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Tai's Story

-- By Krazy Kitsune/Kichigai Kitsune

Copyright 2005 onwards.

Tedious disclaimer:

This story contains content of a sexual nature involving two male anthropomorphic foxes, ages 8 and 10; if such a story is likely to offend you, or you are not legally allowed to read this material according to the laws you are subject to, do not continue. I do not condone the reading of, or the emulation of, the material contained herein, nor any acts otherwise hinted or alluded to in this document, especially by minors.

If you are under the legal age to read this, or it is likely to offend you, do not read beyond this disclaimer. This warning is explicit, so don't complain to the author or the host of this document if you get in trouble for reading it, or you dislike this type of story, or if you are an irresponsible parent and can't control what your children read online. It is not unrealistic to assume that either you monitor your children's use of the internet or that you raise a child honest and decent enough not to read sexual stories on the net, or if they do, to view it harmlessly as fiction. All of that is on your shoulders, not mine.

If you read beyond this disclaimer, it is your choice to do so. You also indicate that you have fair knowledge of the content and made the choice to view it without any encouragement; so you take full responsibility and agree to hold nobody but yourself responsible for any consequences that arise from your continuing to read. If you don't agree to that, cease reading this document now.

Any political opinions voiced herein are best considered the opinions of the characters that voiced them. This is a work of fiction. The political/cultural opinions voiced by the characters, therefore, only apply to this fictional world; in short, I'm not trying to convert people. Though if it gets a few people thinking, then that's their decision.

Part Two...

---

Chapter 6

Not long into the afternoon, Robert returned, and Jake bid the boys goodbye, regretfully. Mike asked if he could stay the night too, but the alsatian claimed he had things to attend to in the morning. Both the kits weren't happy about that.

Thus, the rest of the evening was uneventful, with the two kits spending most of it in their room, lying together on the bed, holding paws, staying close, and talking in low voices. After the unexpected shock of the previous night, where they both felt their new friendship was about to abruptly end, the two felt a powerful closeness all of a sudden. The likes of which neither had felt before.

But they were quiet, reserved. Unusually so, even for them.

Tai knew, as did Mike, that tonight was going to be the last night he was their guest. Barring anything unforeseen, Eraline would be back late tonight, maybe even coming into this apartment and whisking her son back to their own despite the lateness of the hour - and there was no guarantee the vixen would ever allow her son to stay the night in Mike's bed ever again. So of course the boys wanted to make the most of it.

"Wonder how mom will act when she hears about the guys who chased me," Tai muttered during a lull in their rambling conversation.

Mike blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I dunno..." Tai shrugged and stretched out spread-eagled on the bed. "I hope she takes me out of that place... she's done it before."

"She should," stated Mike, frowning. "I've never heard of a school that bad before. It's just crazy."

Tai snorted. "She'll probably yell at me for not going to school for the last few days."

"That's not fair. Does she do stuff like that?"

"Sometimes."

Mike draped an arm across the smaller boy's chest and squeezed him a little. "It'll be alright," he said brightly. "I'll always be around. If you ever need anything, just come by here. It's only one floor. Dad likes you too."

Smiling, Tai twisted around and laid a skinny leg on Mike's back. "Thank you."

"No problemo."

"Did you want to..." Tai blushed beneath his fur, a sheepish smile on his muzzle. "Play or anything? You know...?"

"You bet I do," said Mike softly. "But we can't do anything complicated and it's still early."

Tai nodded and stretched out on the bed. "I know." He had an idea. "Wanna show me your toys?"

After a moment, Mike beamed and sat up. "I thought you'd never ask!" He rolled off the bed and knelt on the carpet, pulling out a box on wheels that seemed to be attached to the bottom of the bed-frame like a drawer. It rattled noisily as the contents were sharply jolted. "Ta-da! Hidden treasure chest."

Tai yanked himself to the edge of the bed. "That's neat!"

Sitting on the floor, Mike popped the top off the box. It wasn't a big toy-box, but it was still nearly twice the size of Tai's. It was filled to the brim with stuff: old plush toys, small toy vehicles, fake firearms, as well as things that Tai didn't immediately recognize. It truly was a treasure chest.

Mike withdrew a small, blue creature with four legs constructed from sturdy plastic. It was a blue-skinned creature, equipped with large fangs, sharp claws and a tail that twisted like a snake into the air behind it. It seemed to be a weird amalgamation of various species, almost like a chimera. "I have no idea what this is," he said, looking a little bemused. "Dad got it for me because he heard all the kits were getting them. It's cool though."

"It's a Thunder-Kirin," Tai supplied instantly. "From Battle Eidolon ZERO?" A completely baffled look was his response. "Um, it can breathe thunder-clouds and teleport around as a bolt of lightning. They guard the temples of..." He flushed and trailed off. "It's a TV show. Everyone at school watched it."

"Must be popular..." Mike frowned, evidently imagining something. "Breathe thunder-clouds...? Whoa, that's awesome!" He looked closely at the toy, his tail twitching. "It's even cooler than what I was doing with it."

"What was that?"

Mike shrugged. "It has big teeth," he replied simply. "I haven't watched that show."

Tai felt a little bitter at that. "I wanted one," he admitted, "but mom told me it was way too expensive."

In fact, he'd watched that show because it was popular at school and because it was on TV on Monday and Thursday mornings. But Mike didn't go to a school, and was probably able to sleep in on those mornings. His friends were older too, and even if they mentioned the show, he probably didn't give it any thought.

That made him a little jealous; Mike didn't need to know the fads, know what he was supposed to know. The things Tai had struggled to keep up with at school, but never could - isolating him even more from his friends and peers. It didn't seem to matter to Mike.

It wasn't fair. What was Tai doing that was so wrong?

"This is really cool," Mike said, extracting a life-like dinosaur as big as his forearm. It stood on two legs and looked fierce, with a huge sickle-like claw on each foot. He placed it on the ground and hit a switch, resulting in the toy taking a step forward, bowing down and let out a harrowing- if tiny- snarl.

"Wh-what's that?!" Tai asked, lying onto his back.

"Velociraptor!" Mike told him, shooting him another baffled look. "I thought you'd love dinosaurs."

"How come?"

"Well, they're interesting and cool. They existed millions of years before even the humans. If you wanna borrow anything, you can!" Mike replaced the toy, rummaging around for another. He pulled out a jet plane. "Oops, not what I want. Let's see!"

Tai looked around the room with a silent sigh, trying to conceal his sullen depression from his friend.

He looked closely at the older kit, digging through his toys. Mike wasn't like him. Unlike him, Mike was confident, social and active, wearing fashionable clothes that Tai's mom could never afford, and he was so incredibly smart. Mike wasn't totally ignorant of kids' culture, as the posters and other toys in the room showed. Oh, what the heck did it matter? Why did he care? He knew he should be happy for Mike, but he couldn't be.

Why was he jealous of his closest friend just for having a toy he wanted?!

"I play with these all the time." Suddenly there was a gigantic, real-looking, lizard-demon in his face. "T-rex! Rawr!" Mike chuckled. "Check it out! The skin is so real."

"Whu? Oh, wow, it does," replied Tai, reaching out and poking it. He forced a smile. "Like a big lizard. Eww."

Mike took the tyrannosaurus and jammed an 'unwilling' human doll in its fearsome jaws before handing it to Tai. "It's hard to feed him," he said seriously, grinning cheekily. "He likes humans, but they're all gone, so he's always hungry. Ravenous dinosaur!"

"That why he's so small?"

Mike grinned even wider. "You're the expert." He rummaged some more, clearly happy to be showing off his toys. Show and tell continued for a little while, before Mike stopped and stared at the floor momentarily. "Hey..." he said tentatively. "Want to hear some music? I know it might not be your thing... but, um, I got a new album last week."

Tai looked at the hopeful upraised face and blinked. He almost said no, but something... "Sure!" he said, watching in bemusement as Mike stood and bounced over to his music player on the dresser at the other side of the bed.

Mike wanted so much to show these things to him. It was as if it was the first time he'd shown anyone, probably aside from his dad. Maybe he'd never had a friend over he wanted to show these things to. That was curious.

Maybe he'd... never had a real friend before. Not one he could feel comfortable around. Not one he could have in his room, to talk to about anything and everything.

Tai suddenly didn't feel jealous anymore.

They were more alike than he could've hoped.

The two fox-pups had to go to sleep early, their 'naughty' plans unfulfilled. Instead they had played with toys and one another for hours together until they could stay awake no more.

However, early the next morning, Mike's bedroom door cracked open and Robert slipped into the room. He gently shook the boys, waking them up with a quiet whisper.

"Dad?" Mike mumbled when he finally got his eyes to flutter open. "Wh-what is it?"

Robert looked apologetic. "Sorry boys, but Tai's mom got back a few hours ago. She wants him home now."

"Tch."

Tai roused himself quickly afterwards, almost unfazed by the early hour, slipping into some of his clothes and zipping up the carry-case he'd recovered from his house filled with clothing. He yawned and looked back at the warm bed with Mike still in it, looking out at him.

"You're going home, huh," Mike said sulkily.

"Uh-huh." Tai slung the case over his shoulder. "Thanks for..." he paused. What to thank Mike for first? The list was huge. Caring about him? Listening to him? Being his best friend ever? "Everything."

Mike nodded and smiled. "Thanks for being my friend," he said sincerely, sitting up in bed and pulling the warm covers to his chest. "I..."

"Yeah." Tai sighed and looked at his still bare paws. "I hope it stays that way."

"Huh?"

"Well, none of my other friends are still my friends are they?"

Mike looked at Tai, perplexed. "You don't think I'll be like that, do you?"

Tai returned the look. "I don't know... all my friends have been like that."

"I'll be your friend forever."

The tawny kit smiled and put on his socks and shoes. "I hope so. See you soon?"

"Whenever you want!" Mike chuckled sleepily. "I'll come round your place next time."

When Tai dragged himself through the apartment to the door, his mother was talking with Robert out front in the dingy corridor. The grownups were still chatting away. Tai hung back, not wanting to intrude, or unnecessarily hasten his departure.

"You need to be careful though," he heard Robert mutter softly, likely trying to avoid waking the neighbors. "Things aren't the same as, well..."

"I suppose so," Eraline said conversationally. "But the more things change, the more they stay the same."

"Not so sure about that myself. A lot can happen in nine-" Robert glanced over his shoulder and grinned at the patiently waiting kit behind him. "Oh, there you are, Tai!" He changed position, leaning on the door-frame and allowing Tai a direct line of sight to his mother - her hair was slightly frizzed and dry, her fur not as clean as normal, and she appeared totally exhausted.

Nonetheless, when she saw Tai, Eraline smiled as best she could. "Well, I think we'll go sleep now," she said, a longing in her tone. "It was nice to meet you. I'm glad Tai gets on well with your son."

"Nice to meet you too," Robert replied, shaking her paw. He was grinning slightly. "We'll have to do something together sometime. Soon." He ruffled Tai's hair as he passed, eliciting a shy smile. "Come by anytime, Tai. You're always welcome."

"We've got little choice with our kits being pals now, I think." Eraline chortled and reached out to pull Tai to her. She gave him a brief hug. "Good morning, baby. Still sleepy, huh?"

Tai nodded sullenly. Actually, he just didn't want to be leaving. Couldn't his mom just stay over too?

"Good, because I'm gonna need a long nap." Eraline directed her beautiful, if worn-out, smile back to Robert. "I'll see you soon, then?"

"I hope so. Sleep tight, both of you." Robert returned the smile. After a moment, it seemed to waver. "... Take care of yourself."

"You too."

Tai once again thanked his new friend's father, and he and his mother returned to their own residence and their own beds for a few more hours before getting back up. Or at least Tai did.

His mother slept the entire day, leaving him alone, bored and unfed.

The unmarked gray corridor seemed to be endless, and Tai stumbled, breathless, into the dull wall. He clutched at his chest, struggling to fill his lungs. His legs felt heavy, like lead, and he was weak over all; he couldn't keep up.

"Come on, Tai!" said Mike's voice. Tai looked down at his friend, running further down the corridor without even pausing. He had the grace to at least look back.

Whimpering lowly, Tai forced himself to keep jogging. "W-wait! Please!" he pleaded, frightened for some reason he could not recall.

He was dreaming. But he was just a very young fox; he did not even know it was a dream. It was so real! He wasn't going to wake up from it... this was truth, and he was afraid.

Afraid of being left behind.

"No!" Tai yelled as Mike, laughing, took a corner at a sprint. He hauled himself to the corner, willing himself to run as fast as he could, still much slower than the older, athletic boy had been.

He collapsed against the wall again, grabbing the edge and pulling himself around the corner. He felt like he'd been running for hours; so heavy, so weak.

Around the corner, his legs shook and he fell to his hands and knees.

"What's wrong with you?" demanded a familiar female voice. He didn't have to look up to see who it belonged to, but did anyway. Eraline was frowning down at her son, disappointment and even disgust on her features. Standing beside her was Mike, leaning affectionately against his father's hip. He looked down at his friend too and shrugged.

"Whaddaya expect," he said offhandedly, "from Tai? He's a bit of a loser."

Tai gasped, looking up at his best friend in horror. "N-no!" he blurted half-heartedly. It hurt so much, just hearing that from him. "I'm not!" He sobbed, shaking his head violently.

Now it was Robert's turn to speak. He shook his head in pity, squeezing his son's shoulder. "Acting like that doesn't help..." he said quietly.

"Yeah," added Mike, not even looking down anymore. "It's just annoying."

Tai struggled to get to his feet, but he felt just too weak. He couldn't even run from this horrific scenario.

"Oh, look!" chirped Eraline suddenly. "It's one of your school friends! Don't be so rude, Tai! Say hello." Tai blinked in surprise and turned...

Darron was suddenly there, with a wild expression and his cruel looking knife raised above Tai's shocked face, held tightly in an ice-pick grip. "Hey there, fag," he said calmly, before bringing the knife down violently.

Everything whited out in the instant before the knife could hit him, and suddenly it felt like he had been plunged into the dark sea he hated so much. Soon, the dull-gray surface of an unfamiliar ceiling was all he could see.

Tai's own screaming had jerked him free of the nightmare, and he sat up immediately in his oversized, empty bed, hurling the covers to the floor. He clutched at his chest-- it felt like something was trying to burst out of it. His heartbeat thumped loudly in his ears, he could feel his pulse throbbing in his mind somehow, and his entire body tingled unpleasantly. As per what usually happened after a nightmare, his senses seemed clouded, perception just beginning to return to him as he still fought to tear himself from the dream.

A powerful sensation of swaying vertigo kept him incredibly dizzy.

Under his fur, he felt sweat, clammy and disgusting, clinging to his body.

He whimpered, looking around blindly in the darkness. Unwilling to stay in the dark any longer, he scrambled to his feet, ignoring the dull ache in his damaged ankle, and hit the light switch, the illumination searing his tear-blurred eyes.

Nightmares and bad dreams were nothing new to Tai. In fact, they were common, but this one was so strange. Normally he was running from some- often unseen- threat that he was convinced was trying to kill him, but this was something totally different. Much scarier, even before the delinquent wolf tried to stab him, in a very different way.

Tai sank to the floor, sniffling quietly and covering his eyes. He even felt a little sick.

He cast a glance at the room door, knowing how unlikely it was that his mother would come through it to comfort him, but he hoped she'd heard anyway. Maybe she'd come in to make him feel better...

She didn't.

He bowed his head and sighed. Then he tensed his paws into fists. "That's not true," he whispered shakily to himself. "They don't think that! Th-they don't."

So then why was he dreaming it?

It was quiet around the Donaldson apartment, now that Mike's latest friend had gone home two days ago, and Robert felt that things were kind of dull with all back to normalcy again as he sat in the leather couch in his modern, bright den. Even he missed the quiet little kit from upstairs.

Mike walked in, looking a little dejected and more than a little bored. "Hey, dad..." he said, without much vigor.

"Hey, Mike," Robert replied, looking up from his newspaper. "What's happening?"

"Not much."

The grownup shifted in his chair. "Just so you know, I have to go out tomorrow evening. If I make you dinner before I leave, will you be alright after practice?"

"Yup." Mike shuffled his paws, something clearly on his mind. "Um, a-anything interesting in the newspaper?"

Adjusting his glasses, Robert looked down again. "Not particularly. This family-values idiot here says here that kids are behaving more and more condescendingly to their parents nowadays."

"Well, no duh dad," Mike retorted with a completely straight face.

His father eyed him impassively.

"Want some help with that crossword?" Mike added.

"You know," Robert finally said, narrowing his eyes, "if this is what you're like now, I'm dreading your teenage years."

Mike smiled. "I'll be good." Then that smile disappeared and Mike's expression became sad. "Dad, can I talk to you?"

"Of course." Robert put his paper aside and motioned for his son to sit on his lap, which the barky-furred vulpine boy did. "What is it?"

"Well," the pup began, looking very thoughtful. "Tai said to me that all his friends have left him. When he left, he said he thinks our friendship would be the same."

"He's one pessimistic little boy, isn't he?" mused Robert.

"I don't know. Is he?"

"He might be right, maybe it's happened to him before. You never know how things can change, Mike. Friends drift apart over time."

"Yeah, but what if you don't want it to happen?" Mike demanded, hugging his father tightly. "What if you don't want to lose a friend? Aren't friends supposed to be special?"

"Some are. But sometimes... it can be hard." Robert brushed his son's ears. "You might have to keep working on it all the time; it won't always come naturally. Someday, you may even regret you had Tai for a friend. Who knows? Of course, I don't. You've only just met Tai after all."

"You mean, I might lose him as a friend?" Mike asked. His father nodded. "... I don't think that'll happen."

"I know. But who can tell the future? You never can. You just have to be ready for it, and handle it as best you can. Hopefully, you won't be alone when things go wrong, and someone will be there for you."

Mike sighed sadly. "Life sucks."

"I don't think so," Robert told his cub gently. "There are good things in life. For instance, all the fun you just had with Tai recently. It's just, well, you two are only kits - you have a long road ahead. And I don't think anything is as unpredictable as friendship; or relationships in general. In a month, you two could hate each other for some silly, trivial reason. In half a century, you might still be best friends."

"I don't want to think about that. In half a century, you probably won't be around any more..."

"And when I do finally piss off, I'll know I'd left behind a wonderful boy of whom I'm incredibly proud. Yeah, life can suck, occasionally. Most of the time, if you know what you're doing and have the advantages we have, however..." he left it hanging for a second. "You can change a lot, Mike. Not everything is out of your control."

Mike said nothing for a whole minute, and then he chuckled dryly. "I'm glad I'm your son, and not anyone else's."

"I'm glad too," sighed Robert, cradling the melancholy kit in his arms. "But that's why you don't need to worry. You're the sweetest kit in the whole world, and you'll make friends as you go along. You have a good chance of keeping them, too. As for Tai... time will tell." Robert squeezed his son gently. "You really like him, don't you?"

The brown furred pup snorted a little laugh. "Yeah." There was another lengthy pause before Mike elaborated. "I like how he listens to me and knows what I mean. He's smart and can be fun without doing anything dumb."

"You like having someone near your own age that understands you?" Robert smiled knowingly. That was always Mike's problem with getting close to kits his own age. He always complained they were dumb or irritating, even if he seemed to get along fine with them. It made sense he'd want a friend that could engage him so well. Even if, ironically, that friend turned out to be younger than him.

"Wish he wouldn't say stuff like that though," Mike admitted, referring to what started this conversation in the first place. "And he's so shy. He acts like everyone is going to hate him if he says anything wrong. It's annoying."

"Maybe that's what he's used to."

"Why?"

Robert shook his head. "Kits at school can be very mean sometimes, Mike. I think Tai was badly bullied."

"...Oh. He said something about that."

Robert hesitated a moment. "Well, I think they were most likely kits your age, actually," he elaborated. "Bigger boys. Stronger than him."

Mike froze for a second. "Oh," he muttered sourly. "That's why he was so scared of me the first time we met, I guess."

"Be careful with him, Mike," warned Robert, deadly serious. "You don't want to hurt him. It might be hard to deal with him sometimes."

"That just makes me want to be his friend even more, dad." The boy's face was steely with determination. "He needs a friend more than I do."

The next morning, Tai was up almost at the crack of dawn, his lonely bed cold and boring.

However, he had absolutely nothing to do while convalescing, and could only lounge around his generously sized bedroom alone. He considered making the short trip down the corridor and traversing a few flights of stairs to Mike's apartment, but after spending so much time there he was unsure whether he should. Though both Mike and his dad had said he was welcome, Tai knew Mike had home lessons and Robert had a job too. Which did beg the question of what Mike did when his dad was at work, but until he knew for sure he was welcome around there at those points, Tai wasn't going to risk it.

Bored as he was, he definitely didn't want to head back to school now, though he likely could manage it. His ankle still throbbed when he put weight on it, but at least he could walk with an almost normal gait without the aid of his crutch. He'd figured that his new school was considerably worse than normal, but that was little comfort - he still never wanted to return.

When restlessness got the better of him at last, Tai made his way to the kitchen, to pour himself a drink. On the way, his mother emerged from her own doorway, yawning widely and looking terrible. She nearly bowled the little kit over but for him nimbly leaping aside, and she immediately berated him. "Look out, Tai!" she grumbled, as if he'd been at fault and not her.

With a flicker of irritation, Tai didn't apologize or even say good morning, just continued on his way. When they were both in the kitchen, Tai looking for the milk and Eraline flicking on the kettle, there was a kind of strained silence. Tai knew that, normally, his mother would take him to task for 'his attitude' there, but she seemed too tired to really notice it.

Pulling the milk out and pouring himself a generous glassful, Tai's brow furrowed in thought. His mother hadn't asked him anything about why his left foot was currently wrapped in stiff, tight bandaging. Did she already know or just not care?

His mother's apathy was another not-new thing this morning, however, and he decided not to give it any thought.

Quite suddenly, she spoke to him. "What did you eat at Mr. Donaldson's house?" she asked, not looking away from her cup.

"Chinese curry," Tai replied quietly, taking a sip of his milk.

"Did you thank Mr. Donaldson for everything?"

Again the flicker of irritation. Of course he'd said thank you! "Yeah."

Eraline stirred her coffee and walked over to her boy, warmly ruffling his head-fur and rubbing an ear. "Good," she said, and Tai forgave her almost instantly. Mostly.

"You aren't going out again tonight, are you?" he asked, setting down his milk.

Eraline nodded her head and collapsed into the excessively soft sofa and stared listlessly at the blank screen of the TV. "Yes, but not all night," she said wearily, cradling her coffee. "I couldn't handle another night shift. I won't be out long, I promise." Her ears seemed droopy and her expression was exhausted, maybe even haunted. Tai, remembering his milk, came over to her and sat down beside her, looking worriedly at her.

"Mom?" he asked. "Are you OK?"

"Just tired."

Tai nodded and leaned onto the tired vixen's side, resting his head on her flank. She promptly snagged him in a loose hug. "Sorry," she muttered into his pointed little ear. "I missed you. Sorry for being away for so long."

"It's alright mom, I met a new friend while you were away."

"I know. Mike, wasn't it?"

Tai suddenly realized that he still had many questions, but he couldn't bring himself to ask his worn-out mom. She just looked so tired. He didn't want to bug her. She'd never answer anyway, all it'd do is upset both of them.

Eventually, Tai got back up and wandered back to his room, leaving his mother to stretch out on the sofa and fall asleep again. He couldn't wake her up when she was this exhausted, but once again he had nothing to do.

He sat cross-legged on his bed, looking miserably down the spines of the books on his finally re-stocked bookshelf; he'd read them all already and they were old, intended for a much younger kit. He drained the last of his milk, fell backwards onto the bed and amused himself for a while trying to balance the empty tumbler on his chest.

With a sigh he closed his eyes and resigned himself to boredom.

He had an idea then, placing the tumbler on his bedside cabinet and pulling his t-shirt over his head.

Tai lay back again with closed eyes and placed a paw on his exposed lower belly, slowly sliding it down through his fur, under his shorts' waist-band. He curled the paw around the warm, sensitive package, enveloping his soft shaft tightly.

It hardened slowly with almost no encouragement, Tai's heart-rate increasing alongside it. He'd not done this for a little while, and Mike had shown him there was a prize waiting at the end if you do it right. Maybe it was time he experienced it again; not like he was busy.

He pulled the foreskin back slowly, the skin slipping over the head quite easily and sending a shiver down his spine. The shiver only got worse when he gently rubbed the tip with his fingers, but that was alright. The fox pup liked that shiver.

The small paw began to move up and down the entire shaft, taking it to its maximum level of stiffness.

Tai mewled and gasped, moving his legs apart. It felt very nice, but he sped up the movement to make it even better.

As it always did, his other paw came to land on his chest, running through his own silky smooth, warm fluff. It eventually brushed over his small right nipple and he shuddered. He started to rub over it, the thing stiffing just like his privates had.

It took him some time at this leisurely, sensual pace, but eventually his features screwed up and his body tensed, the climax approaching suddenly.

"Uhhnnhhh..." he breathed in a strained voice, wriggling and curling his toes. Orgasm shook his little body, and he fought to keep a loud gasp inside him. The sensation still making his skin tingle, he flattened out on the bed, tired, the world around him unfocused. It had been such an intense sensation, but not quite as intense as when Mike gave it to him.

It didn't last long, but when he finally sat up again, he felt relaxed, refreshed and cheerful.

"Why didn't anyone tell me about this?" he asked himself dreamily, stroking the little member once more.

It was still stiff. Maybe he could go again...?

It stank. The apartment hadn't been cleaned in a little while, nor had its occupant. A middle aged ferret lounged indolently on the sofa, his small eyes empty. Garbed in simple, unwashed street clothing, he stared motionlessly at his reluctant guest. Keeping his paws concealed in his jacket.

Across the room stood a powerfully built, though still young, wolf whose expression indicated very firmly he didn't want to be here. They'd been staring at one another for minutes now. This was a very uncomfortable meeting, and the wolf was almost sure the guy he was 'talking' to wasn't all there upstairs.

But he'd been useful before. Maybe he could be useful again.

"Well?" The young wolf grumbled. "Are you clear on what you're s'posed to do?"

The ferret didn't even blink, sitting motionless for a few moments before answering. "Yes," he said, sitting forwards. "Tell your father I don't appreciate him sending furs I don't know directly to my home, even if it's his son."

"What, you think I wanted to come here?" sneered the young lupine. "He was too busy to come himself, that's all."

The beady dark eyes scanned the small photograph once again. Face unreadable. "So... it was you who saw her?" he asked softly.

"Right. At the docks."

"Alright. What about the-?"

"I don't give a fuck about him," lied the wolf immediately. "But maybe. There's a better option than him anyway, probably doesn't know a thing. Whatever you feel like."

Suddenly, the scraggly ferret chuckled. "I see."

"Is it a problem for you?"

"Yes. But I've done worse." He stood and shucked off his disgusting jacket. He headed towards the back of the apartment. "Let yourself out. I'm going to shower."

"You fuckin' need one."

"It'll be done soon."

"Sometime this week. Can't pass this shit up."

"Sooner."

The wolf said nothing, just walked out the door briskly, desperate to get away from the ungodly stench. When he shut the door he fell against it, gasping for air. "What the fuck is wrong with that guy?"

Another day passed, bringing some light rain to the streets of New York.

Tai stared blankly at the ceiling, picking up and dropping a small plastic toy onto his belly again and again as he stretched out on his bed. Finally, he flung the model ninja to the side, letting it hit the floor with a carpet-muffled thud to join the other toys he'd discarded over the afternoon.

He didn't feel like playing with toys. One by one he'd taken something out of his little suitcase only to be bored with it within a minute.

He wondered what Mike was doing; thought about how much he'd like to be playing with him right now. Talking with him. Listening to him make dry jokes and playful comments.

What was going on? Tai knew he never used to feel like this... he always used to be able to entertain himself, to be happy by himself. Being alone sucked, but boredom itself was never a problem. Was it because he couldn't bring himself to go for a walk in this strange city? Was he sick of his toys?

His eyes started to sting and he drew the back of his paw across his eyes, sniffling while tears started to slowly blur his vision.

At last, he realized the truth. "I'm lonely..." he said quietly.

And he was. He wanted so much to spend time with someone right now. Mike, Jake, his own mom, Robert... anybody! He wanted to talk to them, to play with them, to touch them... someone. He was so lonely it hurt and he couldn't relax.

It had been just less than a week before thathe'd been sleeping in the same bed as another young fox pup, and the cold, boring solitude of his own bedroom was already unbearable. Yet, at the same time, he was desperately fighting the compulsion to spring to his paws and bolt upstairs to Mike's apartment.

Tai restively sat up on his bed, staring blankly at the space between his legs. The bed clothes he had seen on the first day in the apartment were still there - black nylon sheets with gray and white pillowcases. The bed felt totally alien to him... it was massive, sure, but it just wasn't a young boy's bed. It felt so bleak and boring.

With a sigh he looked around his room. The walls were creamy white, and adorned with nothing aside from the polished wooden clock, with its indecipherable, formal-looking roman numerals. Aside from the bed all there was in the room was the oak bed-side table. There was nothing; no warmth or personality at all. At least not to Tai.

He longed to decorate it somehow. To give it some... to make it like Mike's room! It didn't need to be big and have a huge bed in it that dwarfed the little kit sleeping in it...

But that couldn't happen, because aside from his old bed-clothes, now too small for this gigantic bed, he didn't have anything. His mother never bothered getting him any of that sort of stuff, and to be fair, he never asked. For some reason, he was only noticing it now, but it was suddenly such a big deal!

Yet he didn't want it to be!

"Uhhnn..." he moaned, getting to his feet sullenly. Maybe he could go watch television; it was only four in the evening after all.

He paused. Mike had a television in his room, and he even had that Gamestation thing there too. Maybe his mom would get him one? Let him keep it in his room like Mike did. But how much did one of them cost? Could his mom afford it? Would she buy it for him? She did seem to have a lot more money all of a sudden... but why should she spend it all on him?

What was going on? He stopped and chewed his bottom lip. Something was wrong. Why was his mom telling him so little? Why was she away so often? Where did the money come from and... well, his mom didn't buy stuff for him often, but she hadn't gotten him anything at all recently.

He huffed and sat back down.

Today sucked.

It all sucked.

And he didn't even know why.

Chapter 7

Mike flopped onto the soft sofa, holding the cordless phone to his furry ear. "Come on, come on..." he muttered impatiently at the device as it rang on and on.

It was rare that he had reason to use the phone to contact his friends, and he always jumped on the chance whenever he could.

Soon, he heard a voice speak, and it was exactly who he wanted. "Hello?" it said.

Mike grinned. "Hey Ciaran!" he said brightly, shifting slightly on the sofa. "I got your invitation."

"Oh, hey Mikey! Cool! Can you come?"

"Yep, of course!" Mike chuckled. "I don't know what you want for a birthday present though."

"Whatever you like," responded Ciaran. "Mom and dad are getting me a new computer and that's what I've been wanting all year."

"Oh, I'll ask dad if we can get you a game or something." Mike paused, remember what happened last time he requested a certain game from his father. "A not-expensive one."

"Like they exist. New games are reeeaally expensive. Oh, hey, did you wanna pass on the invitation to the kit who came with you to the faire?"

"Tai?"

"Yeah! The one with the weird name. He won't be the only one his age, my cousins are coming, and besides he got along fine with everyone at the faire."

"Sure, I'll try... he's a bit shy, so I don't know if he'll come for sure," Mike said worriedly. "I haven't seen him for a little while though. Not since he went home."

"Huh? Doesn't he live in the same building?"

"Uh-huh. Not on the same level though, and whenever I've gone out I haven't seen him or his mom."

"How about you go around to his place and invite him to my party?"

"Sure. He'll love that."

The voice over the phone sounded concerned all of a sudden. "Why hasn't he spoken to you since he left? Is he okay?"

Mike frowned. "I don't know. Maybe his mom just won't let him come over here. I don't know."

"Well," Ciaran said softly, "maybe he ran into those psychos who tried to stab him again."

"I don't think so, but... oh man, you could be right." Mike bit his lower lip. "I hope not."

"Me too. I guess you'll know soon, right?"

"Yeah. I'll go talk to dad. I'll call you back later!"

"Alright! Peace!"

"See ya." Mike pressed the cancel button, hopped up and placed the phone back where it belonged before skipping to his father's study. He knocked on the door, and came in without waiting for a response, as was customary. His dad was at the computer.

Robert closed the window of whatever it was he was working on at the time, revealing his latest 'wallpaper': a picture of Mike at his tenth birthday party at a bowling alley. "What's up, Mike?" he asked, turning his swiveling chair around slightly.

The brown-furred cub skipped up to his dad and leaned on his chair. "Ciaran's getting a new computer for his birthday, and I said we might get him a video game for it."

Robert raised an eyebrow at his son. "You want me to pay fifty bucks for a birthday present?" he inquired.

"Well... some games are cheaper than that, dad! Like, thirty bucks." Mike shrugged. "It was just an idea."

"I guess I'll see about it. We can go to the store tomorrow, maybe."

"Oh, and dad?"

"Hm?"

"Is it bad that Tai hasn't come by since he left?"

The grown up chortled. "I don't think so, Mike. You go weeks without seeing your friends, after all."

"But Tai lives in the same building," Mike pointed out. He refrained from pointing out that his relationship with Tai was also more special to him than any of his other friendships. "And going so long without seeing friends is boring. It's because I have to, not cause I want to."

"Hrm..." Robert frowned and eyed his son for a few moments. "Well, Tai is alright. I spoke to his mom not long ago. She was tired still, but she said Tai's still in the apartment with her and she didn't give any signs that he was abducted by aliens or anything. Or... are you worried about something else?"

"Something else."

The adult nodded. "I don't know. I doubt it's what you're worried about. He probably doesn't want to outstay his welcome, or get on our nerves. Remember, he's a much shyer boy than he appears sometimes. Though I don't think he's got a problem with you." He grinned. "He certainly didn't have a problem with you while he was sleeping naked in your bed with you."

Mike flushed and his heart skipped. "Ah, I guess." He pressed on. "Maybe that's why he's not come by."

"Go there yourself, tomorrow," Robert advised his son. "Let him know you like having him around. Go to his apartment again instead of having him around here." He frowned. "Though if his mom is too tired, try to bring him back here. Ask her. She might appreciate the peace and quiet."

"You don't mind him being here, do you?"

"Nope."

"Really?"

"Of course. He's a good kit. A very smart boy." Robert leaned back to get comfortable on his computer chair. "Very eloquent."

"Eloquent?"

"Good with words. Articulate. Maybe as good as you were at his age."

"Better," Mike said immediately.

"I don't know about that." Robert shrugged honestly. His son was a confusing creature sometimes. He could be toweringly modest, judging his own capabilities fairly, at times, but was certainly capable of looking down his nose at less educated kits - the ones he considered stupid. That was probably a habit he needed to nip in the bud. As far as Robert was concerned, it wasn't the fault of the other kids after all.

Mike frowned. "Maybe I should go around to his place right now..."

Robert shook his head. "No, Mike, don't be silly. It's eight at night. You've got bed soon."

Mike shot his dad his well-practiced puppy look. "Do I have to?"

"Yes. You're not going down to Tai's place so late at night when you had all day to do it."

"But dad, I just want to see if he's okay! I've got to pass on the invitation to Ciaran's party to him anyway!"

Smiling, Robert shook his head again. "Sorry Mike, but no. Remember Tai would likely have an earlier bed time than you, so he's probably already asleep. His mom wouldn't forgive us if you woke anybody up."

Suddenly Mike cocked his head curiously at his father. "What do you think of his mom?"

"Wha-?" Robert blinked, taken totally by surprise. "How do you mean?"

"Nothing!" Mike blurted, looking a little taken aback himself. "Okay, I'll wait until tomorrow, I guess."

The kit made to leave, but Robert stopped him. "Wait a second..." he said, frowning at his son thoughtfully.

Mike stopped and bit his lip nervously. "I, um, was just wondering."

His son had never even met Eraline. Robert wasn't an idiot...

"Give me a hug before you go to bed, alright?" he said, keeping a lid on his suddenly welling emotions, but only barely. Mike came over and hugged his father tightly, feeling only slightly winded when his father squeezed him a little.

"Glak!" he exaggerated, smiling when he pulled away. "Good night dad."

When Mike left and closed the door behind him, Robert closed his eyes. Unbelievable, already Mike was thinking about... was Tai thinking the same thing?!

The scars were small, Robert supposed, but they were still sore. It wasn't all that surprising.

His were no better.

Tai upended his small suitcase, and the cascade of detritus splashed onto the bed covers. He placed the container down on the ground and sat next to the mess, cross legged. He'd cut off the cast and removed some of the bandaging on his injured ankle; the doctor had told him to ask his mother to remove it when he felt he could walk well enough, but he didn't want to bother her, and the heavy plaster was beginning to annoy him.

He yawned and started to dig around in the pile. There was more unpacking to do, and he had nothing else to occupy him.

Rummaging around for a moment, he found a small green folder with his scraggly handwriting on the front. It was just his own name... well, the first name, anyway. His second name still gave him problems. It was his schoolwork folder; a simple green plastic folio that was held closed over by an elastic cord that snagged on a plastic node.

His mom had helped him put it together. It held just about all his worksheets and results of various other activities from the last year or so of school, in order to quickly show where he stood to his new teacher. It sounded like a good idea, and it had been fun to organize all the sheets. Not that he or his mom had remembered to take it to school on the first day... though that turned out to be probably for the better.

He opened it and pulled out some of the papers.

A poem he wrote about apples, on an appropriately shaped cardboard cutout, colored vivid green. Like most of his schoolwork, he'd almost forgotten about it, but seeing it again brought a weird feeling with it.

There was a little purple star on it, next to a nigh indecipherable blurb in red pen. He gripped the cardboard tightly and scraped at the little sticker, then inhaled. Lavender or something.

He looked down at the silly object forlornly. He'd worked so hard on this, and some of the other things in the folio. The teacher had even complimented him on this and some other things he'd done in here--that didn't happen often. He didn't think he was a smart kid, and he rarely put much heart into his schoolwork, but those things he did, he was proud of.

Or he had been. Now it didn't mean anything. He had to start all over again.

He sighed, but couldn't bring himself to stuff the folio away yet. So the kit kept flicking through the documents.

His second grade reader was in there, underneath a neatly colored picture of the solar system. It was as much a reading book as an activity book, so as he flipped to the middle of it, he was greeted by both the printed text and his own less than impressive handwriting.

He devoured three pages in short order, and soon grew bored of the story he'd read before, and looked at his answers to the questions in the back. The questions seemed so easy, and his answers were half-hearted, though correct. He remembered how much he'd rather be reading on than writing about what he'd just read.

Tai closed the book and looked at the cover miserably.

Second grade... he'd already done it. He was nearly nine years old, and he'd done the second grade almost twice, with only the last few months or so of this attempt to go. It had been mortally embarrassing the first time, and he'd kept it a secret as best he could. It lasted maybe three weeks of the school year before it became common knowledge, but at least he thought it was nearly over now. They'd moved away. He'd be moving on to the next grade, with no one to know his mortifying secret.

Or so he had thought. Tai remembered overhearing his mom on the phone only a few weeks ago as she discussed him being held back before they made this move. Again.

It brought him to tears just hearing it. He should be in the third grade, and in a few months looking forward to fourth. Not this. Though she hadn't yet spoken to him about it, he knew it was coming.

He dropped the booklet to the side and felt his eyes sting. Why did she never ask him what he wanted? He didn't want to be kept back. To do everything he'd already done another damn time! What was so wrong with him being in third grade where he belonged?

School was something he wanted to leave behind. Especially now. His new school was so big, daunting and unfriendly to the shy pup. Multiple storey buildings, concrete and paving where there should be grass and even more other kits to have to avoid. He was aware that most others didn't mind it, but every weekday morning was like some kind of inevitable torture for him, and had been since he'd started it.

Nobody leaving him alone. Everybody looking at him. Teasing him. Thinking how pathetic and scrawny he was. Bigger boys treating him like trash. Teachers calling him stupid either aloud or silently. Hiding in the library every day reading comics and children's history books because he was scared someone might notice him... he couldn't take much more.

Rather weakly, he pushed the pile of junk off the sheets and onto his bedroom carpet, while he rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling light again.

...Was he stupid? Was he failing some kind of unspoken test? He'd not given it a thought since the move, burying it under more important considerations, but now he wanted to know. It was making him feel like dirt. Was it something to do with how he always got picked on? He'd never heard of other kits being held back three times.

Maybe he could hurt his ankle again somehow. Because the coming school week and the thought of mind-shattering agony in his paw seemed to be about equally appealing prospects.

Eraline felt woozy, sitting on the soft couch in the den. Her sleeping schedule was now back into a more or less natural rhythm, but she was simply tired. Oh, and tipsy. After that last week, she felt she could use a strong drink or two.

Sighing loudly, she found herself wondering. Wondering why she didn't quit, take her son and run to some place far away, where they'd be safe and she wouldn't need to get involved in things like this. Despite being away from her son for days, she was no closer to her goals than she'd been back in Alaska.

She raised the wine glass and drained half of it, looking deep into the hazy warmth of the gas heater.

What was she talking about?! She couldn't leave now. If for no other reason than the fact Tai would hate her forever for it; being uprooted again, sent away from yet more friends. She had to stick to it; at long last, it seemed that at least she could achieve something. Without endangering anyone.

There were other goals besides her job. Besides finishing what was started all those years ago, just for the sakeof closure. There was something else far more important, even if she sometimes forgot that, thatshe had to do. It may not have been the real reason she came here, the one she admitted to herself, but it should have been.

By God, it should have been.

On that note, how auspicious! Tai seemed to get along famously with Robert's son, despite the little age gap. That brought a warmth to her heart she hadn't felt for years, and she smiled just thinking about it.

Eraline didn't know why, but Tai had huge trouble making and keeping friends. She'd suspected he was being bullied at school, but her way of dealing with that was probably not the best. Switching his schools seemingly arbitrarily and not trying to get the clam-shelled Tai to open up to her was probably a bad course of action, but one she'd taken several times now. It was easier for her, and she thought that maybe each move would give her son a chance to start over, but he seemed to resent it; though it was hard to tell what that boy was thinking.

She was scared to find out by now.

Tai had been through several friendships now, all of which ended suddenly and Tai would speak no more of them. She had no idea why it kept happening to her long-haired shy pup, but it worried her. Was it his fault? Theirs?

Hers?

Whatever it was, maybe it wouldn't happen with little Michael. If it did, she'd be able to get answers this time at least.

Answers. She wouldn't mind a few more of those, not at all. It's not like she hadn't been looking for them for years now, with little to be found. Though she hadn't accomplished anything yet, she seemed to at last be able to really try this time. She saw a chance now at least.

Nor did she see anything wrong with a few more glasses of wine, so she stood and walked to her new kitchen. Tonight seemed like as good as any other to spend in a drunken haze.

As she opened the walnut burred cabinet, she tried, as she often did, to plan the coming week. Should she send Tai to school? He'd been attacked by students there; the school had already sent her a letter of profuse apology, but from what she could tell, nobody had said anything official to her son yet. He could walk, but... well, the school was trying to keep her from withdrawing Tai, and they had good reason. Some punks drew a knife on her son, and she wouldn't stand for it. No half-decent mother would. But, Christ, she couldn't pull him from another school... could she?

... What would he want? Would he understand the situation?

Would he tell her if she asked?

Eraline knew she had been running ever since that day four years ago... running away. Perhaps for even longer.For the longest time, she wasn't sure she cared. Coming back here, the bright city lights had given her a startling clarity of thought. Returning to this place had done more for her than anyone or anything else could've done. Now she realized that she cared alright. She had never stopped.

Seeing him again helped, though - she had thought it would hurt, but instead it helped. Helped her face her loss and understand it.

Now she knew she couldn't run from her duties, as a professional or a mother, any more. Too much depended on it. Her son depended on it. It would take a long time to recover fully; even longer to atone for what she had done. So it was time to get started - she had a long way to go.

Without hesitation, she dropped the wine glass in the sink. That was enough of that for tonight. Maybe it was a good idea to discuss the whole situation with Tai. He could probably understand now. It might be a good idea to send him back for the remaining weeks of school, even though she was considering having him repeat again. At the very least, she needed to discuss it with him.

Absently, she stared into the sink as what little wine that had been left in her glass oozed slowly towards the drain as a rivulet of dull red.

Things were going to change. She wouldn't be the same as she had been until now.

Suddenly, the lights fluttered and died, plunging the entire apartment into blackness.

Her heart froze, and she looked immediately out of the window. Streetlights were still on, but more importantly, other apartment buildings nearby seemed fully illuminated.

She crossed the kitchen at a half-run and snatched the cordless phone from its cradle. It lit up but with a message saying "No Signal."

The power had been cut.

A dreadful sinking feeling stirred in her chest. Something was very, very wrong here.

There was a knock on Tai's door, and before he could wake himself fully, it was pushed open. "Tai?" his mother whispered anxiously.

"Huh?" murmured Tai, sitting up. He'd fallen asleep out of pure boredom; he cast a glance immediately in the direction of his window. The sky outside his room was still dark, the only light outside coming from the streetlights. He'd been woken before dawn.

Eraline was standing in the doorway with her long head-fur messily framing her head. "Sorry sweetie," she said. Agitatedly, she cast a glance behind her. "I didn't know where you were and we're having a blackout."

The apartment was indeed pitch-black. Tai swung his legs off his bed and stood, a little wobbly. His ankle was still stiff but now he could stand without any aid--albeit a little wobbly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Eraline said, shaking her head. "Stay in here, alright?" Without another word, she shut the door.

Regardless of what his mother said, something was most definitely wrong - it was plain just from her voice. Tai crept over to the doorway and pressed an ear to it carefully. It was extremely quiet; in fact, all Tai could hear were sounds outside the building, mostly cars. He looked out his window and frowned.

Usually during power cuts, an entire area was affected by it. At least, that had been the case in the village near his last home - their own house had a generator. But the streets outside were bright. Maybe things were different in a city? More circuits or however it worked. He didn't know for sure.

Without knowing why he did it, he cracked open the door and snuck out, trying to feel his way to the living room. His ears perked, and he listened hard, while straining to see what he could in the pitch blackness of the middle of the apartment, where there were no windows.

Judging from the sounds, his mom was in her own room. It sounded like she was rummaging through drawers or maybe suitcases, probably still trying to unpack despite the darkness. She probably had a flashlight.

Entering the living room, Tai blinked in confusion. The front door was slightly ajar, and the light out in the hallway was definitely on. Somehow, their own apartment was the only thing affected by the outage. That was possible, he guessed. Obviously. The proof was right there, unless it was some sort of emergency lighting.

Tai shrugged and decided to close the door. It was unlikely that it'd been left open on purpose, so he crossed the dimly lit hallway to it.

As he reached out for it, he froze. The air around him was suddenly disturbed, and an acrid, stale reek hit his nose. A shadow swung upwards at the edge of his vision.

Before he could cry out, a gloved paw suddenly clamped tight around his muzzle and yanked him backwards.

A cylinder of metal was pressed to the front of his head, and his eyes dilated in terror. Tai knew what a gun was. His scream was greatly muffled by the grip around his muzzle - a grip so tight, the pain briefly paralyzed him.

Suddenly there was a loud "clunk", and he was released, falling to the floor in shock. He looked behind him.

"Tai!" Eraline cried, hefting a thick four-foot wooden curtain rod. "Get out of here! Run! Now!"

She swung again, but the attacker smoothly ducked it and stepped towards her, delivering a punch to the vixen's solar plexus with a sickening report. Eraline choked in pain, but at least managed to avoid the follow up knee by staggering backwards.

The pistol was raised again.

Eraline desperately reached out to push it away, but there was a loud, flat thud and she doubled over. It felt like a sledgehammer had driven something straight into her stomach. "Guh!" She looked over at Tai. "Run!"

Tai, wide eyed in terror, scrambled to his feet and threw the door open, running out into the corridor.

Eraline tried to keep her paws locked around the male's wrists, but he pulled his arms to his chest and stepped away. There was another thud, and Eraline's knees buckled.

"Fuck!" The mask-clad intruder kicked her square in the neck from a standing position, sending her sprawling into the dining table, before turning and dashing out the hall after the escapee.

Tai was screaming, though he wasn't aware of it. His panicked brain eventually realized what had happened. If his mom hadn't showed up at just the right moment, that guy was going to pull the trigger on that thing. Immediately. He had nearly died in the blink of an eye!

What was going on!?

He stopped at the elevator and pressed the button, but nothing lit up on the panel. Looking back to his apartment, he saw the attacker's shape clearly approaching. Wearing a black balaclava, and otherwise normal, dark-colored street-clothing, he was sprinting down the corridor towards his prey at an incredible rate.

Tai wailed, abandoning the elevator and running on down the passage. A fresh burst of agony from his ankle made him stumble into the wall, but, crying loudly, he limped as fast as he could for the emergency stairs.

He shoved at the heavy door to the landing, finally pushing the fire-door aside, but it had cost him valuable seconds. No sooner had he entered the stairwell than a paw seized him by the back of the neck, and thrust him shoulder-first into the wall, mere feet from the stairs. The impact winded him, paralyzed him. The kit was roughly spun around and pinned to the wall by his throat.

The gray cylinder was again pressed to his head, but this time it was warm. "P-please!" Tai choked, his body and mind seizing in fright.

"Sorry kid," said the male, shaking his head. "You were supposed to be sleeping." He began to squeeze the trigger, slowly. The little kit closed his eyes tightly and whimpered, though the sound was nigh inaudible.

There was a loud cry, and Tai winced, expecting a bang. A moment later, he forced his eyes open. There had been none.

"Get the fuck away from my son!" a ringing female voice sounded from behind him.

Tai cracked his eyes open. "M-mom?"

The attacker released Tai, turning around and revealing to the kit that he had a kitchen knife buried in his back. He staggered backwards and accidentally struck Tai with his heavy adult body, sending the fox-boy tumbling down the stairs painfully until he slammed up against the wall at the landing.

Eraline cursed. The stab had missed anything important... she'd been shot twice and her body was trembling violently. She was lucky to have chased them the few dozen meters in the first place.

She seemed to see it in slow motion, but then she was reacting in slow motion too. He tried to raise the gun to her head, to finish off his wounded opponent. Not this time. She knocked the firearm from his pain slackened grip and brought her own arm swinging upwards.

"Gyukh!" her attacker cried out and looked down in surprise. Buried below his ribcage was a small paring knife. Somehow, defying all limits Eraline understood, he stepped forwards and smashed a powerful elbow into her face. She was hurled backwards, her sight whiting out.

Pained but still standing, the wounded murderer turned back to the landing.

Tai whimpered. He was going to finish off the cub before he could run away again!

The masked attacker took a few uneasy steps towards his next victim, withdrawing his own knife from a sheathe concealed in his left sleeve. Just a small, silvery blade. Suddenly he was pitched headlong down the stairs, crying out in shock. Desperately, Eraline had thrown herself at him from the landing, crashing into the assailant from behind.

He hurtled towards Tai, who narrowly dove out the way, spraining his ankle again as he tumbled down the stairway to the next landing. The masked head collided with the wall where Tai had just been. There had been a sickening noise when he hit the wall, and blood splattered from his covered muzzle to seep out from behind the fibers of his mask.

He didn't get up again.

But neither did Eraline.

Tai felt his stomach tighten. "Mom?!" he cried in panic, clambering to his paws.

Eraline crawled off the inert body, her face contorted in agony. There was blood everywhere on her torso, seeping clean through her nylon shirt; thick and red towards her breasts, but thicker still and a brownish color lower down. As she moved, it dripped and smeared over the concrete. "Ah!" she yelled, falling down a step. Eyes pinched shut in agony, she clutched at the bleeding wound in her lower belly.

Tai darted towards her. "Mom?!" he asked, kneeling by her. "Are you alright?"

Eraline opened her eyes and tried to sit, but the pain was far too much. "T-Tai?" she reversed, breathing hard. "Are you hurt?"

"No! But- but you are!"

She looked down and grimaced. "I know... unh!" She struggled so she was looking up at her little boy from her back.

"A-are you going to be ok?" Tai fretted, his hands quivering violently. "S-someone help! Help! Please!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. He could hear doors opening in the corridor-- finally.

Eraline reached out and laid a paw on Tai's white-furred cheek. "Shh... I-I knew this could happen," she said sadly, her voice and breathing choppy. "It always could. I... I'm sorry..." Her paw slid down the kit's face, smearing viscous blood over his fur. Tai's smaller paws shot up and caught hers before it could fall.

"Wh-what?" asked, bursting into tears. "Why are you sorry?"

"F-for being a bad mommy," Eraline said weakly. "I was... never there for you, Tai... I'm sorry. I betrayed you more than you know."

"N-n-no!" Tai sobbed at her. He hugged her arm fiercely. "You're not a bad mom."

"Tai... Tai honey?"

"Y-yeah mom?"

"Talk to... hnn! Ask Robert..." she breathed. Her eyes became unfocused. "Tai...?"

"M-mom? A-are you hurt? I mean..."

She smiled at him, looking blearily into his eyes. "You're... so much like him," she whispered, clutching her boy's paw with her own. "Your father. You have his eyes for sure... look like leaves. That's what got me first..." Her smile widened yet her eyes closed slightly. "I love you. I do."

"...Mom?" Tai began to tremble. He released the arm; it fell limply onto Eraline's chest as he shook her by the shoulders. "Mom! Mom!!

"MOOOOOOM!"

"Come on, honey," the nurse said briskly, ushering Tai out of the surgery room. "We need you out of here."

"B-but she's my mom!" he protested, trying to turn back, but the nurse brusquely shoved him out. "Is she gonna be okay?" he yelled through the door.

There was no reply.

Tai ran around to a glass panel looking in; at least they weren't stopping him from doing that. The nurses and doctors were frantically moving all around his mother, who was laid out on a table of some kind, fetching syringes, plastic tubules and various other paraphernalia Tai had no names for. Heart in mouth, the little kit stared in dismay at the unfathomable scene, paws and face pressed right up to the glass. He was pushing on the glass as if it would finally break and let him back in. Where he belonged.

He tried to follow the activity, but it was like watching bees in a hive. They were all moving so quickly, with such purpose, yet in what seemed to be a chaotic fashion. Once again, he had no idea what was going on.

All Tai could see was red. Blood. Everywhere. It stood out with such sickening contrast against the sterile metal, the white gloves and the peculiarly green clothing.

One of the machines was issuing a steady beeping, a low tone. It suddenly started beeping faster, out of rhythm.

"Get those paddles here!" urgently barked the doctor, seemingly a fennec, as he darted to the vixen's I.V. tube to stick a needle into the feed.

"We can't stop this bleeding!" cried another white-masked wearing fur. "Look at this, she's liver-shot."

"Someone get the damn paddles! We're going to try."

"Yes doctor!"

Tai stared, eyes watering painfully. He had no idea what was going on, but he did know that it had to be something very bad. "Oh, please!" he blubbered to himself, listening intently.

"Dammit!" shouted the doctor, glaring at the monitor. "Get a move on!"

"It's not going to happen," a surgeon said softly, reaching out to grasp his colleague's shoulder. "We can't stop the bleeding. She's liver-shot."

Suddenly, the beeping ceased. It became a dull, lifeless monotone. The fennec doctor gritted his teeth together, before slumping slightly. He looked like he was about to cry himself. "Time of death," he intoned soullessly, "twenty-three sixteen. God damn it."

"Mom?" Tai whispered when he saw the doctor sag in defeat. "No. No!" He banged the glass with his tiny paws and shrieked, and shrieked at the doctors. Inside the room, no one could bear looking at the child outside. His voice was far away and muffled, but they could hear what he was saying easily.

"You can't give up!!" The fox boy was screaming, reddened eyes cascading tears. "You can't! No, don't stop!!" He slammed the glass again, hurting his wrists. He leaned back and smashed straight into the panel again. The barrier barely moved. "MOM!!"

A middle aged nurse - a badger - swiftly came up behind him and laid a restraining hand on his shoulder. "Honey, you'll hurt yourself!" she warned, pulling him away from the reinforced glass.

The nurse had performed this unenviable duty before, and it was possibly those years of experience - coupled with some innate intuition - that alerted her at the last second. The way the kit's muscles tensed, the near imperceptible lowering of the ears... even so, she narrowly missed having her fingers bitten off as he uncoiled with sudden animalistic violence, snapping at her fingers and quickly swatting her arm away. She withdrew, startled, and Tai ran off. He slammed right into the door of the operating theater, his vision tear-blurred and head swimming, struggling with the simple handle before shoving the heavy door open.

He hadn't seen his mother's injuries properly before, but now, bursting into the midst of the surprised doctors and nurses, he was faced with the horrifying image.

Eraline's eyes were closed, a mockery of sleep, and her chest unmoving. Her clothes had been cut open from the collar to the bottom, revealing her breasts and stomach so the doctors could make their futile attempt to save her life; her soft, cotton-like fur stained a horrible red with the unstoppable flow of blood that had poured from the penny-sized round gash just below her left breast. The other hole was even more gruesome, with the blood caked upon her fur a far darker color.

The visage burned its way into Tai's eyes and incised itself forever into his mind... he felt something inside him plunge from his chest all the way deep down into the pit of his stomach. His breathing stopped, his eyes widened and he began to shake uncontrollably; a violent palsy that racked his body.

A broken-hearted wail suddenly rose within him, increasing in volume and intensity until it became a hysterical screech. Unthinkingly, he reached out and grabbed the body of his mother - the skin beneath the fur feeling cold and clammy already - shaking it, clutching at it as he laid his face on her stomach...

The screech gave way to incoherent cries of denial, demanding it to be a lie, a dream. Demanding that his mom wake up. Hiccups hurt his chest and exhaustion buckled his knees, until his weight was only supported by the dead vixen he lay on.

He felt large paws gripping him all of a sudden, male paws; orderlies or nurses, he couldn't tell which or bring himself to care. His hysteria was reaching a crescendo and nothing made sense. Nothing mattered; all the little fox kit wanted was his mother. That was all! Why weren't they leaving him alone?! Why were they grabbing him?! He naturally fought back; kicking, punching, biting, clawing... he fought with the madness that had gripped him plainly evident on his face and in his strangled cries.

"Kid, if you don't calm down we'll have to restrain you!" an orderly warned him callously, getting a firm grasp of both his paws and pinioning them by his side. Tai continued to struggle, narrowly missing with a head-butt to the adult's nose; if it had connected it surely would've broken a muzzle.

In the end they didn't have to do anything. In between his bawling, screaming and kicking, Tai lost his energy. After a brief ten seconds or so of being held in the orderly's unbreakable grip, the kit suddenly went limp. He felt himself being picked off the ground. He cried loudly all the while as they took him into a quiet room, trying to tell himself that it couldn't be real...

The nurse that had initially tried to restrain Tai earlier walked up to him. Her eyes were filled with sympathy, but Tai didn't care. For her part, the nurse was discomfited by the pup's wide eyed stare into middle distance. He looked utterly haunted and drained; and he had every right to be, she knew. This wasn't her job. She had consoled family members before, but never a child. She didn't know what to say.

"Tai, isn't it?" she said softly. "Baby, it's twelve thirty. Way past your bedtime, huh?" No response from the cub. "Umm, we called some of your, um, neighbors to come pick you up. They'll be here soon, Tai. Would you like a drink of something until then?"

Tai's lips moved almost imperceptibly as he whispered, "Yes..."

"Okay," the nurse replied. "Would you like a hot chocolate? Or water?"

Tai nodded.

"Was that for the water?"

He shook his head.

"The hot chocolate?"

He nodded again.

Without another word, the nurse went silently to retrieve the beverage.

Tai didn't want to be rude. He never did. He just wasn't paying attention. He couldn't.

Everything was just a haze, and he felt so strange. Like he wasn't really where he was; detached, like it was all a dream. So disoriented - absolutely drained by the fear, the emotions... the disbelief. But one thing was somehow real to him.

Because he had felt it all before. The dissociation. The confusion. The complete exhaustion that threatened to make him too tired to even feel sad, but never gave him that mercy... All while telling himself over and over it wasn't true, but it never made a difference.

First his father, now his mom was gone.

Her silver laugh, her warm touch, the way she used to blow raspberries on his tummy... never again. How could he believe she'd never so much as smile at him again? Never laugh with, talk to, touch, scold, comfort, hold...

He broke down for the third time that night, sobs racking his entire body as he slithered out of the chair into a fetal position on the floor. He lay there, crying, a ball of despairing, neglected fluff on the linoleum floor. He pawed at the ground, bit his lip, and pulled at his own ear, unable to be still, crying so hard it hurt but he couldn't stop.

At least the painful vomiting and retching that came over him last time didn't start up again. He felt that there was nothing left in his stomach at all now, and the muscles still hurt.

Like all the previous ones, this spell didn't last too long. Within a few minutes, he was motionless on the floor, immeasurably tired.

His nose caught the scent of chocolate, warm chocolate, in the air, and he looked up weakly. The chair adjacent to his had a little steaming mug on it.

"She didn't even say anything," Tai thought sulkily.

He'd been going around that cycle for several hours now. He would be totally out of it, thinking but somehow not-quite thinking. Then he'd break down into a soggy, weeping spell, and then it was onto the melancholy, sulky stage, then back to the rueful stage again. It was as if he was too tired to keep crying, so he just returned to it later.

"Tai?" said a familiar voice. It was a gentle, light call that was asking if he was okay with its very tone.

Tai looked up and saw a bark-colored shape looming over him, with another standing behind it. He looked straight past the first shape...

"A-are you okay? We heard what happened."

Mike and his father had shown up. These were the neighbors they'd called? In a building with so many different apartments, they just happened to contact the Donaldsons?

His eyes narrowed when his mother's last few words rang out again in his mind.

"We should be going," Robert announced as he turned back to the two kits, the nurse having walked away finally. His voice was somehow tighter than usual and he was looking around apprehensively. "You can stay with us, okay Tai?"

The small fox slid out from under his friend and marched boldly straight up to the adult. "You know something," he growled softly. "I'm not going with you until I know what happened."

Mike darted over to them. "Tai!" he exclaimed, frowning. "You don't think my dad had anything to do with-"

Tai almost shouted. "I know you've never met my mom! Just that time I was leaving your place! Why did she tell me to talk to you?!" His paws were in fists by his side and he was shaking again. "Why? Who are you?! Why did this happen?"

"Calm down," the tall grownup said quietly, though it was obviously a waste of effort. Tai wasn't calming down, and he had good reason for it.

Mike interjected, stepping directly in front of Tai. "Oh, come on!" he said firmly, indignation on his features. "We came here to help! What would my dad know about this?!"

Before Tai could reply, Robert laid a comforting hand on his son's shoulder and gently pulled him aside. "It's alright, Mike," he sighed, a great sadness in his eyes. "He's right, somewhat."

There was a pause. "What?" Mike blinked in astonishment.

"Tai, tell me," the adult fox continued, reaching out to lay a hand on the little cub's shoulder. Tai stepped away swiftly; he had no trust for anyone right now. "Tell me. What did you think your mother did at work?"

The kit just glared. "I-I don't know..." he admitted. "She never told me."

"Do you have any idea why someone would try to kill her?"

"They didn't try!" Tai swallowed painfully. "And I don't know..."

Robert sighed. "Would you trust me if I said I'll tell you later?" he asked, doubting it'd work. "We should get out of here if we want to talk about it." The little fox-boy just laid back his ears and stared. "I swear I'll explain. But it's a very long story that we don't want to be overheard. Please just trust me Tai? I had nothing to do with... this."

It was just too much at this point. Tai didn't trust Robert. Or Mike. Or anyone right now, but he wasn't getting any answers and exhaustion was gnawing at him. A brief but devastating dizzy spell struck him; he stumbled forwards and nearly fell to his knees, though both Mike and his dad caught him.

"Whoa!" Mike said, holding him by the waist. "Is he okay...?"

"Go out to the car, guys," Robert told them both, withdrawing his keys and handing them to Mike. "Tai, I swear I'll explain. But we have to get you home, and from the looks of it, to bed too."

Tai growled softly. Telling him to go to bed at a time like this was just crazy. He wouldn't do it. No. If that meant he'd have to kick and scream and be a horror like he'd never been before, he would find the energy to do so. They'd regret taking him into their home if they did this. He didn't care anymore!

Mike looked up at his father in confusion, trying to place the keys in his trouser pocket. "Wait, where you going, dad?" he asked, helping Tai upright even as the tired pup tried to push him away. It was going to be troublesome to get the other boy to the car by himself like this. Tai might even attack him. He looked scarily rabid. Why was he behaving like that?!

But the grownup just smiled wryly at his son. "I have to see someone about something. Won't be too long."

"I hope not," muttered Mike, leading Tai to the exit of the loathsome building. "And thanks for the info..."

He was awake. Robert noticed that immediately.

Not only was he awake, but he was standing and clothed. The bed was unoccupied, with disconnected plastic cords draped over the sheets next to two pairs of opened handcuffs. It was far more than merely impressive, considering he had been stabbed in the stomach. The staff didn't expect him to be able to move and didn't bother properly restraining the killer: they clearly had no idea what they were dealing with.

The malodorous ferret whirled on the door when he heard it open. He froze when he saw who it was.

"I knew you'd come here," he sighed, nervously eyeing the suppressed pistol aimed directly at his chest. "I was hoping I could get out before you did."

"I was slightly surprised to find out you'd been caught, Nathan," Robert told him, cocking the hammer. "I never expected Eraline herself to kick your ass."

Nathan laughed softly. "It was trickier than I thought to go after them both, and she didn't seem to know how to give up. So, tell me, what crime are you here to punish me for particularly? Your son or the vixen?"

"Neither." Robert shrugged. "I'm over it, Nate. I hated you two years ago, but this is something else. Now I just want to get rid of you. I'm sick of your very existence. I'm not here for punishment, you'll get that in hell."

The ferret's banded features took on a slightly shocked cast. "Really? So far I'm not dead yet, so..."

"I'm sort of here to do something about that."

"Why? If you're so sure I'll get my just desserts." Nathan limped closer to the table near his bed and braced himself against it. His muzzle was bloodied, badly damaged, and one of his eyes was thoroughly bloodshot. "You shouldn't kill friends, Robert. It's what separates us from beasts after all."

"Friends? I thought such a notion was too grotesque for our circumstances. You're far too dangerous for us to leave hanging around." Robert narrowed his eyes slightly. What on earth was on the table that the mustelid assassin was leaning on? He couldn't see.

"Ah. 'The only threat you should leave behind you is a dead one', right?"

"Yeah, about it."

"I didn't enjoy it, Robert," Nathan said sincerely. He wasn't trying to talk his way out. No, Robert knew what he was trying to do. "My orders were to kill the vixen. My plan was to make it look like a murder-suicide, so the little pup wouldn't have to go through all this. Same with your little son. I didn't go after him because I have a thing for little fox-boys, believe me. I sort of had to. A living is a living. I'm sure the vixen was a wonderful lady."

"You have no idea. You murdered one of the best furs on this planet, and tried to kill her son too, the sweetest, gentlest creature I've ever met. Even worse, here you are trying to justify it. You're not getting away with this, Nathan!"

If Robert hadn't been more alert than he'd ever been in his life, he'd have ended up dead. The ferret's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, which was the only thing that gave the fox any warning.

Nathan moved with impossible speed. He lifted a syringe off the table top and threw it at Robert's face. The projectile sped towards its target unerringly.

At the last second, Robert ducked to the side, feeling the plastic tube brush against his whiskers. He brought the gun back up, but a clipboard, whirling through the air, suddenly slammed into his face with its hard edge, causing him to reel back, the sight momentarily gone from his eyes.

The murderer kicked the weapon from the fox's hands so hard the pain rung up his arms and into his chest, and then threw a pointed elbow through the air towards his muzzle.

Robert barely had time to stop the blow with his forearm. The phenomenal strength behind it nearly knocked him over, so he couldn't defend against the knee that came straight up into his ribs.

It winded him, but it was still easy to retaliate. He punched at the bloodied bandage on the weasel's chest, eliciting a loud howl of agony, stepping under a still outstretched arm and kicking wildly the back of Nathan's legs.

Nathan slammed to the floor but rolled to the side instantly, grasping the silenced pistol. He pointed it at Robert, but the quick vulpine slid his hand over Nathan's wrist and delivered a swift kick to the groin.

The pistol clattered noisily to the floor, yet the ferret rolled to the side once again, straightening up with significant effort.

"How long has this been coming, d'ya think?" he asked, displaying a grin that looked like it would be more at home on a lupine face. He couldn't hide his pain at being kicked square in the balls, however.

"God knows," replied Robert wryly, readying himself. "Why did you do it, Nathan?"

"I don't think you'll understand."

"Try me."

"As if you're even listening!" The ferret dashed forwards, ignoring the pain his injuries caused him, and jabbed powerfully with his paw, which Robert easily avoided, but simultaneously kicked low. The vulpine didn't see that coming.

"Ah!" he cried out, feeling the pain shoot through his leg. The distraction served, and Robert received a nimble high kick to the lower jaw which sent him tumbling to the floor backwards. Crimson blood streaked across the linoleum.

"Still having trouble with that knee, are you?" sneered Nathan, circling slightly.

However, the cocky assassin had wandered too close. Robert pulled himself to his paws, put his head down and slammed hard into the ferret, taking care to whack him viciously on the testicles with his knee as he did. He clinched the injured killer's waist, lifting him and slamming him into the wall, leaving a huge crumbling dent for the future occupants of the room to ponder.

"Still having trouble with your balls, are you?" Robert countered, grinning wildly and inappropriately. In a sort of idiotic way, he was having fun. "You're right. This was coming for some time."

Nathan slid off the indented wall and collapsed onto the floor. He glared in shock at the fox for a moment, gingerly touching the bandaged wound on his chest. Then he closed his eyes.

"What-?!" Robert exclaimed as Nathan's other paw reached up and snapped off the lights.

The darkness, naturally, rendered him blind while his eyes adjusted to the weak street lights shining in from outside. Before they could though, something crashed into his lower back, striking above his kidney, and he staggered forwards into the damaged wall. The agony was literally paralyzing.

"Too slow, Robert," Nathan said clinically to the groaning fox sliding down the wall. "Story of your life, huh? My eyes always were faster." Stooping, he picked up the gun that had fallen underneath the bed, while Robert fought to stand.

"Yeah, maybe your eyes," coughed Robert, pulling himself to his paws again.

Without any further comment, the ferret simply raised the weapon and squeezed the trigger.

There was a metallic click sound as the hammer came down.

And nothing else.

"But not your brain. It's not loaded, Nathan." Robert straightened, bearing down on the stunned murderer. "Next time, make sure there's one in the chamber." He punched the long nosed assassin in the head, sending him reeling a few steps towards the window overlooking the barely lit car-park, his paws raised to his bleeding muzzle. "How could I have possibly known you'd get my gun, right?" Another punch, this time a powerful blow to the solar plexus. "Next time you walk into a room with a trained assassin, tell me if it's a good idea to bring a loaded weapon for him to shoot you with."

Willing all of his strength into his leg, Robert kicked up at the stumbling assassin's chest forcefully, somewhat spitefully aiming for the bandaged wound. Nathan lurched backwards, his expression one of supreme agony. Finally, Robert slammed into him with a text-book shoulder tackle, hurling him as hard as possible towards the large, smooth glass.

The window shattered spectacularly and the ferret fell straight through, plummeting two storeys down. Even from all the way back up in the ruined hospital room, Robert winced when he heard the snap from the ferret's landing. He darted to the window, withdrawing a second handgun from his coat...

The ferret lay still upon the blacktop - a crumpled, twisted mess. However...

No more than ten feet away, was Robert's silver sedan.

Mike threw open the door and climbed out in alarm, looking up at the shattered window that had rained the shards of thick glass down on the black, wet bitumen. He gasped in shock when he saw it was his own father standing up there.

Then he looked down and nearly had a heart attack. He recognized this fur; he was almost sure.

His young, sharp mind didn't take long to make the connection. Mike spun around and beheld Tai's face as he got out of the car to see for himself.

It was grim, confused, but satisfied.

"Oh, my God..." breathed Mike, completely and hopelessly lost. "What's going on?!"

The car ride back to the apartment building featured less conversation than one would expect to find in an empty box.

Tai had purposefully seated himself on the other side of the car from Mike and was staring resolutely out the window, emerald eyes watery and unfocused as lights and speeding cars flew by. Mike, however, was staring incredulously at his father as he shifted uncomfortably in the driver's seat. He was frowning in confusion and deep in thought...

Attached to and suspended next to the car's cigarette lighter, a mobile phone rang once before answering itself.

The voice over the loudspeaker was old and slightly dusty, touched with a southern accent.

"Robert?" it asked uncertainly. "Are you there? It's Mitchell."

The vulpine shook his head to clear away his reverie-induced mind-fog. "Yes? W-what?"

"How are things, friend?"

Robert shrugged and found himself blinking owlishly. "Bad; things are bad."

"I'm sure they are. A bit of a stupid question, I suppose."

"This is a gigantic fuckup," Robert grumbled.

"Ahh?" the voice said dryly. "I see. You always did get a little too involved. Speaking of: I didn't expect him to be stopped by Eraline. Or you for that matter. There was a fight, correct?"

"Yeah," Robert said in a soft voice.

"I'm impressed."

"Wouldn't have happened if he wasn't injured. Nearly didn't happen at all."

"I'm sure it felt good though."

"Don't, please. There are children listening."

"I was certain of that; I'd say discretion flew out the window when you hurled him out of one. Anyway, you probably don't need me to remind you, do I? Now that she's gone, her child has to be moved."

"That's just bloody cold."

"Can you think of a better way to describe what we do, Robert? It's for his safety; we've got to get him out of here."

"It's stupid; how can we be sure that Tai doesn't know something? Don't be so quick to dismiss someone because they're young, sir. For all we know, Tai could salvage everything for us."

"We don't even know what there is to salvage, if anything. We have no idea why this happened. But, in any case, I'll leave it up to you. If you honestly believe that he might know something, check it out. I strongly recommend relocating him. Take him somewhere safe. Let the foster system take care of him. He's in danger, and so are you as long as you keep him with you."

"Quit that!" Robert burst out, sitting bolt upright. "He doesn't need to hear this!"

"... Discretion was never my strength, I apologize. Alright, we'll leave the details to you then. If you're going to make this personal, I already know I can't stop you." The voice sighed weakly. "But if you want my advice, you'll spare your heart the strain and wash your hands of this whole mess."

"It's my heart to strain."

"That's right. But be smart about this. This is dangerous. I'll contact you later; I sense I'm not endearing myself to you at the moment. Sorry."

The cell phone's keypad flashed twice and went silent as the person on the other end thankfully hung up.

"Fucking idiot!" flared the fox.

Robert threw the steering wheel sharply to the right and pulled over into a parking lot. He slowed the car to a halt and sighed. He stared listlessly at the steering wheel for several moments before looking up at the rear-view mirror.

"Tai?" he asked tentatively. "Tai, did you hear that?"

The kit didn't respond, unless one counts blinking once while looking out a window a proper response.

"Tai, what he actually said was... they've pushed the paperwork along. You're already classified an orphan."

"He said you should get rid of me," Tai replied darkly, in a voice so quiet and injured it actually scared the adult. "That's what he meant."

"Yeah... but we're not going to do that, are we, Mike?"

Mike glared at him, and the expression on his face was one Robert was utterly unused to seeing from his son: one of betrayal and dislike. He stared silently for a moment, before he snapped his head to the side and looking out the window again. It wasn't a pretty parking lot. "I don't even know what's going on."

Robert groaned and growled simultaneously, hitting the accelerator as he whipped the car around in a tight circle, spraying the other vehicles of the parking lot with a storm of gravel and stones.

The three foxes somberly made their way up the emergency stairs, all with their heads downcast and shoulders drooping. The elevators had shut down totally since the power was cut, and had not yet been reactivated. Luckily, there were two sets of emergency stairs, and Robert led them up the one on the opposite side of the building to where...

It was some kind of premonition that suddenly told Robert exactly what was about to happen. Sort of a realization that something was obviously going to occur once they reached the landing on this particular floor. "Tai!" he exclaimed, spinning around and narrowly missing with a grab as the kit spun around, smashing aside the fire door and darting down the corridor. "Tai! Stop!"

The adult took chase, but the young fox was much faster than his size implied, and he was already there by the time he was within grabbing distance. Robert didn't need to grab him though... there was something in Tai's stance, and some kind of aura, that just froze him with pity.

The boy stood still as a stock, shoulders slumped and ears flattened backwards. He was staring straight ahead, not looking at anything in particular.

"I'd hoped it was just a joke..." Tai confessed softly.

Eraline's apartment was taped off with police-tape; as was much of the corridor, up to the other stairway on the opposite side. The door was opened and the carpet in the front room was stained a deep purple-brown color. A viscous, coagulated pool of blood was also out the front of the house, sticking to the carpet like spilled sauce. It dotted the carpet out in the corridor all the way over to the other stairway where Eraline had finally...

Tai shook, though it wasn't quite the juddering palsy of his earlier hysteria. "Or maybe it had been a dream I'd had when I was in the car... and I just couldn't remember why I'd gone out with you, you know?" he added, voice cracking. "Something like that... anything. Anything."

"Tai, come on," Robert told him, taking his paw firmly and pulling him away. "You don't want to be here."

"It's real..." The little kit obediently allowed the adult to lead him back to his apartment, ears drooped and spine like jelly. "It's real."

"What do you want to eat?" Robert asked the two pups when they were inside his apartment finally. He locked the door, then bolted it. "Pasta?" He knew the answer well before he uttered the first syllable.

"No thanks..." Mike whispered, heading straight for his own room.

"I'm not hungry." Tai was staring lethargically at the floor once again.

"You sure you aren't hungry?"

Mike stopped in his doorway and slowly, deliberately turned around to face his father. His face was perfectly emotionless even if his words weren't. "I'm hungry. I just don't wanna... be near you at the moment..." He gently closed the door. "Good night, dad."

The words seemed to kill something inside of Robert, and he suddenly felt like he weighed a whole lot more. His worst fear had been confirmed. Mike had recognized Nathan.

"I-I see..." he muttered, nodding. "I have to go do something. Tai, if Mike doesn't let you in, you can sleep in the spare bedroom. The covers are warm. Good night."

When Robert entered his study, the little fox-pup was still standing in the kitchen...

Robert had to do some things before sleep, so he was sitting at his computer, typing furiously with a speed and accuracy that only comes from years of experience on a keyboard. He had to finish typing this test paper up for his students so he could email it to the University, so someone else could handle it. He'd have to tell them to get a substitute as well, because there was no way he was going to go to work in the morning. He wouldn't be able to move until at least mid-day, so he would have to... He had to... he'd have to... admit to himself that none of this shit mattered; admit it was all just to stop him thinking.

Admit that he just wanted to cry himself to sleep.

He glanced up at the clock, his sleepy brain not remembering that the computer itself could display the time.

It was after one in the morning. He was so tired, so early...

"This stupid thing..." Robert snapped at nobody in particular, rubbing his bleary eyes. He accidentally brought his paw down on the mouse, which jolted up and clicked the close button. Having just saved, the document closed and returned Robert to the desktop.

"Oh, for God's sake!" he hissed, curling his paw into a fist. "That does it..."

He couldn't focus anyway. Mike's harsh words reverberated inside his skull at every minute's end, driving him to distraction.

"Mike..." the grown vulpine whined to himself, finally allowing some of his own tears to squeeze out. "Eraline... dammit!!" He felt his stomach contract and his nose was running... When was the last time he'd felt like this? Ten, twenty years ago? When he was nothing more than a child.

He'd kept an unforgivable secret from his son. He'd been party to the endangerment of an eight-year-old kit, sitting idle as the boy was used as a smoke screen, a figment of a disguise. He'd put his own son in danger, and as with Tai and Eraline, hadn't told his own blood a god-damn fucking thing. The worst crime of them all, he had failed to protect Eraline, and tonight she lay dead because of it.

If Mike thought he hated his father right now, Robert knew he didn't have a patch on the poisonous self-loathing he felt himself.

"Dad?" a tiny voice squeaked.

Robert jolted around to look at the doorway, broken slightly away from his maudlin reverie.

The little brown kit was standing, naked but for his boxers, at the barely cracked open doorway, unsure if he was allowed inside, into the presence of the very one he'd rejected earlier. His eyes were red and the fur on his cheeks was matted from tears as he peered into the room. "Dad?" There was a broken quaver in his voice, a catch, as if the word was tugging at his heart.

"Mike!"

The child leapt forward and crashed into the seated grown-up, ensnaring him in his small arms. "Dad!!" he whimpered, clutching at his father with sharp little claws.

Robert's breath caught. He hugged his son tight to his chest, he himself crying into the boy's head-fur.

"Dad, I'm sorry!! I'm sorry!" The kit was shaking his head from side to side, voice broken by hiccups. "I love you! I do wanna be near you!"

"It's okay, Mike... I know, I know."

"I'm such a jerk! You're the greatest dad in the world, I-I... just don't know what's going on! I don't get it!"

"It doesn't matter Mike."

"Oh, shit... what would mom say?" The boy sounded shrill and genuinely worried.

"She'd understand." Robert lifted his son into his lap and hugged him even tighter. "You'd been through a lot for one day. We all have. I'm so sorry..."

They sat there in silence, the kit breathing the adult's scent in, feeling his body warmth.

"D-dad..." sobbed Mike, suddenly breaking the ice. "I have to... I need to ask something... I can't stop... stop thinking about it..."

Robert brushed the boy's silky head-fur, resting his cheek atop the little head. There were many questions his son could throw at him right now, and he prayed this would be one of the easier ones. "What is it?"

"D-did you... I mean, have you ever... killed anyone?"

The silence returned momentarily. "Well..." whispered Robert. "I-if you don't count today, knocking that guy out the window," he breathed deeply, idly noticing that his son was holding his own. "No."

"Really?"

"Really. I've never..." He lidded his eyes briefly. "Oh fuck... No, no Mike, I've never killed anyone. It was never my job to be anywhere near that... T-tonight was the only time, and I didn't even want to. Please, please believe me. I'm not... your dad isn't a killer."

Mike sniffled, clutching at his father's back, flattening his ears. "I believe you. I don't know what's going on, but I trust you."

The adult grimaced, trying unsuccessfully to stop a sob of his own. There was nothing more to really say right now, so the father and son just tried to gather themselves...

"Okay, Michael," Robert said after a few minutes, standing up and hoisting his son in his arms. "It's time for us all to get some sleep. I think I'll be asked a lot of questions in the morning."

"Can I sleep in your bed tonight? Please, dad?"

Robert nodded, giving his little boy a gentle nuzzle. "Okay. But first, let's check on Tai. Do you know if he's gone to sleep yet?"

Mike shook his head slowly. "No, dad. I thought he might like to be alone."

"I guess we should talk to him. Is he in the den?"

"He's not in the apartment, dad."

Rob stared at his son for a few seconds before it sank it. "H-he isn't?"

"No. Thought you knew."

"Oh, no." Setting his son down on his paws, Robert quickly began compiling a list of where Tai could've gone. "Mike, we have to find him. It's dangerous for him to be out alone. Anywhere."

"Where should we look?" Mike was confused again, looking at his dad with baffled eyes. He still had no idea what was going on.

"I'll go to his own apartment," Robert said. He took his son by the shoulders. "Listen, Mike. Check the building from the bottom up. Ask everyone you see if they've seen him. Don't go into Tai's own apartment, or the other emergency stairway. I'll check there, I don't want you to see it."

"I've seen blood before, dad. I'll check everywhere." Mike bolted out of the study, down the corridor to the front door... he grabbed the handle and yanked at it. It rattled noisily, but didn't move. "What?" Mike yelped in bewilderment. "Locked?"

Robert emerged from the study himself, took one glance at the front door, and then peered around the corridor corner to the dining room. His keys were no longer on the table. "Damn it," he cursed under his breath. "He locked us in."

"Why would he do that?!" demanded Mike, shocked.

"He's going somewhere he doesn't want us to follow." Robert's face was grim as he weighed the options.

"My key!" Mike suddenly exclaimed, spinning on the spot and sprinting dangerously down the corridor to his bedroom.

"Why didn't I expect this?!" Robert snapped at himself. "Stupid. Tai's a sly kid, why didn't I think of this!?"

Mike was asking himself the same question. The answer came to him eventually as he reached into his dresser for his spare key: earlier on, he'd concluded that, having lost his mother already, he knew what Tai was going through. But the truth was...

The truth was he had no clue how Tai felt.

Robert had jogged down the hallway towards the stairs, to get to Tai's old apartment. The blood spattered former home of Eraline and her son. But Mike stopped at the doorway to the stairwell, a sudden thought coming to him. A thought that sent a chill down his spine.

He decided he should check the building from the top down. There was a security guard at the lobby, he'd stop Tai from going anywhere... what if Tai didn't want to go out the building, but jump off it, instead? Mike bit his lip; sure, it was a silly thought, suicide being something he didn't understand, but he had to be certain.

With a muffled, anxious curse word, the kit mounted the stairs and clambered upwards.

It was nothing but stairs for several minutes, as Mike hurried to the top of the multi-storey building.

Winded and gasping from exertion, at long last Mike burst through the unlocked door onto the roof. He'd only been here once or twice before, with his dad, to enjoy the cityscape or sunset. He'd certainly never been up here past midnight.

The high wind at the top of the twelve storey apartment building lashed at him instantly, catching him by surprise and nearly throwing him to the ground as it surged powerfully inland from the nearby sea. The rushing sound of it was dominating, almost hurting his ears.

It had been so long, Mike couldn't remember the layout of the grimy roof that well. The ground was nothing but uncompromising gray concrete. There was what appeared to be a massive air conditioner complex off to one side, fenced off. Upon reflection, Mike surmised it was probably a ventilation system; some kind of pump.

His eyes strained in the darkness. There were few lights on the roof, understandably, and the fuzzy light from the streets below served only to render the sky a blurry gray; if it weren't for the city lights reflecting off the few dark clouds that hung in the sky, there'd be even less visibility. The fox boy walked forward, peering into the gloom, his tail still as a stock as if he was worried it would attract the attention of something lurking in the darkness.

He noticed almost absently that he was shivering. The cold wind was howling in his ears. He wished he'd thought to bring a pullover or something with him.

Would Tai really be out here?

There was an almost inaudible sound. A shoe scraping across concrete, some sort of movement that he could barely hear over the rushing wind. Mike froze and then crept forward until he was able to look around the gargantuan ventilation pump. He inhaled sharply.

Tai was there. Right at the edge of the building. Sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest and enveloped by his arms... no less than a few feet from a dozen-storey fall!

"Tai!" he called, looking wildly around for a way to enter the fenced off area. The shadowy blob didn't seem to move or in any way respond to his call. With no hesitation, Mike leaped at the fence, hauling himself up and over the cold metal bar at the top, before dropping loudly to the other side. He ran over to the dark shape.

Tai slowly looked over at him and smiled forlornly. "Hello Mike," he said quietly, before returning to gazing out over the building's edge.

"Tai, what are you doing here?!" demanded Mike, his voice fraught with more worry than he'd ever heard in it before. "Why did you run off?"

The smaller kit apparently paid him no heed. He instead gestured up and out at the horizon. "Look," he said, sounding infinitely sad.

"Huh?" Mike followed the gesture. Yet all he could see was the featureless sky; that upturned bowl of murky gray and black. "What's up?"

Tai seemed slightly crushed that his friend hadn't even noticed that which he'd been pondering for nearly twenty minutes. "You don't even notice they're not there..." he exhaled in dismay. "Is that what happens?"

Now Mike was utterly bamboozled. "Tai, what's not there?!" he demanded in exasperation.

"The stars!" He got a confused stare for a response. "You can't see them 'cause of all the light from streetlights and things around cities. I forget what they call that... used to know." Tai looked up for a few more seconds, then his expression grew hopeless and tired. "I used to look at the stars every night. Guess I can't anymore. Oh, light pollution."

"I-is that why you came up here?" Mike asked hopefully. "'Cause you wanted to see the stars? Do they remind you of...?"

Tai interrupted with a short, somewhat bitter laugh. "Mom never came out with me to watch the stars. Said she couldn't stand the bugs and that we'd end up catching cold."

"Oh. I was gonna say 'does it remind you of home' though."

Tai jumped a little, and his mouth opened, yet no sound came out. His eyes glistened and he felt his throat close. "Y-yeah, I-I..." he clenched his eyes shut until those familiar swirls appeared. "Mike!" he sobbed, his paws grabbing at his own shoulders, as if he was taking hold of his own body - to shake himself angrily.

Mike moved swiftly, kneeling down beside his friend and covering him in a light, draping embrace. "I know... that's how I was too at first."

Suddenly, Tai went from clutching his own body to clawing at Mike's. "Things we did do together, things we didn't do. Things she liked and didn't like. I don't want to th-think 'b-bout it!" He sniffed loudly. "D-does it ever go away? I-it hurts. I feel so terrible, and..."

Mike shushed him, placing his own head on top of Tai's. "No... not really. It didn't for me."

Tai started crying again, softly. "Wh-when my dad died," he began as the city lights below him contorted and sparkled, the tears seeping into his eyes distorting his view, "I cried for days. But at least... my mom... I was four! But now... sh-she's gone t-too and it feels like... like..." he searched for a way to describe it. "Like I just lost everything I already lost. A-again."

Tai looked out at the myriad lights that stretched out seemingly without end before him. "There are people everywhere here..." he said haltingly, confused himself as to what his point was. "B-b-but I feel so alone! I've got nothing! N-n-nobody! My parents are dead!" His voice became panicked and furious. "Wh-what about me? I have no parents! Does anyone even care? I hate this fucking city!! I hate everyone! I want out of here!!"

Mike was taken aback. He'd never heard Tai swear before, and the cub looked feral and afraid; almost as he had back at the hospital. He didn't know what to say.

Although he did start to understand.

Yes, he had lost his mother. Yes, it had hurt then and it still did, but he always, always had his dad. They loved each other so much, and they managed to help one another through everything.

But Tai had lost everyone. He didn't have a family anymore. To top it all off, Tai was now stranded in a strange city, a place as alien to him as the surface of the moon would be to Mike. Everything was hitting him faster and harder than Mike remembered it hitting him. He wasn't even capable of asking these kinds of questions until a few days after it had happened.

With a sniff, Tai forced himself to calm down a little, having seen Mike's expression. "Wh-what happens now?" he blurted, almost incoherently, as he sat up. His tawny paw swiped at his nose to try to dry the flow of disgusting fluid and he eyed Mike apologetically.

"I guess... there'll be a funeral in a few days, maybe a week." Mike sat down finally. "They have to have a funeral."

"I know that. I meant, what's gonna happen to me now? They're gonna put me in an orphanage, right? Send me away or something, like they said on the phone to your dad?"

"I don't know... maybe dad will know."

There was an awkward silence. "Mike... I need to know. I don't want to be sent to an orphanage. I don't want to."

"Let's go ask him. About everything... after we get back inside."

"Can we wait a little while?" Tai asked weakly. "I wanna look at the no-stars for a little longer."

Mike smiled and nodded. "Sure, I suppose so."

Chapter 8

It had been only several minutes since his son had caught up with him, with Tai in tow.

Tingling with relief and slightly faint, Robert had returned to his office and flopped heavily into his chair. The boys had gone into the bathroom together, apparently to clean Tai up. He'd looked bad indeed when he returned from the roof, though he politely apologized for scaring them.

With a sigh of resignation, Robert plucked a bottle of cognac from his bureau and poured himself a glass. The damn thing had been festering in his drawer since he'd received it at Mike's baby-shower. After the stress of today--and especially after the near-heart attack Tai had given him--Robert felt he could use something, even something that tasted like the offspring of vodka and old socks.

He'd 'treated' himself to about three glasses before there was a knock on the door.

"Come in." He straightened up in the leather chair, and was struck by an intense, unnatural dizziness. He'd had maybe ten beers in ten years, as football and books were his vices. Three shots of the cognac and he already felt like his head had been replaced by a spinning top.

The door was opened only after he responded, which was a bit different to normal. The two kits walked in slowly, with Tai being supported by Mike. It didn't seem necessary, though Tai did look like he'd gone through a marathon and a half.

"Dad, can we talk to you?" Mike spoke first. He looked exhausted himself. "About what happened?"

With a sigh, Robert checked his computer clock. "It's three in the morning. Are you sure you want to get started now?" He'd promised Tai that he'd explain, and he would, but it was getting absurdly late. He doubted either of the kits had been awake this late before. Surely they were too tired.

Tai nodded. "Please."

There was a long pause. Robert swallowed, and regretted it. The alcohol burned the back of his throat and the taste of the gag-inducing substance had lingered for minutes after he imbibed it. Finally he nodded and stood.

"Alright." He cracked his neck and pushed his chair back in. "I think I need a coffee. A real one."

Mike cocked his head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, let's go for a drive."

"Now?"

"I'd rather not discuss anything here." Robert frowned and looked from one kit to the next. "Do you think you can stay awake for much longer?"

"I think we can," replied Mike, "and if not, you could always let us have a coffee too."

"Not likely, mister. Let's go." Robert took a step forwards and swayed on his paws. "Whoa. Um, j-just give me a minute, okay guys?"

They didn't drive that far away really. Robert didn't think he was drunk, but he didn't want to risk it. They just drove to a small diner that was still open for some baffling reason; a little eatery on the corner of a major road, surrounded by a lot more activity than the late hour suggested. According to Mike, they were a few blocks away from a place called "Time Square" or something. According to Mike, it was a major landmark.

Robert ordered a coffee, resolutely ignoring the curious expressions of the staff as they wondered why on earth a fox had brought his two sons with him to a diner at half three in the morning.

When Robert asked the boys what they wanted, if anything, Tai at least realized just how starving he was. He'd gone long without eating before, but today, after the vomiting and stress, he needed to eat. He wasn't just tired, he was faint and exhausted.

He quietly requested some sausages and a cola.

Mike followed suit, his grumbling stomach making him regret declining food from his dad earlier. He'd had dinner, but that had been some time ago now. In fact, he belatedly realized this was the latest his dad had ever let him stay up.

It certainly qualified as a special occasion, though.

When the waitress left, Robert looked pensive. "I didn't really want to have to tell you- either of you- any of this," he admitted softly. The two kits' ears perked up instantly. "At least not until you were older. In fact, I hoped it wouldn't ever really be necessary."

Mike frowned. "Tell us what?"

"I asked you earlier, Tai, if you knew what your mom did at work." Robert rubbed at his eyes. "If you'd asked her, she might have said she worked in an office at the docks."

Tai nodded. Though the truth was, actually, Eraline wouldn't have given him a straight answer. She never did.

"That'd be sort of true." The coffee arrived, and Robert received it gratefully. It wasn't much better than the cognac in his eyes, but at least he thought it tasted nicer. Of course, he could also do with the help staying awake and counteracting the alcohol. "I'm going to need to go back a long way to explain this all, I think."

"A long way?" Tai repeated, confused.

"Twelve or so years ago, before either of you were born." The grownup took a big breath. "When I was younger, and about to graduate from university with honors in Literature, I got a job offer for something I'd wanted to do since I was... well, your age." He chuckled wryly. "I was still in England at the time, and I had expressed interest in this since I started university at age eighteen. It was an offer from MI5, the British intelligence agency. You know what that is, right Tai?"

The tawny pup nodded. "Yeah, sort of." Or at least, he'd heard of it. They were from the time humans and the evolved animals coexisted, eventually inherited by the younger races along with much of the human infrastructure. Cabals of spies and secret agents, to keep watch over enemies and allies alike. Though not even nine years old, Tai could read well, and the amount of books about spies and intelligence agencies written for young boys was understandably many.

"Well, I wasn't about to say no. I joined up as an analyst." Robert took another gigantic slurp of coffee as the sausages arrived. "It's not much fun being in that industry during peace time. It's not as cool a job as you think. You're still busy, and there's always some group, or some other nation, that wants to blow up your country. Don't forget to eat, you two."

Absently, both pups ate a small, fat sausage in two bites, but their eyes never left Robert's face.

"After a few years of doing this, another opportunity came up. There was a sort of exchange-program; a show of faith between nations. Some agents would be able to move to a new country and work for their agencies instead - provided they renounced their citizenship and swore loyalty to their new country, of course. Naturally this was a big risk, but everybody just picked from allies and even then watched them like hawks." Robert laughed. "Oh, it took years for them to get off my back and actually trust me - if they even truly have. Oh, getting ahead of myself. Yes, I moved to America to work with one of their agencies."

"Wait a second!" Mike burst out in alarm. He didn't like where this was going. "I-I didn't know any of this! You were a spy?"

Robert shook his head and motioned for his son to keep his voice down. "No, not a spy. I worked in an office. Anyway, I joined the CIA and things looked up for a little while. I started to like America, and work certainly picked up. Even nowadays people want to seriously inconvenience this country. Usually with bombs.

"After about two years, I met a young field agent. A vixen, in fact." He flushed under his fur. "I, uh, fell in love with her. We became close friends, but in the end, another good friend of mine made the first move. His name was Thomas. Tom Shepherd; and her name was Eraline..."

Tai gawked at him.

"Yeah. Tom didn't know how I felt, and so he made the first move. I never got to find out exactly how much Eraline felt for me, but she was happy with Tom. Very happy. So I let it go."

Mike looked a little bemused. "Huh?"

"My dad..." Tai replied, sounding awed. "He was a...?"

"It wasn't long then until I met someone else... another field agent. Apparently I was a danger magnet." Robert fixed his son with a warm look. "Her name was Haley, and she had the most beautiful chestnut colored fur you'd ever seen."

Now Mike gawked at him.

"Soon, our little family was split up. Eraline had lived in San Francisco for a few years before, so she moved back there with Thomas. They received an assignment together, posing as a married couple." Robert sighed deeply. "It was much harder for me and Haley, however. I was an analyst, and her job was... very different.

"She was soon pregnant, and the guys upstairs didn't like that. They tried to get her to terminate, but we refused... soon, we had a little boy. Our jobs were in danger, but for some reason Haley didn't care. She really didn't. This was more important to her - and to me."

Mike swallowed. "M-me?"

"Yes. Some things are more important than a career. I had to do something, though. Haley and I had a son, which got in the way of our jobs to begin with, and now there was a definite link between me and her. So... I changed departments, so to speak. I moved to New York with Mike, and instead of being a full-time analyst, they gave me a very different job, a quiet one that let me live a more normal life. I was a contact for agents, both ours and foreign allies, in my area... including Haley, who could easily pose as my wife." He laughed. "It wasn't a pose for long. We married before Mike was one year old."

Mike whimpered. "I thought you met in high school!"

Robert looked apologetic. "I'm sorry Mike, we weren't even in the same country when we were in high school. You were young. You still are. I didn't think it mattered." He closed his eyes. "Eventually, Eraline and Thomas had a son too. When Tai was about four, they had to move up to Alaska. The story was they'd lost their home and most of their money, and were going to stay with a relative, but in reality they were told to go there. I don't know why; I was never privy to the details of their work. That means nobody ever told me, and I wasn't allowed to know. It was about roughly the same time... Haley died."

Mike choked. "How did she die?" he pleaded with a cracking voice, sudden tears appearing in his eyes. "How did she really die?"

"There were no lies there, Mike," said Robert, tearful himself. "She crashed into a streetlight. There was nothing to say she'd been made to crash. Or anything that said she did it on purpose either for that matter. I-it was just... an accident. I promise."

The barky furred cub nodded and swiped at his eyes. "O-okay."

"The world was mostly at peace, Mike. It's not like we were at war. Everything was just run of the mill for us... we weren't behind enemy lines or anything. Heck, we were still here in America. We just had some pretty exotic jobs." Robert sighed heavily once more. "Having said that... a few months later, Tom was killed in a boating accident."

Tai inhaled sharply.

"I can't tell you what your parents were doing, Tai, mostly because I don't know myself. Nobody ever told me it was murder, though; another accident, I think."

The kit nodded, sniffing once. "I remember what they said."

"And now there's only one left..." Mike exclaimed, aghast. "Dad!!"

"Shh. I'm going nowhere for awhile yet, Mike. Don't let your superstitions get the better of you."

Mike looked both hurt and unconvinced.

"Why?" Tai asked quietly. "Why was mom murdered? Why is she the only one?"

"I think, but I don't know for sure, that whatever she was doing up in Alaska, she was continuing down here. Something about a crime syndicate or terrorists or something. I don't really know, and I couldn't tell you directly even if I knew."

Tai looked about to argue, but thought better of it. His quiet, unassertive nature was ironically reasserting itself and his hot anger was cooling fast as the sense of loss came down on him again.

Finally he slumped forwards, hiding his head in his folded elbows, his long head-fur collapsing over him in a veil. He started to cry quietly.

"This is incredible," murmured Mike. "It's like some stupid movie. Our parents were secret agents."

"The parents never die in movies," Tai whispered shortly. So he still had no answers. He didn't want to risk offending Robert by pushing his luck further either.

He felt so different to the way he did when his dad died. Maybe it was because of how his mother was killed, or maybe it was because now he'd lost both parents, or because he was older, but whatever it was this time he wanted to know everything. He needed to know why it happened. He couldn't just accept this.

It might have been that he wanted something to blame, or something to distract him from the central fact of the matter: that he was alone, kept for the moment by friends who had been specifically told to throw him away. "Did she... um, finish her mission, or whatever?" he enquired, still not looking up.

"... No, I don't think so."

Robert looked the stricken cub over. He was exhausted in every way, had been for the past few hours at least. The only thing keeping Tai moving was his immediate hunger for answers, exacerbated by his fear of what was to come, his unknown future, and Robert had given him little to satiate that. "My guess is that she was blown."

Nothing but a half-hearted nod for a reply. Robert didn't even know if Tai understood what he'd just said.

Mike was looking once again at his father, his expression blank even though his eyes watered. Robert swallowed and looked away quickly. He knew the question Mike was asking silently, and he could almost sense how Mike felt so deeply betrayed. But he couldn't make himself answer that question. Not just yet.

Robert felt sick, and experienced another surge of repugnance towards himself. "I think we all need to sleep. I'm sorry I don't have anything more to tell you for now."

Another nod. Robert stood, paid the bill, and they left. He had to carry the smaller kit to the car, and his own son stumbled as he walked too.

As days went by, it became obvious that Tai was suffering. At first, the kit was just melancholic and withdrawn, still occasionally bursting into tears for very short periods of time before getting himself under control again--he never explained what had set it off.

Then he started to hide away by himself, which Robert supposed was merely him trying to be alone to deal with the grief, but Mike disagreed. Mike told his father that it seemed more like the grieving eight-year-old was aware of the distress he was causing his friends and was trying to stay out of their way.

Robert eventually had to agree. Tai sometimes tried to feign emotion or interest for their sake, smiling deceptively, before returning to brooding-- usually in another room. Sometimes, Mike or his father would look away for just a few seconds and the tawny kit would've slipped out of the room.

Mike also appreciated the time alone though. The barky-furred ten year old had things to work through too. He was being brave about it, considerate of what Tai had lost, but everything that had happened had shaken his world too.

His perception of his own father, as a fur, had changed dramatically - especially since he was now positive his dad knew something about what happened a few years ago, and he was unsure what to think of that. That had happened a long time ago, to his way of thinking, but as much as he tried to convince himself otherwise, it had been an awful experience. If his father knew the guy that did it why had he kept it a secret? Mike had described his attacker well... Robert would've known it was him.

But how could Mike ask about it? There was really no proof that his father knew the ferret, only the disturbing coincidence that it was the same ferret. Yet something told Mike otherwise; his father's reluctance to even mention the matter was almost proof.

The notion that his dad might have betrayed him, or even just kept such an awful secret from him, was utterly terrifying. Mike resolved to put the matter off as long as he could. He could live with being the victim of sexual assault... he couldn't live without his father. If knowing the truth would cost that much, he didn't care.

Though that wasn't the only thing concerning Mike. Despite the younger pup's efforts, Mike started to worry more and more about Tai as time went on. He was finding it harder and harder to ignore Tai's misery, and begun to hate the fact Tai felt he needed to hide from them all. But he wasn't sure what to do.

Death was a terrible thing to dwell on, Mike knew. Tai may have gone through it twice now, but Mike had learned quickly that thinking long and hard about fate, about what happens to the ones you've lost, was more than upsetting. It was horrible on a very disturbing level that a lot of people simply didn't realize.

When someone close to you dies, you ask questions. Your own answers can almost destroy you, and Mike knew this.

Over a week passed, and the apartment was disturbingly quiet. Mike felt he was waking up every morning in a strange place...

Then, one day, Robert made the mistake of telling Tai when his mom's funeral was set. The kit let out a stricken cry and fled. After that, the subject was not raised again.

The next morning after that episode, two were up earlier than usual. Just as the sun was starting to warm the city streets, Mike was already up and dressed, making his dad a simple breakfast. Even for him that was rather unusual, but he had a good reason.

Robert growled softly into the study-room phone as Mike walked in with the cereal bowl, resulting in a slightly surprised glance before he returned to the phone call. "What do you mean, he's not covered?" he demanded incredulously. "We're not an insurance agency. His mother dies for us and we don't even give the kid the time of--Yes I... Yes I know that, but I'm not about to..." There was a pause and Robert looked in disgust at the receiver. "Don't be so god-damned absurd! How the bloody hell can I do this for one and not the other - the one who needs it! Look, never mind." He slammed the phone down and looked at Mike, who was just fidgeting at the side of the desk. "Thanks, Mike. I have to go to, uh, my job's office tomorrow."

"The university?" asked Mike hopefully. For some reason, it really mattered to him.

"No, that other job. Sorry." Robert smiled apologetically. "There are a lot of issues to work out, so it'll take a long time. I'm trying to get a baby-sitter for you two."

"Oh, come on dad, we don't need one." They really didn't, to be honest. Mike could cook simple things, was responsible enough to look after himself for a night and knew how to contact the right people if something went wrong. His father had raised him to be as self reliant as possible. But things were different at the moment.

"Normally, I'd guess not, but right now I don't want to take any risks." Robert sighed angrily. "I tried to get them to send someone down here to protect you both, but they won't do it for Tai. He's supposed to be at an orphanage by now, they tell me. Not my business."

Mike suddenly looked fiercely outraged. "It's their fault that-!"

"I know, I know. I'll still have to get someone I trust though."

"...Jake?"

Robert beamed. "Good idea. He likes you guys too. I'll have to speak to his dad again soon..." He whirled around and picked up his keys and jacket, but looked around for his wallet. Mike held it out for him, since apparently Robert had left it on the side of the heavy desk. "I have to wait for his school to finish though. Speaking of that, we've got a lot of catching up to do. Where's Tai? We'll get him to sit in on it too."

Mike pointed at the living room. "He's been up since, like, five, dad. I think he had another nightmare." The bark furred kit furrowed his brow. "Dad, I think he needs therapy, or at least someone to talk to."

"He does. But they won't let me. You see, when it comes to protecting him, he doesn't know anything useful, no chance. But when it comes to getting him help, he might know something so we can't have him seeing a therapist. They're making him wait a month before they get around to helping him, if they do at all."

Robert paused for a moment and regarded his son, keeping his surprise off his features. Mike had opinions about therapists due to his own experiences; he had to be exceptionally concerned to be suggesting them for Tai.

"But dad..."

"I know, don't worry. I'm not going to let them do this without a fight. Look... I have to go out for a little while - I tried, but I can't get anyone to look after you." He headed for the door. "I won't be very long, I promise. You know the drill, okay? Stay inside and don't answer the door or the phone. Don't let anyone know it's just you and Tai. And I mean, not a soul. Don't talk to anybody at all. If anything goes wrong, get help immediately. Alright?"

"OK dad, I will." Mike smiled as his dad whirled down the hallway, in a rush as always.

"...Not."

Tai was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the den, leaning backwards with his arms placed on the ground behind him, his weight on them. His expression was the haunting, blank middle-distance stare that he'd adopted recently. The one that unnerved Mike so much. The television was on, showing financial news rather than morning cartoons, and the volume was way down. It didn't take much deduction for Mike to realize Tai was not paying the slightest bit of attention.

He hadn't even got dressed. He was sitting in Mike's old bathrobe and his boxers, something even his dad wouldn't normally tolerate after breakfast.

With a sigh of resignation, Mike walked over to the television in front of the vacant kit, switched it off and knelt down next to Tai, sticking his protruding muzzle next to the small, tawny ear. "Are you okay?" he asked, unnecessarily. "That can't be good for your eyes."

Tai jumped, looking at Mike as if the intrusion had frightened him. "Oh!" He blinked. "Wh-what? What can't be good for my ears?"

"I said 'eyes'," another sigh. Mike sat down next to Tai's small form. He reached out and ran a paw through the kit's head-fur. "Want to do something today?"

"Like what?" came the dull reply.

"Like go out?"

The younger boy's expression became wary. "Go where?"

"Anywhere!" There was a heat in Mike's voice; hadn't Tai learned by now that Mike was on his side? "Anywhere is better than you sitting on your butt inside like this for the rest of forever! You're gonna grow mushrooms on that tail if you don't let it see some sunshine!"

Tai gave a noncommittal smile. "But where? Your dad's out and I don't think-"

Mike cut him off with a stern glare. "What he don't know won't hurt him. Besides, he never minds me going around the block... anyway, I want to show you something."

Tai raised an eyebrow. "Show me what?"

"Urgh..." Hazel eyes rolled back in Mike's head. "That living in the city isn't a total suck-tail deal. You're always moping about how you miss stuff in the country, but there's some interesting stuff here, too. So c'mon Hayseed, change into something you've not been wearing for a week and let's hit the sidewalk!"

"I'm not a hayseed! Do I even get-?"

"A choice? No."

Tai sighed and stared at the floor for a moment. "I'll get dressed," he mumbled, standing and stumbling towards his room. He clearly wasn't happy with this, but Mike didn't give a crap. He had made up his mind.

And so it was that two minutes later the boys were out of the apartment building and padding leisurely down the sidewalk. Tai led the way, but he was guided by Mike. He was almost afraid to look around at his friend, because it felt peculiarly like he was looming behind him with a gargantuan mallet.

"Umm, are we going further than just around the block?" Tai asked, slightly anxious. He felt a little resentful at being bullied out of the house, but to his way of thinking there was nothing he could do. He was still the guest in the Donaldson home.

"Yeah. Look, dad's gonna be away for a long time, Tai. Just don't tell him and he won't be upset."

Tai sighed his agreement. "So where to now?"

"Central Park!"

Tai looked up and scanned the tall buildings around him, getting larger and more imposing as they went deeper into the city. "They put a park in here?" he said skeptically.

"They did, actually. It's a big one, too."

They walked on for nearly half an hour, with Mike elaborating on this park Tai didn't really believe existed.

"Oh, we're nearly there..." he said speedily, seeming to sense when Tai was going to complain of fatigue. "Where was... oh. Yeah, so the park was actually made by the humans that originally built this place about four thousand years ago!" It was so painfully obvious that Mike was yammering unremittingly just to keep Tai from complaining.

Tai, who hadn't been really listening at all, finally spoke up. "Mike, what are we going to do there? What's the point of coming to a big park surrounded by hundreds of huge buildings? It's not even gonna be a real park."

"Well, why do you go walking in forests?" asked Mike pointedly.

Tai finally shot his friend an irascible glare. "I don't wanna do that either!" He changed topic quickly. "We can't do anything, can we? We didn't take anything with us."

Mike coughed nervously. "We'll be fine," he said evasively. "Anyway, we're there!"

Tai put his eyes to the front once again, and actually faltered in his stride. There actually was a park. The dull grey cobblestone sidewalk continued, over a quaint little walk-over bridge; beyond the bridge was a grassy hill, littered with sun-bathers, romantic couples and furs just sitting on their backside enjoying a good book; beyond it were other hills, obscured by masses of trees. It was a weekday, so it was unsurprisingly empty of kits but it was certainly by no means empty.

What really surprised him, however, was the size and density of the plant life. Vivid green trees lined broad walkways, and here and there thick shrubs and flowers flourished. Tai felt his breath catch in his chest. Instinctively he inhaled deeply through his nose and the myriad scents literally made him lightheaded.

He didn't look around, because he knew Mike was sporting his customary grin. "Told ya! This is just the beginning too!"

But Tai was already looking at the horizon... he considered the distance to the nearest tall building and his muzzle cracked into a smile. The entire space between where he stood upon the quaint little stone bridge and the distant skyscraper was filled with towering trees; a wide river of flowing green leaves and fluttering birds. "H-how big is this place?" he finally asked.

"Well, let's see..." Mike took the lead, beckoning Tai after him. The kit bounded after him. "So, did I tell you or not? You gotta trust me. I know what I'm talking about. All the time. About everything!"

The responding glare was devoid of any real resentment. "Alright. Don't do a big dance about it."

Mike promptly spun around, leaping high in a ludicrously clumsy pirouette. After landing, he started to moonwalk, poorly, away from the younger kit, deeper into the park. "Good idea! Help me out with some ballet, would ya?"

"Are you calling me a girl?" Tai said through his now massive grin. He sprang at Mike, whose eyes widened and he whirled around.

The chase persisted for a few minutes. Tai kept up extremely well with Mike, surprising the older boy slightly as for most of the time he'd known Tai he wasn't even capable of running. Yet he kept going, calling out giggling taunts every few seconds. He wasn't really concentrating, so he used 'I think your pirouette needs some work, sweet-cakes!' twice.

When he made the mistake of stopping and turning to facilitate a rather loud raspberry, he realized Tai was much closer than he thought, and the skinny mass of fur pounced at him with full force. Surprised, Mike was thrown to the ground with a growling Tai positioning his nose right in front of his own.

"Got you!" Tai said breathlessly, settling down onto Mike's chest.

Mike grinned. "Nuh-uh. I know your weakness!" With that he poked Tai's rib, causing the smaller fox to jolt up as if he'd just been jabbed with a cattle-prod and clutch his sides. In one moment, Mike reversed the pin, clutching two thin wrists in his paws above his friend's head, his weight on Tai's stomach as he lay between the skinny legs. "Who rules, huh? Huh? Huh?"

"Me!"

"Oh reeeaaally?" chortled Mike, some pseudo-malice entered his grin. "Does this seem familiar to you? Let's see if your answer changes..." With only minimal effort, he managed to hold both wrists down with only one of his hands. "Oh, it's real easy when I can do this..." His tail began to wag slowly in the air.

"M-Mike... I'll scream, you know it!" Tai stammered, looking along his t-shirt clad chest at the threatening claw hovering over his belly.

"In public? No problem!"

The claw descended onto the flat stomach below it. Tai immediately yelped as expected, his legs flailing uselessly behind Mike's back. It only continued for a short few seconds, as the prisoner quickly surrendered.

Others were looking their way, though mostly only briefly glances. Not that either of them really cared. They were having some brainless, shameless fun on the thick, dewy green grass in a park under the shade of the trees, and if they annoyed some grown-up trying to read a novel for a grand total of thirty seconds, so?

"I give up!" wailed Tai, breathless. "You rule! Don't tickle me anymore!"

Mike slipped off, lying on his side. The two kits stared upwards, peering through the waving tree branches at the cloudy sky. With a contented sigh, they lay side by side together. The long grass was cool on their furred backs. The warm morning breeze washed calmly over them.

"... I just had to get you out for a bit..." Mike said apologetically.

"It's alright... thanks."

"I didn't want..." But Mike's voiced trailed off and he looked over at a hot-dog stand about seventy yards away. Then he hissed in alarm, scrabbling to his feet but remaining in a half-crouched position. "C'mon, behind the tree!"

Tai got to his feet with speed, but when he glanced back at the hot-dog stand, all he could see was a pair of police receiving two absurdly stuffed hot-dogs. Regardless he darted behind the nearest tree with Mike. "Wh-what's up?"

"Uh, nothing... just don't let them see you!"

"The police?" Tai's eyes narrowed. "Why? We're allowed to be here right, right?"

Mike flushed under his fur and stammered. "Uh-um... well, I learned the hard way that cops don't carry around a list of the kits who are home-schooled. I don't want them coming over here and making things complicated!"

Tai's chest constricted. "C-complicated?! You mean we have to hide from the police? When we're miles from home?!" Though he had whispered, the kit's voice was high pitched with incredulity.

"I'm sorry, I forgot!"

But the police wandered in the opposite direction, munching contentedly on their hot-dogs and talking quietly with one another. Mike peered bravely around the tree trunk, giving a loud sigh of relief. If they'd come this way, it might've been hard to hide from them. The brown furred kit honestly hated police.

He felt a tug on his shirt hem. "Mike, let's go home! Please!"

"Maybe..." Mike whispered, half to himself. "This wasn't a good idea... but let's not go home right away."

"Mike, please!"

"No! Please you!"

"Wh-What?"

With a mortified groan, Mike looked down at the frightened fox-boy. "I don't want to have you stuck in the house! We'll be fine, trust me!"

Tai flinched and he looked at his older friend reproachfully. "I've heard that before," he said bitterly.

"Um. Want a hot-dog?" Mike tried, a sheepish smile surfacing again.

There was a pause. "I'm starving..."

They just got their hotdogs from the same stall as the cops. Then they took a walk in the park, holding a ten inch, cheese-drooling, sauce-smothered hotdog each. Tai almost managed to forget that they were taking a huge risk of getting in trouble, and tried to instead enjoy the park. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to have the sun on his face, and he was grateful for the distraction. In fact, he had to admit, this 'Central Park' was actually pretty cool.

It wasn't just that though. Now more than ever, he realized that Mike really was a lot of fun to be around. They chatted on and on, casually traversing the wide boulevards and pathways as they ate. Whenever Mike got started on a topic he could talk about it almost non-stop, and listening to the older kit with his adult-like inflections and vocabulary was comforting to Tai; it gave him something to focus on, and he was surprised to find himself learning things even as Mike spoke.

After some time, which they spent between walking, running, and other forms of messing around, as well as occasionally sneaking behind trees off the exposed paths to explore the grassy areas and thick bushes, they found themselves at a large lake where they finally stopped to finish their hotdogs, sitting on the grass next to the water. The lake was glowing blue in the daylight, and the surface rippled placidly. Mesmerizing little flashes and sparkles of reflected sunlight danced all over it as the kits watched on.

When Mike had finished, he flopped backwards with a groan. "Ooh, stuffed..." he said simply.

Tai finished soon afterwards, and he couldn't deny that the hotdog had been a bit on the massive side, or that it felt like he'd eaten a stone. His paws were covered in sauces and cheese. "Yeah..." But just as his eyelids were closing, he caught himself and sat upright. "We should go home."

"Wanna check out the statues?"

"The statues you told me about?" Tai screwed his face a little. "Not today... Not even the human statues are all that interesting-sounding. Can we please go home now?"

"Hmm," Mike replied, "I guess a lot of humans would've agreed." He sighed and closed his eyes. "Alright, let's go home." He sounded disappointed, and Tai knew why. Mike had hoped to have more fun, anything to take both of their minds off of recent events. They would have, too, but when the situation with the police was made clear to Tai, it had been powerfully sobering. Cops were everywhere in this big park for some reason, and the longer they stayed, the more likely they'd be caught.

It was just too dangerous.

Not even Mike's quick talking could hide the truth from Tai. If the cops caught them, thinking them to be truanting students, they'd be harassed by them for the rest of the day. More importantly, they'd eventually have to contact Mike's father, and it was obvious that if Robert found out they'd left the house, without him knowing, for several hours to go to a place so far away...

He'd be pretty upset.

So the two boys, with this fact in mind, cautiously made their way to the exit and prudently avoided main roads on the way back. Thankfully, Mike knew the area well; Tai took some comfort in that, but he was still a little shaken.

But it was hard to dwell on it, as Mike quickly started talking again. It was hard to dwell on anything when he was focusing on Mike's words, and Tai was glad for it.

As they neared the apartment building, Tai had to ask a question. "Hey, Mike, if we'd got caught by the cops, would it have gone on our record?"

"You mean... criminal record?" replied Mike. Tai nodded. "No way. We wouldn't have actually done anything wrong; we weren't skipping school, it's just a major pain, 'cause they don't know that."

"Oh, never mind then." He grinned weakly. He decided to throw Mike a bone. "So, um, we've done swimming and that park... what else is there?"

Mike seemed to perk up. "Oh, lots more! Gotta take you indoor rock climbing soon. But let's leave that for another day."

They continued into the gray-walled lobby, passing by the banks of white, metal mailboxes and through the steel doors of the elevator that carried them up to their level. Tai hadn't yet got used to how drastically the décor changed from the dull, lifeless lobby to the painted, softly lit, carpeted corridors where there was actual habitation.

When Mike unlocked and opened the door to the apartment, however, something scared them both to the point where their bladder control was tested.

Robert Donaldson was standing barely two feet back from the doorway. He towered over the pair, a tight smile on his face. "Boys," he said with no trace of emotion in his tone. "So, where've you been?"

Mike's stomach plunged like he'd leaped off the building. "Uhh, just around the block," he said, trying to look his dad in the eyes. It was amazingly hard for some reason.

"You may have noticed there's a window in the den that gives spectacular views of the street." The grownup's eyes stopped boring into Mike's and he instead looked at Tai. "Tai, can you please go to Mike's room for a while? I need to speak with him."

Tai glanced quickly at Mike, who was beginning to look like he was just sentenced to death. "S-sure..."

Robert waited patiently until he was alone with his son, and then he led him into the kitchen, clearly trying to put as much distance between Tai and any possible yelling. "Well," he began, some of his anger becoming audible. "Where did you really go?"

Mike shivered. "Uhh, ok, we went a few blocks down... just wanted a walk!"

"You really suck at lying, Michael. Where did you go?"

The boy winced, and was amazed to find himself afraid. He expected his dad to be upset if he caught them, and was sure he could handle it, but it felt like the grown up was going to throttle him. He almost never called him that name in that tone. "We went to Central Park..."

"Why the hell did you do that?"

"D-dad, Tai's been moping around the apartment for so long! I couldn't stand seeing him like that, so I..." he trailed off and actually whimpered.

"So you decided to take him a god-damn country mile away from home, without telling me? You didn't wait for me to get home?" Robert touched a paw to his own head in exasperation. His son however was baffled by the depths of anger his father was displaying; it scared him... it meant he'd missed something. "And what really interests me is how you think I wouldn't notice you'd taken a twenty out of my wallet this morning before I left. But that's not even why I'm angry..."

Suddenly, Mike felt sick. He didn't like stealing, and he'd fought with himself to take the bill. He didn't just waltz over and steal it. He did it so he could maybe spend it on Tai when they went out; he intended to return it if he didn't use it!

"Michael, what you did was stupid!" hissed Rob, looming over his son. "You know that Tai's mother was murdered. That they tried to kill him too; and you decide to take a walk to Central Park of all places with him, alone, without even telling me you'd left! Don't you realize that this isn't the time to be screwing around like this?!

"You endangered both yourself and Tai. Damn it, Michael, he's younger than you. I expected better judgment from you when dealing with him. I thought you were smart enough to think about his safety; or at least your own. I've been on the phone to the police for the last twenty minutes trying to get them to at least keep an eye out for you!"

"D-dad, I-!" Mike faltered, unsure of how to even begin mounting a defense. He hadn't thought of it from that angle... just that his friend had lost his mother, something he knew was very painful, and he wanted to help. And the theft... how could he even say anything about that now?

His eyes watered and yet he felt them burn slightly. He couldn't even muster the will to wipe his nose and eyes defiantly, as he usually did when someone managed to make him cry. He had just wanted to help. He'd been stupid, yes, but he didn't think he deserved this. Did he?

But Robert was relentless. "I would've given you the money if you'd asked, and I would've taken you somewhere if you'd asked, but you decided to play the sneak-thief," he said, folding his arms. "Why? What are you telling me, Michael? That I can't trust you enough to leave you alone anymore? To not do absolutely idiotic things the moment I'm not there? You scared me to death -I told you not to go out! You could've been hurt, or killed! You lied to me, stole from me, and then disobeyed me."

Feeling like his chest was being crushed by a coiling snake, Mike let out a pathetic sniffling sob. He stared at the ground resolutely and just waited for his father to finish giving him the worst scolding of his entire life. He'd never seen his father so angry at him.

Worse... now he agreed with him.

"Very stupid," his father said quietly, with that tightly controlled fury still in his voice. "And bloody irresponsible. You're smarter than this, so act like it."

"D-d-d-dad, I-I'm s-!"

"Just don't do this again. I shouldn't have to worry that my own son is stealing from me."

Mike swallowed, reaching into his pocket quickly and holding the folded twenty dollar bill out to his father. "D-dad, please!" he choked, his voice trembling. "Tai was so upset. I couldn't- couldn't just do nothing! I-I just want him to stop being sad, dad, I j-just wanted to h-help..."

With another sob, Mike just let go of the note and ran for the hall, letting the green slip of paper flutter gently to the floor.

When the bathroom door slammed loudly, Robert actually jumped, as if shaken out of a dream. Then he sighed and bent to pick up the note, glaring at the thing in his paws for a few moments.

Mike's actions had shocked and scared him, so he had been a lot harsher than normal. Doing something stupid like walking down to Central Park, sure, alright. He was ten years old; he couldn't be expected to always make perfect decisions. He's bound to miss something every now and then, especially when he was so concerned for his friend. Especially when Robert's whole philosophy was to give his son the freedom to learn from those mistakes.

But stealing from him? Robert couldn't believe it at first. It took him hours of struggling with the notion, trying to find another explanation for the missing bill, before he had to face the obvious conclusion. Mike never stole. Not even five cents. But what if he started to do it now...? He really didn't want Mike to get into the habit of thieving from him, or anybody else. This was the sort of idiocy he was bound to worry about as a father. Right?

No. He knew that was nonsense. Mike wouldn't ever be like that. He wasn't like that. He'd proven it just then. He'd proven it his entire life.

Robert almost punched himself. What an incredible asshole he'd just been. Mike only wanted to help his friend. He stole the money because he thought he might be able to spend it on the grieving kit, and even after he took it he didn't spend it, so gave it back. He probably only took it because he didn't think his father would give it to him. That said as much about him as it did Mike.

He threw the note on the counter and set off after Mike, cursing.

Meanwhile, Mike locked the bathroom door behind him and stumbled his way across the floor. He slammed backwards into the wall on the far side, narrowly avoiding tripping and falling into the bath. He wiped at his nose lazily with his wrist.

His dad was right. What the hell was he thinking? And he should never have taken the bill. His dad would never trust him again. What had seemed like a trivial, fun idea had turned out to be one of the most significant screw-ups of his short life. A sickening, cold feeling of self-disappointment knotted his stomach.

He sat down heavily, hurting his backside, with his legs outstretched. "Shit," he sniffed to himself, glaring at his sneakers.

Moments passed, the fox kit berating himself more and more as they did. The door rattled suddenly.

"What?" Mike asked weakly, imploring whoever it was to just leave him alone.

There was a pause. Suddenly, he heard a timid, worried voice ring out quietly into the tiled bathroom. "M-Mike? Um. Thanks for taking me out today."

Mike shook his head. It was nice of Tai to try, but he was going to cry anyway. "No biggie."

"I-it is. Thank you." Out in the hall, Tai turned and slipped past Robert, who was watching him with guilty eyes. The kit's eyes never met his, however.

The adult knocked on the door next. "Mike? Can I talk to you please?"

Mike sniffed and glared at the white bathroom door, bitter and injured. Hadn't his dad said enough? He had to chew him out some more?

Closing his reddened eyes, the fox kit hoisted himself to his paws on the tiled floor, and slowly made his way to unlock the door. When it opened, his dad looked almost as miserable as him. "Wh-what?" asked Mike, swiping the tears from his face.

"I'm sorry," Robert admitted, smiling feebly at his son. "I overreacted. I didn't mean any of that. I was just so scared that you'd been hurt, I'm sorry I was such a jerk. You're a good kit, Mike, thinking of Tai like that. I'm so proud of you." He pulled the surprised kit to him for a quick embrace. Mike didn't object. "One question, though. Why didn't you just ask for me to take you somewhere?"

Mike giggled and sniffled at the exact same time, closing his eyes again. At the same time, it seemed so funny and yet such a freaking dumb mistake. "C-coz I didn't want to make you late for work."

Robert rolled his eyes and smiled down at his boy. "You dork."

"... I know."

Mike came into his own room not twenty minutes later, to see Tai sitting on the edge of his bed, looking lost in thought again. Was he sulking again?

But the tawny cub looked over at him and jumped to his paws, concerned. "Are you alright, Mike?" he inquired solicitously.

"Sure, I'm fine!" Mike grinned at him.

Tai frowned and appeared doubtful. "You look like me," he said, no trace of humor in his voice as he glanced over the taller kit's face. "Your eyes are red and your nose is runny."

Wiping his nose conscientiously, Mike chortled. "It's over now," he promised, sniffing unconvincingly. "Dad was pissed at me. Like I thought." He dismissed the matter with a wave of his paw. "It's alright. We made up."

Tai sat back down. "I'm sorry," he said, kicking his shoes off his paws. "You got in trouble because you wanted to help me stop being so..."

"It's no big deal."

"It's just..." Tai shuddered. "I can't forget. I stop thinking about something for a second and I think about mom. Or I'll think something stupid like 'wonder what mom would've said on my birthday.' That kind of dumb stuff."

Mike shot him a worried glance, but Tai didn't seem to be too upset. His tone was matter-of-fact. He was telling his friend why he was so morose all the time.

"That's why," explained Tai, talking softly. "I'm sorry you got in trouble for trying to help."

Mike felt a rush of affection for him, and sat down beside him. "It's fine, it's not like it's easy for you," he said.

"I'll try to cheer up."

"Good!" Mike chortled. "I'll get some toys out. Or I'll braid your hair. You'd look good."

"No way!" Tai grinned, his paw going to his head-fur protectively.

Later that evening, the two pups sat together on Mike's bed, toys strewn over the covers and naturally over much of the sizable room's floor. It was getting late, and Tai was already yawning in Mike's face as they finished up playing with some of Mike's action figures under the warm glow of a bedside lamp. It was all surprisingly convoluted, but it essentially boiled down to Tai's soldier stopping Mike's mutant ninja from poisoning the entire world.

It had been a lot of fun, and Tai in particular had enjoyed it all.

Mike smiled at him, reaching out to touch his shoulder tenderly. He was getting a little tired too, but nonetheless he felt suddenly so very happy. He'd managed to distract Tai for the entire day; managed to keep the kit from sinking into his ritual depression in the evening.

He looked so cheerful, almost drunk from the fact he was just playing with another kit. His white furred cheeks were rosy beneath that fluff, and he had a slight grin. Tai had wholeheartedly thrown himself into that silly role-play they'd just finished, tail and ears pricked. Mike was a bit surprised to see just how much energy Tai really had, as he rolled around the bed, messed up the sheets and laughed non-stop.

Despite it all, Tai was a young boy and he did in fact know how to act like one. Sometimes Mike had worried about that.

Tai caught the paw, holding it to his shoulder. "What?" he asked softly.

"Hee." Mike snickered. "You look cute."

Tai smiled back at him, shifting around until he was lying on his side next to Mike. "Why, thanks."

The bigger boy-cub slid a little closer to him, before propping himself above the tawny kit, looking down with a contented expression. "Want to talk for a while?" he asked. It had been a quiet day since his father had torn into him for his foolish misadventure that morning, aside from both of them taking a protracted shower-bath together.

"Sure." Tai once again squirmed on the bed, this time ending up on his back looking up, with his head-fur framing his head messily.

"I just wanted to know some stuff..." Mike frowned a little.

"What about?"

"You."

The tawny kit frowned too, looking at his bigger friend in confusion. "About me?" he said slowly. "What?"

Ah. So it was still there; Tai's little shell. Mike felt slightly disappointed. "I... I wanna know more about you. You're, like, an enigma still."

"A what?"

"A mystery." Mike snuffled lightly at the kit's ears as he lay below him. "You don't have to answer. Can I at least ask? Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do."

The barky fox chuckled. "You sure sound like it. There's just... some stuff that I don't get."

"About me?"

"Yeah." Mike frowned. Phrasing this was going to suck, but he'd been baffled by it for so long. "You said you were bullied back at your old school."

Tai corrected him absently. "Schools," he said. "I've gone to four different ones."

"That's even weirder. What sorts of stuff did they do to you?"

"What sorts of-?" The tawny kit blinked in surprise. Then he almost seemed ashamed--deeply embarrassed for some reason. "All different things," he muttered, and gave no indication he wanted to continue.

They both fell silent for a second before, finally, reluctantly, Tai opened his muzzle again. "Some of it was pretty dumb. Pushing my pencil case off my desk. Saying mean things about me... whether they knew I could hear them or not. For a while, stuff'd go missing from my bag. A couple times, someone kept dropping the stuff I made in art class. Daring me to do something about it. Um, it was usually the older boys; sometimes they took stuff off me; trading cards, money my mom gave me and all that."

"Seriously?"

Tai smiled wryly and touched a paw to his muzzle. "One day, I got shoved into a wall. I had a loose tooth, and it got knocked out, and my nose got all covered in blood."

"You gotta be kiddin' me. Did you tell a teacher?"

"Yes."

"What did he do?"

"Um, she asked them what happened, and they said I fell over. Said that they were just behind me and they could understand if I thought they'd shoved me." Tai closed his eyes briefly. When he spoke next his tone was brittle. "They caught me after school on the way home. Told me that no one ever listened to poor kits like me... that they'd do it again if I ever told on them ever again."

Mike felt his heart skip. "D-do what again?"

Tai swallowed. "Hit me a few times." He sighed. "It sucks," he mumbled. "Being poor. Furs notice. They know. They pick on you."

Once again, Tai fell silent, seemingly to compose his next few sentences. Mike held his breath as he waited.

"I... got angry sometimes. I'd do something stupid. Sometimes to furs that didn't deserve it. Yell at them. Or run away. I hit or tried to break stuff sometimes, just because I was so mad... I sometimes got in trouble for that." He brushed his head-fur from his eyes. "I cried a lot. I would say nasty things to some furs. But not to the ones who were mean to me. I mean, if I did, they'd kick my tail."

Mike frowned pensively. He had a little bit of trouble imagining Tai with a temper. Sure, he'd been a little mad the night his mother was killed, but who wouldn't have been?

So he thought further back. The first twenty-four hours they'd known one another came to mind, when Mike had gone home in the morning without telling Tai. "Don't do that again!" the younger kit had ordered him. He didn't exactly sound angry then, but could only have been a step away. Hurt as he was, Tai had snapped at his newest friend.

"I once had glue dumped on me," Tai was saying in an off-hand tone. "Couldn't get it all out for a week. That was the worst thing that happened in my first school." Once more he paused, thinking what to tell Mike next. "They did a lot of stuff, Mike."

"Didn't you try to stop them? You know, fight back?"

"How?" Tai's voice quavered briefly. "I'm not strong! I'm tiny and skinny. All it does is make them mad!"

"Why did none of the teachers help?" Mike demanded softly, gingerly stroking the tawny pup's ear.

"I didn't... they... I didn't always tell them."

"What?!"

"I just... didn't." Tai scrunched his eyes shut. "I didn't tell them. They never did anything anyway when I did. They never listened to me! They always treated me like I was stupid! Or they always let them off, as if what I said wasn't important!" Now he did sound angry. He looked angry too, and his tiny paws were fists. "'Don't be silly!', 'Why would they do that?', 'Uh-huh.', 'Mind your tone, Tai!' Who cares about my tone?!" Mike's gentle touch worked against his quickening pulse, and Tai held his breath to collect himself. "Um, I'm sorry I was such a jerk to your dad that night. He was being nice too..."

"That's okay, Tai," Mike promised him. "Dad's smart. He knows it wasn't your fault."

"I used to stay away from everyone," Tai went on. "In school, I'd try to be alone. I'd try not to talk to anyone. They'd call me a loner too. I never wanted to be alone though! I just didn't want anyone to pick on me... or pretend to be my friend."

Mike was shocked to discover that he was crying just from listening to this. Silent tears were pooling in his eyes and his nose was getting slightly stuffy. The littler fox boy was telling him things he'd probably never said to anyone, ever.

"I'm such an idiot," Tai suddenly whispered, voice cracking. "It was my fault. Always. I always suck at everything."

"What are you talking about? You're not an idiot. I think you're really smart."

With reddened eyes, Tai looked shamefully up at Mike. "Did you know I repeated?" he breathed, sounding sick and scared. "Second grade. Twice. And they were gonna make me do it again. No one I know has ever done a year more than once. I... I did twice."

Stunned, Mike just stared in silence down at his friend.

"See? It's cause of me that I never had any friends. It's cause of me that others picked on me." The cub gritted his teeth. "It's because I'm stupid that I can't go to the third grade." He finally let out a broken cry, one that he tried to reign in, but it still burst out from behind his clenched teeth.

Still a little shocked, Mike made his mistake. "But... what about your mom?!" he demanded. "Why didn't she do anything about this?" Then he physically flinched.

Tai looked steadily at him for a moment, expressionless. "My mom?" he said, very slowly. "She was busy. She acted the way my teachers did; as if I was crazy or whatever was wrong didn't matter. Maybe it really didn't matter..."

The very idea of that stung Mike to the core. If his dad didn't engage him the way he did, the ten-year-old was sure he'd have died inside. But still, when Eraline was killed, Tai was truly heart-broken. He was very, very upset!

As if reading his thoughts, Tai sniffled. "I miss her. Sometimes she never listened, or didn't talk to me. But she'd give me hugs sometimes. I could snuggle up with her and watch a movie. She'd forgive me if I got snappy or talked back."

Tai chortled weakly. Not that he often snapped at his mother. It was far more likely to be the other way around, since Tai knew better than to upset his mom. She was his whole world, and something as simple as denying him a hug, or scolding him, was devastating... and she wasn't above abusing that to keep him in line. They'd been a little distant the last year or so, but that didn't erase his entire life before that. Eraline may not have been a perfect parent, but she was still his mother.

He tried not to think about the fact that she would never be there for him again...

Mike sighed guiltily, before cuddling right up to Tai's pensive form. "Listen, Tai," he said firmly. "I'll hug you. I'll watch movies with you. I'll forgive you. I'll listen to you and I care what you think! You're not alone anymore." He touched his nose to Tai's. "You're not stupid, you're really smart. That's why I like you. I don't care how many times you did whatever grade. And you've made plenty of friends here. Jake. Me. Ciaran really likes you. And so do Ernie, Aaron and Mills!" He laughed. "My dad loves you!"

Tai looked only semi-convinced. "You don't know me that well," he disagreed pessimistically, rubbing at an eye.

"And did the jerks who picked on you know you any better?"

The tawny pup blinked a few times.

"Trust me," Mike said, saying those words that Tai despised, as he shifted his position until he was almost straddling the little cub. Tai didn't mind. Being pinned under his bigger, protective friend was something he'd long discovered he liked. "I know you well enough."

All of a sudden, Tai giggled. "Alright," he said finally. Mike could tell that Tai was trying to deflect the subject. That was alright though, it was probably time to let Tai think about other things. "What else did you want to know?"

Immediately, Mike had his next question ready. "Why the heck did you have four different schools? Isn't that..."

"A different school a year," interjected Tai. "Mom kept changing my schools."

"Why?"

"I dunno."

"Huh..." Mike sat down on the smaller boy's hips. "Weird."

Tai cocked an ear. "My turn. Why are you so mad with your dad?"

"Wha-?" Mike raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I'm not!"

"You aren't? But what about the night you picked me up from the hospital...?"

Mike gulped ruefully. It was surprising that Tai didn't ask about this sooner. "Oh, that. It's just... I- uh..." This was surprisingly hard to put into words for the articulate vulpine kit. "The ferret... the one that fell in front of the car? Remember?"

"Uh-huh."

"That was- I mean, I'm pretty sure it was the guy who, you know." He stopped and his hazel eyes went a little glazed. "Who mugged me."

"What? Really?"

"Yeah."

Mike looked away. This was exactly the god-damn subject he didn't want to think about, but after making Tai relive his own nasty memories, he could hardly refuse to answer. "I think that dad knew him," he breathed. "There's so much he hasn't told me. I don't know what's going on!" The older boy's voice cracked too now. "I'm scared to think about it."

"Why don't you ask him?"

"Because I don't want to know!" Mike replied, sounding almost pleading. In that uncanny way of Mike's, he no longer sounded like a child at all. It was much less charming at the moment, though. "What if dad knew all along who did it? What if he was... in on it?! Why didn't he tell me he knew the guy? Or that he knew your mom?"

Tai reached up and touched Mike's muzzle. "Why would you think this stuff?" he asked bluntly, though his leafy eyes were wide with compassion. "Your dad wouldn't wanna hurt you. Your dad loves you."

"I don't know." Mike hung his head. "It's all too strange. I think I should be allowed to know these things. Dad's always said that he never wanted to keep secrets from me like I was a dumb kit. But he kept this from me."

Leaning forwards, Tai literally yanked his best friend down on top of him and held him in a tight hug with his skinny arms. "It's okay..." he said uselessly.

Mike accepted the hug, but shook his head. "It's not okay," he said softly. "It's not. Nothing's okay. So much I don't know..."

"Me neither. I wish someone would tell us..."

The two kits lay like this for a moment, before finally Mike pushed away, sitting up once again. "I love talking to you," he said warmly. "But I don't want tonight to be sad, so let's stop talking about this stuff. I wanted to keep you happy tonight."

"You have." Tai smiled wanly. "I've never been able to talk like this."

"I've got an idea for how we can make tonight even happier." Mike loomed over the tawny kit, sliding down his body and pressing a little harder against him. "Do you want to?"

The emerald eyes widened, locking right on to his own, and Tai's smile widened. "Yes!"

Their noses touched. "Alright then..."

With a cheeky grin, Mike slipped both arms underneath Tai's t-shirt, resting his forearms on the fluffy chest-fur. Together, they took off the shirt, which had a few tiny grass-stains on it; testaments to the fun they had at the park.

Shirtless, Tai immediately grabbed Mike's shirt hem too, and lifted it up. Mike allowed the littler kit to remove his top too, raising his arms above his head and leaning forwards. "Team work," he giggled.

Those skinny arms snaked around his chest again, pulling him down insistently. Tai pressed his chest to Mike's and sighed deeply. "Hmm."

Mike closed his eyes and rested his cheek on Tai's. "What's up?" he breathed.

Soon, a pair of slender legs wrapped around his waist too. "I want a hug," Tai said weakly. "And I can feel your heart..."

The brown furred fox boy laughed quietly, and fell silent, listening intently. "Hey... I can feel yours too."

"Don't be silly, I don't have a heart." Tai shyly nibbled Mike's ear. "I'm a robot."

"Then you're one hot robot." Mike pushed up, separating them slightly and looking down on his friend. "Oh man."

Tai smiled at him, reaching up to place his paws on the older boy's shoulders and letting his legs drop. He pressed his own body into the mattress and inhaled deeply. "What?"

Laughing, Mike snagged Tai in a massive hug again. "What did you wanna do?" he asked, grinning. He started to push and rub his groin against Tai's, to Tai's surprise.

"Ah..." Tai gasped, spreading his legs some more, elevating his hips slightly. "Hey, that feels nice. Even through our pants."

Almost as soon as he said that, Mike's paws yanked down his track-pants, exposing Tai's boxers. "Let's see how much better it is..." Mike removed his own jeans, and hurled both items of clothing onto the floor before resuming his previous position.

Tai groaned and writhed on the bed. The cooler air in the room was tingling through his exposed legs and upper body, permeating his fur and skin. He could feel Mike's penis and groin press and rub against his own through the smooth fabric, and he could tell both of them were quickly stiffening.

But he paused and pushed Mike gently backwards. A bit confused, Mike leaned back and looked at the kit curiously. "What's wrong?"

Tai looked full into Mike's face.

So much had changed so fast. As he looked at Mike now, the little gulf that had existed before was entirely gone. Mike was no longer the confident, smarter, older, dominating boy that he didn't really, truly know that well. Now they... were best friends. Equals, both looking to one another for comfort. Now they were both after the same things.

Mike was now a friend the likes of which he'd never even considered that he could have.

He didn't think it in so many words, but he perceived that this really was what love was.

"Mike..." he said, choked up slightly. "Can I say something?"

The barky kit blinked. "Sure."

"I love you. You're my best friend... ever." The green eyes watered, but Tai smiled. "Don't leave me. Please. Don't let your dad throw me out. I don't want to go."

"I'll do whatever I can," Mike promised instantly. "I don't want you to go."

"I trust you." Tai pulled Mike right back into his position again.

Mike laughed. "That's the first time I've heard you say that and sound like you really mean it." He nosed Tai's neck. "So, what did you want to do?"

Tai grinned, aware his breathing was picking up. It was exactly as he'd said in the change-room showers... Mike made him feel so strange at times. So suddenly inclined to snuggle up to him, to press into his warm, bigger body, to do something about the glowing feeling in his lower stomach that now was usually accompanied by a swift erection. "Whatever you want to do," he said bashfully. "I'm all yours. It all makes me feel good."

There was a moment of silence while Mike stared at him. "Whoa," he finally gasped, his voice shaky. Tai guessed astutely that he wasn't the only one who was made to feel weird in these situations. "That's just... Wow. Um, well said."

Tai had to giggle. Mike was stunned by his perfectly worded surrender.

He meant it though. The brown-furred older pup, so mature, so smart, so strong and funny... Tai'd let him do whatever he wanted now; this time, there was no fear, no confusion.

Mike's head was spinning a little. This was the first time they'd really been in this situation since the night before they both went swimming. The revelation that had come that day, when Tai had seemed to accept his feelings totally in the showers, was evident right now.

The littler kit was sprawled beneath him, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he breathed from his slightly open mouth. Long head-fur messily framing his delicate, angular muzzle and warm green eyes, Tai looked up at him with total trust and a loving little smile.

His unusually colored fur seemed to glow slightly in the light from Mike's bedside lamp. A repressed corona of a sort, while a slight shadow fell across the pup's form. Mike felt himself wishing he had a camera again.

"Tai, you're incredible," Mike said baldly.

Tai looked up silently for a few seconds. "No, you are," he disagreed. "I still can't believe you're real."

Mike immediately licked the younger kit's nose and sighed. "That was for real," he mumbled dryly.

The grinding ceased and Mike pulled back slightly, easily undoing the flies on both their boxers. Without a word, he withdrew both of their sensitive members.

Tai watched breathlessly as Mike touched them together and began stroking both of them at a slow pace, occasionally rolling them together between a palm. Eventually, he laid back and sighed contently. "That feels nice..." he said quietly.

Mike mewled himself, pushing back the foreskins and letting the smooth, rounded tips rub together. He was looking at the twitching organs intently, appreciating the form and feel.

He briefly considered tying the little kit up again. After all, Tai had said he liked it. But there was something... strange about this time. It was such a tender moment. Such stuff didn't feel right at this time.

Instead, Mike leaned forwards and gave Tai a gentle kiss, which the younger pup instantly responded to.

He placed his barky-furred paws on his best friend's shoulders and slowly rubbed them down the slender arms, as Tai sighed his approval. Mike then returned to the white-fluffed chest, and begun rubbing down the length of Tai's slim torso before snagging the pup's blue boxers and pulling them down slowly.

Without a pause, Tai raised his hips to help and Mike easily tugged the little boxers down and off those legs. "Jeez," he said in a warm tone. "You're skinny. And small."

Tai giggled and stretched out on the bed, showing off to Mike just how skinny he was. "I'm allowed to be," he replied in the same tone. "I'm eight and a fox. So there."

Mike removed his own boxers, joining Tai in his nudity before getting right back into his position between the little legs and once more picking up where he left off. "I'd have you no other way. Everything about you is just exactly what I like."

Without pausing for a response, Mike nosed into Tai's fuzzy armpit playfully before letting his tongue slip out to tease the sensitive button on Tai's chest near there.

"Ooh!" Tai whispered.

Mike moved to the next one, not stopping until they both were wet and stiff. "Does it feel nice?"

"Uh-huh."

"Alright... then I guess this does too." Mike slid down a little, before easily engulfing the smaller kit's penis in his muzzle and suckling for a moment as Tai writhed in reply. Yet after only a few seconds he pulled away and grinned at Tai.

The little kit looked at him slightly reproachfully. "Jerk."

With a laugh, Mike slipped out from between Tai's legs and lay next to him. Shoulders touching, both on their backs, he laid the nearest arm around Tai's neck and hugged him close. The other paw slipped across and enveloped the little stiffy. "Here," he said archly. "Let's both do it like this."

Beaming, Tai shifted a little closer, laying his head on Mike's chest and likewise placing his opposite paw onto Mike's bared erection. At the exact same moment they begun stroking and tugging slowly.

"This feels nice..." Tai moaned, nuzzling at Mike's chest. His legs suddenly ensnared Mike's nearest, and he turned onto his side a little, giving Mike easier access. "It's like a snuggle, only even nicer."

They lay together in this manner for a few minutes, before Tai pushed away suddenly yet again. "Wait..." he said.

With a sultry grin, he straddled Mike's belly and snickered.

"What's on your mind?" Mike enquired, content to see what Tai's plan was.

Tai's reply was simply to lean down and snuffle at Mike's chest, using his nose and a paw to search through the silky smooth fur. Soon, his target located, he started to lap at it slowly.

With a gasp, Mike pressed his chest upwards reflexively. "Oh!"

It did indeed feel nice. Tai was a quick learner, and he was bestowing the same treatment to Mike as Mike had done to him, only with his smaller tongue. It trailed around and over the fleshy bump, each time it traversed the touchy area brought a groan from Mike.

Naturally, Tai only did this for a few moments before grinning and sitting back.

A little breathless, Mike had to laugh. "Jerk!" he chortled. Tai shrugged and stretched in such a sensual manner it was obvious it was for Mike's benefit. The older boy felt his breath stop. Tai really was a fast learner!

Swiveling around on top, Tai settled down and beheld Mike's penis, erect and tasty. "I'm gonna suck your lollipop," he said cheerily, adjusting position until he could comfortably do so. And then he did.

The barky furred kit shuddered when he felt it. Tai licked and suckled for a moment or two, before maintaining an air-tight seal and beginning to lick up and down the length of it. The small, warm muzzle was just heaven.

Mike groaned softly and relaxed. He looked wistfully at the pup's groin above him. Then he cackled.

Two strong arms encircled Tai's lower back and waist, holding him firm as a tongue swiped at his fluffy scrotum. Tai yipped in surprise. Though he refused to cease sucking.

The tongue started to do more than swipe then. Mike was pressing on the testes, pushing them around, pulling them down with his muzzle, and lapping at the sensitive space at the back of the scrotum. Both the pups were panting and moaning happily.

Soon Mike shook and whimpered, as Tai almost casually made him orgasm with just that little tongue. "Oh!" he exclaimed, his knees bending as he tensed. "Geez!"

Tai let the wet object in his muzzle free for a moment, but it was only a temporary respite. With a big shuddering breath, he quickly enveloped the still hard penis again with his tongue.

"Mrrmph!" whined Mike, squirming a little. He wriggled his toes, trying to distract himself from the increased sensitivity that had come in the wake of his dry climax. Challenging himself to endure it, to let Tai continue as he clearly wanted to.

The older fox-boy groaned aloud and realized he was shaking now. Had Tai not given him that brief break before continuing, there was no way Mike could've endured it.

His heart skipped a beat when he looked up and saw Tai's tiny butt.

An idea flew into his head, but he instantly batted it back out. It flew back in. He swallowed and wrestled with the idea for a few moments.

Meanwhile, Tai was happily, if a little smugly, sucking away at the sensitive pole. His eyes were closed and he chortled as he licked and suckled. He thought it'd be fun to treat Mike the way Mike usually did him. He owed Mike, and he enjoyed doing this, so no problem!

However, he squealed when he felt something that was almost certainly a tongue lick right under his tail. It missed his tail-hole by only an inch at most. Then the tongue attacked again, and this time it didn't miss. He whined plaintively but he didn't want to stop what he was doing.

Mike's voice from behind him sounded stunned. "Whoa, I just did that?" he gasped. "I-I didn't taste a thing! Ha-ha!"

Tai gulped nervously. That was something new alright. If Mike wanted to do it, he wouldn't object, but... that was a little icky. Wasn't it?

Mike did it again, still somewhat apprehensively. The tongue pressed firmly against Tai's anus, licking the muscular ring wetly. Tai gasped and groaned, falling forward slightly. It felt somewhere between icky and wonderful... closer to wonderful. He couldn't pull away; Mike still had his arms locked around Tai's hips!

Mike grinned. Tai, despite the incredible weirdness of the act, was still diligently slurping away down there, refusing to let Mike break his concentration. "Blech," he joked, poking at the butt cheeks of the skinny little cub. "If you fart, I'll tickle you until you die from it. You like it?"

"Y-yeah..." Tai mewed quietly, taking a short break. "It feels weird. It doesn't taste gross...?"

"Ha-ha!" Mike laughed heartily, almost unable to believe it himself. "Nope! There's nothing here, Tai!" But Mike most definitely didn't want to press his luck here. The ick-factor could easily go straight through the roof for him. "But, um, I'd rather do this..."

He changed his angle of approach and instead lapped at Tai's erection. It was kind of par for the course, but it wasn't as icky. Mike's list was still largely untouched, so it was alright to take his time.

The tawny boy whined and raised his backside a little to let Mike have his way. It was funny, he realized: even when he was on top, Mike controlled the action, and he was more than willing to accept that. That new thing he'd just done was interesting, but not as interesting as the fact that Tai couldn't really make himself move away when he did it. That made him feel tingly all over!

He finally pulled away from Mike's dick, and the older boy sighed. "Aww!"

Tai snickered and spun back around, plopping onto the bed alongside Mike once again. "What now, Mikey?" he asked softly, smiling tenderly.

"Good question." Mike rolled over and hugged Tai to him. "I'm tired, but I want you to have an orgasm too."

An eyebrow above one of those emerald eyes was raised and an ear was perked. "Is that what that nice feeling is called, is it?"

"Yeah, didn't I tell you that?"

"You might have."

Sitting up, Mike grinned. "Memory like a sieve." He straddled the kit's waist once again and grasped the skinny wrists. He noted absently that they were doing a lot of switching position tonight. "Can I say something?"

"No!" Tai replied immediately, grinning impishly.

"I'm gonna anyway. I love you." Mike laughed and leaned in for a quick nose-lick. "And if you don't like that, then too bad."

The brown-furred kit shifted a little until once more he was between Tai's legs. Tai quickly spread his long, slender appendages out on the bed, and as Mike looked down the furry body he could see the kit's wet little stiffy.

So once more he resumed pumping both of them in his paws at the same time.

"Mmm..." Mike commented. "The skin is so smooth, huh? Feels good touching them together."

"Uh-huh." Tai closed his eyes and pushed his hips upward. "Nhhn."

Chuckling, Mike once more wrapped his muzzle around Tai's little penis. It wasn't anything new and exciting, but it felt good, and that's what both of them wanted--needed right now. Mike shut his eyes briefly. Oh, this was just great...

The littler fox boy writhed and groaned for only a few moments before he gave a hoarse cry. Mike finished up strong as always, sucking hard on the small, quivering shaft and watching along Tai's body just so he could take in the kit's response.

As usual, Tai seemed overwhelmed by the sensation. It made Mike whimper just to see the sensual little fox-boy like that, stretching out and arching his back on top of the covers before finally lying still but for a slight tremble.

With a laugh, Mike separated again and flopped almost on top of the warm body before him. "Ooh, that feel good?" he asked redundantly. Tai nodded, breathing deeply and looking up at the roof.

Mike snuggled the smaller kit to him. "Good."

Tai sighed, wrapping himself around Mike's body and nearest leg like a tawny furred octopus. "I think I need to sleep now."

"Me too..." Mike pawed at the younger pup's ears. "But we need to get under the covers. It'll be way too cold otherwise."

"Ugh. Do I have to move?"

"Uh, I think so..."

"Can we cuddle?"

"Definitely!"

Eventually, Mike pulled himself and the sluggish Tai under his thick quilt. Once more, they fell asleep in the warmth and comfort of one another's arms.

That was getting to be a habit...

And frankly, neither of them minded in the least.

Chapter 9

The next morning, Mike stirred and finally cracked his eyes open. He'd been warm and comfortable all night, but just recently, something had changed to make him a little less cozy. The bed had gotten colder, and when he felt around for a certain 'thing' to snuggle up to and regain some of his previous warmth, it wasn't there for him.

"Hrnmm?" he moaned, sitting up sleepily and stretching. The bed was empty aside from his very own self. Tai was up and about.

Sighing in resignation, Mike threw back his covers and stood. It was obviously time to get up; the early-morning sun was shining tentatively through heavy gray clouds into his room. It looked like it was going to rain a little.

He slipped into his warm green and white cotton pajamas, even though he hadn't worn them to bed. They were nearby and comfortable.

When he ambled into the den, he spotted Tai sitting cross-legged on the carpet and actually dressed, an old plain dark-blue shirt and faded jeans, in front of the television. He was watching a cartoon that vaguely tickled Mike's memory somehow. "Good morning, Tai!" he said, yawning as he joined the younger kit. A strange watermark at the bottom of the television screen claimed it was quarter past seven.

Tai looked over at him and smiled. A genuine smile. "Morning!" he piped. "Your dad's up too."

"He gets up really early every day." Mike frowned at the television. Colorful mythical creatures seemed to be battling at the behest of a bunch of kits about his age, in the middle of a small town's street. "Is this...? Umm... what was it called again?"

Tai nodded immediately. "Battle Eidolon ZERO." He pointed at the screen. "I've missed lots. They've nearly caught the leader of the Emerald Knights. Last time I watched, they didn't know who it was. Turns out it was the guy who let them stay in his garage when they first got to the town. I thought he was a cool guy, but he's an eidolon smuggler."

"I don't usually get up this early. Dad lets me sleep till nine unless I have practice. Is the show any good?"

Tai grinned. "I tried not to wake you."

"It's okay. You didn't really." Mike shrugged.

"This is my favorite television show. It's good." Tai fixed his eyes to the screen again. Then he looked a little sheepish. "Um, did you want to watch something?"

"Nuh-uh. You can keep watching. I usually don't get up this early. I'll watch with you if you want?"

Tai tried and failed to hide his excitement. "Sure!" He scooted a little closer to Mike. "I'll explain stuff."

Mike casually draped an arm over the smaller kit's shoulders. The very idea of having someone to watch his favorite show with just thrilled Tai, and it seemed that he'd finally been able to wake up happy. That meant that Mike had succeeded, and succeeding always made him feel great. He was just one of those furs.

At first, Mike was mostly just feigning interest. He wasn't a fan of television, preferring more active forms of entertainment, like his swimming, video games or playing with toys; television was just too sedentary for him. Too boring. He even preferred books or comics, because at least then his mind was at work.

But as the show went on, he found his interest building. It really wasn't too bad. Watching immensely powerful mythical creatures tear each other up with obscenely flashy energy maneuvers and savage physical onslaughts had its own appeal, but the characters were well acted and the plot seemed substantial.

"Mom used to get up really early for work before we moved," Tai said all of a sudden. "I had to get up a bit later for school, so I watched TV alone in the morning before I went."

Mike bit his tongue before he could ask why Tai even bothered going to school if his mom wasn't at the door shooing him out. With a cattle-prod. "Oh, I get ya."

Robert walked in from his study, whistling quietly. "Morning, boys," he said. "How are we this drizzly morning?"

"Good," Mike replied, his eyes fixed on a gigantic phoenix-thing made of shimmering light as it whirled high into the air to shower its foes with flaming rain.

The grown up paused. "Good show?" he asked, slightly puzzled.

"It's okay." Mike finally looked over and grinned. "Kinda cool."

"Oh no. You're not going to become a television junkie, are you?"

Mike laughed brightly. "Nope!"

With a chuckle, Robert sat behind the boys on the leather couch. "I don't usually see you up this early unless you have practice, Mike," he pointed out as he tried to follow the confusing light-show on the screen. "How about you, Tai? What time do you get up in the morning normally?"

"Half past six," Tai answered, eyes locked on the screen. "School used to start at about eight fifteen."

Robert snickered. "To think I thought Mike was an early-bird. That's about when he'd wake up." He paused. "Though I've never seen him complain about getting up quite early for training."

Mike shuddered. "That doesn't mean I wanna do that every morning!" he whined plaintively. "It's too cold!"

"I'm sure that doesn't bother Tai in the least. Alaska probably makes this place seem like the Bahamas. Isn't that right, Tai?"

The tawny kit seemed to cringe for a second. "Umm, like what?"

"It's a bunch of tropical islands a bit south east of America. It's a popular holiday destination."

Frowning, Tai thought about it. "Well..." he said hesitantly. "I-it can be warm in Alaska."

"I was being figurative, Tai," Robert chortled. "New York is nothing like a tropical island, believe me. It's pretty much winter now, so you'll get to see the worst weather we have to offer here in a little while."

The commercials cut in, and Mike giggled. "That's right!" he suddenly exclaimed. "We've never asked you what Alaska's like."

Tai jumped. "What it's like?" he repeated, ears flattening. "Uh, how do you mean?"

Robert straightened slightly. This topic could still be very painful to the younger boy. The grownup prepared to divert the conversation at the first sign of distress.

"Does it snow all the time there?"

"No. Not all the time." Tai furrowed his brow in confusion. It wasn't even close to snowing all the time. There was a summer and spring back in Alaska, so sometimes it was very warm. He'd never run into someone who thought it always snowed.

"Aww. Does it snow hard when it does?"

"Oh, I guess it does." Tai reflected on that. Mike had probably never been literally stuck indoors as a blizzard raged on outside and sealed his family away from outside contact for two days. He'd actually liked it when that happened: at least there was no way to make him go to school when that happened. If only it happened more often. "Sometimes. When it got really bad, you couldn't open the doors or windows, and even if you could, you couldn't go anywhere outside."

"That sounds neat. Well, sometimes it would be. Not all the time, of course."

"Where exactly did you live, Tai?" Robert enquired. "Your mom wasn't very specific."

The tawny kit thought hard. Geography was not his favorite topic. "Um, you know where Anchorage is?"

"Yes."

"We lived, um, to- to the left a bit. And up. On the map."

Mike sniggered. "You mean north-west."

The younger kit flushed. "Um, yeah. Y-you could see the mountains from my room. They usually had snow on them."

"The Alaska Ranges. No wonder you got some nasty weather so close to them." Robert tapped a pair of fingers together. "Wait a tick," he murmured. "You got up before seven? School started at quarter past eight? How far away was your school?"

Tai shrugged. "My first school was nearer, but the next two were a long walk away."

"How long a walk? Guess?"

"Umm... it took me nearly an hour. I usually got there as the bell rang." Tai shifted slightly. He didn't really like thinking about Alaska anymore. He wasn't going back there, and now he didn't really want to - there was nothing for him there, never was, and now he could see that. On some strange level, he wanted to cut everything loose; go somewhere where he could let go. But he couldn't go anywhere or do anything.

"Whoo. Walking for an hour in winter mornings must've been fun. Was the sun even up?"

Tai shook his head. "Not always. But sometimes it, um, it was up."

Much to Tai's shock, Mike grinned hugely. "That sounds awesome!" he exulted.

"Mike, are you telling me that you'd like to be woken up at quarter to seven during a blizzard and sent for an hour long walk in the snow and dark?" Rob enquired mildly. "Because I think it'd get old very fast, personally."

"You should've snowboarded to school every day!" Mike chortled. "Even in the dark!"

"Snowboarding stuff is way too expensive," responded Tai immediately. "We couldn't afford it. I looked."

They chatted on for a minute or so, Tai trying his best to describe his old home. It wasn't easy - though there were many difference between his former home and the sleepless city he found himself in now, Tai found himself at a loss to describe it all. It was hard to relate things to Mike in particular, though the older boy was listening intently; he'd never experienced anything aside from living in this densely packed, vertical metropolis.

Yet even still, Tai felt a glowing warmth settling comfortably in his chest. He was still so unused to this attention. The conversation. Being welcome to discuss things with others, especially an adult.

Eventually, Robert sat forward and stretched. "Alright, I'm going to put on a real brekky." He eyed Mike critically. "You're not going to be sitting around in your pajamas all morning, are you Mike?"

Mike, looking at the TV, rolled his eyes. "No, dad."

"Don't roll your eyes at me, Michael," Robert told him gently. "I don't do it to you."

The pup laughed and stood. "I didn't mean it, dad!" he promised, hugging his father tightly.

Rob squeezed just a little. "Well, is being smart really a good idea when you're in those pajamas?" He slipped his paws underneath the kit's armpits. "They don't offer much protection."

Instantly, Mike yelped and burst out laughing as his father easily tickled him into submission, laying him out on the couch beside him. "Okay!" he blurted, flailing just a little. "I'm sorry! Ha-ha-ha! Stop!"

Rob mercifully did, leaning forwards and giving his son a quick lick on the nose. "Good. After breakfast, get into some real clothing then." The grownup shot a grin at Tai.

Tai just gave a small, wistful smile in reply. Those were things he'd miss, he knew. So few and far between they had been, and now he'd never experience those warm embraces again. He turned resolutely back to the screen.

There was a rustle behind him, but before he could turn to look...

"Goooin' up!" He heard Robert say, and two strong paws slipped under his arms, lifting him high off the ground with almost no effort.

Robert scooped Tai up easily and sat back down next to his own son, the smaller kit on his lap. "You looked a little lonely there, Tai," he explained rationally. "Like you needed a hug or something." He squeezed the little boy firmly.

Surprised and confused, Tai tried to pull away for the briefest moment. Robert hadn't done anything like this before. However, when he realized what was happening, he surrendered to the embrace and held it closed tight with his own paws. The young boy felt strange, however.

Not uncomfortable, not exactly - not nervous, even though Robert was still almost a stranger to him. No... the opposite.

Like he had somehow wanted this moment for so long; and never wanted it to end.

They stayed like this for a few moments, before Robert gave the tawny fox boy a tender lick behind the ear.

"Alright." Grinning warmly, Robert deposited Tai alongside Mike, and he put both of their paws in his lap so they could lie comfortably. "Your show's about to come back on soon and I need to get the food goin'. How long has the show got left?"

Tai looked over Mike's chest at the screen, apparently a little flustered. "T-twelve minutes."

"Gotcha." The adult gave both pups a very brief rub on each of their paws before standing. "Be good."

"Never!" Mike exclaimed indignantly.

The deli door clanked open noisily, and the skunk crept inside.

He put his paws resolutely in his hooded-top's pouch and swallowed. "What the hell am I doin'?" he groaned at himself, approaching the counter.

The tartan curtain parted and the grizzled old badger stepped up behind the counter. His eyes alighted on the skunk and hardened like two little agates. "You!" he growled, reaching down for something concealed behind the wooden surface.

The twelve-gauge was in his hands in moments, and he swung it until it pointed right at the teenager.

Wayle flinched away. "W-wait!" he cried, hands raised. "Don't shoot! Shit!"

"Whaddaya want, kid? Come by to settle the score? Steal some more?"

Wayle actually whimpered. Facing the business end of a shotgun is always extremely emasculating. "No! Look, I just got in here! I don't have anything on me! No weapons, no stuff, nothin'!"

The wary badger kept the barrel on the teen. He was not insane; normally he'd never even consider pointing this thing at a living creature, but it was definitely not unheard of for young foolhardy 'gang-members' to kill or maim in order to save face in the eyes of their group. The storekeeper had been around too long for him to idly let that happen to him.

"Look," Wayle pleaded, with his paws still up in the air. "I just wanted to talk. Don't shoot me, c'mon! Shit, all I did was walk into the store, man!"

"Talk?" repeated the storekeeper, one eyebrow raising. "Why would I talk to a punk like you? After seeing you tryin' to knife a little kit, you think I'd listen to a word?"

Wayle shook his head vehemently. "No, man, no! Look, I didn't ever want to really hurt that kid." He eyed the barrel for a second. "C-could you, like, point that a bit to the side or somethin'?"

The badger did that... by about three degrees. "Speak your piece and just get the hell out, Wayle."

The skunk swallowed again. "Look, that little kit? It wasn't me that wuz trying to kill him. I just... wanted to scare him a bit." He shook his head. "It was Darron. He's crazy, man."

"That's nice."

"I-I didn't wanna steal nothing from you..." Wayle said weakly. "The others were making me."

"Bullshit. Kid, just tell 'em no when they're trying to make you do shit you don't want to." The badger shook his head. "It's no excuse."

Wayle bit his lip. He looked distraught, but oddly determined. "It's not that simple. You can't just say 'no' and think everything'll be alright. S-sometimes it's like you're just... trapped..." The skunk closed his eyes. "You can call me weak if you want, man, but if it's between bein' the one they rip into the next time or stealin' a few packs of cigs and nobody gettin' hurt, the choice is tougher than you'd think.

"You can't just... just sit on the outside and say it's easy coz it ain't." He directed his watery gaze at the storekeeper, and when he spoke next his customary urban drawl was gone. "You'd never believe what you can do when things go that way, you know?"

The badger blinked. He lowered his gun a little more and stared at the teen for a few moments. "Nah," he murmured. "I get what you mean. What did you want from me?"

"I'm sorry. For real. Nobody's making me say this, I ain't frontin'. I got nothing against you; I shouldn't have touched your stuff without paying for it. I don't even smoke. That shit stinks." Wayle drew in a breath. "Uh, but... do you know where Darron's gone? Nobody's seen him for ages."

The old badger frowned in confusion. "Why the hell would I know?"

"I-I dunno. Didn't the cops ask you to make a statement or anything? You might've found something out."

"Nope, I got nothing for you. Well... what happened to you?"

Wayle laughed wryly. "Uh, I got off this time," he said quietly. "Went easy on me. Eight months community service." He sighed. "I'm two outta three. Next up, is two years for me in juvie. Probably no parole or anythin'."

The world-weary badger sighed. Wayle was clearly not that bad a kid. He was probably right... in over his head, it was not easy to back out, and now it was all catching up to him. Two years of his life could be wasted if he screwed up again, and Wayle was probably only seventeen or sixteen.

Maybe it was for the best, the badger reasoned. Provided things went well, maybe the detention center would be the best thing for the kid. Give him a chance to get away from his school and the others. Or maybe instead it'd lock him in with exactly the type of furs he needs to get away from.

"I guess he's probably behind bars then," he offered to the teen. "He'd have gone over his three long ago, Wayle."

Wayle nodded. "I guess so," he said softly. "Nobody seems to know."

"Why do you care, Wayle? Darron's an asshole."

"I know, but..." Wayle paused. "Even though I know he'd probably not give a shit if it was me... I still hope he's okay, you know? I'm sick of this shit. Everythin's fine and then we have to go do something stupid. An' I'm sittin' there for weeks after, wonderin' why we just had to go fuck it all up. We didn't have to. Darron came along two years ago, out of fuckin' nowhere, and he just... made everythin' worse. But everyone always goes along with him."

"Why don't you talk to your parents and get out of all this?" the badger suddenly demanded, baffled and annoyed. "Sort this shit out! You're not a bad kid. So why don't you sort this out?"

"Talk to who?" Wayle shrugged. "I don't even know who my dad is, and when I go home, mom'll be fucked up and spaced out on the couch. Always is. Nothin' I say gets through now. I-I'll go now, aight? Don't wanna get on your nerves. Sorry. Thanks for listenin'. I just had to say it. It didn't feel right to leave things as they was."

The armed store-owner had no words for that.

The teen moved to shamble back out the door, but he paused halfway there. "Y-you know," he said softly, "I saw that kit at school--the fox. Wuz his first day. He was scared and alone." Suddenly he laughed; a sour, resentful laugh that seemed to come from a very dark place. "I was like that, every day. He was a nice kid, I'm sure, but I've seen it all before, man. Someday, he'd have grabbed on to whatever bunch woulda taken him, and for a kit as poor as him in that school, that means guys like... like us.

"I hope it don't happen. But that little kit could end up like a fuckin' idiot that does what others tell him to, no matter how fuckin' stupid it is, cuz he wants them to like his weak ass. Too pussy to step outta line in case they smack you back down. Scared to admit you'd rather read a book than swagger around like a dipshit at the mall an' have a fucked up life, poppin' drugs and starting shit with everyone. I ain't ever gonna make a difference, an' I know this shit. Because the world changed me, an' I'm too fuckin' weak to change the world. Everyone is." He turned and wiped his nose.

"And if you've heard anyone say or do differently, well, fuck 'em," he added bitterly, as he started to move towards the door again. "They were just lucky."

The shopkeeper sighed and placed the gun down underneath the counter. "Wayle."

"Yeah?"

"Name's Bradley. Why don't you come by once in a while?"

Wayle looked stunned. "W-wha-?"

"Yeah. Alone, and don't steal nothing." Bradley grinned. "I think I gotta keep an eye on you. In the store and outside."

After a few shocked seconds, Wayle gave him a wan little smile. "Cool. A'ight."

The teenaged skunk left silently, and Bradley the shop-keeping badger looked down at his old, callused paws. A moment later, he grunted and leaned against the countertop. Staring at the closed shop door.

"Lucky, eh?"

Robert stared at the toaster blankly, watching the air above it ripple and warp as the heat rose.

Strangely, as his eyes unfocused, a memory intruded itself with startling clarity. The smallest most insignificant details were recreated faithfully in his mind's eye, and somehow he found himself over eight years ago. Tom and Eraline had spoken with him in this very apartment before they left for San Francisco. Eraline had been rocking the cooing baby Tai in her arms, wrapped up comfortably. He was something like a month old at this point, barely any fur on him, and Eraline held him like he was the most precious object in the world. Naturally, to her he was.

"It could happen at any time," she'd insisted to Robert. "It's not that we want it to, of course, but, well...you know..."

Tom had stepped in at that point, laying a gentle paw on Eraline's shoulder. "Look, we'd be honored if you'd watch after Tai," he had said. "He's got no grandparents or anything here. But you and Haley are the closest... closest things to family we've had over here. So, uh, what I'm trying to say is, will you be his, umm... what was called again, honey? Ha-ha!"

"Godparents, I think they call them," Eraline supplied, grinning tolerantly.

"Sorry. I'm not good at being sentimental. You know that; gets me all flustered."

"I remember your last attempt at a speech, yes. Robert, listen. They're moving us. California, next week."

Robert had shaken his head, he remembered, grinning a little facetiously. "So I've heard. It doesn't matter. Remember: wherever you go, if anything happens, I'll try to be there for you. Unless you end up in Britain that is. All bets are off then, I'm not bloody going back there if you dragged me."

Then Tom narrowed his emerald eyes slightly, but started to smirk. "It's impossible to tell if you're serious or not sometimes."

"Then I'll be serious. Tom, I'd be honored more than I can say- and I'm quite the word-smith- to watch over your son, no matter what. But I hope you don't plan on dying any time soon."

"I plan on dying fifty years from now at least, surrounded by hordes of happy, well-fed grand-kits, but it's the unplanned we're worried about."

"I'll take care of Tai if anything happens, I swear it. Just be careful. I know you can't tell me what they've got you doing in California, but I'm getting a strong sense of danger from it. And that's abnormal."

Their shared, guilty looks had told him he was right.

The toaster's springs uncoiled, and the bread popped half a foot up into the air, startling Robert out of his reverie. The memory, vivid in his mind moments before, swam before him and melted away and he was left staring unfocusedly at the white, smoking kitchen appliance.

They were gone now. Two of his first friends in America, his best friends ever, and he didn't even know why they'd died.

He laughed aloud as he retrieved the slightly blackened toast. Tom always used to complain about his habit of mock seriousness and sarcasm. Now that Robert thought about it, Mike had inherited it; he was already a master of it. He had to wonder what Tai had inherited from his parents.

Come to think it, it wasn't much of a mystery.

When Eraline had first returned to New York, they met up at a restaurant only a night after she'd taken her little boy back upstairs with her. She was run off her feet and struck him as a little vague but they both reconfirmed their mutually resolve to keep their old friendship secret from their sons for the moment. The truth would've been a lot to take in, they'd reasoned, especially if they were totally honest.

In only a single meeting, Robert had gleaned much from her. They had had a lot to catch up on, so they spoke to one another almost all night, with Eraline almost desperate to talk to him about everything she could before she had to drive home and sleep.

It was at that point that Robert had started to worry.

From what Robert could tell, Eraline still bore the scars of losing her husband four years ago, and she had changed; she seemed to be perpetually haunted now, and her morbid work was starting to dominate her life. Robert was not surprised to see that she seemed disinterested in just about everything but soullessly eking out each day as it came.

She was dying inside.

Eraline hinted that she and her son were becoming remote; that the former joy of her life traded maybe a dozen words with her a day. But Rob had got nothing much more out of her; Eraline was always a bit tight lipped. It was like trying to get words from a block of ice sometimes.

Absurdly, she complained about her son doing likewise to her. Distant as they had become, and with Tai sealing up more and more with every passing month, Robert had to wonder if Eraline truly knew her son in her last days.

On some level, Robert knew that she looked at Tai's beautiful face and saw her husband - her love turning to loss. Once, she said that her son couldn't possibly understand their situation; she spoke of him as a mindless child that demanded her attention and drained her more every day. It was a far cry from the adoring words she had used to use when discussing her beloved progeny.

But it was obviously wrong. Tai seemed to understand much, and he was just keeping himself to himself. His own problems and troubles and feelings, he kept quiet about, which confused and frustrated his mother. Ironically, it was Eraline that didn't understand her son; didn't understand his thoughts and circumstances, and why he felt such an overpowering need to hide from the world. Her bitter grief had blinded her to her son's.

Now it was too late. At the ultimate level, she loved him beyond description, and she would've--no, she did die for him. But she had missed out on so much. As had Tom, dying when Tai was so young. Their little boy had a tremendous mind, even if he didn't know it himself.

Robert sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve, picking up a butter knife.

It wasn't over yet. Mike was cracking Tai's shell, finding and mending the younger kit's sorest wounds and fears with such tenderness and maturity Robert swelled up with pride just thinking about it. He had his own part to play too, and a promise to keep.

Protocol, policy and everything else?

All of that could go to hell. He was going to keep that promise.

When the cartoon had finished, Mike sat up and stretched. "That was pretty cool," he admitted. "Didn't get a lot of it, though." When he received no reply, he turned around. "Tai?" The kit was staring listlessly at the screen, his eyes wet. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Tai rubbed at his face and sat too. "Just thinking."

Mike inched closer. "C'mon, what is it?"

The tawny kit swallowed and shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it. Please?"

Mike had never heard those words from Tai before. He didn't ask again.

As the next cartoon came on, however, Tai sniffed. "Mike?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever thought about... what happens after?"

Mike frowned. "After what?"

"Um, remember how I said that I keep thinking about mom?" Tai shivered. "It keeps coming back into my head, no matter what."

"Try to think about other stuff, Tai," Mike told him gravely. "Every time it comes into your head, kick it right back out."

"I keep worrying... when they put her in the ground..." Tai suddenly looked nauseous and horrified. "Don't things eat you? Worms and stuff? And flies lay their babies... I heard somewhere that dead bodies can sometimes burst and-"

Mike started and glared at Tai firmly. "Stop it!" But he could tell it was too late.

Tai burst into tears. "My mom's gonna be eaten by bugs!" he almost screamed.

"Oh, crap..." Mike groaned, dashing over. Why now? It had been nearly two weeks! "Look at me, Tai! Please?"

The kit curled up and closed his eyes firmly, covering his face with his paws. "No!"

Robert came in, looking alarmed as he held a plate with six slices of toast. He laid it on the coffee table quickly and came to the couch, kneeling down. "What's going on?" he asked.

Mike looked at his father helplessly. "H-he just started crying and talking about his mom."

Robert swore quietly. This wasn't unexpected. A few weeks after Haley had passed away, Mike had broken down late one night in almost exactly the same way, his distress keeping both he and his father up until dawn the next day.

Not even thinking about it, Robert pushed his own son aside and positioned himself in front of the kit. For some reason, he knew he had to stop it this time.

Tai was hiccupping as he cried. "I-I saw her!" he blurted at nobody, seemingly just bawling random thoughts as they came to him. "On the table! I could see the holes!"

The grown up firmly grabbed Tai's wrists and tried to pry them away from the pup's face. "Tai, please open your eyes!" he said sharply. "Come on. Let me talk to you. It's okay, I promise."

After resisting for several moments, the kit opened his leafy eyes, but little reason was in them.

"Tai, listen to me. Your mom isn't going to have any of that stuff happen to her. That's not what's going to happen, alright?" Robert leaned in closer. "Be brave, Tai. Nobody is going to let any of that stuff happen to your mom. Forget about it."

The kit stared at him, still crying. It was hard to tell if he was actually seeing anything at all.

"Do you believe me?" Robert prompted, reaching out and stroking Tai's head briefly. "I promise I won't let it happen. Believe me?"

Tai nodded very slowly, whimpering.

The adult pulled him into a tight hug. "Don't think about these things. I'll take care of it. Everything. I promise."

Robert sat down on the couch, easily holding Tai close to him. He held the kit close, and the kit clung to him in return.

With unutterably perfect timing, the phone in the kitchen started to ring, its absurdly cheerful twinkling grating. Robert barely resisted the urge to curse.

Mike fidgeted uncomfortably. "Um... W-want me to get it?" he asked in a small voice.

"No, I'll get it," growled Robert. It'd be for him anyway. "Hold him, Mike." He carefully extricated himself from the kit's four-limbed grasp and let his son take him. The ten-year-old immediately pulled the smaller kit to him.

As Robert walked briskly to the phone, he muttered to himself. "God, I hate phones," he grumbled irrationally.

While his father went to silence the aggravating device, back in the den Mike was rocking Tai slightly. "It's okay," he found himself murmuring over and over, hoping it was actually getting through. Some part of him knew he was talking to himself too.

He too had hoped Tai was over this phase, that they'd managed to head it off somehow, but he clearly wasn't. Mike felt shaken. He knew this could happen! He knew, and he wanted to stop it but when it came he was useless - his own father had simply pushed him out of the way without a word. All he had been able to was watch as his best friend succumbed to hysteria.

Squeezing the smaller boy to him, he buried his muzzle in the tawny head-fur, biting his lip to force back his own sob.

Some minutes later, Robert returned, barely restrained fury evident on his features, but he just knelt down by the couch again. "Are you two alright?" he asked quietly.

Tai didn't reply, but Mike sniffled. "Sorry dad," he whispered.

"What? Why?"

"I didn't know what to do," Mike confessed. "I should've - i-it happened to me. I got scared. I thought he was okay. I-I'm sorry."

"I'm not mad at you, Mike." Robert brushed his son's flattened velvety ear. "You're doing great."

"Really? I thought you were when you pushed me out of the way."

The grownup blinked. "I'm sorry Mike, I shouldn't have pushed you. I just wanted to help." Suddenly, he felt a pang of guilt. That single, unthinking action could've been a huge mistake. "Is he okay now?"

Mike drew back a little and looked down at the little tawny face. "Are you alright now, Tai?" he enquired quietly, nuzzling at the younger kit's pink nose. Tai nodded feebly. "Cool. Don't think about that stuff again, okay? If my dad says it's not gonna happen, it ain't. Trust me."

The brown-furred fox boy felt a large paw on his shoulder, and he turned back to his dad curiously.

Robert smiled wryly at his son; the pup had an interesting mix of expressions on his face. He was anxious, distraught, and clearly a little angry at himself - though there was that look of fierce protectiveness again. That same determined face he had made one day not long ago, a few nights after Tai had gone home. When Mike took on a responsibility, foolishly or not, he really took it to heart.

"Boys, I've got to go to the office today. I can't get out of it. I really don't want to leave you alone, but I have no choice. I've only got a few hours."

Mike nodded. "Uh, what about Jake?"

"I'm going to try to get him to look after you today, but there's no guarantee." Robert groaned and sat down. "Tai, can you hear me?"

"Yeah," Tai replied weakly. The storm had passed quickly, yet the pup seemed rattled. As if even he couldn't believe he'd been so overwhelmed just moments before.

"Are you hungry?"

"Yeah."

"Munch on some toast for now." Robert looked right at his son. His next few words were extremely quiet. "Mike, look after him. He needs company right now more than anything. You do know what to do if it happens again. You can handle it."

The brown-furred pup frowned at his father for a moment, and then finally he grinned. "No problem, dad. Leave it to me."

In the darkness of his room, Jake was enjoying a soda on his bed while watching a movie on his very own puny television when his cell phone buzzed into life over on his computer desk. It was surrounded by the six other video disks he'd rented to counter the night's inevitable tedium.

Groaning, he got up and padded over to it, picking up the vigorously vibrating object and pressing the answer key. "Hello?" he asked, pawing some paper from his desk and leaning on the resultant clearing.

"Jake?" he heard over the phone. "It's Robert."

"Oh," said Jake, a little surprised. "Hi Rob. What's up?"

"It's a long story, but something really bad happened and I need you to look after the boys again."

Something bad? "Um, ok. When?"

"Tonight, if you're available. I'll pay double what I usually do. I can't leave the boys alone, and I don't trust any other babysitter."

Money was good and all, but... "Rob, what's happened?" enquired Jake, feeling a little suspicious.

"I'll tell you in person. Can't really discuss it over the phone. Even if you show up and don't want to take it I'll pay you just for coming. It's sort of... a little more than what you're used to."

"Alright. I'll be there pretty soon. A few hours I guess."

"Do you have any friends you'd like to bring?"

"Uhh, no, they're all busy. I'm the only one who finished my assignments."

"... OK, see you soon! Bye."

Jake put down the phone, frowning. "What the hell?" He walked to the window and threw open the windows, blinding himself with mid-afternoon light. Looks like his quiet night in wasn't going to be happening. A tight, ominous feeling seized his stomach.

Nobody had ever asked him to bring friends to a babysitting job before, and he got the strong impression Robert was concerned. Or maybe afraid of something. Even stranger, offering to pay him if he didn't take the job? That didn't even make sense. Something was very wrong here. Something had happened.

But what could have possibly happened to warrant this?!

Almost nine years ago...

Eraline checked her watch and sighed. It wasn't a pleasant night to be standing in the middle of a New York alley, under the spurious protection of the fire-escapes above. The cold weather was just trying to settle in, and the first attempts at actual snow were stifled by still warm air, and the result was a horrendous down-pouring of dirty sleet, made oily and disgusting by pollution.

Her fur-trimmed jacket was soaked through, and her shoes felt... squidgy. God she hated that!

"Where are you?" she muttered grumpily. This wasn't how a person who had recently undergone labor should be spending her nights. She should be recovering, clad in warm clothes and her beloved's warm grasp as they cradled and cooed to their warm son. Warmly.

Not waiting for a contact at three in the morning. A decidedly not-warm scenario.

There was a shuffling towards the other end of the alley--the end that was steeped in shadow, hidden from the unimpressive efforts of the street-lights that tried to break through the airborne sludge. Eraline's senses were very sharp at the moment; even above and beyond what your average lone female's should be in a dark, secluded lane in the middle of the night.

She squinted as a furtive form slipped from the darkness and approached her. From the way it carried itself, it was female too. So she'd finally arrived; Eraline breathed a sigh of relief as the figure came nearer.

"E-Eraline?" she hissed, barely audible over the weather.

Eraline gestured her closer, smiling a little. "Glad you could join me," she said with just a touch of asperity. "Lovely weather, isn't it?"

"I rather like it. Made it much easier to get out of the building." Stepping underneath the same fire-escape landing that Eraline was using for cover, the wolf pushed back her black hood.

She was an attractive lupine, Eraline was forced to concede. Her gray coat was shot through with white, giving her an interesting, almost stormy appearance, and her amber eyes went well with that, bizarrely. She was however very gaunt and looked rather unkempt. All things considered, she had every right to be.

"Did you have any problems?" Eraline asked, eyes flickering over the nearby access points to their little alley and the hiding spots therein.

The lady-wolf shook her head, trying to smile too. Those yellow eyes of hers were haunted and she appeared rather tired. "Just my son. I had to put him to bed--quite firmly. He saw me preparing to leave, but I don't think he'll tell anyone. I'm sorry I was late."

"I see. Don't be sorry, Kayla. Though I won't deny that I wish we could've picked a slightly drier meeting place."

"I think we'd have trouble finding one tonight."

"True."

Kayla withdrew from her jacket a small thumb-drive and, with a quick look around, pressed it into Eraline's waiting paw. "That's it all. All you'll need."

The vixen blinked and looked down at it. "That was fast. Very well, I'll make arrangements to get you and your son out of here before we go any further."

Kayla's eyes closed briefly. "Thank you," she said, her voice strained.

That wasn't right. Something about her demeanor was just not right, Eraline reasoned. And this meeting had been called too soon; there was no way Kayla could've done her part of the bargain so quickly. She narrowed her icy blue eyes, and they just stared at each other in uneasy silence.

"I'm sorry, Eraline," whimpered the wolf at last.

Eraline felt like she'd suddenly swallowed an anvil. "He found out..." she whispered. "Didn't he?"

The golden eyes shifted slightly, silently conveying deepest regret, fear and despair; with only that as the warning, Kayla's right paw swung up and around, directly at the vixen's face. In that paw, a small, razor-sharp blade gleamed.

There was no way Kayla could've predicted the exact consequences of this action. Neither could Eraline, both the immediate and the effects that'd come to fruition years later.

It wasn't something the vixen consciously thought about. The exactness, violence and complexity of the movements were committed to instinct.

Raising one arm- the left to her attacker's right- to first block, then deflect the knife-wielding limb to the side of their bodies as she stepped in, Eraline brought her own right arm underneath Kayla's outstretched elbow, and latched it onto her own opposing wrist, completing a figure-four-like position with their arms. Suddenly she took a deep step backwards, and forced the intricate pretzel their arms had become downwards towards her own hips. It was all completed in less than a second.

The result of that surprisingly technical response was profound but simple. There was a horrific ripping sound as Kayla's shoulder joint was destroyed, and her entire body was hurled sideways over the axis of that ruined shoulder. She collapsed with astonishing force onto the harsh gravel, and stared up in shock at the lethal vixen.

Who returned that stare with horror.

A mistake, an application of too much force. Or perhaps just absurd, cosmically atrocious luck.

Kayla laid on the ground, her own tiny blade buried in the side of her neck. In the fall, she had dropped the slender little knife, then fallen onto it hard, as only the hilt protruded from her fur. Already blood was pouring from the grievous wound, thin droplets staining the wet ground.

"Oh, my God..." Eraline gasped, kneeling to inspect the injury. "I'm sorry, Kayla."

The wolf, however, smiled and weakly pushed Eraline away. "G-go. Tha-thanks... you tried. You need to go."

"I failed you. Shit!" Eraline stumbled backwards, a trembling paw covering her muzzle. "Oh shit, what've I done!? Why did you-!?"

But Kayla still smiled. "Th-thank you, Eraline..."

A moment of unnatural quiet, of darkness and chill seemed to engulf the alley, then...

"Mom?!" a weak, incredulous voice blurted. "No. No!"

Eraline looked back at the darkened end of the alley, as splashes indicated someone was running towards her. Someone small.

Eventually, that someone too came into the weak light. It was a small boy. A wolf-boy, of no more than ten or eleven. He wore baggy cargo pants and a white shirt, and he was soaked right through. He obviously had been exposed to the freezing sleet in barely more than his fur, and he trembled violently.

"Mom?" he whispered, slowly approaching. After a few seconds, he turned to glare at Eraline, his expression both disbelieving and yet so infuriated. "WHY?!" he screamed, voice quavering. "What did she ever do to you?!" He dropped to his knees over his mother, gasping when he spotted the knife's hilt jutting out from her neck. "N-no... Oh shit!" Gingerly, he touched it. As if he couldn't believe it was there.

With a choked cry, the boy fell upon the bleeding corpse. Clutching it tightly, head pressed firmly against her chest as he wept.

There was nothing she could do or say. Eraline merely stared at the kit.

This was him. This was Kayla's son. The one she'd literally just died for. Suddenly, Eraline felt faint: Kayla came to their meeting tonight knowing full well she wouldn't make it back home--she knew that attacking Eraline would end her life one way or another. That she'd never see her boy again; but at least he'd be protected. It was starting to make sense now. Horrible, dismaying sense.

A chilling notion came to her next. It was dark, but the wolf-boy had probably gotten a good look at her already. There was no way of knowing how much Kayla had been forced to divulge and that made the personal risk even greater; as foul as the very idea was, Eraline knew at that point that she really should kill this pup. Murder him and leave him in a dark, sodden alley with his mother. At least they'd be together.

But she could not. Perhaps it was because she herself was a mother now, but she couldn't do that. There was no way she could dishonor what this mother gave her life for. It went so far beyond merely wrong.

She continued to watch him in silence.

"Why, mom?" he was asking, touching his nose to hers, tears leaking from behind his tightly closed eyes. "Why does this always happen to us? Why does it-?! No..."

Minutes passed, and wolf-boy could do nothing more than cry and squeeze his mother's lifeless face to his, ignoring the blood that seeped into his fur and pooled around his knees on the wet bitumen. He was a hard-bitten young pup. Blood didn't bother him.

Finally, he knew not how much later, he looked up, teeth clenched with hate and frustration born of a hundred injustices, ready to hurl obscenity and abuse at the vixen that'd killed the one person he cared for.

Only there was nothing there. She had melted into the night like a shadow.

Robert cracked open one eye and listened. Did he really just hear a knock on the door?

A short few seconds later, his sleepy brain decided he'd imagined it, and going back to sleep would be a good plan. After all, chasing after a toddler all day as he had today was just a little exhausting. At least he'd had some help from his best mate, but with Haley out of town, that really had just made it a normal exhausting day instead of an impossible nightmare. So he closed that eye.

But it came again, louder and sharper now.

With a sigh, he hauled himself from his queen bed, so empty and meaningless without his wife to occupy at least half of it for him, and stumbled to the corridor.

"Who is it?" he mumbled sleepily.

"It's me," came a familiar brisk voice.

Hurriedly, the pajama-clad Robert opened the door. He frowned at the vixen beyond it, who looked wet and miserable to say the least. "What's the matter, Eraline?" he asked.

"Is-is Tom here?" she asked wanly, leaning on the door-frame.

"No, he went home around midnight--with little Tai of course."

"Oh."

"I'd ask if you want to come in, but I'd imagine you'd rather get home to your own bed?"

Eraline just looked at him, and her eyes began to water. "Robert..."

He blinked a few times, trying to wake himself up properly. "Eraline? What's wrong?!"

"I... I just..." And with a broken wail, she fell forwards onto his chest, clutching his soft cotton pajamas in her paws. "Shiiiiit!"

Startled, Robert held her loosely, cradling her carefully in his arms. "What happened?!"

Still sobbing, Eraline merely shook her head. That was all Robert needed to know that she wouldn't tell him. Hell, she'd probably take it to her grave.

"Eraline..." he sighed, squeezing her slightly. "Let's get you inside."

"Thanks, Rob..."

Robert smiled hollowly. "You'll need some rest for tomorrow. Believe me, you're going to have a lot of fun now you're a new mother. It's just harder from here on."

She laughed at that for some reason, sniffling simultaneously. "I know." She sniffed and looked up at him, looking shocking vulnerable for the first time he'd ever really seen. "I know. But it's worth it, right?"

"Yeah. I think so. I've never done it before either."

Eraline chortled, wiping her nose dry. "I'd hope you'd never been a mother before, Robert."

"Past life."

6 years later.

Never before had Robert appreciated how hard it is to truly stand in one position, and not move an inch, for anything longer than a moment. Muscles he didn't even know he had were trembling, and it must've been going on five minutes now that he had been keeping this posture, on the windy roof of an apartment building in the mid-day sun. Maybe ten, he wasn't sure. Behind him stood a large air-conditioning unit, a gargantuan aluminum cube, affixed with several ventilation pumps, steadily humming away as Robert tried to ignore its grating white noise.

His eyes were locked onto the ferret's, down the sights of a handgun.

He was becoming even more exhausted, because he could not, at any second, let the image before him lose meaning. He had to be taking in and analyzing everything, even if nothing seemed to be happening...

At long last, Nathan made a move. He snickered derisively, and cracked his neck.

Just that movement alone caused Robert's adrenaline levels to blast out of control, and his muscles tensed painfully. He exhaled slowly, trying to calm himself; this wasn't his strong point at all. He wasn't good at relaxing when he had to keep a gun trained on someone twelve feet away. Sweat oozed from his head-fur and snaked its way through the fur on his face until he had to close an eye to stop the salty liquid from stinging it.

"Are you really planning on just standing there until someone else comes to help you out?" sighed Nathan, cockily wiping sweat from his brow.

"Move again and I'll shoot," Robert replied tersely.

Again the derisive snort. "You'll miss, Robert. Your hands are shaking like the pope in a whorehouse. Parkinson's and all."

Robert allowed himself a smile. It was one of the few muscle groups he trusted himself to employ right now. "Funny."

"Why haven't you shot me yet?" asked Nathan, his tone curious. "We could both get this done with much faster if you'd stop the cat-and-mouse game."

"You and I both know that I can't do that."

The ferret grinned. "Aw, can't shoot your old buddy?"

"No, I need to know what you gave them."

"So no residual feelings of loyalty? Of friendship? I'm hurt!"

Robert snarled slightly, taking an awkward step forward. "After what you did to my son, you think you can call me a friend?"

That was foolish, Robert realized. Moving at all could provide this ferret an opportunity to either attack or escape, and he could chance neither. Particularly in light of the fact he probably wouldn't survive either occurrence at this point. He had to keep the barrel of the gun on him, and squeeze the moment he moved... he had to. He also had to keep this distance--not easy considering he really wanted to rush the ferret and beat him to death.

"Fair enough, Rob. I'm afraid I couldn't accept your friendship under these circumstances anyway. It'd just be... grotesque." With an expression of mocking calm, Nathan looked around, frowning as the sun bored into his eyes. "Fuck it's hot today. How about we chat a little until someone either shows up or your arms fall off?"

"We have little to converse about."

"Oh stop acting all pissed off. We both know that I might let something slip, and that's exactly what you're waiting for. Grow up."

"Alright. Why the hell did you do it? What did they offer you, exactly?"

Nate's expression became a little harrowed. "It's not a matter of what I was offered."

"What're you saying?"

"There are plenty of ways to coerce someone into doing what you want, and I don't think I'll be telling you what they 'offered' me, so to speak." Nate sighed.

"Hrm. Very clever, by the way," complimented Robert, taking a deep breath. "I almost didn't check to see if my records were accessed. You raped a little boy just to conceal what you were really after. I see now, you have no conscience at all."

"Not true. I was very considerate of little Mikey, as much as I could be. I did what I had to do; we've all been made to do horrible things out of necessity. If he's anything like you or Haley, it'll just make him stronger." Nathan frowned. "How the shit did you know it was me? I know I never left anything for you."

Robert smirked. "Mike saw your face. His description was accurate."

"Really? Wily little guy. I should've killed him; I warned him not to try and see me. Was sure he hadn't managed to."

"Wouldn't have mattered. You should've left town anyway. Your bathing habits would've been all I needed to go on."

"Meaning?"

"You stink, Nate. Like you wouldn't believe. I know cesspools that gag when you walk past. All he'd have to do is describe your ungodly stench."

The ferret laughed, and looked up as a helicopter passed by, its thrumming rotors hammering rhythmically on Robert's nerves. "I used to have to go for months without bathing back in South Africa. Habits formed."

They fell silent for another minute at least, while Robert prayed he wouldn't have to endure another helicopter flying over. Sweat threaded its way through his fur, and he felt uncomfortable--more so, that is.

"So how did you hurt your knee?"

"Some ass tripped me on the outfield. Someone else basically ended up stomping on it sideways."

"Ouch." Nate winced. "I told you that playing that idiotic sport would get you crippled."

"I'm not crippled yet."

"Consider this an omen of things to come."

Robert had to laugh. But it just made him feel even tenser. By now he was swaying and four or five times in the last minute he had to correct his aim as his arms were dropping. What a day for a heat-wave.

"Tell me, whatever happened to that other vixen you used to hang around with. The one you went all moony-eyed over until that other fox walked into the picture."

"Not at liberty to say, not that I really know. She's well, however." Robert's eyes narrowed. "Nate, what the hell are you doing?! The information you took could get dozens killed! Don't you have any regard for your colleagues? You don't just sell this information to the highest bidder or give to some asshole drug-lord so he can do that for you!"

"Trust me, I know. There was only one record I was after. I haven't given them anything more than that, and I destroyed the backup."

"That's something at least."

"Of course, if the price had been considerably higher I might've considered giving them the whole thing, but it wasn't so I didn't."

".... Nate... someone might still die because of what you did. Who did what to justify this all?"

"Guess what? Not at liberty to say. Anyway, let's discuss this lady-fox. Eraline, wasn't it?" Nate leered somewhat vulgarly. "That was one hot bitch. Did you ever manage to touch-down?"

"No."

"I see. So that other guy got in before you huh? It's expected where you're concerned. You need to be a bit more assertive."

"It's moot now, I'm married."

Nate nodded, his expression lamenting. "Yes. Big mistake."

Robert chortled, shaking his head in amusement. "Really? You've never felt anything like it, Nathan, so I don't think you'll understand."

"Then enlighten me?"

"Like you're even listening. You're just trying to talk me into a stupor so you can explode like you've been itching to do for the last twelve minutes. But you're not going to break me, Nate. Not like this."

"Yes," conceded the ferret, with a tired sigh. "You're fairly indomitable when you're the one with the gun." His eyes flickered to the side, off the rooftop to the nearest adjacent building. "Huh. Looks like the wait is almost over."

Robert almost caved, he almost looked over at the neighboring structure and gave the ferret his chance. But though his entire body twitched, and his eyes almost looked away, he held firm.

Nathan burst out laughing. It was a happy, bright laugh straight from the gut. "Oh shit," he said. "You're definitely the best, Robert. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, even though you threw it all away to become a father and baby-sitter."

"There are more fulfilling pursuits than killing others and pointless espionage, Nate. Fatherhood is just one of them. I didn't throw anything away."

"Yeah, you know what? You're right. I see what you mean. Children are amazing. Mike is like a mini-you--tough little guy too, and smart. It's mind-blowing. I can understand you..." He paused, and his expression grew sly. "But right now you should choose to duck behind that air-conditioning pump if you want to see your son again."

Robert literally felt it. He felt that someone was about to kill him. He'd always thought that it was a myth, but the fur on the back of his neck seemed to electrify, and his entire body went deathly cold.

He turned and leaped for the dubious safety of the blocky air-conditioning unit on the raised concrete platform behind him. As he hit the ground and rolled to his feet, he even heard the distant crack, and almost simultaneously a piece of the concrete floor had a hole blasted in it. A sniper. It was a fucking sniper! On the adjacent rooftop!

When he turned back around, Nate was right on top of him, and he moved with the preternatural agility he had always possessed. He smashed the firearm from Robert's grip with a hard, accurate elbow, numbing the fox's entire arm, and brought a devastating knee into the fox's chest which hurled him into the aluminum air-conditioner. It dented considerably.

"Bhgaah!" wheezed Robert. It felt for a moment like his chest was crushed, and his injured knee buckled beneath his weight.

Under normal circumstance, not so dazed and with a functional leg, he might've ducked or blocked the high-kick, but as it was he failed to do anything but sort of lean to the side, and Nathan's boot smashed right into his temple.

When he came to, blood caked on the side of his head and oozing from his muzzle, it was evening, and he was alone on the high rooftop.

Rolling himself to his backside, with a throbbing headache, he tried to clear his vision.

"Damn!" he snarled to himself. Infuriated, he almost struck himself, but with that head injury it would've been an atrocious idea. He was already concussed; if he was destined to suffer brain-damage, then he wasn't going to be the one to bring it on himself. He set his paws beneath him and tried to stand, but he immediately fell onto his back. The world was swirling, and he found focusing impossible.

Cursing again, he withdrew his cell phone and called for help.

Then he sighed, gathering his wits and trying to get some perspective. His ego was almost as badly injured as his head was, but he knew he was being foolish. The ferret looked unimpressive, but he was a well trained field officer. The moment he turned his back on Nathan, any other outcome would've been a miracle.

"Yeah," he mumbled, slurring his words only a little as he laid his head gingerly on the still warm concrete. He adjusted his position as best he could, getting comfortable as he waited. "He can kick my ass. It proves nothing." Suddenly, perhaps it was the concussion, all he wanted was a frothy, milky latte and to snuggle up to his son, to read to him and nuzzle his little neck... "Well. I guess I'm really not cut out for this stuff after all."

He sighed and looked up, just watching the roiling clouds tumble about the ever-shifting sky. It made him a little dizzy. "I guess you were right, Haley," he chortled, closing his eyes again. "God do I miss you."

Presently.

The hands of his "Who Gives A Damn?" clock moved intolerably slowly as Mike watched it with intense apathy.

There were dozens of things he could've spent the last hour doing, and he was usually great at occupying himself, but he felt strangely out of it. Tai's break-down earlier confirmed a few things for him that he wished he hadn't even thought about, yet they continued to dominate his wandering young mind.

He had, that night they'd driven so hurriedly to the hospital, thought that he knew what Tai was experiencing. Quickly he came to realize that he had no idea what levels of fear and pain the little kit was suffering.

Losing a parent was painful and destructive, but losing both, leaving you lost and scared in a new and strange place, as Tai had was very different. Now Tai was an orphan. With his future uncertain and the promise of eternal misery hanging over him, the already miserable Tai had probably been on the verge of losing his mind over the last few weeks.

So Mike had done all he could for Tai, to minimize the shy country-kit's discomfort in the largest, greasiest, most crowded city in the United States. It had seemed to be working, but Mike had missed something else. Something that only became really clear to him when he found himself churning Tai's earlier words around in his head.

When his mother had died, Mike received the news from his choked up father, and together they had grieved. Tai on the other hand... had seen it. From what Mike understood, Tai had seen somebody blow holes in his mother with a gun, and try to kill him too; if that wasn't bad enough, Tai had actually witnessed his mother's passing and seen her bloody body itself 'on the table' as he'd said.

Was there any way to fix this, or at least help? Could Mike do anything? Could he even take this himself?!

It scared him. Now more than ever, he knew there was always the chance that his father could go to work one day, and never come back. The mere thought of it was so horrible. It had always scared him. Kept him awake at night, ever since his mother had died - he knew it could one day happen to his father too.

Mike had known Tai was waking from nightmares, sleeping in the same bed as him, but this revelation put that fact in a whole new light. They were not just bad dreams. Tai's sleep was invaded by visions of his deceased mother, blood and masked assailants trying to murder him silently. How many times had he relived it? How many times in his mind had he tried to shake his mom awake again and again, but she never moved?

It made Mike shake to even think about it. But he kept thinking about it anyway.

What the hell was with that?!

There was a knock on his door and Tai poked his head in. "Mike, can I come in?" he asked diffidently.

"Of course," responded Mike absently. "Where were you?"

"Talking to your dad," Tai replied, looking a little bashful. "He... um, he wanted to talk to me about what was gonna happen to my mom."

Mike eyed him impassively for a second. "Oh." He still remembered Tai fleeing when that was brought up the last time.

"He... he was telling me about the funeral. I d-don't know if I want to go."

"Why not?"

Tai squirmed. "I think I'd... Like this morning. Again. I don't want to see..."

Mike stood and walked over to the poor kit. "They can close the coffin. Did for me. You won't need to see anything."

"That's what your dad said, but I don't know if I can do it."

"Okay. Don't you want to say goodbye?"

Tai flinched away and he looked a little upset. "I do! I do! But..."

"Okay." Mike reached out and took Tai's paw. "It's alright. It's not a big deal, yeah?"

The kit shot him a warm smile. "Thank you." He bit his lip briefly. "Um. Y-your dad didn't say anything about when I'd be going to an orphanage."

"You didn't ask him?" The shy silence answered that.

"N-no." Tai came a little closer, and he rather meekly held out his arms, as if he was asking to be picked up. "I can't ask..."

With a laugh, Mike pulled him into a hug. "Yeah. 'Hey, can you please adopt me?' I guess it'd sound weird."

Tai gave a contented sigh. "Do you want to sit down again?"

Mike nodded and the two sat cross-legged on his unmade single bed together, messing the covers a little in the process.

"Oh, um, M-Mike?" Tai asked softly. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure can."

The leafy eyes were uncertain. "Uh, okay. Umm... your dad said that you think I should see a doctor. A sort of brain-doctor."

"Huh? You mean a therapist?"

"I think that's what he said. He said that you'd only say that if you were really worried 'cause you don't like them. Why?"

Mike blinked a few times. "What, why am I worried?" That was a bit of a silly question, he thought.

"Um, no. Why don't you like them? They're supposed to help, right? They're doctors. I wanted to know why you don't like them. If you don't like them, then... I-I guess you'd have a reason. I just wondered."

The brown furred boy leaned backwards onto the wall, propping himself up on its surface. "It's because of the time I got mugged. I didn't like the way the therapists all thought I was dumb. They didn't help."

Seeming to have expected that, Tai asked tentatively, "I-I... um, what r-really happened when you were mugged?"

Mike looked at the cringing kit in surprise. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "You really want to know? How come?"

Tai looked highly embarrassed now. "Umm... I don't get it."

Baffled, Mike looked at Tai steadily. "Y-you don't get it?" he repeated incredulously. What was there to get?

It was almost to be expected that Tai instantly mistook the incredulity for scorn, and he averted his eyes. "I-I mean, you don't seem to worry about it, but Jake and your dad think it was a big thing. Especially Jake."

"Oh, um, it's complicated."

"Okay." Sensing his older friend's reluctance, Tai dropped the matter. Just the night before they're grilled one another about touchy subjects and that was uncomfortable enough for him. Ever since they'd met, more than half of their conversation had been about horrible things; that was good, in a way, because Tai needed to talk to someone about those things, he knew that now. But he wasn't so curious that he wanted to make tonight another miserable one.

However, Mike fidgeted and went quiet. He stared at his paws.

"It happened when dad had to go out one day." The barky-furred boy reached down and absently removed some lint from between his toes. His voice was a dead whisper.

"Y-you don't need to tell me," Tai blurted hastily.

"I want to."

Mystified, Tai stared dumbly at his friend.

Mike swallowed awkwardly, continuing to stare at his paws. "D-dad was out at work. I heard this noise, like the front door closing, and I went out to check. I thought dad was home early. I didn't see anyone, but when I went to go back to my room, he... he grabbed me around the neck, and, like, held my muzzle shut." The barky-furred boy mimed it quickly.

Tai felt a chill. That tactic sounded horribly familiar.

"I c-couldn't scream or anything... he was choking me and it hurt my muzzle. Th-then he put a big knife up to my neck, and told me that if I made a noise he'd c-cut my throat, then wait and kill dad when he got home. He pushed me to the ground and started to tie my wrists together with those plastic tie-things. Zip-ties I think." Mike swallowed. "He took the knife and cut off my shirt; wrapped it around my head. Said that i-if I saw his face, he'd kill us. I thought he was going to do it anyway, but just in case I did what I was told."

Mike's features were impassive, yet Tai thought he could detect a little quaver in Mike's tone. Almost undetectable.

He didn't blame him. Tai knew what it was like... someone had broken into Mike's home and hurt him. The idea of being safe at home had evaporated like the unreality it was. It was scary. Nowhere was safe now, not even his warm bed in his own room. Now, every time he had to sleep, every time he was left alone, somebody could break in. Maybe even to hurt him again. The only reason Tai managed to sleep at night was that he could cling to his beloved friend.

This was what Mike had been living with since that day.

However, then the older kit spaced out. For a moment, he closed his eyes. An almost imperceptible tremble beset his muscles.

"M-Mike?"

"Sorry. Um, well, he dragged me into the bathroom. I remember... he pushed me onto my back, and pulled my shorts off. I was too scared to move..." The ten-year-old inhaled deeply. He fidgeted, running a paw through his medium length head-fur and looking anywhere but at Tai. "Started--started to touch me. Rubbed, uh, down there, at my dick. I got stiff, and he kept going. After awhile, he sucked on it. I couldn't believe the feeling... I was scared when I orgasmed. D-didn't know what it was."

"Mike, you don't need to-"

"No." The kit shook his head. "I wanna tell you."

The tawny kit was baffled now. Why did Mike want to tell him this tale? It was awful. "A-are you okay!?"

"A little tingly," admitted Mike, still shaking. "It's okay. Um, anyway. After a while of that, he made me suck on his. It wasn't stiff at first, so he made me, um, get it like that. It was pretty gross; he stunk so badly. Then he turned me over and shoved it into my butt. It hurt like hell at first."

Tai blinked in confusion. After a second, he got it. "He did what?" he gagged. "Why did he-?"

Mike took a shaky breath, falling silent for nearly an entire minute. Tai stared at him, horrified and confused, while the barky kit regrouped. "H-he only did it for a few minutes. I think he was only in our apartment for like half an hour. It still hurt a lot, but he did it slowly. When he was done, he told me I'd been g-good and that he was sorry. He wasn't too bad to me... because I did as he said, I guess. When I got sore knees, he even put a towel under them for me. Uh, wh-where was I?"

"When he was done...?" Tai prompted in a whisper. He felt dizzy himself, and his fingertips were tingling. He had to imagine Mike felt a thousand times worse.

"Oh yeah, th-thanks. He carried me into the shower and turned the cold water tap on. Washed me all over, and when he was done with that he tied my ankles to my wrists and just left me there, with the water still running... my shirt was still around my head. I couldn't move or nothin'. I thought I was gonna drown. Dad was so upset when he came in and saw me like that. I just wanted the water turned off and to sit near the heater."

"Mike!" the tawny kit exclaimed, aghast. "That must've been so scary."

Mike shook his head. "It was, but..." The brown-furred kit smiled wanly. "Don't worry about it. I'm still alive, and so is my dad. I was okay. I was glad at first that everyone cared and fussed over me, but I got sick of it. It was as if they thought I'd been broken." He paused and scrunched his eyes shut tight. He hesitated, before it seemed he came to a decision. "I guess... I-I liked it, Tai. I thought about it all the time."

There was a moment of stunned silence, then Tai squeaked, "Wh-what? How did you like it?!"

Mike drew his knees up to his chest and hid his face between them, cuddling himself tightly. "Oh, shit!" he whined, his voice tiny. "I knew you'd think I was crazy! That's why I didn't tell you! I know I wasn't supposed to! I know it's wrong, but I couldn't- I..."

Tai got to his knees, crawling towards his older friend. "Wait! No, it's okay! It's okay!" He gently touched Mike's leg. "I like things I'm not meant to, right? You told me that was okay. What's the difference?"

Mike stared down at the mattress. The confusion that'd been welling up inside him for years suddenly boiled over, and he found himself absolutely needing to tell Tai everything. The oddly colored fox kit was the only one he could trust with the truth. He was the one who deserved to know the most. A part of him was screaming at him to shut his mouth, to say no more, but he knew it was too late now. "I don't know. I shouldn't. I didn't want anyone to find out. It was my secret."

There was an awkward pause while Mike collected himself. A strange idea came to Tai. "Mike, uh, i-is this why you wanted to do things to me? Like, tie me up and stuff?"

The hazel eyes widened and the brown-furred pup stared at friend. "Wha-?"

"I just thought... it's the same sort of thing, right? Except you ask me first."

Mike eyed him, stricken. "Oh, shit!! Yes, since I first saw you. The first... I wanted to. Yes. I'm sorry!!"

The tawny pup just blinked. "Mike, I-"

"I'm sorry! It wasn't all about that, I swear! You're my friend, honest! I wanted to be on the other side of it. I wanted to have a friend to do this stuff with."

"Mike... I don't--"

"I didn't want to hurt you or scare you like him! I never want to hurt you! I was really happy when you liked what I did, I just wanted you to- to feel it without being scared or hurt or worried or nothing!"

"Mike!"

"I'm so sorry! Don't hate me. Don't go. Shit, don't..."

"Stop it!" Tai finally snapped, exasperated. For some reason, seeing Mike like this both irritated and frightened him. "I know you're my friend. I'm stupid, but I can tell that."

"You're not stupid!" Mike exclaimed.

"See?" The tawny kit hugged the long, bark-furred legs cheerily in a slightly puerile attempt to lighten the mood. "I just wanted to know what happened. What got your dad, and Jake, all upset."

"I lied." Mike fretted, shuffling away a few inches. "You asked me about this before. I did want to be your friend because of this. You noticed it already. That whole first day I was trying just to touch you and stuff. I was just a big creepy jerk... no, a total asshole!"

"And now?"

"What?"

Tai smiled slightly. "Do you still only want to be my friend because of it?"

"No way! I... I wanted a friend too." Mike hung his head. "I didn't think I'd like you this much though."

Quietly, Tai swallowed. "I didn't think you'd like me. It's okay though, because we do like each other, right?" He moved closer to his bigger companion again. "I don't care why you wanted to be my friend. You even told me before you wouldn't do those things with me if you couldn't prove you were my friend too, and you did!"

After some time dedicated to staring at Tai's earnest face, Mike finally returned the smaller kit's smile. "Okay," he said, tone sort of tentative. Embarrassed. "S-sorry."

Tai squeezed Mike's legs gently, running his paws along the thickly furred limb. The warm, silky fur helped him to think.

Last night, something had struck him, and it had rattled him to the very core. It took him saying it to Mike for his preteen vulpine mind to finally understand it. His friends always left him, or turned on him, because of Tai's own idiocy. He had so much pent up frustration, so much confusion and anger, that he would do utterly stupid things.

Before he could stop himself, words would be said; things would be done. Afterwards Tai didn't even feel it was himself who had done it. He was just as startled as the friend who'd come to comfort him, or had the misfortune of being in just the wrong place at the wrong time. Eventually, he'd try to apologize once he worked up the courage, but they never listened... he just kept doing it again and again, so why should they?

Timid and distrustful, Tai would also avoid the ones that tried to become his friends, seeking comfort in books and beanbags in libraries. Books and comics didn't judge him, didn't hurt him, and he didn't hurt them.

Eventually it got to the point where he simply didn't trust anyone to be close to him--literally. His strange, reclusive behavior, weak and effeminate appearance, debilitating shyness and obvious poverty made him a prime target for the crueler kits, and nobody ever came to his aid because he'd scared them off by being a crazy little jerk. Even his teachers, not that they were much use in the first place.

That revelation colored everything a darker shade. Tai had never had a high opinion of himself, but now he was almost shocked by what he perceived to be his level of idiocy.

But so far not once had Mike turned on him. Most importantly, when he was with Mike, Tai had almost never felt that frustration compelling him to screw things up. Whenever he had, Mike had immediately forgiven him!

In fact, the only thing that Mike seemed to be annoyed at was his distrusting nature. He didn't care that Tai had no money; he actually appreciated Tai's looks; he didn't pass judgment when Tai got all silly and playful; and oddly enough, he kept insisting that Tai was actually smart--even though Tai couldn't think of any time where he'd actually shown that around Mike or his dad.

Their friendship was nothing like anything Tai had experience before. Just knowing he was going to wake up and see the older boy near him had sent him to bed happy - even with the horrible nightmares that plagued his sleep now, Tai felt he could handle them, because the moment he woke up crying, someone was there for him.

Mike meant more to him than anything now.

So why the hell would Tai give a damn why Mike decided to become his best friend ever? Who ever cared why a friend became a friend, if he was a true one? It just didn't strike him as important. Mike was the most important fur Tai had ever met, and that was that.

Mike sighed and scooted down the bed so he could cuddle Tai's chest. After a moment, he leaned downwards and they touched noses. The hazel and green eyes just melted into one another in much the same way as the bodies did with the embrace.

"You know... want to do something until Jake is here?"

"Hmm?"

"We haven't played the Gamestation together for ages."

Tai actually laughed away that idea. "Nuh-uh!" he said. "I have a better idea."

Only a few inches from his own eyes, Mike's blinked, a little surprised. "Oh?"

Shaking a little, Tai slid his muzzle downwards just fraction of an inch. He opened up, and his warm breath lightly tickled the hairs on the tip of Mike's snout. With an almost reverent sigh, Tai pressed his muzzle to Mike's. The leafy jewels of his eyes vanished behind his eyelids.

It didn't take much persuasion for Mike. He gladly opened up himself.

Tai scooted closer and kissed tenderly, his paws resting on Mike's shoulders. He sent his tongue forth, shivering as it slid over the tip of his friend's.

Kissing was so weird, he thought as he tentatively flicked his tongue around towards the front of Mike's muzzle. It felt wonderful in his opinion though. Sent little tingles right through him when the saliva-slick tongues brushed against each other. But that wasn't it. It was such a strange situation, to be so close to another, to have some of the most vulnerable things on his body near another's... he would have to thank Mike one day for introducing it to him.

Groaning, Mike wrapped his arms higher around Tai's chest, pulling the smaller boy's shoulders inwards and securing a grasp on the kit's nape, locking his fingers into the long head-fur. He pressed them both together more firmly, and his own tongue started to probe around deeply as he locked their delicate muzzles together tightly.

They knelt together on the printed covers of the bed, twining their sensitive tongues and running little paws over one another's bodies, into those warm nooks and crannies, those exposed and those still hidden by soft clothing. It was almost as much curious exploration as it was a passionate kiss, both boys suddenly enthralled by this intimate activity they had rarely taken the opportunity to enjoy with one another.

It was even better than Tai remembered the first time.

Mike squeezed Tai to him, upping the pace and slowly but surely pushing Tai backwards, laying him flat.

It barely even registered. Tai whined and reciprocated as Mike made it clear he wanted to get a little more energetic. It was hard to breathe; but when he did, he could literally taste Mike's breath. It wasn't bad at all; Tai had heard plenty of furs talk about how bad others' breath could be, but he never really noticed anything truly stinky or disgusting whenever he was this close to Mike.

He felt his shoulders touch the mattress, and Mike settled his weight on top of his chest...

All of a sudden, Mike pulled away with a gasp. "Oh, I forgot to shut the door!" He looked back over his shoulder, and indeed the door was ajar, offering any passersby a clear view of the bed and the two snogging vulpines.

As Mike moved to go and shut the door, Tai jolted upright and loudly clonked the side of his head on the wall the bed was up against. He didn't even make a sound; just fell back onto the mattress again.

"Oh shit, are you alright?" exclaimed Mike, forgetting immediately about the door and instead hovering over Tai.

Tai blinked a few times, his eyes watering, but he nodded. "Y-yeah..." he replied. He squeezed his eyes closed briefly, but when he opened them he seemed alright-- if a little unhappy.

"You're sure?" Mike gingerly reached out to touch the side of the kit's head. Tai winced, but nodded again. There was absolutely no indication that he was about to cry, and that surprised Mike. If he'd smacked his head off the wall like that he'd be fighting back the tears.

Tai pulled himself into a seated position and smiled wanly. "I'm alright."

"Sorry, that was my fault," blurted Mike. "Um, I'll go shut the door."

He did that, checking the corridor briefly. Then Mike sidled back up to the kit, who was gently rubbing his temple. "Oww." Mike's tone was apologetic. "My fault. Sorry."

With a slightly comical glare at the wall, Tai shook his head. "Nuh-uh. Stupid wall's fault."

Mike giggled at that. "Yeah, stupid wall." Then he wistfully added, "I guess that ruined everything, huh?"

"Doesn't have to," Tai said hopefully.

Laughing some more, Mike sat beside his friend again. "Is your head alright?"

"Yeah. I won't cry, it's okay." The tawny kit smiled and snuggled up to Mike's thighs.

"I never said you would!" Mike said happily, squeezing the back of Tai's neck firmly, massaging it. "Lie on your back a second!" he suddenly ordered, repositioning himself behind Tai. Curious, Tai did so.

"Like this?"

A pair of paws slipped in under Tai's cheeks, brushed the side of his neck until they tightly grasped the back of his head. "Gyeehee!" Tai tensed up slightly. "That tickles!"

Mike pulled on the littler kit's head, lifting it forwards and up. "Tell me how this feels. I've gone to physiotherapists before and they did this for me." He started to also push his fingers in to the soft space at the base of the younger pup's head.

To say Tai liked it was an understatement of the worst kind. He groaned and instantly went limp. "W-wow," he whimpered, wincing slightly. "Wh-what're you doing? It feels weird!"

"Just a massage," replied Mike offhandedly. "You've never had one before? I've never done it before, but I've had a few."

"No..." Honestly, Tai had rarely been touched by anyone in his life. Now, the tension in his neck muscles that he hadn't even noticed before was being magically removed by just Mike's inexperienced paws. His eyes closed and he started to feel lightheaded.

"Even my dad's given me some before," Mike added quietly, staring down at the woozy Tai's face. "You can have them on your back, your paws... anywhere. They're good for you too."

There was no real reply from Tai. He nodded very slightly and started to breathe steadily through an open muzzle. "Mhmm..."

With a content smile on his own features, Mike continued to admire his 'catch.' It was still a matter of some surprise to him that things had gone so far and so fast with Tai. He realized long ago that it could only have been this way if Tai had wanted it just as much as he had. That meant everything.

"You're adorable!" he said frankly. Then grinned almost wickedly when Tai sheepishly squirmed as a reply.

Fending off somnolence, Tai opened his eyes. "Would your dad come in at all?" he said softly. "At this time?"

Checking his clock, Mike shrugged. "He might. He knocks first though. Why?"

"I want to cuddle until Jake gets here."

"We're doing that, aren't we?"

Tai's smile got shy and he almost averted his gaze. "I wanna do more than just cuddle."

"Oh." Mike sniggered. "We can do whatever you want. We can do stuff with clothes on you know. Or go have a shower."

Tai beamed and settled down again.

However, that line of thought brought an interesting idea to Mike, and he frowned as he struggled with it for a few moments. "You know," he began, "I don't know how dad would act if he found out what we were doing."

The green eyes opened again. "What d'you mean?"

Starting to swirl and push his fingers in even more - to the delight of his subject - Mike shrugged. "I don't know what he'd do. I think he could freak out and go really crazy, because he'd be thinking about what happened to me two years ago." He swallowed. "Or he might be totally okay with it. My dad's cool with a lot of stuff."

Tai tensed slightly, gazing up at his friend.

"I-I think he knows anyway, maybe," Mike continued pensively. "I dunno. He's never said anything."

Suddenly looking scared, Tai blurted, "No, don't tell him! Please!"

"What's wrong?"

Tai shuddered. "Parents don't like this stuff. They always go crazy about it; and they never even tell you what's wrong with it."

"Not my dad, Tai. He'll tell you what's wrong with it; he always does, and yesterday was the craziest I've ever seen him get, because I put you in danger."

The tawny kit looked anxious for a moment, then he closed his eyes. "He's still a grownup. It's better if they don't know things."

Mike looked down sadly at the gloomy kit. There it was again! Tai didn't trust anyone; not even Mike's dad. Mike was starting to visualize some kind of force-field around Tai, that whenever someone tried to speak to him, he just threw up and hid behind until they went away. Which was, at least, a cool mental image, but it was just so irritating.

It was so wrong that Tai was doing it to him, and to his father...

There was a sharp rap on the door, and Tai instinctively slipped away and sat up while Mike asked who it was.

The door opened, and his dad stuck a grinning muzzle in. "Hi boys," he said. "Almost time for me to leave. Jake will be here soon."

"Alright," responded Mike, sighing.

"Tai, when I get back, we need to talk about your schooling, alright?"

Tai shot the adult a dismayed glance, and he inhaled sharply. He didn't reply.

From the direction of the front door, there was a rhythmic banging. "Oh. There we go. I'll see you later boys. Keep your chins up, and be safe."

When he shut the door, Tai continued to stare blankly into middle distance.

"What's up, Tai?" asked Mike, leaping to his feet and stretching. He hoped the abrupt movement would snap Tai out of his sudden reverie. It was easier than trying to discover what was on his mind. "Let's go say hi to Jake."

After a pause, Tai too leapt to his feet. "Alright!" he said, trying to sound enthusiastic.

As they made their way to the door, Mike caught his smaller friend around the shoulders with a gentle hug, and he tenderly kissed the kit's pink nose. "Mmah!" he exaggerated. "We'll continue this later. Maybe Jake will join in."

"I don't think he will."

"C'mon, Captain Miserable."

Tai moaned in dismay as his dice-roll clattered across the table top to a depressing single dot. "I'm having a bad day," he said darkly, prodding his piece along the colorful board with one finger. Then he sighed. "You fall into some quicksand and are sucked back four squares... oh, what!?"

Mike chortled and picked up the dice. "Why are you going back anywhere? Don't you drown if you fall into quicksand?" he asked, rolling a five and landing on a blank square. "How weird would it be to drown in sand?"

"Not always," Jake told him. "Most of the time it's not deep enough. It can be a pain to get out though."

"That's lame."

Jake rolled and also landed on a blank square, evoking a quiet growl from Tai. "You wouldn't say that if you were stuck in quicksand."

"Sure I would. Just for you!"

"Well, anyway, I guess they were just sick of it being random snakes and ladders."

"Yeah, guess so. Leaving ladders just lying around is one thing, but snakes?"

Tai was slumped forward with his muzzle resting on the table, looking utterly dejected--though it seemed to be because of the board-game. Robert had briefly explained what happened, and even specifically warned the stunned teenager that Tai might at any point break down. No wonder Robert had offered him extra pay. Looking after a grieving kit was something he'd never done before. But Jake felt a strange connection to the tawny little boy.

He wanted to help, any way he could.

So far, Tai seemed fine... even if he was getting trounced at this particular game. Jake wanted to say something, offer his condolences or something, but he wasn't sure he should.

When Jake arrived, the boys had emerged from their room rather unenergetically, just moments after Robert managed to give him his quick explanation. It seemed Tai lost a pitched battle with his inhibitions and he rather timidly tried to hug Jake. Jake didn't refuse him. He wouldn't refuse the bereaved pup anything.

The affectionate hug confused him at first, but after thinking about it, he got all choked up. The kit had obviously decided that Jake was his first friend in New York, and he desperately wanted comfort from anyone he trusted. He didn't, so to speak, want Jake to drift away.

Shaking away the memory, Jake refocused in time to see Tai lift the dice in one paw and dropped it pathetically. It clattered to a six.

His tawny ears perked slowly and he looked at the board hopefully, but he suddenly looked crestfallen. "Oh, crap." Six ahead of him was 'You fall off the mountain trail! Return to square one!'

Jake gawked. "You really are having terrible luck today, Tai."

"I hate this game." Tai shifted uncomfortably. "Can we do something else?" He moved a paw and knocked a cup of juice over, spattering his t-shirt and pants with bright red liquid. He just looked at the cup in shock for a moment before groaning aloud.

Mike shrugged. "I'll get it," he offered, standing and heading to the kitchen for a cloth. "You should go change, Tai! Your clothes are in my room still."

Tai stood too and walked down the hallway, careful to make sure none of the juice dripped off of him. He opened Mike's room door while ripping his soiled shirt over his head. He spied his unopened suitcase on Mike's floor and ambled over to it, simultaneously dropping his pants.

At least he hadn't juiced his underwear somehow. He wasn't even sure where they were packed.

Back in the kitchen, Jake was busy rinsing the cup out in the sink, trying not to laugh at the poor kit's misfortunate. There was a knock on the front door, and Mike stopped mopping up the juice to look at it. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Why would someone be knocking at eight at night?

Jake stepped towards it. "Yes?"

The response was a gruff, urgent voice. "Hey, I live above you guys. I found a leather wallet with uhh... Robert Donaldson's name in it. Down in the lobby. It had this address in it, so, uhh... yeah."

Jake walked to the door, a little confused. "Oh, alright, can you leave it at the door?"

"Someone could steal it."

"Uh, alright then, hang on." Jake walked to the door and yanked it open.

He saw the torque wrench coming, but didn't see anything beyond it, or get a chance to duck. The metal instrument slammed into his head with a sickening crunch, and Jake crumpled to the floor.

A huge tiger ambled into the apartment. He was wearing a leather jacket and black pants, and he grinned when he saw the shocked Mike gaping at him in terror. "Hello, boy-o," he growled as two other thugs filed in behind him, moving straight for Mike.

The kit screamed in fright, darting around behind the kitchen table.

Muttering to himself, the tiger blocked the doorway and folded his arms, watching events unfold.

Down the hall, a much smaller, tawnier fox-boy came out of a room, wearing just a pair of jeans on his tiny body and holding a shirt in his hands. The tiger gave an ugly laugh, turning and casually shutting the door.

Mike yelled at the top of his voice for help, trying to keep the table between him and a rat, while his friend, what seemed to be a bull-terrier, went down the hall for Tai. "No!" the kit yelled, as the rat suddenly dashed around the table, smirking.

Tai tried to dash back into Mike's room, but the invading dog caught his tail when he turned, brutally yanking him backwards. "No, don't!" he tried to plead, but the kidnapper just slipped a forearm in front his neck, pulling up and back. He dragged the boy easily into the living room, choking him painfully into silence.

"I got mine," the muscle-bound goon joked.

Mike froze, some foolish impulse trying to get him to go help, when the rat grabbed his shoulder. "Let go!" he cried fearfully, instantly lashing out with a small fist that caught his attacker on the point of the nose. The rat yelped and stumbled back, clutching his nose.

Before Mike could turn around, however, he was shoved harder than he'd ever been in his life. He felt a single paw on his back, and suddenly he was flying forwards.

He crashed face first to the ground, the wind leaving his body. He struggled to his feet, but a massive paw closed around the back of his neck and pulled him backwards.

Something slammed into his stomach, just below the sternum and into his solar plexus. A choked gurgle escaped his throat as the pain gushed through him, and his whole body seemed to collapse inwards.

The paw released him and he sank to his knees. A sort of buzzing, fuzzy noise started up in his ears, but he could still make out the tiger's voice, albeit indistinctly over his own coughing.

"See, Sammy. You can't be all pussy-footed when kids are givin' you trouble. Just do what you gotta do to get 'em to behave. It's just like women."

It hurt so much, as if something up inside his chest had been crushed. He couldn't breathe either; his lungs had just locked up. Things were getting fuzzier and darker by the second... was he going to pass out?

He'd never passed out before. Did it hurt?

Mike felt himself being lifted up, and through the tiny, unfocused slits his vision had become, he could see a rather pissed off rat. He had a ridiculous ear-ring that looked like a violin, and a thin drool of blood was coming out his nose for some reason.

Suddenly it was all just blackness.

Chapter 10

Robert adjusted the ice-pack, gingerly pressing it more firmly against his bandaged temple. He couldn't help but wince...

He was hurting, but glad to be home safe at least. Sitting in his comfy recliner, just nursing his injuries - and of course that latte he suddenly developed a craving for after being kicked square in the head. After the events earlier, being able to put his paws up in a soft cotton bath-robe was wondrous.

Though he did wonder why being kicked in the head made him want a coffee. That was just bizarre.

"Daaaad?" his eight-year-old son enquired, looking a little concerned as he wandered into the softly-lit den. "What the heck did you do to your head?"

Robert shrugged. "I uh, just slipped on the stairwell at the university. Came down pretty hard."

"Oh. Klutz. You okay?" Mike flicked an ear as he took a seat on the recliner's wide armrest. He looked pointedly at the bandages encircling Robert's leg, just below the rolled up leg of his corduroy pants. "What about your knee? That looks pretty bad too."

The grownup chortled, taking a sip of his coffee. He rarely allowed himself coffee; maybe it was time to stop being such a stickler for foolish things like that. He was getting older now. It was time for him to just enjoy life a little more, or so he tried to tell himself. "It'll be alright soon, I hope. My headache worries me more." That was a lie. His knee could well need surgery, but his son had a long list of little quirks, and the notion of his dad going into surgery of any kind frightened him.

"You got injured during football, didn't you?" Mike asked, leaning onto his dad's shoulder affectionately. There was just a touch of admonition in the kit's voice.

"I did. Don't sit on the armrest, Michael, you'll damage it."

Mike promptly slid onto his dad's lap, careful to avoid hurting the leg. "You had a bad day," the kit said gravely. "Anything I can do?"

"Nope." Without waiting a second, Robert gave his son a huge hug. It had only been a few days since Mike had been traumatically raped, and yet he was more concerned about his dad's headache. "Thanks for asking though."

"No charge."

"I think I'll just sit on my backside all night and let the pain sort of... subside."

"There's some blood on your whiskers, you know."

"I know. Your hair is getting pretty long now, you know."

Mike grinned and let his dad tenderly brush back some of his medium-length head-fur. "Yep. Gonna grow it. Wanna see how it looks if it's longer."

"How much longer?"

The kit snickered. "Just a bit."

"That's alright then. Wouldn't want anyone to think you were a girl, would we?" They both chuckled. "Urgh." Robert touched his head again. "I think this headache is just getting started."

"I'll get you something for it! Don't move!" Mike made to jump to his unshod paws, but he thought better of it and rather cautiously pulled himself off his dad. He made his way to the kitchen, hunting for the painkillers.

The apartment door rattled loudly as someone knocked it with all the delicacy of a butcher tenderizing an elephant carcass.

"Do you want me to get it?" Mike called uncertainly back into the den, pausing. The catch in his voice indicated that he really didn't want to.

"No," responded his father, hauling himself upwards and starting to limp towards the door. "I'll get it." His paw slipped around his back, closing around the metal handle protruding from his corduroy pants' waistline. It never usually resided there or anywhere within reach of his son, but things were anything but usual at the moment.

He snuck up to the side of the door, and rapped the surface of the door, at about head height. There was no blast, nothing tearing through the door. After a moment he quickly stole a look through the eyehole, and blinked in surprise. Instantly, he tugged the door open.

"What're you doing here?" he gasped at the old, strangely lean brown-bear in his grey suit.

"Good to see you too, Robert," the bruin replied, amused. "Didn't think I'd take a little interest in the current events?"

Robert smiled wryly. "Events? Don't you mean crisis?"

"That hasn't been decided yet. May I come in?"

"Dad?" Mike asked, having joined his dad at the door. He looked enquiringly at the old bruin, but said nothing further.

Robert thought quickly. "Er, he's from the Education Department, Mike," he said. "I didn't expect him so, uh, early."

The bark-furred pup instantly checked the clock on the wall behind him. "But it's seven in the evening."

"Exactly, I expected him around eight. Come on in."

The trio ambled back into the den, with Robert's limping gait rather pronounced. Mike took up the rear, regarding the bruin suspiciously.

"Would you like a drink of anything?" Robert asked graciously, gesturing for the old bear to take a seat on the comfy gray settee before the television.

The bear slowly lowered himself to the couch, groaning in exertion. "Coffee would be great," he muttered.

"Alright. Mike, please go to your room. This is a private discussion."

The kit looked at his father, surprised. "D-dad?"

"It's alright, it's nothing important. I'll let you know if anything's wrong. Go get ready for bed, okay; we're hitting the pool tomorrow morning. You've missed over a week of practice."

With one last uneasy glance at the bruin, Mike shuffled reluctantly towards his room. It was plain he wanted to object further, but recent events had made him a little nervous; he definitely wanted to keep in his father's good books. So he obeyed without comment.

When the bedroom door was finally shut, the bruin chuckled. "He's sharp, isn't he?" he said in his dusty voice. "How's he holding up?"

Robert folded his arms. "Very well. It's almost as if it never happened."

"The therapy helping him out?"

"Not really. I thank you for paying for it, but he absolutely resents it; says the therapist treats him like an idiot, and that he's quite happy to forget about the incident. The therapy just keeps reminding him about it."

"Intriguing. He's a stunning young lad; but why is he so apprehensive at my presence? Or is he just like that with everyone now?"

"Hm? Oh, no." The vulpine laughed briefly. "I slipped up, Mitchell. He's got a few quirks, you see. One of them is simply that he hates the State Education Department."

"Oh? He has opinions like that and he's not even ten?"

"You could say that. He's heard a few horror stories of the government taking children from their parents--and he knows that the reasons aren't always good. Since he's a special case because he's home-schooled by a single parent, he's basically scared that someday Social Services will kidnap him and take him away from me. He's more concerned about it now than ever before."

Mitchell scratched his nose. "That's a much more mature fear than the ones that plagued me at his age. Monsters under the bed and all."

"I think you'll find if you look back, that you did have rather mature points of view and fears amongst the childish ones." Robert grinned. "I'm not so convinced that you ever grow out of them all. Do you want that coffee now?"

"Oh dear god no; I had about three in the last two hours. I just wanted to set your boy at ease by not acting all business."

"Appreciate it. But what more do you need from me now?"

"Not really that much. I just wanted to stop by personally and make sure you knew that we... that I appreciate what you've gone through."

Robert nodded solemnly. "Was there any way to tell whose information Nathan was after?"

"Not a chance. He just took everything. No better way to conceal what you're looking for." Mitchell paused. "Though he mentioned Eraline, didn't he?"

"Yes, he did." The fox's expression became uneasy. "Shit, you don't think-?"

"Calm down, Robert. The records he got from you won't help him if he's looking for her. Though it would make perfect sense if she was his target--perhaps."

"Why won't the records help him?" a baffled Robert asked, taking a seat on his comfy black recliner once again. "And why would anyone be after her? Nathan didn't really know her, did he? It can't be a personal thing."

Mitchell laughed. "Oh, you just can't help yourself, can you? The records won't help him because she's not on them anymore. Her full dossier is compartmentalized information; classified. As for why they're after her, you know I can't tell you. Really, it sounds like he was just trying to banter you to death."

Robert cursed. "If she gets hurt, you know I'll kill Nate, right?"

"I do, in fact, know that." The bruin smiled. "You're just itching for the rematch, aren't you?"

"Not exactly. I think next time I'll just shoot him in the back; it's probably the smarter option."

"Nathan wouldn't want to face you again if he could avoid it. He's always respected you. My guess is that you were the only one he had a location for."

Falling silent for a second, the fox wrung his inky paws. "God damn it," he groaned. "I hope Eraline is alright."

"Thomas died, you know."

Slowly, Robert looked up, incredulous. "What?!"

"Some time ago. He was on a fishing boat, and an ice-breaker carved it in half."

"You tell me this now?! W-was he...?"

"No. As far as we're aware, no. Visibility was poor; at about midnight, the breaker's sonar systems were, uh, disrupted by winds and heavy rain. Everyone on board the trawler was killed either on impact or by drowning; except Tom. Hypothermia got him a few hours later."

The news sent Robert reeling. He stared in horror at his section chief. "Unbelievable... when?"

"About a year and a half ago, or so. I'm sorry; I couldn't tell you until now."

The fox nodded, touching a paw to his head again. "Oh my god."

"I'm sorry, Robert. It's been a terrible few years for you. I'm really sorry."

The fox blinked a few times. He felt hollow and weak all of a sudden. It had been some time since he'd spoken with his friend, and the pain this news evoked felt strangely distant, yet still horrible and insidiously sickening. It was, he supposed, like hearing of a brother's death; a brother you had not seen in some time, but still loved deeply.

"If you'll forgive me switching topics, why do you still let Mike stay at home alone?" enquired Mitchell, as always definitively lacking in the realm of diplomacy.

Robert nodded, in fact grateful for the subject change. "After that day, he begged me not to put him in daycare or change anything," he said softly. "He likes the time alone."

"I'm surprised you listened."

"Mike isn't a normal case, Mitch. I've been leaving him alone a few hours of the week since he was seven. He knows how to handle himself, and he's not so young that he'll drink bleach or see if he can fit forks into outlets. And he didn't let Nate in; Nate got in by himself. If I freaked out over that, I'd be over-reacting."

"How do you mean?"

Robert chuckled weakly. "It's not every day a former field-ops officer breaks into your house. I don't suspect it'll happen again."

"I see your point. I take it he has opinions about day-care too?"

"No, it's me with those opinions. I'll still let him have his alone-time, but I suppose I should cut back a little on how often I leave Mike by himself. I've taken a few weeks off to keep him company, but that won't last. There's a kid that I know--I know his father, and we both help out with the monthly swimming meets uptown. Mike competes, and this guy helps set it up. His son is about fifteen, and he baby-sits for me occasionally. I think I'll be employing him more often now, though."

"I assume he's reliable?"

"Oh yeah. Straight-A student."

"I hope he can keep up with Mike then."

Allowing himself a laugh, Robert grinned at his boss. "They get along fine. Have done since they met."

Mitchell sighed and stood. "Good. I'm sorry to bring bad news to you, Robert. But don't concern yourself about Eraline at the moment; she and her son are safe for now, if a bit upset."

"I'm sure they are..." Robert sniffled, suppressing a sudden onset of shaking. "Is that all?"

"Yeah, kid, it is," the bruin grinned. "Keep your chin up. We'll do all we can to track Nate and his employers down. I'm sure you want revenge for what he did to Mike?"

"Somewhat." Robert looked in the direction of his son's room. "It's hard to think of him as a victim. I know he doesn't want me to get upset over him, and even he doesn't seem to hate Nate. I guess you could say I just want to kick his ass into a coma, rather than castrate and hang him. That was my initial instinct, though."

"I'm sure he'd thank you for it. Now, call your son out here so I can put his fears to rest."

With a curious expression, Robert called out for his kit.

A few moments later, the bedroom door opened, and his pajama-clad pup came into the den, holding a junior biology book Robert had recently bought for him about the workings of eyes. Mike had only started reading it that evening, and he'd already devoured about two-thirds of its contents. "Yeah dad?"

"C'mere a second."

The kit obliged, laying his book on the floor in the corridor. "Um, sure."

Mitchell chuckled. "Just wanted to say that I'm quite impressed by your work with your father," he said. "You're an excellent student."

Mike blinked, but then seemed to get a little embarrassed. "Thank you," he said, unusually diffident. He didn't often find himself being complimented by total strangers.

The lean bear made to leave, but then he paused, an inquisitive and cheeky expression on his features. It looked bizarrely inappropriate on him; quite youthful. "One question, Michael," he said. "What came first, the chicken or the egg?"

The kit raised an eyebrow. "The egg of course."

Mitchell's response was a bit surprised. "How so?"

"Because chickens weren't always around. They evolved from something, and that something laid an egg, and the first chicken came out of it."

The bear stared at him.

"Satisfied?" quipped Robert, grinning.

It had been a rather eventful day.

The meeting point was, as always, some rundown shitty little building in the middle of nowhere. Nathan, as he leaned against the grimy wall of the apartment complex, found himself wishing for once that he could do his business in a casino or something, the way they did in the movies. He was a little sick of backstreets, slums and desolation, and having to be here in this desolate backstreet in a slum felt like life was just kicking him in the nose.

Though he did somewhat deserve it at the moment, he guessed. He'd done some nasty things in his life, but molesting a child came near the top. Not the top, he knew. Everyone always got so worked up over such things, but they always seemed to forget that there were much, much worse things you could do to someone than interfere with them sexually. Dental torture and cold-blooded murder came to Nate's mind, and he'd done both of those.

The street was narrow and the buildings lining it were mostly occupied by families upon families of the poor and hopeless. Few strayed outside at this time. Only the occasional dirty, poorly dressed fur ambled purposelessly along, their fur unclean and their expressions of bleak indifference or hard suspicion.

Ridiculous things were strewn about the sorry street, such as a ruined boat that had rather clearly been converted into a swimming pool--the seating area had been stripped out and lined with moldy tarpaulin, and filled with water. It was filthy water, and things were quite obviously growing within it, but it was still quite likely in use.

A street-light had a pair of shoes dangling from it, which indicated a drug-dealer was nearby. Nathan found himself wondering if the same children who used the boat-pool also partook of the narcotics just up the road. Probably, actually. And while he was thinking about it, how many of them were abused in ways that made what he did to Mike Donaldson seem like a friendly encounter?

"What a shit-hole," Nate grumbled to himself.

He heard the crunching of grit beneath tires, and finally some brakes squealed nearby. He looked down the road at the black SUV as two burly furs clambered out. They were rather large, to say the least. One of them, a huge tiger with biceps as big as Nate's head, strode towards the grimy wall the ferret was leaning indolently on.

"Did you get it?" he rumbled bluntly.

"Naturally."

"I heard you had some fun while you were in there."

Nathan smirked. "I suppose it could qualify as that. He was a cute little guy."

"I'll look into him then."

"I don't advise it, Marco. Not if you want to live."

The tiger's eyes narrowed. "Give it to me."

"All in good time, my muscle-bound friend. Where's my money?"

"You're not in a position to be making demands, ferret."

Nathan laughed in the big creature's face. "Actually, I am. It's not on me, so you'd better behave nicely towards me. Especially considering I can get my hands on you here."

Nate hated this big fuck-wit, and had been hoping to provoke him for quite some time. It was quite easy to provoke someone like this; just imply that you can take him, and he'll set out to prove you wrong. After the tension of today, Nate felt he deserved a cathartic release.

The tiger swung a huge haymaker right at Nate's face, but the huge arm moved almost ponderously towards its target. Laughing, Nate leisurely leaned backwards, letting the over-extended punch whiff right by his whiskers, and he cheerfully retaliated with one of his favorites, a horizontal elbow.

Marco cried out once and reeled backwards, almost falling to his backside. He gingerly touched his forehead above his left eye, and was visibly shaken to discover it was not only bleeding profusely, but that the injury was a huge gash nearly two-inches wide. The sticky red liquid started to ooze down his forehead and was already threatening his eye. "Wh-what-?!"

"Oh, I feel so much better all of a sudden!" chortled Nathan. "You're good at looking scary and lifting heavy objects my friend. Leave the actual fighting to the adults--or rather, to those with adult intellect, which certainly doesn't qualify you."

The tiger looked at him, genuinely frightened. There's something unnerving about being cut open with a single strike by a chuckling maniac half your size, after all.

"Now, are you going to keep this civil? Or do I have to shoot your idiot friend in the head for trying to come at me from behind?" Nate twisted to grin at the bull-dog behind him, who froze mid-creep. "I could be scrubbing down the barrel before you even hit the ground, moron. Get in front of me."

The canine obliged.

"I'll be taking my money- and that ring of yours, Marco; it's very nice- for my troubles. Don't try to stiff me."

Marco rather carefully withdrew a huge wad of cash from his leather jacket and handed it to Nathan, who instantly stuffed it into his pocket. He then handed him another. And another. "Th-that's ten thousand. You'll get another forty when we have the stuff." There was a pause while Nate just glared at the tiger, and eventually Marco removed the ring from his meaty finger and passed it to the ferret. His expression was sour, but he seemed to be keen on avoiding any more confrontation. He quickly put the paw to his forehead, trying to stem the flow of blood which was by now damaging his silk shirt.

"Very good. Two streets away, there's a broken section of the sidewalk." Nathan smiled. "Business is easy if you stop trying to pick fights, Marco."

"Did you hear from our guy?" the dog suddenly asked. "We sent him to meet up with you."

"No," Nathan replied coolly. "You sent someone, did you?"

"Yeah. Javier. He's one of the best shooters we've got. He was supposed to help you out."

"Afraid I heard nothing." Truth be told, Javier was busy decomposing in the Hudson. Nate felt little remorse at killing a fur that was himself a murderer, and he had no intention of letting his employers know that Robert and Mike had caught his trail. The only thing keeping those two alive at this point was the fact that the ferret had convinced everyone his plan had gone off without a hitch.

But aside from that, this Javier was most likely also supposed to have disposed of Nathan and taken the records. That would, after all, save his employers fifty-thousand big ones. That might have inconvenienced Nathan a little, so he'd taken appropriate steps.

The two burly furs exchanged a moderately worried glance, and for some reason that brightened Nate's day even more. He hoped the thugs would be appropriately distressed when their long-distance killer was discovered in Greenland with a broken neck.

"Shall we go then, gentlemen?" He pointed firmly up the street. "You first." All of a sudden he had his handgun in his paws, and the safety was disengaged. "Would rather not have either of you taking swings at me from behind. You know how it is. Dangerous times."

Almost a year later, many miles away.

It had been a horrible day.

The cold had been biting, and the snowfall had been relentless, but the weather wasn't the cause of young Tai's worries. The air was chilly, but it had been all but nothing compared to the chill of the foreboding he had felt that entire day.

It had started the very minute he'd stepped onto his school's grounds. He had made the mistake of looking up, and had met a pair of unfriendly eyes. He didn't know the boy's name yet - he was an older cougar, with misty gray fur, about eleven years of age, maybe a little older. They'd met before, alright. Tai had foolishly trusted him and his friend, and followed them one evening after school, only a few days ago.

They had led him a way into a nearby paddock. It was a short-cut, they claimed. They seemed to be friendly. He didn't know why they did it, but the two of them waited until they were passing a small lake, and then suddenly they had attacked him.

They had lifted him and bodily tossed him into the water, which was struggling valiantly to remain unfrozen at the onset of Alaskan winter. The small fox kit had floundered, trying to propel himself to the dry shore, but the cold had sliced deep into him like a frozen knife. His body had begun to stop listening, and he'd been paralyzed by fear. He inhaled mouthfuls of frigid water as he tried to scream.

The cougar and his friend had found it hilarious. Tai's mindless terror had been amusing to them, and when he had finally managed to crawl slowly and pathetically from the icy waters, skin beneath his matted fur a pale blue, they'd simply taunted him and walked off.

Tai had told his mother, who then made the appropriate complaints - it was one of the few times she seemed to be worried about Tai's troubles. However, the older boys had simply declared he was lying, and their parents even provided them with a false alibi. They had headed to the cougar's home immediately, and were there until late that evening, according to the story. The teachers, and even Eraline, had been fooled. Tai 'must have' got the wrong boys, or fallen in by himself. They accused him of lying.

Which naturally explained why some of their friends had shoved him into a wall at lunch-time the next day. Once more, some quick talking and a foolishly gullible teacher later, Tai's tormentors had walked away, leaving the small fox stunned and betrayed.

Tai had thought that was it. It surely had to be over now. The attack at lunch-time had cost him a loose tooth, and he'd not been able to get all the blood off his muzzle until he was home. It was one of the worst incidents of bullying he'd ever experienced.

But that first minute of school today, his normally downcast eyes had met with the cougar's. The older boy had given him a dark glare, then he mouthed two words to the tawny fox. "After school," was all he whispered.

Those words repeated themselves incessantly for every minute of the next six hours. Tai had been petrified. He didn't speak to anybody the entire day - to make matters worse, even his fair-weather friends had been away from class today for some reason. He never did find out why.

But it was over now. He was on the familiar trail back home, his small boots leaving prints in the thick, wet snow. Nothing had happened after all, and Tai tried to enjoy the familiar scenery, to put the whole thing out of his mind. It was a long walk back home, and the trail itself had become Tai's companion. He recognized twisted trees, broken logs and even the skyline itself: the majestic, ice-capped mountains blurred in the distance by the descent of a million, million flakes of snow.

It was as he was admiring the towering pinnacles that it happened. They had ridden their bikes to get ahead of him, and their trail had been washed over by the flurry of snow, while they had hidden easily behind thick trees.

Tai heard their paws in the snow, but before he could even turn he was savagely shoved forwards and he tumbled face first into the ground. The fall winded him, but he pulled himself to his paws again.

For his efforts, he was shoved again, this time landing awkwardly on his side. He cried out.

"Hey, bitch," taunted the cougar in a brittle voice. Tai quailed when he saw the older kit's face. On the surface, he seemed calm, nonchalant, but there was a rage in his eyes that blazed forth so hotly, Tai half expected it to melt the snow. "You didn't think I'd forgotten, did you?"

Tai looked around but there was already no point in trying to run. He was quickly surrounded by all four of the smirking band.

What came next was honestly unexpected. The cougar stepped forwards and punched Tai right in the face.

It lacked power and momentum, but still it sent the tawny pup reeling backwards, and he collapsed again in the snow.

Tai had suffered much at the hands of bullies before. But being punched in the muzzle was a totally new experience. The stinging sensation in his face was numbed purely by the sheer shock. He gawped at the bigger kit. What he didn't realize was that the others were all gawping too.

When the cougar stood over him and raised a paw, Tai instinctively curled up. "Stop!" he wailed, protecting his face with his arms. The response was a powerful kick to the small of his back, and he stiffened, the muscles around his spine juddering in a brief, painful spasm.

The cougar grabbed his victim and pulled him to his paws. He then thrust the younger kit into the snow-covered, desiccated remains of a tree - its leafless, misshapen limbs quivered, like spindly claws clutching skywards in pain, raining heavy globs of snow down on them all. "You little asshole!" yelled the cougar, an inch from Tai's face. He seemed in a stage of inarticulate rage, and Tai could merely stare at him in terror. This was a completely new level of violence to him.

It seemed like words were too difficult for the cougar boy at this point, so he just drove his fist into Tai's stomach. Then he did it again. Not happy with that, he struck the kit again in the face, and Tai felt his brain rattle like a bird in a cage. His knees gave way, but the older kit had grasped his collar. The fist was raised again, but one of the bully's friends interrupted quickly.

"Ken!" he hissed, sounding a little afraid. "Ease up! You'll hurt him real bad! He's only a second-grader!"

"Shut up!" snapped the cougar. But he looked a little sheepish, and he released Tai's collar. The kit fell sideways to the ground. "This girly snitch deserves worse."

Tai looked up and blurrily made out the cougar's face. He seemed to be trying to get himself under control, and the air around him was literally steamed by his deep, angry breaths.

Ken knelt and grasped the fox's ear. "Nobody listens to furs like you," he said, voice thick with contempt. "Nobody cares. Nobody would miss you. Maybe you'd know that if you weren't so busy running to mommy. Nobody listened to her, either." He shoved Tai's face into the snow, and leaned in closer. Tai didn't resist. He was whimpering and shaking all over. "Do it again... and I'll get you alone next time."

The last sentence had been a deathly quiet whisper, and Tai understood its meaning immediately. The cougar had only stopped because there were witnesses.

A few more choice comments later, Ken mounted his trail bike, and started to ride off. The other followed, but they looked at their leader with a certain amount of shock and even fear. They hadn't expected this brutal scene when they agreed to accompany him; they didn't think it'd be like this. One of them even looked back at Tai, clearly reluctant to leave the young cub there, alone and injured.

To say Tai was rattled would be inadequate. He lay in the snow, trembling, for half an hour. His muzzle stung and his gut ached, while his back still twitched to the rhythm of the excruciating throbbing. It didn't feel real. It didn't feel like a dream, though, either.

There was blood in his mouth, and he couldn't breathe through his nose properly - he wasn't sure if it was more blood or not, but it felt disgusting as it blocked his nose, and oozed disturbingly down his throat.

He didn't want to move at first, but eventually he compelled himself to stand; the snow was getting heavier. He staggered the remaining twenty minutes back home, the pain in his stomach making each stumbling step a torment.

What he didn't know was that one of the boys returned alone to the site of the ambush, an hour later, to make sure Tai was safely gone. He'd never find out, because his mother transferred him from this school in short order. This also meant that he never found out just why Ken had such a problem with his own activities getting back to his parents. Perhaps there was a reason behind the insane attack.

But then... Tai had long since stopped caring. About everything.

Presently...

Mike's eyes fluttered open at last.

For his effort, he was greeted by a stuffy blackness. He slowly realized his head was enclosed in what seemed to be a black trash-bag; a plastic bag of some sort, at the least. It wasn't too difficult to breathe so there was a hole somewhere, but it was still making him feel claustrophobic. It was clammy and stale-smelling. How had he ended up in a garbage bag?

Realization crashed into him like a colliding jet and he drew in an alarmed breath. Nearly fully alert once more, the fox boy demanded a status report from all his senses. He could see nothing. He could smell stagnant water and rust. He wriggled his limbs and realized he'd been bound to a chair; from the hard, smooth feel of his bonds around his wrist, he gathered he was handcuffed. Real handcuffs, not those useless plastic ones that had a 'release catch' and would break if he sat on them. At a birthday party, he'd been handcuffed by a friend who had a real pair, and he couldn't get loose at all. He'd erroneously thought, since they were made for adults, he could slip out easily.

When he strained to hear however, was when he picked up the most information. He could hear heavy footfalls on a stone floor, echoes, and the sound of waves, muffled as if far away or through a few walls. Calm conversation could be picked up by his ears, along with the harsh, tinny noise of a television nearby.

He whimpered aloud. He was tied up in an industrial area, probably surrounded by people who had no intention of being nice to him.

"Hey," a deep voice intoned. It sounded amused. "The sleeper has awoken. You've been out for hours."

Another voice laughed brusquely. "I think he actually fell asleep."

Someone tugged roughly on the plastic bag, but it caught on the kit's muzzle and jerked his head backwards painfully. "Ow!"

"Untie it at the bottom first," said yet another voice. The bag came off then, but a bright light immediately blinded Mike. He scrunched his eyes closed once more with a yelp of startled pain.

"Too bright?" the first voice said mockingly. "Aww. Poor baby."

His eyes were watering, and he tried to blink the tears away. Eventually he could see, but only blurry, indistinct figures and the light seared his eyes. "Wh-where...?" he choked weakly, trying to peer through his half-lidded eyes.

A big paw grasped his muzzle, and suddenly he was forced to look directly up at the light, while his eyelid was pried back.

"He looks alright so far."

It was the massive tiger. The muscular thug that had led the way into Mike's apartment.

Now that he thought about it, it was probably the tiger that shoved him, and then punched him like an angry freight train.

The gigantic feline was clad in black cargo pants, a simple black muscle-shirt and sported a sickening scar over his right eye. It looked almost like a knife slash that hadn't been tended to properly, but Mike thought it was too wide.

At last able to, Mike looked around. Eventually his eyes adjusted to the brightness and the spots before them eventually faded. It was a large, concrete room that he'd awoken in, with only one door--a big, metal one in fact, that looked rusted almost to oblivion. The walls and floor were dull concrete, and there was little furniture. A pair of wheeled tool-trolleys resided just a few feet to his side, and they were covered with draped tarpaulin sheets to conceal what they held.

A bull-dog that he recognized as another one of his attackers was seated to the side, on a stool against the wall. Like the tiger, he was well muscled, wearing simply street clothes and a mocking scowl that seemed a permanent fixture.

With a gasp, Mike looked around wildly. Finally, he saw Tai lying on the floor, immobile and facing away from him. His paws were firmly tied with yellow rope behind his back, and he still had nothing on his body but his jeans and shoes. "Tai!" Mike cried, instinctively trying to stand and run to his friend. The cuffs foiled him easily. "Nhn! Wh-what've you done to him?"

The tiger grunted and looked down at the tawny, shirtless pup. "Him? Nothing."

"We barely touched him," said the bull-dog. "When you passed out, he just gave up. Hasn't said a word."

"We can't get anything outta him." The tiger shrugged. "He'll be alright though. He's just having a little breakdown. It happens. You get over it."

Mike gawped at him. "G-get over it?!"

"The other people I've 'napped usually have." He shrugged again. "Most, anyway."

"Wh-what? Why did you do this?! Who are you?"

Pulling over another stool, the tiger sat. "Right to business. We'll get along fine."

When the tiger sat, Mike glimpsed something behind him. He frowned and stared hard at the figure in the corner, a few feet from Tai, watching the sleeping fox-kit. He was in street clothes, with a heavy black and gray hoodie. Even though it was indoors, his hood was up. So far, he had just stood there, staying mysteriously silent. Studying Tai intently.

"Hey, Mikey," the tiger laughed, snapping a pair of fingers in front of Mike's face. "Pay attention. Now, you know what your daddy does for a living, don't you?"

"What?"

Marco rolled his eyes. "You know who your daddy works for, don't you?" he said slowly.

Mike blinked listlessly at the looming adult. "Who he...? O-oh."

"Yeah. Now do you know what he does for them?"

The kit shook his head, confused. He really didn't.

"Your daddy looks after all the little CIA rats in this area," Marco explained patiently. "He's their controller. That means he knows who they all are. Or he knows someone who knows. When they're in trouble, they all scrabble back to their little holes. So he'll know where that is - we'd like to get them out of our fur."

The bark-furred kit just looked at the huge adult, utterly bewildered. "B-but why have you taken us!?"

"Cuz we think you know who they are." The tiger smirked. "And you're going to be a good boy and help us."

"I-I have no idea!!" Mike screeched, eyes wide. "You're kidding, right?! I only found out what he does two weeks ago!"

"Think you do." Marco leaned forward and rubbed his giant paws together. "Think 'bout all the other furs he knows. Anyone suspicious. Tell us about 'em, and we'll check it out. We've got time."

Incredulous, Mike just gawped at him. There was no way he could be serious. But the tiger was shooting a nonchalant smile at him, as if nothing was out of the ordinary at all.

There was a hoarse cough from the other side of the room, and the hooded figure shifted. "Let me speak to him, Marco."

The tiger frowned and looked over his shoulder. "You sure? I can handle this."

"You can have my leftovers." The figure shuffled over, putting a cigarette to his shadowed muzzle and inhaling deeply. His voice was soft, but almost growl-like. Slightly gravelly, yet somehow oddly youthful. "C'mon man, let me have some fun."

Marco's expression became confused. "Alright," he eventually assented, hauling his gigantic frame to his paws. Whoever this new fur was, Marco dwarfed him. "Your call."

"Yeah. Give me a few minutes with them."

Now Marco really looked baffled. "Uhh... you sure?"

The hooded figure nodded, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke.

Shrugging at his bull-dog friend, Marco made his way to the huge rusted door, and the canine followed. With an easy jerk of his massive arm, the door swung open, but the tiger paused to look suspiciously back at the smaller fur. After a brief moment, he slipped out and shut the door with surprising gentleness.

Mike frowned up at the covered face, but he could make out shockingly little. Not only was the hood quite low, steeping the features beneath it in shadow, but the protruding cigarette was blinding him with its irritating smoke. A tickle was starting in the back of his throat.

"God, I've fuckin' waited so long for this," the figure sighed at last.

"Wh-who are you?" Mike said, before a vicious paroxysm of coughing overtook him.

Chuckling darkly, the figure dropped the cigarette butt to the floor and crushed it out, before lifting his paws up and adroitly knocking his oversized hood back. "We haven't met."

Still coughing, Mike tried to look up. "Yeah, well a-all good things must come to an end," he choked out unconvincingly, trying to sound at least a little confident. Trying to hide the fear that was slowly mounting with his usual flippant defiance. Immediately he wondered why his stupid tongue had spat that out. Luckily, the new fur didn't punch him in the face as the kit expected. Instead he just chuckled darkly.

It was a wolf, Mike eventually saw. One with a stormy gray fur on his muzzle, and a slightly amused expression. He seemed younger than the others. Much younger; Jake's age. "Nice one," he complimented, taking the recently vacated stool in front of Mike. "Seriously though, don't piss me off, kid. That'd just be a bad idea. You have no idea who you're fuckin' with."

"Wh-who are you?" repeated Mike, blinking the tears from his stinging eyes. The smoke was horribly acrid, and it still lingered around them. The smell was wafting over to him from what seemed to be the wolf's very fur and clothing too. It was not something Mike was used to.

"That ain't important to you right now." The wolf sighed and looked back at Tai's limp form. His expression twisted into a sneer. "Marco tends to take awhile to get to the fuckin' point, so let's make this fast."

"B-but I don't know anything! I swear!"

The wolf reached over and whipped the blue tarpaulin cover off one of the nearby trolleys.

On the three-tiered workman's trolley were a variety of things. Mike frowned as he looked at first, but eventually his eyes jacked open to maximum width. There were scalpels, soldering irons, and even gardening implements; there was also a gigantic bolt-cutter that looked capable of crunching its way through anything it could fit around... like perhaps an arm.

"Oh... shit..." whimpered Mike. His stomach knotted painfully and he felt himself become lightheaded immediately. "No..."

"Yeah. This is why you're going to tell us, Mikey." The wolf shrugged. "When we get started, it's not you I'mma be using them on." He smirked evilly and gestured down at the floor behind him. "Him."

Mike shook his head in alarm. "No, don't!" he pleaded. "Don't do that! I'll tell you what I can, but I swear I don't know anything!"

"Every hour you don't give me a name, I might use my little friend there," the wolf pointed briefly at the bolt-cutters, "to take off one of Tai's fingers and toes. Or maybe something else. Use your imagination."

Mike fixed him with a petrified stare, and the yellow eyes that met his were coldly determined. He almost wet himself. Suddenly, all doubt that the wolf would do what he said vanished, along with whatever little fake confidence Mike could cling to.

There was absolutely no compassion in those eyes. Not one hint that he wouldn't do precisely as he said.

"Oh yeah, and when we're done, Marco's taken an interest in you. He won't be as gentle as that fuckin' ferret. He'd probably want the other brat too; a missing arm or leg don't really bother him." The wolf's expression was absolutely straight.

"Why... why are you doing this?" Mike whispered. "I'll tell you. Don't hurt us! Please, I just wanna go home."

The wolf paused, looking thoughtful. "Hm... nope, I don't think that's on the cards." He laughed. "Come on, why would I go through all of the trouble to invite you little shits here if I wasn't going to have some fun with you?"

"You're crazy!" Mike felt faint with horror. "Please leave us alone! Don't do this to us! Shit! Why us? Why not just my dad? I don't understand!"

The wolf sniffed and scratched his neck. "We'll get to him. When we start, you know, mailing bits of you both back to him, he'll tell us anything we want." He showed his yellowed teeth in a harsh grin. "Maybe. His bosses might not let him, and in that case you're fucked, kid. They'll be searching the Hudson for you for the next ten years. It'll be tough, since they'll have to find all the different bits. Probably just call it quits when they get most of you. Better hope your dad does what we want, or you're gonna die, kid."

The wolf twisted slightly and eyed the motionless fox-boy on the floor. There was a moment where the wolf seemed to freeze. He just stared at Tai, deep in thought all of a sudden.

Something was very wrong, Mike realized. There was something he was missing. He gazed at the wolf for some time, trying to place it. Trying not to look at the trolley.

"The fuck you staring at?" The wolf continued to observe Tai.

Mike swallowed weakly. "Why are you doing this?" he quavered, a begging note in his small voice. "Really. We don't know anything."

The wolf snickered darkly. "I guess it's obvious then. Game's over. You know what? I just want to kill you."

"Why?! We don't know you." Mike frowned, and his eyes widened in incredulity. "A-are you-? Is your name 'Darren' or something?"

The pause this time was ominous. But the wolf started to laugh. "Damn, you're sharp for a kid," he chuckled. "It's 'Darron'. My mom couldn't spell real good."

Mike blinked, utterly stunned. This was the wolf, the teenager, who had threatened Tai on his first day of school here in New York? That made no sense.

"Those guys, they're muscle-bound idiots." Darron stood and stretched. "What went right over their heads, a little kid got in seconds. Of course you don't know shit. But even muscle-bound morons are good for something."

"Th-then why-?!" The bark-furred kit twisted and pulled at the handcuffs futilely, and all he managed to do was have the cold steel bite deeper into his wrists. Darron looked behind the chair and checked them.

"Hm. Had to put those on their tightest setting, but I don't think you're getting out." He grinned maliciously. "If they pinch, too bad. Get used to it."

Some tinny music, rap of some kind, started to play, seemingly from the wolf's pocket. With a sigh, he retrieved his small, silver phone and struck the answer key.

"What?" he growled. There was a pause while whoever it is responded.

"Help - we've been kidnapped!" Mike yelled, leaning forwards in his chair to get closer to the device in the wolf's paws. "Help!"

Without changing expression, Darron bent down and punched the fox boy in the stomach. "Yeah, don't worry, it's just one of the kids I got 'napped," he said nonchalantly. "Down in the storerooms. Yeah."

Winded, pained and tasting acid in the back of his throat, Mike gawped in despair at the teenager.

"Alright, fuck sake, I'll be up soon." Sighing, Darron placed the phone back in his pocket. "Afraid I have to leave you pussies for now." He opened his hooded jacket, adjusting what seemed to be a gray muscle shirt. Mike stared in disbelief: there was a handgun tucked into the side of the teen's waistband.

This was just insane. Had they really been kidnapped by gang members?! Or what...? What was going on?!

Grumbling incoherently to himself, Darron strode to the heavy metal door and yanked it open. "Don't go anywhere," he taunted the handcuffed boy, before slipping past the portal and deliberately slamming the monstrously heavy door shut with a bang.

Mike stared impotently at the door.

"No way..." he whimpered to himself. A minute of incredulous staring later, he looked down at the motionless tawny boy on the ground. "Tai! Tai, can you hear me? Wake up! Please!"

There was nothing from the small kit. No response at all. He seemed to be asleep; or dead. Mike couldn't tell.

Mike sniffed and hung his head. "Tai? Please wake up. Come on... please."

Minutes passed. Maybe even hours. Mike had no way of knowing. No clock, no windows; he wasn't even sure if it was day or night. There was nothing.

Just the dirty concrete walls of a mostly empty, grimy storeroom, and a flickering, nausea-inducing strip of light on the ceiling.

"Dad..." Mike sniffled, tears welling up quickly. The true nature of the situation slowly started to come to him. He might never see his father again. This could be his last week alive - and they were going to kill Tai if he couldn't give them information they knew he didn't have. They were both going to be tortured to death worse than any movie or even website that he had ever seen had portrayed; he couldn't even bring himself to look at the tray mere feet to his side.

He closed his stinging eyes and tried to stop the inevitable crying fit that he knew was coming. "Shiiiiit!" he wailed, scrunching his eyes shut and starting to sob pitiably. "I don't wanna die!" His eyes filled with tears and within moments he was hiccoughing pathetically, unable to stop it. "I don't wanna die! I w-wanna see dad again! I can't... what the hell... is going...?"

It was hopeless. He cried himself dry, until his stomach hurt and his chest ached, and he just seemed to have no more tears to give; no more energy to cry. Eventually he slumped in the chair, listless, listening with splayed ears to what little activity he could hear from beyond the heavy door; only snatches of sentences, muffled through walls, or the occasional sound of footsteps. It wasn't until he heard movement from right by him that he bothered to raise his head.

A pair of vacant and unfocused eyes, the color of verdant leaves, gazed up at him.

Tai had rolled over and was staring blankly at him. There was no way of knowing how long he had been looking at him. "...Mike?" whispered the tawny kit at last.

Mike almost fainted. "Tai!! Oh man... are y-you okay? Tai?"

Tai blinked and tried to sit up. It was an effort, with his wrists bound behind him like they were. He struggled into a sitting position and continued to dazedly stare at his friend.

"Tai, are you... can you hear me? Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah." Tai nodded and pulled himself shakily to his knees. His breathing was coming faster and faster. "I c-can..." Abruptly, the kit doubled over and threw up. It wasn't much, but the fluid burned his throat and spattered on the concrete. After it had passed as suddenly as it had come, he fell sideways, gasping.

Mike stared at him in dismay. "Oh crap! Tai?!"

No response. The kit wordlessly got to his knees again, breathing hoarsely. But then he collapsed dizzily to his backside.

Taking a deep breath, Tai struggled to focus.

He had never been so horrified. When he saw the kidnappers burst into the apartment and so viciously dispatch both Mike and Jake, there had been a rush of images and memories.

Of his mom. Then a gun at his own head. His mother's blood on his own paws. A familiar corpse on a table in a hospital. His father's simple coffin. An incredible feeling of dread and sickness, so sure that he was going to lose someone else...

And he'd just shut down. It was too much for him to take.

Now he was awake, but trapped in a concrete prison.

Still feeling weak, he fell to his side again and laid still. He tried to steady his breathing, calm down a little. Now he wished he was still in that dulling stupor.

He could remember, as if in a distant dream, that Darron was here. That was just... it made no sense. His entire body clenched and he fought off another burst of nausea. This couldn't be happening. He knew he should be panicking but he couldn't bring himself to feel anything. It was like a dream - a nightmare he just oddly didn't seem to care about right now. The concrete right in front of his face had already blurred into a meaningless gray mass. He was just too dazed; this had to be a...

"Tai? Tai!" Mike pulled on his chair, and scraped a few inches forward. "Are you still awake? Don't go to sleep again, please!"

"I'm here..." mumbled the topless cub. "W-where are we?" He asked, more out of needing something to listen to, something to focus on than out of desire to really know.

Mike swallowed and sniffed. "I-I dunno!" he said loudly. "It could be a f-factory or something, I'm not sure. Tai did you hear what that w-wolf said? We have to get out of here! They... they're gonna..."

"I-I know..." Again the tawny kit shifted around to look at his friend.

"D-d'ya know why? Why is Darron here? Wasn't he just a school bully? He's got a g-gun in his pants, Tai! Who has a gun in their pants?!"

Slowly, almost painstakingly, Tai shook his head. He didn't understand either.

"What's going on?" wailed Mike, struggling slightly with his handcuffs. The look he fixed Tai with was horrible. The brown-furred kit's eyes were wide with terror and confusion; Tai really hated seeing him like that. It was just so wrong. "Tai, don't you know anything?!"

Again Tai had to shake his head. He felt sick again. Darron wanted him, but he had taken Mike too. It wasn't fair. Mike shouldn't have to be hurt for being Tai's friend.

No, Mike should've stayed away from him. The way Tai's other friends learned to do. Tai knew he was bad luck - he always attracted people like Darron to him. Brought them down on his friends too, before they learned. Before he drove them away. Now he wished he'd driven Mike away too.

The cub felt a peculiar wrenching sensation as he looked at Mike's wild eyes. Mike was going to be hurt, because of him. Tai couldn't lose another fur that meant so much to him. Not Mike. That would just be the most horrible thing ever. He loved him...

For several minutes, he just looked blankly at the distressed older boy. His best friend ever. It was his fault, wasn't it? It was because of Tai that Mike was...

Blinking back tears, Tai started to slowly twist and move, passing his paws under his legs, then up in front of him as he lay on the ground until his tied wrists were at his front.

Mike gaped at him as he stood, stumbling. "Tai?"

The kit leaned against the trolley, his wrists now in front of him. "Let's get out of here."

"H-how?!"

"W-we'll think of something. We're going home. I-It's not going to happen, I won't let it."

"Tai?" The bark-furred boy looked at him in confusion. There was something odd here. Tai's demeanor was unusual; it wasn't that he appeared confident - rather, he seemed strangely driven all of a sudden. Almost mechanically so. The tawny fox stood straight up and his formerly dazed expression was replaced now with one of preternatural focus.

Tai looked around the room, taking in what he could. There was only one entrance to the room, which was the thick iron door. The room's actual purpose was something of a mystery; it looked like a storage room, but it was almost empty. It had probably been emptied specifically so it could be used as a makeshift prison cell.

They were alone, but Tai wasn't stupid enough to think there weren't guards right outside that door.

The contents of the makeshift jail-cell were a wheeled tool trolley holding what appeared to be a random collection of paraphernalia and tools; another trolley, still covered by a tarpaulin; a few thin rusted iron pipes that were about six foot tall long, splintered and flaking, leaned against the filthy, stained wall; and the stools.

On the wall opposite the door was a ventilation shaft, but the opening was blocked with a rusted wire mesh. It also wasn't big enough for even Tai to fit his shoulders through. Tai narrowed his eyes at it speculatively.

"T-Tai?" wavered Mike, curious. "What the heck are you up to?"

Tai walked back over to the covered trolley and pushed it over to the rusted door. He slowly and quietly maneuvered the wheeled table up against the metal surface. To push the door open, they'd have to knock the heavy trolley to the side. Tai wasn't sure, since he knew he was small himself, but he didn't think that'd be an easy chore.

Then he strode over to the other trolley, stopping to look closely at the thin, yellow rope around his wrists. The edges of the trolley were blunt, and the rope was tight.

But there was that gigantic pair of bolt-cutters. Luckily, they had bound his slender arms together rather than crossed over at the wrists - he still had the dexterity to take a hold of things.

He attempted to lift the oversized tool, but the weight was surprising and he almost dropped it. Resting the plastic insulted handles on the ground and holding them in place with his skinny legs, he placed his wrists at the tip of the blade, and pushed downwards. The tip of the blade barely did anything to the strong synthetic rope.

Tai frowned, clumsily manipulating the handles with his legs to open the cutters' jaws, and placed the knot pinning his wrists together into it. He used his leg to pull the handles together again, starting to saw and pick at the ropes with the sharp metal.

The process took time, and the cumbersome tool almost fell to the concrete several times, but at last he felt the rope slacken. The cinch came undone and the frayed mess the knot had become fell apart as he vigorously ripped his paws out of there.

"Nice!" Mike exulted quietly.

Tai didn't pause to congratulate himself. He darted behind Mike's chair and knelt down. Mike's arms were handcuffed behind the back of the wooden chair; they encircled Mike's wrists quite effectively, though they did seem to be on the tightest possible setting. That probably explained the rope... if something could barely wrap around Mike's arms, Tai would be able to slip out without even noticing it.

This was bad. Rope was one thing, but steel handcuffs were a totally different matter. Tai took the bolt cutters up again, going behind Mike's back. It felt like he was carrying an anvil - the cutters were just too heavy for him; each limb was as long as his forearm. He gasped and grunted as he tried to maneuver into position. It had been hard enough to hold the stupid thing on the ground with his legs and saw apart a knot...

"Tai?" the older boy enquired. "What are you gonna do?"

"I'm gonna cut them..." Tai said, uncertainly. "Unless you can get out?"

Mike twisted his wrists and grunted. "Ah! No. It hurts."

Almost immediately, he felt Tai place the cutters on the chain - rather, he nearly dropped them onto the chain. After a pause while the kit gathered himself, there was a loud, metallic snap. Tai let out a hiss and repositioned the tool. "It didn't go through," he huffed. "It slid off. I'll- I'll try again."

Tai steeled himself and tried to close the levers together. He strained and panted against the safety spring that fought his efforts, his arms going numb and starting to shake. After well over a minute of incredible effort, his knees actually buckled and he let out a defeated whimper. "Unnhh! M-Mike!" he sobbed, struggling to hold the oversized cutters in place. "I'm not strong enough! I can't do it!" He knelt down, feeling that odd, alien determination start to seep out of him, replaced by familiar cold self-disappointment.

"You gotta keep trying!" encouraged Mike, straining against the cuffs some more. "You'll get it eventually. You can do it."

"I can't..." The tawny kit sniffed. Tai swallowed and lowered the tool to the ground. His entire body had gone rubbery all of a sudden. "I'm not strong enough, Mike..."

Mike growled quietly at him. "Well, think! C-c'mon Tai, you've done so well so far!! You're smart! You can do it!"

"B-but-!"

"You can do it, I know you can. So get goin'! You'll definitely never get it done if you just give up!"

After a confused moment, Tai nodded. "O-okay. Alright." He looked closer at the handcuffs. The chain holding them together was slender, constructed of many links of shiny metal. The kit frowned, gripping the bolt-cutters again.

It was phenomenally difficult now, but he slowly lifted the tool up, and lowered it in such a way the tip of a blade slipped into one of the slender links. He pushed downwards, jamming the sharp edge as deeply into the space as he could, before lowering the handles and straddling them. Mike winced as the weight of the cutters caused the cuffs to dig deeper into his wrists.

"Ow! Careful!"

"Sorry. H-hold on..." The tawny kit drew in a deep breath, his muscles shuddering from exertion. If he could snap the side of just one link in the chain... maybe...

Suppressing a weak groan, Tai pulled the bottom handle upwards. The rubber handle pressed painfully into his groin, and he almost gave a pained outcry. His body's shaking started to rise in intensity until he juddered uncontrollably. It took only several seconds, but they were several painful seconds.

Finally, there was a violent crack, and Mike felt a vibration travel right down his arms. "You got it!" He slipped out of the chair and stood, almost falling over. His knees were weak and for some reason his chest hurt a little. When he looked back, Tai was picking himself off the floor. He'd stumbled to his backside.

"A-are you okay?" Tai asked, winded. "Mike?"

Mike nodded. He reckoned he was still hurt - the tiger hadn't been gentle at all with him, and Darron had punched him very hard too. "Now to get out of this room." He looked down at the sturdy circles of metal around his wrists. "Wait, maybe on the thing..."

He quickly searched the trolley, upending a few of the items on its tray. Some of it was regular household equipment. Gardening implements, tools... it made Mike's blood run cold just to look at it all.

They had to get out of here.

"What are you doing?" The tawny kit was busy looking around, evidently trying to figure out what to do next and trying to catch his breath.

"Looking to see if they left a key." He hissed in disappointment, trying to shift the tight cuffs still pinching his wrists. "Guess not. Ow."

Tai was frowning at the rusted grille of the air duct. "That..." he pointed.

"Huh?" Mike shook his head. "No way... we couldn't fit. It's just too small."

"We're not gonna go through it..." The shirtless fox-boy picked up the bolt-cutters and tried to lift them with his shaking paws. "Is this heavy for you?"

Baffled, Mike took it. "Yeah... kinda..."

"Can you throw it at the grate? Or whatever it is? Hard?"

"Uh, I can try..."

Tai nodded, pushing the trolley quietly towards the grille. "After, run behind the door..." He jogged over to the spot on the side of the door he had in mind. "Here. We'll make a break for it!"

Mike looked unconvinced. "We're gonna pull the old 'hide behind the door' trick?!" he asked, shaking his head. This wasn't going to work. They'd be caught before they even got out of the room.

"Is there anything better?" Tai asked reasonably. Their voices were hushed; someone could be right next to the door, listening in already for all they knew.

"No... I guess not. But we don't even know how many are out there! We could run right into twenty of them."

"I know! Throw it anyway!"

Gritting his sharp teeth, Mike swung the massive tool around and heaved it over his shoulders at the grille. It hurtled through the air, and Mike actually felt disappointed at his throw. The oversized bolt-cutters were shockingly heavy, and his best efforts had only made it sort of tumble through the air in a manner best described as 'reluctantly.'

Regardless, when it struck the grille, the noise was incredible. It was almost explosive, resounding up the air duct, each echo louder than the last.

The duct-covering was torn from the wall and thrown backwards into the duct itself, and the bolt-cutters fell to the trolley below with a loud bang. Mike saw Tai let loose a silent "yes!" as he was making his way to join the smaller kit behind the door. They both ducked down by the trolley Tai had placed there.

It took a few moments, but the door suddenly rattled and was shoved open. It smashed right into the heavy trolley and barely moved. A few of the more precariously placed tools fell noisily off the top tray. A leopard in a long-sleeved white shirt and black pants grunted and pushed at the door again, finally able to squeeze through a small gap. He didn't look behind the door or trolley, for his eyes alighted immediately on the smashed open air-duct on the far wall, and the trolley beneath it.

"What the fuck?!" he gasped in dismay, running over to it. "No fuckin' way!"

Incredulously, he spun around. The room was empty.

They must've... no way! It may've looked too small for them to sneak through, but then he knew he was no expert when it came to kits. Maybe they weren't as big as he remembered. They must've...

"Shit!" he blurted, dashing back to the small desk with the tiny television out in the cold corridor, where he'd been stationed to guard the storage room.

When he got there, he froze up. His cell-phone was no longer resting on the corner of his rusty desk. What kind of time was it for him to have lost his god-damn phone?!

The leopard paused.

He couldn't have lost his phone. He was using it just before the crashing sound. It had been on the desk. He was sure of it.

A sinking feeling came upon him.

It wasn't possible. No way.

The leopard knew he could never live this down - he had just been fooled by a pair of children.

Even worse: they had used the old "hide behind the door" trick on him.

And it had worked.

They were in a warehouse. Hundreds of stacked boxes, cardboard and wooden, stacked high or nestled on heavy load-bearing shelves, towered far over their heads.

"I can't believe that worked!" gasped Mike, feeling oddly ecstatic as they slinked along, trying to keep their footfalls light and quiet on the dirty concrete.

Tai was truly amazing, he realized. The trolley barricading the door, combined with the distraction of the damaged grille... the adult had immediately jumped to the conclusion that they'd escaped that way and didn't look around properly when he entered the room. Tai had gambled on his reactions, and it paid off. They had totally outsmarted an adult.

"Where are we?" Tai whispered as they crept along, his angular ears perked and glancing around nervously. "I smell seawater."

"I think we're at the docks." Mike pressed his back up to a crate and peeked around it. "At least, I hope so. The alternatives would really suck."

"Like what?"

"Like, a ship in the middle of the ocean. Though I guess there'd be more metal if it was... I dunno." Mike shivered. If he was wrong, they were screwed. The New York docks they could escape from, but not a ship. He was a confident swimmer, but there was a limit.

The warehouse was large but cramped, and the high walls were constructed of dull, pock-marked concrete. Though it was a huge, rectangular building with no internal walls, the dozens of metal shelves, some roughly fifteen feet high and filled with heavy crates and sealed boxes, essentially created neatly laid out aisles, almost like a massive grocery store. It was through these aisles they crept, looking for a way out.

As they thought, they had been in a storage room towards the back, a few corridors away from what seemed to be an office. Thankfully, the office had been empty and their one guard had been left back in their makeshift cell. Their luck was holding: the door into the corridors had been lockable via deadbolt from the inside of the warehouse, probably to keep burglars from breaking into the office and moving freely into the warehouse or storerooms. Mike made sure to employ it. Their supposed jailor had been locked in, without any way of calling for help.

As yet, they hadn't encountered another soul. Soft voices were echoing throughout the warehouse however, and there was clearly some activity. Fluorescent lights on the ceiling were turned on. They were not alone.

Not far from them there was a metal staircase up against the dirty wall. It led to the walkways above, and at the first landing was a promising sight. A door.

A thick, red fire door nearly twenty feet up and along the walkway.

"Is that the way out?" Tai asked hopefully.

Mike bit his lip. "C'mon..." He snuck forwards. "Look, Tai. The docks are a big place. We've got a ways to go I think before we're out. Gimme the phone? We'll use it when we're out of here. They might hear us otherwise."

"Alright. I'll follow you." Tai withdrew the small plastic object they'd prudently filched from the table in front of their cell and gave it to Mike, who pocketed it without breaking stride.

The tawny kit sighed quietly. He was more than happy to relinquish leadership, so to speak, to the older boy.

Mike stopped at the steps. "Damn..." he said quietly, looking around. There didn't seem to be an alternative; at least not one he could see, and he didn't want to move any closer to those muffled voices. "Let's go! Crouch down!"

They mounted the stairs quickly, crouching low.

Shaking from the cool air that blew over his shirtless body, Tai took the time to look over the warehouse warily. Between the tall aisles and in clearings here and there, roughly a dozen furs were quietly moving closed crates, or appraising the contents of ones they'd pried open. The kit still couldn't make out what was in any of the containers, but at least the adults were focusing on their jobs rather than looking at the fire escapes. Occasionally, they'd stop to chat with one another. He saw at least one forklift and several loaded pallet-jacks between some of the shelves.

It was an odd scene, Tai thought. Some of them were quite well dressed, suits and everything, businesslike, but others looked like common dock-workers - similar to the workers and fishermen he saw often in Alaska. The crates they were opening were not very big, made from thick slats of sturdy wood, and they seemed to be looking for specific ones, taking them towards the center of the warehouse on those jacks.

At this distance, it was hard to see, but Tai spotted a few small red ribbons on the crates they were selecting. He had to wonder what was in all of them.

Mike shoved at the door, and it opened a few inches, but he was thrust backwards and nearly thrown under the high hand-rails when the incredibly heavy door's springs forced it closed again - knocking his small body away like a pillow. "Shit!" he squeaked, catching the railing.

The yellow-painted strip of metal clanged noisily when he did. Resounding along its entire length. A few heads snapped up from their jobs in the warehouse. The kits' hearts froze: they were in full view of at least several of the suspicious grownups.

"Holy-!" one of them yelled. "Stop them! Hey!"

Mike cursed again. "C'mon!" he cried at Tai, slamming right into the door again. This time he managed to open it enough for them both to squeeze through, and he and Tai burst out onto a metal platform and into the cool darkness of night.

They were on a noisy steel walkway that encircled the warehouse. Tai quickly looked around and realized they were now about twenty feet off the ground, on a fire-escape - a metal walkway that was essentially an extension of the stairs they had climbed, wrapped around the outer wall of the warehouse.

He saw immediately that Mike wasn't kidding about the sheer size of the docks. They were in the middle of a huge industrial complex, and off to one side Tai could see nothing but rippling, murky water that stretched on and on to the misty horizon. There were other warehouses, huge shipping containers of sturdy metal, trucks, expanses of dull concrete and hundreds of bright floodlights on lofty poles... he couldn't even see any hint of the edge of the complex with the many enormous buildings blocking his view.

"Oh, crap!" he whined, gripping the handrail. "How are we gonna get out of here?!"

"Tai! Come on! Don't stop!" Mike bolted along the walkway. Tai could hear many heavy paws coming up the stairs on the other side of the fire door, and he quickly took off after the older kit. The warehouse was quite long and it took them twenty seconds of flat out running just to reach the end of the walkway.

They hurried down some more stairs, naturally made of more noisily clanging metal, until they jumped the last few steps and landed on concrete. Tai almost tripped, stumbling to his hands and knees with a panicked scream.

"Come on!" Mike yelped, accelerating away as Tai struggled back to his paws. "Keep moving!"

They could hear some furs taking chase along the walkway and crying out to one another. Neither of the kits could bear to look behind. The many footfalls were getting louder, closer, as the adults started to close the gap already.

With their breath rasping loudly in their ears, Mike and Tai sprinted along the slightly wet concrete, unsure exactly where their frantic running was taking them. This section of the docks was steeped in impenetrable darkness, and all around them seemed to be concrete, metal and the black and gray nothingness of the night sky, stretching out forever in front of them as they made their way to the water's edge. The rushing sound of the murky water and restless wind that howled in their ears as they ran was almost drowning out the cries of the adults chasing after them.

"This way!" Mike gasped, turning and sprinting down the side of yet another warehouse that abutted the waterfront. Not more than a few feet away, just beside a half-open, massive shutter-door that looked to be the building's main entrance, was a small concrete jetty that extended into the water about a dozen paces or so. Mike led them to the very end of it and stopped. "We- we'll have to swim!" he said urgently. "If we keep running, they-they'll catch us eventually! We'll lose them this way!"

Tai skidded unsteadily to a halt on the wet concrete, his throat burning from deeply inhaling the frigid night air over and over. He looked in horror at the expanse of water before him.

Churning waves of seemingly endless black waters, upon which several large vessels floated lifelessly several hundred meters away. The depth of the freezing water was indeterminate, obscured by the darkness of night, with the sky above was heavy with ominous clouds...

Panic boiled up within him, suddenly making him nauseous and dizzy. The tawny pup backed away from the edge involuntarily and shook his head. "I- I can't!" His voice shriveled to become almost inaudible and his knees nearly gave. "I can't swim!"

"Wh-what?!" screeched Mike, looking frightened himself. "Yeah you can! It's just water, Tai! We have to!" He cast a look back down the pier. "It'll be too late if we don't jump soon!"

Tai let out a despairing cry, looking back as well. Their pursuers would soon be rounding the warehouse.

If he had been in his right mind, he might have done differently, for better or even worse, but as it was he knew he couldn't jump into that water.

So, he turned to Mike with a wild and terrified expression. "You go! Go!" he yelled, and he shoved the bigger cub. Hard.

Mike was taken by surprise, confused by Tai's behavior, and the push took him right off his paws. He fell the few feet into the water with a yelp of alarm, though he pulled himself quickly into the right position to tread the cold water. "Tai?!"

What the hell was he doing?!

The pup had turned and dashed back down the pier - their hunters bearing down on him. Tai was fast, especially for his age, but a shadowy, grown-up figure intercepted him just as he reached the bottom of the little jetty.

However, Tai jumped to cut the corner, leaping several feet over the drop, and the adult made a wild swiping grab for him, taken aback by the pup's sudden change of direction. The big adult's shoes slipped on the soaking concrete. With a sharp scream, he smacked his head on the rough concrete, and fell down what Tai had leapt over to splash lifelessly into the water.

Withholding oxygen from his lungs, Mike could barely see Tai avoid another pursuer with his astonishing agility and dash into the open warehouse. His tail trailing in the air behind him.

Others followed him, plunging into the dark building after the kit. Tai was distracting them from following Mike. Deliberately or not, he couldn't tell. It was also possible they hadn't spotted Mike falling into the water in the darkness.

A horrified gasp later, Mike reached into his pocket and tore out the stolen phone, pressing a button on it. The keypad lit up, but the display was indecipherable-- water damaged. Was it working? He sobbed as he looked at it, tiny and plastic in his paw, feeling betrayed. The cub had to bite back a keening wail of despair.

Now wasn't the time for this. The grownups should have heard the splash as he fell into the water, so they would look here soon! Panting, he looked around, trying to think where to go next. He spotting what appeared to be some kind of drain in the side of the concrete bank. Peering into the murky water, he saw the latticed bars on it didn't extend the entire way down... maybe some kind of safety precaution in case someone was caught in the drain, he didn't know. It looked like a place to hide.

He struck out towards it, diving under the metal barrier to come up the other side, shaking his head to get the foul harbor water off his face. It was warmer there, which wasn't saying much at all. He was already starting to shiver. Even still, it was far better than staying out in the cold, rushing winds.

The cell phone in his paws was soaked to pieces, unsurprisingly. But he had to try. Dogged denial made him stab at the keys, twice having to hit the cancel key because he was unsure what the heck he'd pressed since the screen was a watery, unreadable mess. His paws were shaking and he couldn't remember the number... it kept dancing on the tip of his tongue, slipping all over the surface of his brain, so to speak. He'd never needed to call it that much...

In his panic, he didn't even consider the simplistic '911' number.

At last he thought he got it keyed in. He pressed the plastic thing to his ear, and strained to hear.

It was ringing! The sound was horribly far away and distorted, but it was ringing!!

Robert sat inertly in the overly-warm office alone, dumbfounded and horrified. Outside jabbering analysts and other assorted workers toiled easily at their humming computers.

The news had come to him even as he was in the middle of the 'meeting.' He'd been pleading to be allowed to take custody of Eraline's child, and for her savings to be released to a trust fund for him. Robert had a dark suspicion that the C.I.A. had direct access to the late vixen's accounts, and would probably also be withholding her life insurance from the kit if he didn't intervene. Or rather... convince them to have a heart. He also had a suspicion that they were going to use it to coerce him to give the tawny boy up for adoption, probably somewhere far away. That was something he wouldn't do, couldn't do, even if they ordered him. He'd quit faster than he'd drop a live snake.

It had been going well... until the phone call. His phone rang in the middle of his plea. He had almost collapsed.

Robert could not even speak to the police about the matter, he'd been told. The risk of him folding to ransom demands was too high, they said. The cops were talking to one of Robert's colleagues, rather than to the father of the kidnapped kits himself. They'd asked him to sit alone in an empty, stifling office and let others deal with it. It was such a fucking travesty.

His cell phone buzzed to life in his jacket, but he ignored it for the longest time. Well over a minute. Whoever it was could go fuck themselves.

However, then the fox actually yelped and clawed at his chest pocket for the device. What the hell was he doing?! He ripped it out of the pocket, and sure enough, the number was not one he recognized. Swallowing painfully, he pressed the answer key and raised the phone to his ear...

"Y-yes?" he said, his mouth flooding with the metallic taste of trepidation.

The voice on the phone was not what he expected. It was... it sounded as if it was underwater and very, very far away, interrupted by hissing and crackling, but it was a voice he knew.

"-ad! Dad!" it buzzed weakly.

"Mike?!" Robert gasped in incredulity, shooting to his feet, His ears stiffened on his head like flags caught in the wind. "Mike! Are you alright? Where are you?!"

The response was nothing but hissing and droning for a moment, and he felt his heart stop dead. Then... "...Water in the phone! Can't ksshhzz_ear you! Help! Please, Tai ran _akshkkk--! ... trying to kill us! Brrrzzhhsshhhnnhh..."

The fox looked helplessly at the phone. The call was still connected, but it was descending into that incomprehensible hissing again. "Mike! Where are you? You have to tell me where you are, okay?" No response. Robert swallowed again. "Listen, Mike, if you can hear me, do not hang up! Don't hang up!"

A door was in his way, but not for long. The six-foot fox slammed it open and bore down upon a young operator like an inexorable steam train, thrusting his phone right at her. "Can you find out where this call is coming from?" he demanded. His manner seemed more appropriate to a death threat than a request. "It's a cell phone. Where is it?! Exactly where?"

The operator, a young female rabbit with austere, shoulder-length head-fur, looked baffled and scared for a second. "Uh, um, y-yes, I think so, maybe," she said, cringing away.

"Then do it! Please!! Trust me, it's justified!"

She nodded timidly and took the phone from him, thoughtfully pausing to put it on loudspeaker. The phone just hummed noisily. "I'll try to, but..." She peered at the screen first, then hastily scribbled a few things on a piece of paper, and then started to work quickly on her computer, bringing up programs and entering commands with incredible speed. "Hold on, it's very easy to get the general area from the exchange, but it'll take a minute or so to get the GPS..."

"Thank you!" Robert breathed explosively, leaning heavily on the operator's desk. "Thank you! Shit, Mike, don't hang up! Do you hear me? Hold on..."

... To be continued.

By Kichigai Kitsune.

Copyright Kichigai Kitsune 2011.