, and all I wanted to do was destroy the monster sprawled before me.

Todd propped himself up on his elbows, trying to get his feet, but I wasn't about to let that happen. Standing astride Todd, I placed a foot on his chest. Leaning over, I tore away a segment of tower from the decimated bridge. Gripping it like a club, I bashed him twice in the skull. The structure slipped through my fingers, landing with a splash in the frigid waters. With my foot, I pressed down hard, forcing Todd flat on his back in the bay.

"What are you doing?" Todd spluttered, spitting out saltwater.

"Fixing a problem," I replied, my eyes burning.

Sitting on Todd's stomach with my knees pinning his forearms to the bed of the bay, I pushed Todd's head underwater.

Todd kicked and struggled, great bubbles bursting on the surface of the water. My fingers closed tighter and tighter around his throat, crushing the breath from the drowning fox's lungs. He tried to claw at me, but my knees prevented him from moving all that effectively. I could almost hear the gurgling scream.

After what seemed like an eternity, the struggle subsided altogether. No more bubbles broke the surface. Still I held Todd underwater.

The flames burning inside me flickered and extinguished. Tears blinded my vision. My whole body shook, sniveling wretchedly.

I rolled off of Todd's lifeless body, lying on my side in the frigid waters of the San Javier Bay, my body wracked with sobs.

Remembering my job--my fucking job--I reached a trembling hand out and unclasped the black strap from around Todd's neck, letting it fall into the bay.

The effect was almost instantaneous. Todd dwindled down to apparent nothingness, his body disappearing below the murky waves. I didn't care to fish him out of there, and I seriously doubted whether I would be able to find him even if I cared to do so.

Half wading, half crawling, I stumbled back toward the waterfront. I sat on the edge of a pier, cupping my face in my hands, wet and cold and giant and alone.

Almost as an afterthought, I reached down, my fingers fumbling for the patch sewn into the waistband of my compression shorts. Pulling the needle free of my hip, I snapped it off with the ball of my thumb.

I let the waistband snap back against my hip as I felt a violent shiver pass through my body. My vision blurred and several moments later, I sat on the edge of the pier, feet dangling in the air, normal-sized again.

Hugging my arms around my chest against the cold that I was suddenly painfully aware of, I picked myself up and padded along the length of the pier towards the city. Or whatever remained of it. Nothing remained. Hardly anything recognizable, anyway.

But I guess that's how things turn out.

*****

I picked intently at my pasta, avoiding eye contact with my gigantic girlfriend. Tab had been in a surly mood from the moment she'd walked in the door, and it seemed to show no signs of improving any time soon.

"What's going on, Tab?" I asked softly as she attacked her pile of pasta again.

"It's nothing to worry about," the ferretess replied shortly, licking her thumb clean.

"Something's bothering you. Let's talk,"

"I want a fucking real fork," Tabitha spat. "Not this stupid shovel piece of crap. I'm sick of being treated like a godsdamn feral or something just because I'm big,"

"It's those creepy guys, isn't it," I persisted. "Are they bothering you still? I need to talk with someone who can help us--"

"--They're handled," Tabitha replied curtly, stabbing her stupid shovel piece of crap at the pasta.

"What do you mean, 'handled'?" I asked, my eyes widening. "Tabitha, you didn't do anything... dire, did you?"

"No, I didn't," the ferretess said. "Why would you think I'd do something like that?"

I was going to mutter something about her actually _doing _ 'something like that' on at least one occasion in the past, but she looked so wounded I figured it would be better to just let the matter drop.

"That's the thing. None of this would be the same if I weren't ninety godsdamn feet tall. I wish I was normal,"

"If you were normal, you wouldn't have moved to Winthrop. And then I would have never met you," I murmured.

I grimaced. I'd hoped my comment would have sounded reassuring, but it just came out... awkward. Ten points to me.

Tabitha scowled at me, pushing back from the table.

"Er, where are you going?" I asked as she crossed over to her wardrobe.

"I dunno," Tabitha snapped in reply, pulling the sailcloth she used as a (fairly inefficient in terms of drying power) towel off its peg. "I wanna take a bath or something. Who gives a shit?"

"But Wednesday was yesterday," I pointed out.

Installing a shower in Tabitha's home was next to impossible, as it would have shot the neighborhood's water pressure to hell every time she wanted to use it. She did _have_one, but her usage of it was highly restricted to a few set periods of time during the week, and only when it got chilly.

During much of the year, the city opted to shut down the waterfront of Channel Lake for an hour Wednesdays and Sundays so she could attend to her bathing needs. It was more than a little awkward, but she got used to it, I supposed. Sometimes, she'd let me take a canoe out and paddle around to keep her company.

"It isn't fucking Wednesday. You're right. But isn't that the fucking point!?" Tabitha burst out, throwing her towel onto the floor. "I wish that I was normal. I wish I didn't have creeps coming out of my godsdamn gutters at all hours of day and night. I wish I could work inside a fucking building. I wish that when and where I can fucking bathe myself wasn't something that had to be decided by the godsdamned CITY COUNCIL!" she bellowed, pounding her fist on the surface of the table with every word. I just about fell out of my chair, and my glass went flying, spilling water everywhere.

"Why don't you stay here?" I said quietly. "You're in a bad mood. You wouldn't want to do anything you'd regret,"

All of a sudden, Tabitha's great hand encircled me as she pushed back from the table. I made to protest loudly, but the tip of her thumb covered my mouth. She crossed the room, dropping me unceremoniously into my little box-home. I landed on the bed, protesting loudly as the roof-lid slammed overhead.

"You can't DO this!" I shouted shrilly. "You can't just... put me away!"

"I can do whatever I please," came Tabitha's huffy response.

"That isn't how this works," I snapped, massaging my sore rump as I rolled off the bed and started to make my way towards the door. "I'm really starting to get sick of all these episodes with you. When you're in a bad mood or when something's happened, we can talk about it. You don't get to abuse people just because you're angry. Or maybe you're falling out of touch with... with normal people,"

My world quite literally turned upside down. I was knocked backwards as Tabitha picked up the house-box. She gave it a couple of hefty shakes, sending furniture (and me) ricocheting about the space. Everything forcibly settled out as she dropped the house-box to the ground.

Groaning, I pushed the coffee table off my legs and stumbled to my feet, trying to regain my bearings. I ached in a dozen different places at least, but at least I didn't think anything was broken. The box had been dropped on its side, so I stood facing the floor like it was a wall.

My ears were still ringing from the assault to my home, but as my head started to clear, I became vaguely aware of the what sounded like some kind of scuffle breaking out in the larger house around me. There came a series of loud bangs and a strangled shout. Then everything fell deathly silent.

"Tab?" I squeaked. "Tab? What's going on?"

I stumbled across my topsy-turvy home, finally managing to make my way to a window through which I crawled.

It was as if a hurricane had torn through Tabitha's home. Pieces of furniture had toppled over (well, some of the ones that hadn't been built into the floor, at least) and the door was hanging off its hinges. Tabitha was nowhere to be seen.

I reached for my phone, but it had been broken during the fall. Cursing softly to myself, I hurried towards Tabitha's front door and the outdoors. I needed desperately to speak with someone, anyone, who could help.

*****

I'd been dozing curled up on a couch in the visitors lounge when Roger shambled in. He was dressed in slouchy jeans and a comically oversized hooded sweatshirt that proclaimed in bold block letters ' I ? SJ'. It didn't seem he'd found any shoes. His hands were shoved deep into the pouch pocket of the hoodie and his eyes surveyed the floor listlessly.

Smacking the sour just-napped taste out of my mouth, I swung my legs over the side of the couch.

"Wanna sit down?" I asked, patting the cushion next to me.

Roger slumped down beside me, hollow-eyed and silent. He leaned up against me, resting his cheek on my shoulder.

Now, I don't believe in any of that twin-psychic-sense bullshit. But this was one of those times that I knew exactly what Roger wanted and needed. So we just sat there like that, quiet and contemplative.

"Is Reynard going to die?" Roger asked at length, his question barely audible.

"I don't know," I replied.

"Lie to me," Roger whispered.

I ran my fingers through his hair, staring idly at a weird little stain on the ceiling. It was shaped like a chef's hat. Or maybe one of those slightly greasy but oh-so-delicious shepherd's pies my mum used to make.

"You know you hate it when I do that," I said. A pause. "You want to talk? About what happened?"

"I killed him," my brother stated flatly after a lengthy pause. "Drowned him in the fucking bay,"

I blinked. "Well, gets the job done, I suppose,"

Roger reacted for the first time, barking out a single harsh, sharp laugh.

"I want to see Rey. Will they let me see him? Where is he?" he asked.

Roger slid off the couch, wandering aimlessly towards the double doors that led into the main ward. I followed after him silently.

The parakeet sitting behind the reception desk made a soft sound of complaint as Roger drifted into the main ward.

"He's been through a lot," I apologized softly to her. "He's my brother--Reynard's husband. Family. Just let Roger see him, please,"

When I caught up with Roger in Reynard's room, he was sitting in a seat next to the hospital bed. Hands folded in his lap, he was staring blankly at his comatose husband. Nothing broke the silence save the steady ping of the vitals monitor.

"I'll go and see what I can do to make arrangements for Rey's transference to a hospital in Saaduuts as soon as can be managed," I murmured in my brother's ear, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"He looks so peaceful right now," Roger said softly. He leaned forward, reaching out to brush back the arctic fox's forelock. "It almost looks like nothing bad ever happened to him,"

I gave Roger's shoulder a quick squeeze and exited the room, closing the door behind me. The nurse at the reception desk had a seemingly endless stream of paperwork to sort out. Apparently there is a lot of stuff to wade through if you wanted to transfer a comatose person from one hospital to a different one in an entirely different region of the mega-state. Who'da thunk it? Fortunately, I had an old friend who worked at Bayview Medical Center up in Saaduuts. Made things a little easier. Well, easier on the astronomical scale, but easier nonetheless.

Handing over the gargantuan stack of forms, I flopped down in one of waiting room's tired old chairs. Changing my mind, I crossed back to the desk and leaned over the tall counter.

"When my brother comes out, could you tell him I went to the hotel room? The new one. It's the Sheldonian, right around the corner. Room 1137," I said, passing her the spare card key.

The desk nurse nodded, tucking the key into a cubby on the desk. I turned on my heels and trudged out the door, hands stuffed into my pockets.

*****

Today would be Roger's first day back on the job. It had been a pretty busy few weeks for him, or so I had heard through his brother's occasional updates. He needed some time alone. Of course.

Warren said Roger was in pretty poor form, dividing his time between Reynard's bedside and the dive pub a couple of blocks away from the hospital. I kept trying to get Warren to intervene, but he insisted Roger needed to work things out on his own for a little while.

"You could pretend to give a damn once in a while, you know," I snapped during our last exchange. "He clearly isn't 'working things out'. He's wallowing,"

Warren had shot me a dirty look, fixing me with his steely gaze as he gave me an extensive lecture on how he was Roger's brother, not me, so he knew damn well how to deal with Roger, thank you very much. And that was that.

I suppose I could have gone and checked on him, but I was still pretty new at the place when Roger left. He probably wouldn't want to hear lectures or anything from a young whippersnapper such as myself. Besides, I was pretty occupied getting Tal used to his new home. He was a pretty nice guy, for some sort of weird dragon from another dimension. Made my day more interesting, that was for sure.

I showed up early on that day, wanting to make sure that Roger's office was in order for his first day back. He would probably have a pretty hefty backlog of work, and I didn't want him to have to deal with a messy desk on top of all that.

Ordinarily, I just would have made his secretary do that, but I didn't really trust him. That flighty meerkat was good for nothing. If I didn't know better, I would have just assumed Roger kept him on because wanted some eye candy.

Karl was just walking by as I exited Roger's office. I managed to chase him down, calling after him to wait up a moment.

"In case you'd forgotten, it's Roger's first day back," I said. "I know you've probably got a lot to go over with him, but I have a bit of a request. Can you go easy on him today? Ease him back in? He's been dealing with a lot lately, with his husband's problems and all that. I can take on a bit of the extra if you need the help. I've been doing pretty good with that stuff while he was gone,"

Karl's ear twitched, but he nodded curtly. "Thank you for the reminder," he said. That was probably the most I would ever get out of that muskrat. In fact, I was pretty much astounded.

Returning Karl's nod, I turned and made my way back down the hall. I caught the tip of Roger's bushy tail disappearing around the corner and followed him towards his office.

When I reached the doorway, Roger was sitting in his chair, pushing back against the desk as he slowly swiveled back and forth. His hair was tousled (well, more so than usual) and there were dark rings under his eyes. Neither his tie nor his shoes were knotted. I didn't think he was even wearing socks, for that matter. And he wasn't one of those stupid no-socks hipsters. He was staring blankly at the stack of papers waiting for him on his desk through unfocused eyes.

I tapped on the doorframe to announce my presence. Roger grunted without looking up from the stack. Taking that as a 'come in', I entered and perched myself on the edge of the desk.

"I just wanted to let you know you can give any of that to me today. Just for today. Don't think this is a free pass or whatever, but I know you're just getting back into the swing--"

"--If you decide to get married, don't ever go on a honeymoon," Roger muttered.

I blinked. "I'm really sorry things turned out how they did," I said eventually, resting my hand on Roger's. "That wasn't fair at all. If you need anything, let me know,"

Roger wrenched his hand out from under mine, folding it primly in his lap. He still hadn't made eye contact with me.

"Alright, I want Reynard back, then. In perfect health, thanks," he said, his voice filled with false cheer.

"Er, I can't do that. I'm sorry," I replied.

"Of course not. Well, in that case, could you figure out a way to undo the fact that I leveled half of San Javier?"

"I haven't figured out how to time travel yet, either," I said, a hint of irritation entering my voice.

"Well, of course you can't. That's unreasonable of me. But that's all I want. Why the fuck do people always say that if they know fully well they can't give me the 'anything I want'? I can take care of this stuff, thank you very much. I don't need your help,"

I hesitated, stung by Roger's outburst.

"You're right," I said at length. "I should have known. It--it's just what people say. A careless gesture. Well-meaning, but careless.

"I haven't known you all that long, but I'd like to think of you as a friend. And when my friends get hurt, I want to help them. We can't do anything about what's happened. That's out of our control. And that sucks.

"But that's what we have to deal with. And you can get through it. It'll probably be really hard sometimes. But we have to rebuild. _You_have to rebuild. Only you can do that. But that doesn't mean you can't have some help on the way," I concluded.

I nodded shortly, deciding that my impromptu speech had petered out. I showed myself out of Roger's office, glancing over my shoulder as I left. Roger hadn't moved, but I thought I saw the tiniest hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. It was something, I supposed. And that was something to build from.