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I got soul but I'm not a soldier

(The Killers)

---

Why did my house have the loudest front door in the history of ever? Try as I might to be stealthy, the relentless squeeeeee of the flimsy door hindered my efforts. It probably didn't matter anyway--Dad would be in a drunken stupor after a busy Saturday night of saturating himself with distilled ethanol products of all varieties.

"Get over here, boy," came a growl from the living room.

Shit. How had I forgotten about my father and his terrifyingly sensitive hearing? I shuffled into the living room, flicking on the light as I entered. My father recoiled in the light like a godsdamn vampire.

"Turn that off,"

I complied hastily, mostly because I didn't want to have to look at him in the full light any longer. His eyes were bloodshot and he was still wearing the same ratty, stained wife-beater and jeans he'd put on at the beginning of the week. I was struck by the sudden urge to laugh derisively at the fact that my father was following every part of the Trailer Trash Bible so religiously, but was too terrified to act on it.

"Where were you last night?" Dad's tone was gravelly and guttural.

"Out,"

"Come here,"

I took another step, now standing halfway across the room from the couch and raccoon. He glared blearily over at me as I stood still, arms folded across my chest.

"Don't bullshit me, son. I said come here,"

I shook my head very slightly. The raccoon suddenly launched into action, hurtling towards me. Before I could react, he had me by the ear, gripping and twisting as he dragged me back to the couch. Jerking my head down next to his face, Dad didn't let go.

"Ow! Stop! That hurts!" I squawked, trying and failing to pry my father's hand free of my sensitive ear.

"I ought to skin you. You don't just walk out for an entire night. Your mother would not shut up about it," his breath washed over me, rank with stale beer.

I cried out as he rammed my head into the wooden frame that composed the back of the couch. Lashing back desperately, I slashed my hand across Dad's face. He grunted as I scratched him viciously, loosening his grip enough for me to scramble free.

I bolted toward the door, but the raccoon was too fast. For a fat, lazy sack of shit, he could move when he really wanted.

I saw stars as my father grabbed me by the neck, slamming me headfirst into the wall. His foot came down hard on the tip of my tail. Letting out a strangled cry, I wrenched my father's hand away, holding him back with every ounce of strength I could muster.

"Stop! Please, stop," I sobbed, sinking to the floor and nursing my throbbing tail. "I'm sorry I went out,"

I flinched, half expecting to be struck again. But nothing happened. I looked up, shrinking against the wall. Dad was just standing there, breathing heavily and glowering.

"You had better be sorry, boy,"

I blinked, panting as I sat there, crumpled.

Wait a minute. I wasn't sorry. I didn't deserve any of this. I never had. My blind fear was hastily replaced with seething rage. Getting to my feet, I jabbed my forefinger into the center of the raccoon's chest.

"Actually, I'm not sorry. Not at all. I went out. I had fun with a person I really enjoy spending time with. And yeah, I was gone all night. I'm sorry I broke curfew, but I can take care of myself,"

A strangled growling sound came out of my father's throat, but I wasn't done. Hell, I was on a roll. Everything that had been building up inside me, all the rage, all the frustration, came bursting out--he had dared to take the best day of my life and utterly ruin it. I was done taking it.

"I got drunk. Probably had a bit too much. Which _you_have plenty of experience with, Dad. But it was fun.

"And you know what? I had sex. It was an amazing thing to share with a person I love dearly. A bit awkward. But amazing. She's 90 godsdamn feet tall, but I don't care. I love her so much anyway. More than anything. More than you,"

It was true. I'd realized that on the way home--it was a really long trip without a bike, so I'd had plenty of time to think. Sure, Tabitha had scared me with some of the stuff she'd done. I wasn't exactly thrilled about the broken bike, either. But I certainly couldn't bring myself to hate her for it. If I were that large, trying to learn how to live in a doll-sized world, I'd probably mess things up on occasion, too. Most of the things that had happened were honest mistakes. It wasn't like I was entirely innocent, either--I'd encouraged her to smash that gazebo, after all.

To my surprise, Dad hadn't reacted yet. He just stood there, eyes bulging, making gurgling noises. I'd half-expected to receive at least a minor concussion by this point in my rant. Seizing the chance, I barreled recklessly onward.

"Last night was more fun than anything I've ever experienced in a long time. That's what being young is really about. Building relationships with others and starting to grow up and maybe even making some mistakes. I haven't gotten to do any of that. No. I've been too busy cleaning up after you and putting up with to your shit and getting hurt by you. I... I hate you,"

Shaking violently, I drew back my hand from my father's chest. I couldn't decide whether I felt vindicated or horribly empty. Without anything else to say, I turned around and strode out of the room and out of the house. No looking back. I needed to be alone.

My legs carried me almost subconsciously to Haverford Park. I loved that collection of trees, playground equipment, and park benches more dearly than anything. It was somewhere to get away from everything when the going got rough and try to put things into perspective.

I sat on my favorite bench in the shade of an old oak, studying my hands intently. There was no way in hell I could go back. Dad had hurt me before and I'd walked out my fair share of times. Nothing new to that. But I'd always gone groveling back after an afternoon or so. I'd never held out more than a day. No more of that. I was done. I only had a few months left before graduation and I was 18 years old. I was so fucking done.

But what could I do? It wasn't like I could just go rent an apartment or stay in a motel. No cash flow, to say the least. Maybe Tabitha's parents would take me in. Just a temporary thing for a few months until I could sort myself out. I could help out around the house; I was good at chores and cooking and stuff.

Wiping my eyes on my sleeve, I contemplated how to go about my next steps. I was really terrible at asking for things (I didn't deserve anything, so why should I ask for it?), much less something so major. They already had a very large daughter to provide for, after all. That couldn't be easy in and of itself. I didn't want to be the straw that broke the camel's back.

"What's up, shithead?"

My heart skipped a beat. I had been so absorbed in my thoughts that I had barely noticed Shane walk up beside me.

*****

Ignoring my parents' offers of lunch, I stayed in my room all day. I lay in bed as the hours dragged by, memorizing every detail of the ceiling and tormenting myself with mental replays of Ciaran walking out. I'd handled it all so badly. Things had been going really well with him. But could I keep it that way? Of course not!

By mid-afternoon, lying there like a sack of self-loathing potatoes was too unbearable. Wanting to make good with Ciaran and not able to wait until Monday to do so, I slunk away from my house and headed out. I could usually find Ciaran at Haverford Park if I wanted to see him; he seemed to spend more time there than anywhere else.

When I came around behind the playground to find Ciaran, he was there, all right. But he certainly wasn't alone. A burly husky and somewhat chunky-looking hyena had my boyfriend pressed up against the bench. While the husky restrained Ciaran, the hyena appeared to be rifling through his wallet. Doug and Shane. You couldn't get away from that pair.

"What do we have here?" I asked, squatting down.

The duo noticed my presence and tried to beat it, but it was too late for those poor saps. I snatched one up in each fist, lifting them rapidly up toward my face. Doug appeared a little green around the gills. I grinned wickedly, squeezing them slightly. By that point, I'd, er, handled Ciaran enough I knew more or less how much their stupid little bodies could take before I broke anything. This drew a couple of pained grunts from the bullies.

"Is that how you treat others?" I hissed. "Does it make you feel good? Powerful?"

"We'll give him back the wallet! Honest! Just stop!" Shane replied, panicked.

My thumb pressed against the center of his chest, drawing a yelp out of the bastard.

"That's not enough," I continued, my tone venomous. "See, I _am_more powerful than you. Bet you don't like being on the other side of the situation, do you? I could just keep squeezing until you popped like grapes. Douchy, abusive grapes. Mm. Speaking of grapes, I didn't have lunch. Hmm, I wonder if you'd give me indigestion,"

The duo clutched in my fists was petrified in fear. The hyena was sobbing and the husky was just staring vacantly into space. But I wasn't done yet. I was furious. How _dare_someone treat my dear Ciaran like that?

"A girl has other needs, too, you know. I could just have my way with you, your every struggle just fueling my pleasure more. Is that how beating up Ciaran feels for you?"

I felt a dull sensation in my ankle. Glancing down, I noticed Ciaran was standing by my foot, wailing away on my anklebone with his backpack.

"Stop that! Stop that now!" Ciaran shouted with his brow furrowed.

Pursing my lips slightly, I gave my captives a final parting squeeze before depositing them none-too-gently in the upper branches of the oak tree. They could have fun getting down from there on their own.

Standing again, I scooped up my boyfriend. I turned my back on the park and began to make my way towards Ciaran's house.

"You're welcome," I said. "What was going on with those two?"

"Excuse me? What the fuck has gotten into you?" Ciaran bellowed. He paced back and forth along the groove in my palm, stewing.

"They were about to beat the shit out of you! I wanted to help," I insisted.

"That wasn't helping, Tab. That was you acting like a monster,"

Taken aback, I came to a halt, staring the mink in my cupped palm. "You--what--what do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean. You threatened to eat them, Tab. That's not you. That's not... normal. Hell, you haven't been acting normally since that party. Since we--"

I blushed. "I was just trying to scare them. I didn't mean anything by it. I swear. It's just--"

Ciaran wasn't done. "Then you picked me up without asking permission first. I'm your boyfriend, not your property,"

"I'm sorry. I was just angry. It's not fair for you to be treated that way," I whimpered, shaking my head.

"And wait a moment. Wait just a moment. You threatened to use Sean and Blake as sex toys. Is that all I am to you? Some sort of walking, talking vibrator? Does it count as cheating if a giantess stops using one boy as some sort of glorified sex-toy and starts using a _different_one? I can't believe I'm even having this sort of conversation," Ciaran was livid. "Put me DOWN!"

"N-no! That's not what I meant! I was... I don't know what I was thinking. I shouldn't have said that. I'm so sorry. I love you. Fuck, I love you,"

I leaned in to kiss Ciaran, but he bit my lower lip savagely. Stunned, I leaned over and set him on the ground. He stood there stiffly, staring up at me in barely-controlled rage.

"I was capable of dealing with those two myself," he insisted. "Stop acting like I have no control over my own life. Because I have so much fucking control over my life. So much.

"If this is going to work, you need to treat me like an equal, not some sort of plaything. Where were you even taking me?"

"Is getting the snot beaten out of you your idea of 'dealing with it'?" I folded my arms across my chest, regarding him dismissively from a height. "And I was taking you home. Figured that was where you'd want to go,"

Ciaran cried out in despair. "No! I can't go there. Never. Tab, why would you _do_that? I need to get away... oh gods,"

What had happened at home? It didn't take a degree in rocket science to know things weren't exactly stellar for Ciaran there, but I hadn't ever seen him that distraught about it. I tried to respond, but Ciaran scoffed bitterly.

"I love you. But sometimes, you just need to... piss off,"

I dropped heavily onto my knees, causing Ciaran to stagger backwards a pace or two. His eyes widened, jaw slightly agape. I leaned down, scowling at the mink.

"What was that again?" I asked.

"I think you heard me, Tab," Ciaran replied, trying to control his wavering tone. "I just don't want you to do that again,"

"I thought you wanted me to support you. But if you want me to just stand by and let you get the crap kicked out of you, fine," I was on all fours by then, the tip of my nose inches away from Ciaran's face.

"That wasn't support, Tab. That was you being a sadistic, bitchy bully. You're... unstable. And you're scaring me. Maybe this whole relationship thing wasn't such a good idea. Maybe we should--"

The tip of my index finger made contact with Ciaran's torso, hard. The wind was knocked from his lungs and he flew a dozen feet or so through the air to collide with a low brick wall along the sidewalk. There was a dull crack and he slumped to the ground limply.

"Oh, shit. Oh, shitshitshit," I gasped, coming out of the hazy fog of rage that had enveloped me moments before.

Fuck. I'd _flicked_him. What had I been thinking? Well, I hadn't been; that was pretty obvious.

Reaching out, I cupped Ciaran's limp body in my palm. His eyes were unfocused and he wasn't moving. Shit. I needed to get Ciaran help, fast.

My sprint to the hospital was a blur of angst and tears. I was vaguely aware of people diving out of the way and cars swerving into the wrong lanes to avoid me as I ran, but was too distracted and scared to really give a damn.

The ER entrance was a bustle of frenzied action when I arrived. Shoving aside a parked ambulance, I lay down on my stomach in the lot. Thrusting my arm through the automatic sliding doors, I brandished the unconscious Ciaran in front of a surprised front desk nurse.

"Please help him," I gasped, tapping my finger against the desk emphatically. "I... flicked him. He's barely breathing. Oh, gods. Please,"

"We'll take it from here," the still somewhat dazed raccoon replied. "Just, er, set him here,"

I let the mink's body slide gently off my palm as a nurse wheeled over a stretcher. Ciaran was loaded onto it and bustled off further into the hospital.

Withdrawing my arm, I sat down, leaning my back up against the building. I hugged my knees to my chest, sobbing softly. My eyes screwed tightly shut, I rocked back and forth.

Please let him be okay, I thought. I don't care if he hates me forever and never wants to see me again. Just don't let him be hurt too badly.

The hours dragged by at the pace of a snail trying to navigate a floor covered in molasses. The sun slowly set and the streetlamps flickered on one by one. I remained rooted in place, unwilling to go anywhere until I knew Ciaran would be okay. Shit, I really hoped he would be fine. What if he wasn't? What if I was a murderer? How would I live with mysel--

"Miss?" came a voice from down by my hip.

Sniffling slightly, I looked down to see the nurse from earlier standing next to me. I rubbed my eyes.

"Is everything okay with Ciaran?" I mumbled.

"He's got a few broken ribs and sustained moderate pulmonary contusion, but managed to avoid anything too serious and is in stable condition. He's resting now," the raccoon said.

"Can I see him?" I asked, sighing in relief. An enormous weight lifted off my chest.

"Well, I don't know if that would work out... Logistics, you know,"

I giggled softly. "Yeah, I guess you're right,"

"He's on the fourth floor. Second window from the left. Over there," the nurse pointed out.

I smiled appreciatively, turning around so I was kneeling before the hospital. I peered through the proper window, a wave of relief passing over me as I saw the mink lying in the bed, which was facing toward the window. He was awake, and his eyes widened when he noticed me.

I held up my hand to speak, but Ciaran motioned for the nurse to close the drapes.

"Wait--wait, I'm sorry," I mumbled as the drapes were drawn. "Please, just let me apolo...gize,"

There was no movement on the other side of the drapes for a few minutes. I wanted to smash the window open, pull Ciaran out, and magically make his ribs better and undo all of the events of the past afternoon. I had no reason to expect Ciaran to give me the time of day, but I wasn't prepared for it actually happening. Trying to be in a relationship with someone I could seriously injure just by flicking was a mistake, I thought glumly_. I should just go home. Mom and Dad couldn't hate me. They'd know what to do. _

Getting to my feet, I turned away from the hospital and began to make my way home, hands thrust into pockets. It had been raining for the past while, but I had been too distracted to notice. Now uncomfortably aware of my sodden clothes, I picked up the pace.

*****

Working in my division of MX4, I was pretty used to all sorts of stuff that might be considered 'shady' by some. Okay, by most. But _this_shit was seriously clandestine, even for me.

Taking another sip of my coffee, I glanced at my watch. If this 'inside man' didn't show up in half an hour, I was leaving this godsforsaken alley behind forever. I was all for doing my brother Roger a favor now and again, but this was ridiculous. I mean, couldn't this person he wanted me to meet show up to a coffee shop or something? And why couldn't he do the meet-up? This guy had some 'splaining to do.

"Warren Smith?"

I nearly dropped my coffee in surprise. A coyote of about my age stood under the flickering amber glow of the streetlamp, dressed in a dark trench coat. Damn. He'd officially checked off all the cloak-and-dagger boxes.

"Yeah... that's me," I didn't even know his name.

"I'm Ernest Dwyer," the coyote extended his hand, smiling thinly. "Gods, you look just like your brother,"

"It's part of that whole 'twin' thing. But he's the evil one, I assure you. Er, can you explain to me what I'm doing here?" I cut right to the chase.

Ernest nodded, producing a thick file from within his coat. It had all sorts of red stamps on it: Confidential, _Eyes Only... _ The works. Damn. This wasn't Little League shit.

"I have something that might be of interest to you. No, it will be of interest to you," the coyote said.

I glanced through the file. Whatever this was all about, it looked juicy. "Okay, you have my attention. But why would you go to my brother?"

"Roger? Well, his boyfriend is my tailor. And a very chatty one at that. I heard about your position with the agency and felt you'd be the best person to go to,"

My brow furrowed. "For what?"

Ernest shifted nervously. "I've worked at the Bureau of Defense for the past six years. Recruited right out of college. But what my section has been working on... it's unethical. To say the least.

"I can't go to anyone in the Bureau. It's insane how many mindless yes-men there are there. No thinking. No questioning. Just following. But this has to stop,"

I frowned. "What makes you think I can do anything about anything? What's even happening?"

Ernest was getting antsy, hands in pockets. "I can't really say anything right now. But there's something that you can do right now. You need to. Please. A girl by the name of Tabitha Crane. She's in danger. You need to make sure nothing terrible happens to her,"

The name sounded familiar. Roger had just mentioned some sort of trip over to eastern Pacifica to visit some sort of gigantic ferret-girl by that name, if memory served. What on earth was happening?

"What does the Bureau of Defense have to do with her?" I scratched my head. Someone needed to start connecting the dots. "I mean, if memory serves, she's big. Like really big. Giant. Wouldn't that be more of a MACRO thing, rather than BoD's jurisdiction?"

I chuckled inwardly, just then realizing how unfortunate their acronym was. A bit slow on the uptake, I suppose.

"I can't go into too much detail right now, but suffice it to say, there are certain individuals at Bureau who have a vested interest in her. I've had my ear to the ground, and I know the gears are moving; they're about to act. We have a satellite facility near Winthrop that makes me concerned. Please. I don't want anyone to be harmed because of what we're doing,"

I pursed my lips. "But what _are_you doing?"

"Just promise me you'll help her, and quick," Ernest was avoiding eye contact.

My eyes narrowed. That certainly wasn't an answer. Much as I didn't like sticking my neck out for someone I didn't know anything about, Ernest seemed very, well, earnest.

"Fine. I'll do it. But you owe me an explanation when this is all done,"

"We'll get lunch or something,"

"Beats the hell out of another meeting in the alley like this,"

Where do I get the tax write-off for being an all-around agreeable, awesome guy who puts his tail on the line for other folks?

Earnest nodded, shaking my hand fervently. I shook my head, smiling thinly as he hurried back down the alley. Stuffing the file into my briefcase, I made my own way back to my car. Looked like I'd be making a trip to scenic Winthrop. And I'd have some reading for the road, too, it seemed.

*****

My mind raced a million miles a second as I hustled homeward. How could I make things right with Ciaran? Maybe Mom and Dad could let him stay with us if his situation wasn't too good for him back at his house. They were always talking about that extra room they had no purpose for, and we could just carve his food out of my daily allotment. Yeah, that was a good idea. I would talk with them as soon as I got back.

A confused frown crossed my brow as I came up to the front lawn of my house. There was a strange car parked in the driveway. I was just about to head around back to my room when a badger I'd never seen before exited the front door, pursued closely by my father. A burly wolverine, my dad could be quite formidable when angry.

"Get the hell off my property and never come anywhere near my daughter!" he snarled, following the badger to his van.

Confused, I came to a halt, looking down at my dad. "Wait, what? What's going on? Who's he?"

Dad glanced up at me, hurriedly waving me aside. "Honey, why don't you go to your room? Mom has dinner ready if you want it,"

I arched my brow in confusion, but nodded numbly. My father was not to be messed with when he was in one of those moods. And judging by his disposition, the badger was about to find that out. Not that it mattered all that much, as it turned out.

There was a flurry of movement around my ankles. I glanced down in confusion to see just as my Mom let out a cry and started to rush over toward me. There were a couple of people dressed in black, similar to the wolverine. I made to step free of them, whatever it was they were up to. Too late.

Suddenly, I became acutely aware of a sharp pain in my calf. Everything suddenly went out of focus and I staggered forward a step or two. I felt lightheaded and my extremities were starting to go numb.

"Fuck--" I slurred, trying to sit down. Unable to control my movements, I crashed forward as the world went black.