Did he hurt you?: Part 1

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Scratch. Scratchscratchscratch.

The silence was deafening.

Scratch.

"And did either of you hurt each other, physically?"

The young racoon sat in silence on the edge of the hospital bed, the paper sheet crinkling as he kneaded his paws on it. The doctor, a mid-40s male antelope, watched for a sign, and finally was able to pencil down a note when the child shook his head, his eyes watering a little. The exam room shone sickly white, so bright and sterile that it made him sick.

"Mkay, then..." Dr. Warden stood, then, to the surprise of the young fur, he turned and hoisted himself up onto the table, sighing and clenching his hands together. "Logan, I know this isn't easy, but for your health, I need to know what happened between you and Joel. It's important for you and for me to know, in case that there's any chance he could have anything that may hurt you...even..." He hated telling these things to children. "Even kill you."

Logan bit his lip, tears trickling from his eyes. He knew he had made this happen. He knew that he could have said no, and he could have stopped everything. But one slip of the tongue, one wrong word, had brought his secret to the top and doctor to suspicion. It had been so lovely, that night, and he thought back to when everything had been a game and he lost his innocence...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~`~

"So, how old are you, Logan?"

The big black wolf grinned at the boy sitting on the stool before him. Logan blushed shyly, his plain blue t-shirt in harmony with his silver fur. Unlike other raccoons, he was all-silver, with black stripes on his tail and around his eyes, instead of the usual brown-grey of his species. "Seven," he squeaked, his fluffy tail swishing underneath him. He pulled up his khakis, which he did constantly. Most boys like him preferred the low-riding pants, instead of the kind that had a strap going around the tailbase; they were easier to get off.

Joel raised a pierced eyebrow, his own tail wagging slightly. "Seven! You're getting to be a big boy, cubby," he laughed, poking his new friend in the stomach, making his wriggle around and giggle, feeling more at ease with the adult canine. "Okay...so here's the drill." Joel got up, walking to the fridge and picking up a list. His ICP sweatshirt fit loosely on his lithe frame, along with the baggy jeans he wore.

"Well, your parent left until tomorrow at noon, sooooo I'm yours for...wow, twenty-two hours!" His green eyes twinkled, and he walked back over to Logan, who was now on the ground and curling his ensocked toes, smiling playfully at his babysitter. The wolf crouched, grinning like a supervillan. "Whacha wanna do first?" he asked, ruffling the boys' head.

"Um...wanna go to the park?" the cub suggested, pointing to the door. "It's real sunny!" Which was true; the winter had suffered from an identity crisis, and the sun was warm in the sky. Puddles had even formed in the street.

Joel grinned, standing back up. "Sounds good to me! C'mon, get your coat and shoes on and we'll head off." Logan smiled and ran to the door, grabbing his zip-up hoodie and sneakers. As he pulled his puffy jacket on, Joel slipped his boots on, then helped Logan into his shoes. Logan showed him the story his mommy had taught him about tying bows, and the two walked out into the sunlit yard, holding paws.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~`~

Three hours later, a snow covered wolf and a laughing silver cub unlocked the door and practically fell into the house, laughing rambunctiously and waving good-bye to the other families they had met with. "I didn't know there was a sledding hill there, bro!" Joel said, flopping on the carpet after he had kicked off his boots.

"I did!" Logan hung his coat on the hook before lying on top of his sitter, hugging his chest.

"Hey, shoes off!" Joel chastised, reaching behind Logan and tugging the sneakers off, not bothering to untie them as he tossed them to the rack of other shoes.

"Mommy says you have to undo the strings, Joel."

"I'll take care of them, Logan. Mom's not here anyway, remember?"

Logan growled, baring his tiny teeth, and Joel pretended to growl back, nosing the coon cub on the tip of his own nose, which the boy promptly bit. "Ackpth! Alright, alright, you win!" The wolf pushed Logan off, laughing and rubbing his nose. "I didn't know a little guy like you could nip like that," he commented, and Logan just hugged him back in apology.

Then, Logan meeped as he was suddenly picked up, Joel holding his small body with ease. His hazel eyes were nervous for a moment, but they soon turned to playful glee when he saw that the bigger wolf meant no harm. "Well, next on the list," he said, "you've gotta go take a shower. You don't need me that for you, do you?" The boy shook his head vigorously, and Joel set him down with a smack on the rump. "G'wan then, and I'll have a pizza here when you get out."

"Awesome! You're the best sitter ever!" Logan squeaked, and ran back over and gave the black wolf a big hug, pressing himself into the warm sweatshirt before running upstairs, leaving the adult slightly surprised, but smiling as he watched the receding raccoon.

But as soon as he heard a door slam, his face turned sour, and he whipped out his phone, redialing. A thick, slightly drunken voice spoke into the earpiece. "Y'ello?"

"You fucking bastard."

"I take it you've got some live prey for me?"

"You aren't laying a singly filthy claw on Logan."

"Why do you always got this soft spot for kids? Look, Joey, you want the money, get the pics and maybe have some fun of your own."

"This is sick, Gray. It's sick and illegal," Joel barked as quietly as he could manage, balling his paws into fists, nearly crushing the phone. "I swear, one of these days I'm gonna get a fucking crowbar and castr-"

"Easy, easy, big boy!" A sterile, crackling laugh came over the phone. "You're the one that we brought back from the streets, and we can put you back on them like a fuckin' whore. Get at least thirty pictures, and you have payment for the next four months."

"Gray-"

The line went dead. Joel slowly put the phone down from his ear, the voice leering in his mind to hurt the boy, to rape him, to get it on tape for the perverts of the world to see. Every time he went 'home', he found himself surrounded by pictures of young boys and girls, sifting through the files of spread legs, tearstained faces, an illegal sex cartel he was forced to be part of.

"Joel? There no more, sham - "

"God FUCKING SHIT!"

Joel threw the phone across the room, hitting the hardwood and shattering it in half, the plastic pieces bouncing and skidding to a slow halt in front of two small, bare, silver paws. Logan looked terrified up at his sitter, a white towel wrapped around his waist, his ears slicked back, dripping and not quite believing what he had just heard. His parents said those swears were very bad to say, and he was now staring at someone he thought he trusted who had just screamed them, his sweatshirt tossed off and discarded on the floor, his muscles clenched and his face so furious that Logan started to cry a little, fearing he had done something to make Joel so...so different than when he first saw him. "J-Joel?"

"Don't...oh, shit, I'm...no, no, oh no, Logan..."

Now, you decide where this goes! Sex? Death? Magic? Leave a comment below.

©2010 Abel Nezumiser, A.K.A. TheOrigamist