FSE

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"It was like a train wreck. I couldn't look away." Every time someone says that, I remember the one time I did see a wreck.

It was a quiet morning, out in the countryside. Some old rabbit had stalled out her even older jalopy on the tracks. She bustled around the engine, tapping tubes and peering in over the rim of her glasses. There was no place for me to be, so I turned the key, rolled down my window, felt the sun on my ears and the wind on my whiskers, and waited, in case she wanted to ask for help.

It was such a quiet morning. You wouldn't think anything could go wrong.

Michael stood anxiously outside his car, looking up at the big suburban home in front of him. The otter's tail thumped against the front tire.

"We should get inside," Abby said, one hand resting against his wrist. "Everyone will be waiting. They must have seen the headlights."

"Yeah," Michael said. But he didn't move.

The other otter did her best to hide a grin, her eyes lingering on the cross hanging under his collar. "If only the congregation could see you now..." Her words fell on deaf ears. Michael only swallowed and kept staring up at the house. "He'll be proud of you," she said reassuringly. "I know he will." She stepped up onto the curb with a sense of finality.

Michael had to hurry to catch up to her, as she was already walking crisply up the path to the door, her dress billowing in the crisp wind. She waited for Michael to come up beside her to knock on the door. He took a deep breath, straightened his collar out of habit, and kocked.

Pounding footsteps came from inside and then the door swung wide. A heavily-muscled cougar in a leather jacket and grease-stained shirt grinned out the door. He gave a laugh when he saw who it was and leaned his weight against the frame. "Well, well, if it isn't Michael the angel."

The otter sighed and rolled his eyes. "Michael is still supposed to be an archangel, Corbin."

The cougar's shoulders rolled in a languid shrug. "You aren't much of either really, and who is this?" He eyed up Abby with more curiosity than interest.

"My wife." Had Corbin really never seen her, he wondered. "Abby, meet Corbin."

"I suppose it figures you'd be the type to have a housewife," the cougar said.

"Actually, I'm a nurse. I probably work more hours than he does." She held out a hand, her smile never wavering. "I've heard a lot about you too."

The cougar lifted one eyebrow to Michael. He shook the hand perfunctorily and stepped out of the way to let Michael and Abby in.

In the living room, two foxes sat on the couch, holding hands. One, a grey fox, stood up and hugged Michael as he entered. "Oh, Michael, it's good to see you," he said.

"You too, little Renaldo," the otter said. He looked from the other fox, a fennec, on the couch, to his wife. "Introductions? This is Abby."

Renaldo grinned happily and gave her a kiss on the cheek and then turned to the couch, taking the hand of the fennec sitting there. "This is my husband, Wahid."

The fennec got unsteadily to his feet and extended a hand. His motions were crisp and formal. "It is a pleasure to meet you both."

Michael's and Abby's jaws dropped. Wahid was more lithe and skinny than anyone in the room, but his voice was an octave lower than anyone else as well.

"Amazing, isn't he?" Renaldo said with a gleeful smile. "He used to sing opera."

Wahid cleared his throat and sat back down, quietly saying, "Used to."

Renaldo scratched his neck. "Anyway, it's been a while since we talked, so I don't know if you've heard: we work for the UN now. We're hoping someday we might be able to be legally married in his country as well as ours."

Michael felt ashamed to admit he hadn't heard. The otter patted the fox's shoulder. "It's good to see you. But, uh, where's Jack?"

"Right here."

Michael spun around. Jack stood in the entryway to the dining room, standing with a cane that Michael could not remember seeing before and rubbing at his shoulder as if it bothered him. Jack was an old coyote now, showing his age in greying, thinning patches of fur around his muzzle. Michael said nothing, but walked up and wrapped the coyote in a big hug. He rarely hugged anyone these days, besides Abby of course, but right then and right there it felt right.

Jack gave a soft hug of his own and petted the light fuzz atop Michael's head. "God be with you, you heathen priest," he said with a grin.

"And with you, you old papist." Michael laughed.

Jack patted the otter's shoulder. "Oh, I missed you. You two are staying the night, yes? I made sure the bed in your old room was cleaned and made. You can sleep there."

"It'll be just like old times," the otter said.

Renaldo took a seat next to the fennec, hand in hand. "Hopefully not too much," he said, his voice just above a whisper.

* * *

I called out to the rabbit once or twice, to see if she needed any help with her car, but all I got was a wave over her shoulder as if it were just the tiniest problem and she would be on her way at any moment. A car or two came past us; one honked.

And that's when I felt something was starting to go wrong. I heard a sound, way off in the distance. Might have been a car horn, but it was too low, too long. I shrugged off the feeling of concern.

Corbin climbed up the stairs, dragging his feet a little out of laziness. The house was huge, practically gaudy by the standards the cougar grew up with: there were four bedrooms upstairs and two bathrooms, although all of them were a touch on the small side. He flicked his ears as he heard the voices of the two otters coming from the end of the hall.

An idea to just barge in whipped through his mind, but he put it aside and knocked.

Abby opened the door. "Oh, hello, Corbin."

"Hey." He sauntered in, shut the door behind him, and dropped his voice. "So you know what the hell is going on with this shindig, bro?"

Michael made a face at the swear but shrugged. "What makes you think I know any more than you?"

"Jack always liked you best."

"Wonder why."

Corbin let himself growl for just a moment, before squashing the sound. "So you're saying you don't know?"

"No, not a clue." Michael picked out a suit and tie from his bag and hung it in the closet. "Why?"

"Because it's weird." Corbin gnawed on a lip. "Renaldo and what's-his-name--"

"Wahid," Abby supplied.

"Yeah, them. They don't get much vacation. Or much money. It's a big deal to get them to come across country. And you're far enough out you had to drive most of the day. Why get us all together? Jack wouldn't have asked if it weren't important. And why just the three of us? There were dozens of kids who came through here." He lifted an eyebrow at Abby. "You do know what this place was, right?"

She nodded. "A college home for LGBT youth, paid for out of Jack's inheritance."

Michael pulled out one of Abby's dresses from their luggage and hung it up as well. "Have you taken a close look downstairs? I know Jack kept pictures of everyone who's been here, but we're the only ones whose pictures he hangs on the wall. Jack had plenty of tenants, but we're the only ones who he ever treated like family."

Corbin snorted. "We certainly fought like a family."

"I never fought."

"Bullshit," Corbin said and leaned back so hard his shoulders thumped the wall. "Just because you chose to moralize and berate us, doesn't mean you weren't a part of the fight."

Michael's fist slammed against the dresser, loud enough to make even Corbin jump. "Can we not?" He seemed surprised by the forcefulness of his own words and quieted his tone. "Can we not get into this for one night? This is supposed to be for Jack."

After a moment of not saying anything, the cougar nodded. "Yeah. For Jack."

There was a long pause after that, until Abby had worked up enough courage to raise her voice. "So what is Jack to you?" she asked, looking at Corbin.

The cougar crossed his arms and lifted an eyebrow.

Abby flushed a touch in her short ears. "I've heard him talk about Jack so much. They met shortly after his father died, and Jack always acted like a surrogate father. Was it like that for you too?"

Corbin nodded. "He's a hell of a lot better than the father I got at birth. That asshole found out I was gay and kicked me out. I actually spent a few months here before college, finishing up high school."

"And Renaldo?"

"The kid's an orphan." He pawed at his shirt where his cigarettes would be and remembered he was inside, at Jack's, and let his hand fall away. "He bounced between a whole lot of foster homes. Good places, but never really home for him, until he came here."

"So you really are a family then."

Corbin's ears turned. There was a shuffling out in the hall, and he held a finger to his lips to shush Michael and Abby. A moment later Renaldo himself walked in. "Everything okay in here?" he asked cautiously, ears high. "I thought I heard something fall."

Corbin stood and shook his head. "It was nothing, kid." He pointed to Michael. "The angel tipped over his bag and it hit the ground. Don't worry your pretty little head about it."

The fox glared at the cougar and turned to Michael. "You sure?"

"Don't worry about it," the otter said.

"Fine," he said. "Nothing's changed, I see." And he stalked back into the hall.

* * *

I called out again, asked if she needed me to jumpstart her battery.

No, she said.

Need a tool of some kind, I asked. I don't live far away.

No, she said again.

And then that sound, louder this time. This time I couldn't deny what it was. A train was coming. I called out, told her to get off the tracks. She looked up, panicked, and jumped back into the car, trying to get the engine running.

Renaldo stomped down the stairs.

"Something wrong, my heart?" Wahid asked. He stood up suddenly as he saw Renaldo come down, but almost as soon as he did, his hand flew to his forehead and he winced.

Renaldo jumped down the last few steps and flew to his side, holding the smaller fennec against himself. "It's nothing."

Wahid gave him a look from under his hand.

"No. It really is nothing. They're being...themselves, I guess. And you?"

"Better than this morning, my heart. I am not sick. I am just not--as you say--above my form."

"On top of your form," the fox said. Renaldo kissed him on the forehead, held him close, enjoyed the warm touch of his husband's tongue on his neck.

"Wahid," Jack called from another room. "Can you come here and give me a hand?"

Renaldo held the fennec's hand as they walked into the kitchen, where Jack had the preparations for dinner strewn about. Pots and pans were stacked beside the sink; vegetables, still in their plastic bags from the grocery, were set out along the counter; and the air was filled with the rich scent of a sauce simmering on the stove. Jack pointed to a cutting board. "I hope you are good with onions. I need to work on this chicken a bit more."

Wahid gave a wry smile and moved to the cutting board. Renaldo felt his heart warm: the coyote always knew how to make everyone feel wanted, and what Wahid needed, more than anything else these days, was to feel useful. The fox took a seat at the bar across from his husband.

The coyote dredged another chicken breast in flour and spices. "Do you sing while you cook, Wahid?"

"Sometimes."

"Well, if the urge strikes you, I'd love to hear something."

Wahid's ears were perked, and a few slices into the onion, he started to sing, low and sonorous.

Jack winked at Renaldo. "I keep a watch for you," he said, after working on dinner another minute.

"What?"

Jack tilted his head over his shoulder, towards the TV in the living room. "Every time there's a big speech at the UN. I turn it on, but muted. I keep hoping I'll see you two in the background."

Renaldo chuckled and shook his head. "We don't work on the floor."

"Don't take an old man's dreams away from him."

"You're not old."

Jack took a deep breath, his hands paused hovering above the countertop. "I'm old, Renaldo. But you two, you two are young, and in love, and it makes me so happy to see you two doing good in the world."

As the coyote washed his hands after working with the chicken, Renaldo felt himself blush. "I'm sorry I haven't visited more."

Jack dried his hands on a towel. "It's all right. You're busy off saving the world."

"But I should have called more."

Jack gave a soft smile and a tilt of his head, as if to say yes but without having to say it aloud.

"Has Michael not been by?"

Jack shook his head.

"Corbin?"

The coyote shrugged lightly. "At times. He's busy."

"He lives on the other side of town," Renaldo said, exasperated. At least he had an excuse. Michael too. But Corbin?

"Yes, he does," Jack said, his voice quieter, but saying it aloud this time. Then he shook himself and opened the fridge. "But I'm proud of all of you. You and Wahid at the UN. Michael and Anna and their church. Corbin with his shop. You all went off into the world and did great things--oh no!" Jack clapped a hand to his forehead and stared dumbly into the fridge. "The beer. I forgot the beer. I haven't been drinking myself since, well..."

"I can go get some," Renaldo said, hopping off his chair and giving a kiss to Wahid. "Is the corner mart still there? It's just a couple blocks. I could use the walk before dinner."

The rest of the guests started to filter into the kitchen. "I hear there's no beer," Corbin said.

"Of course you'd be worried," Michael said.

Renaldo pointed for the door. "I'm going right now."

"The corner mart?" Corbin grinned. "I'll tag along. Haven't been there in ages."

Jack edged over to the window. "You'd better hurry. It looks like it might rain soon."

"No worries." Renaldo waved back at everyone. "We won't be long."

* * *

I got out of the car and ran up behind her vehicle. What was it you were supposed to do? Put it in neutral, I shouted. But she either didn't hear or didn't pay any attention. She was turning the key and slamming her foot on the gas, the engine coughing and sputtering, but never catching, never budging.

I heard the train again. I could see it now, a shadow pushing through the trees. But, at a guess, they couldn't see us. They weren't slowing down. It was going to hit.

The rain came sooner than anyone had expected.

Renaldo and Corbin had beer in their arms, a block from the corner mart, when the rain started pelting down in buckets. Corbin handed his six-pack to Renaldo and pulled off his jacket, holding it over them both as they dived for cover under the rear awning of a long abandoned pizza place. Renaldo set the beer down on a dust-covered chair and shook himself, while Corbin, now shirtless, stretched.

Corbin noticed the foxes' eyes lingering on his chest. The cougar had kept himself in good shape. He knew he was a looker still. "Like what you see, kid?" he asked, flexing a little as his tail swished behind him.

"For the hundredth time, I'm not a kid, you dick." The fox turned away.

"You're the youngest of us three," Corbin teased.

"Yeah, and I've also got a steady job with some of the most powerful people on the planet while you still live paycheck to paycheck."

Corbin worked his jaw and spat out into the rain. It didn't show any sign of slowing, and everywhere he looked, it was dark. Cars driving past had their headlights on.

"Hey, Corbin."

The cougar gave a non-committal grunt.

"Was the only reason why you never flirted with me because of Jack?"

The cougar's tail flicked three times in quick succession. "What?"

"You know, because of us all being like one big family. It made things a little...awkward between us."

Corbin rested back against the rusting iron railing. "Yeah, a little. But that wasn't it."

"Then what?"

"I try never to share the same roof with someone I've fucked. Makes things difficult."

Renaldo let out a laugh and pulled out a chair, dusting it once with his tail before falling into it.

This time it was Corbin's turn to eye up the fox. It had been years, yes, but Renaldo still looked like he was in his twenties, outside for a few graying tips in his fur. And he still had that inherent vulpine spriteliness to him. "You think if I had flirted with you more, you might be with me instead of..." He paused for a fraction of a moment, wanting to make sure he got the name right this time. "Wahid?"

Both of those big ears cupped towards him, his expression a little surprised. But he shook his head. "Like you said, you wouldn't have wanted to share a roof with me. And I like someone I can hold at the end of the day."

"I'd have been a hell of a fling though."

"Yeah."

Corbin took a step forward, resting his hip against the edge of the table in front of Renaldo, his naked chest turned to him. "Still could be."

Renaldo sat back, staring up at the cougar with a gaze that was impossible to read. Then he shrugged, reached into his pocket, and pulled out--to Corbin's surprise--a condom. The fox turned it over a few times in his hand. "Don't suppose you'd ever bottom?"

The cougar grinned. "Tried it once, believe it or not. Wasn't my thing."

Renaldo shrugged and tossed the condom up to him, and he started to tug it open as Renaldo got up and fumbled with his belt. "Let's make it quick. Before the rain ends."

"I love it when you talk dirty like that," Corbin said. He was already half-stiff from the thought of a good, quick fuck. It took only a little coaxing to get himself out of his sheath, and the condom rolled down nice and tight. All-species, he noted, and pre-lubed too. The fox came prepared.

When he looked up, he was surprised to see Renaldo already with his pants around his ankles, his shirt held up by his lifted tail, and grinning seductively over his shoulder. Corbin was glad for the seclusion this spot provided. No one came back here, and the empty parking lot was surrounded by a high brick wall. He stepped out of his own remaining clothes and pressed in against Renaldo's backside. He could feel the heat of the fox through the rubber and it made his shaft surge with need.

He pulled back, readjusted, and pushed slowly forward. But not in.

"Fuck, you're tight," Corbin said. He ground his tip against that hole and got a moan from the fox.

"Been... awhile..." Renaldo panted out.

Corbin bit back some bad joke about married life. Now wasn't the time. Now was the time to fuck. He held Renaldo's fluff-covered hips tight and pushed forward relentlessly, spearing him on his length.

The fox made a mute protestation and then just gave in, a low groan escaping him instead. Corbin could see the fox's short, thick length poking out. It hadn't been just a moment ago. Oh yeah, Corbin still had it. "Ready?" he breathed into the fox's ears.

The fox adjusted himself, and his hips slid a little forward and back in a way that made stars pop in Corbin's eyes. "Ready."

Corbin started slow, easing himself out and then back in, the same way he had first entered. Those long, forcible, penetrating thrusts dragged out another moan, and a quiet whisper to go faster. Corbin obliged.

Surrounded by the muffling sheets of rain and the windows so dark they might as well be walls, Corbin could almost believe they were in a private room. As his hips slapped forward, he ran his fingers through the soft fur along Renaldo's hips, and remembered all those times when the two of them had bumped into each other in the hall--one or the other of them half-undressed--the appreciative looks that passed between them that were never acted on.

He snarled and pushed forward, feeling a long-awaited need finally being met. Renaldo's hips made pleasing jostling movements as the fox stroked himself in time with the thrusts. Foxes--Corbin had never known any other species capable of it--had always had some way of squeezing him just right when he was inside of them: Corbin could already feel the tugging sensations in his balls heralding climax. His stamina, it seemed, had not kept up as well as his looks.

Corbin bit his lip, the pain pulling him back from the edge. Renaldo must have felt that something was wrong because his head tilted to the side and he smirked. "That all you got?"

Corbin growled, pinned the fox's shoulders to the wall, and started thrusting as hard as he could, using every ounce of his strength to make the fox really feel it. Renaldo moaned and then started to squeak and gasp each time Corbin hilted his entire length inside him. Corbin felt the light sting on his hips where they slapped against Renaldo's and the protestation in his sac from being banged back and forth so much, but the pleasure was another thing entirely, overwhelming all else.

It was primal, atavistic. One hard cock. One tight, warm hole.

Every time after he pushed in, Renaldo would clench just before he pulled back out, squeezing his entire length. Corbin almost didn't want to pull out ever again, but he did just so he could push deep again.

Corbin saw that Renaldo's hands were against the wall. He grinned and reached around to grab that short fox shaft, humping into him hard and fast while grinding his rough pawpads over the canid knot. It was as if electricity surged through the fox: he shivered from head to toe, his fur stood on end, he clenched quick and hard around Corbin's shaft, and after a few shuddering humps, his shaft twitched and spurted in the cougar's grasp.

Corbin gave a quick chuckle and thrust a few more times, no longer caring about holding himself back. He groaned as the pleasure shot up his body and felt the slightly off-putting feeling of the condom holding back the sticky fluids. After a moment of just savoring the post-orgasmic bliss, he slipped out, and tossed the condom into a nearby trashcan.

"That was nice," Renaldo said, pulling up his pants.

"Maybe we should do it again sometime."

The fox looked at him out of the corner of his eyes. "Maybe."

Another voice boomed around the side of the building. "Are you two quite finished?"

Corbin sauntered to the side rail after getting himself properly dressed again. A bolt of thunder illuminated the face of Michael, glowering in the rain. The otter held one umbrella over his head, another tucked under an arm. "Well, hey there, angel. How'd you find us?"

"Not many places out of the rain between Jack's and the corner mart." Renaldo came to the rail and Michael shoved the umbrella into his hands. "Get home," the otter said.

The fox popped the umbrella open and slipped out into the rain, head kept low.

"And be sure to clean off so Wahid doesn't smell anything," Michael shouted angrily after him, causing Renaldo to break into a run.

Corbin dressed himself slowly and every now and then checked to see if Michael was watching him, but the otter's head was always turned away. The cougar slid his jacket on, gave a shrug, and went to walk past.

"Asshole."

Corbin whirled around in the rain, his jaw slack. And then the cougar started to laugh so hard he shook. "Unbelievable," he said. "Fucking unbelievable. That is the first time I have ever heard you swear. You know half the one-night stands I had so that we could bang the bed against your wall and try and get you riled up. Four years of that, and you never swore once. Why now?" He threw up his hands. "Tell me, oh priestly one, what brought it out today?"

Michael didn't look up at him. He stayed there, smoldering gaze staring out from under his umbrella. "I remember a lot of kids staying with you over the years. I thought they needed it: a chance to see that not every good-looking guy was good for them. But I never thought you'd be stupid enough to treat someone who truly loved you that way too." He shoved his umbrella into Corbin's grip and then stalked off, the rain seeming to never touch his slick, oily fur.

Corbin stood, dumbstruck, watching the otter's form recede into the blackness of night and rain. Then he snorted, drew himself up, and walked after him.

* * *

After I ran back into my car, it took me a moment to realize that the rabbit hadn't left hers. She was still trying to get it to go. The train horn was blaring loud. There was a nails-on-chalkboard sound of the brake being applied. But it wouldn't stop them in time. They'd crash.

"Isn't it nice to have everyone back for dinner again?" Jack said, but there was silence around the table. The rain outside was joined by a distant rumble of thunder. Michael, Corbin, and Renaldo were all scowling, Wahid and Abby were looking on worriedly, and even Jack couldn't manage to bring a smile to his face.

The food was passed around the table in silence and everyone took their portion before setting the plates back down. Wahid tried to make conversation about how good the mashed potatoes were, but it died out after Jack mentioned that the secret was a touch of buttermilk. Jack had more success asking Abby about being a nurse, and what all that involved and whether she worked at a hospital or a doctor's office.

Corbin threw down his fork with a clatter against his plate. "Why don't you just say it?"

What are you doing, I thought.

Michael shot him a glance. "I don't want to say anything."

"Oh no, I'm sure. You're going to wait until you get back to your room so you can titter to your wife about what horrible sinners we all are."

"Corbin, please," Jack said. The coyote's voice was weak, his muzzle drooped low with a frown.

"Come on, Jack. We're all adults here now. We're mature, most of us at least." The cougar sneered at the pair of otters. "So why not come out and say it: I fucked Renaldo, and damn well too."

Abby and Jack were fixed on their plate as if trying to ignore what had just been said, Jack seeming to whisper a small prayer under his breath. Wahid had slunk back into his chair, staring at nothing.

"There, see?" The cougar snatched up his knife and fork and started to slice into the chicken again. "That's the mature way to handle things. You next, Michael. Go on, say what's on your mind."

It's coming. You have to see it's coming. It's going to crash.

Michael shot a look to Jack, who gave him a pleading look in response.

"Come on, this is what adults do. Talk through our issues instead of bottling it up inside."

"Fine." He hacked off a bite of chicken, ate it, and swallowed. "I can't believe that you would take advantage of Renaldo like that. We're supposed to be family here."

"Take advantage of me?" Renaldo's voice raised to an almost shriek-like pitch. He muttered a few choice curse words in Arabic and then said, "I am not a kid, Michael. I made my own decisions. He didn't take advantage of me. He didn't seduce me. I. Wanted. Him."

Get out. Just get out. Make a run for it.

Michael stared at the fox. "Then I can't believe you were that stupid." He winced as Abby's elbow buried into his side.

"Stupid? How? Not living up to your perfect ideal for me?"

"Did you tell him about Wahid first?"

Renaldo was on his feet in an instant. "That is none of your goddamn business!"

"Renaldo!" Jack quailed. "Do not take the Lord's name in vain under my roof."

"Fuck that shit." His gaze bored into the otter. "I said my husband is none of your goddamn business."

Too late now. There was no time left. It's going to hit, and she's going to be in the car.

"It's Corbin's business now too," Michael said.

The cougar lifted an eyebrow. "What's my business?"

"Wahid is poz."

The cougar's eyes went as wide as dinnerplates. Renaldo hung his head in his hands and Wahid... Wahid was curled up in his seat, looking as if he wanted to be a thousand miles from here.

"Wait, he's poz?" Corbin looked frantic still and he spoke to Renaldo. "Are you poz too? Oh God, am I?"

"No, no," Renaldo moaned. "That's not how it works."

As the three argued, Jack pushed his chair back from the table. "I can't stand it when they fight," he muttered to himself, although Abby suspected the words were half for her. "I'm not feeling well. Going to take an aspirin." And he walked past her, rubbing a painful spot on his chest.

There was nothing I could do. Nothing but wait, and watch it happen.

"So this is how it is now?" Renaldo continued. "It wasn't enough that you had to scare off every boyfriend who ever came around here, now you're digging into my husband's past?"

Michael's palm hit his face and he slumped back into his chair. "I searched his name and profession. The first hit was his Wikipedia page--you said he sang opera; you didn't say he was famous--and it nicely detailed how he fled to America after his status outed him."

"You still Googled. My. Husband."

Corbin banged his hand against the table. "He wouldn't have had to if you'd told me everything."

"There's nothing to tell. I'm tested. I'm clean. His status is none of your fucking business."

One last blare of the horn. For a moment, time seemed frozen. I could see, in perfect clarity, the old rabbit's hands gripping the steering wheel as if it were the last thing she had on this earth.

"Fucking irresponsible kid."

"You're one to talk. You slept around so much it's a miracle you never got poz yourself."

"Corbin wasn't the one who acted irresponsibly tonight, Renaldo."

"Yeah, well, I never expected to live up to your standards, you stuck-up twit."

"I cannot believe I ever thought of you two as my brothers."

"Good! Because I can't believe I would ever have been your brother."

"Jerk."

"Asshole."

"Fucking pious son of a bitch."

And then...

CRASH!

As one, five heads turned to the kitchen. They couldn't see anything of Jack but for his hand, sprawled out on the floor, a shattered glass next to it.

Chaos erupted.

Renaldo screamed. Abby pushed out of her seat and ran for the unconscious coyote, Michael a half-step behind.

Corbin shoved past both of them and cupped the coyote's muzzle in his hands, his eyes wide with terror. "Jack? Answer me. Jack!"

"He's not breathing. Michael, call 911."

"Jack, please!"

"Michael, 911, now. I'm not getting a pulse either. "

Renaldo buried his head in Wahid's chest, whimpering.

"Jack! Jack!"

"Michael, now!"

"He's not--is he?"

"Cardiac arrest. 911, NOW!"

Wahid sang low, a lullaby, as he rocked Renaldo in his arms.

"Jack, wake up!"

"1845 Edwin Street. We need an ambulance. There's been a heart attack."

"Corbin, you've got to stop shaking him. I've got to administer CPR."

But the cougar didn't stop, his voice an unearthly wail, calling out over and over again, "Jack! Jack! Jaaaaaack!"

* * *

Your typical car might top out at around two tons. A train? Maybe four-thousand tons.

A train going nearly full speed will barely slow down when it hits a car. And that train, it picked up that car and dragged it along the tracks like a broom pushing an errant dust bunny. Then, the car was shoved off the side of the tracks, tumbling onto its side, onto its roof, then the other side. The side of the car that had been hit had folded like some macabre origami, and I couldn't see the old rabbit anymore.

The entire time, I had my arms around my chest, holding myself in horror.

The brakes finally slowed the train. At that point, it must have travelled an extra quarter mile past the intersection. I couldn't see anything. I couldn't move. I couldn't even cry and my eyes were hurting from how badly I wanted to.

"Wahid, I think he's coming around," Abby said. "Go get Renaldo."

The little fennec jumped out of his seat and sped out of the hospital room. Michael moved to stand next to the bed, his arms around Abby, while Corbin stayed, holding onto Jack's limp hand as he sat at the edge of the bed, just as he had almost the entire time since they arrived.

Renaldo came in, wiping the snot from his nose and the tears from his eyes, just in time to see Jack groan and stretch a little.

The coyote's eyes slipped open. He looked around at the five people around him, at where he was. His throat started to work, and he said, in a voice so quiet they all had to strain forward to hear it, "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"It's okay," Corbin said. He lifted the coyote's hand, placed a kiss on it, and smoothed out the fur around the IV, repeating the same words several times over.

Abby reached out and gently touched his shoulder. "You went into cardiac arrest, but we helped you through. You'll need a bit more rest before you can go home, the doctors said, but you should be able to go home. They think it was stress-induced." She took a look around the room, but neither Corbin, Michael, nor Renaldo would meet her gaze. "You'll be okay."

"Will I?" he said, his throat working again. "Do you--"

"We know," Michael said. "This wasn't quite the way we all wanted to learn you had us listed as next of kin and gave us joint medical power of attourney." He remembered being so shocked when the hospital said it would be fine to stay with him, that they counted as family. "They also showed us your medical record."

Jack slowly shifted his head to the side, staring out the window, avoiding everyone.

"You are going to fight it, aren't you?" Renaldo said, wiping his nose again. "You're going to go on chemo right away, right?"

A small nod from the coyote's muzzle. "But," he said, "they only give me fifty-fifty odds of survival at six months."

Renaldo gave a sharp cry of rage and kicked the side of a nearby chair. Wahid went to hold him.

"That's why you wanted us all to come back, wasn't it?" Michael asked. "To break the news to us together?"

Jack's head turned back to the otter. "No. Because, if things did not go well, I wanted one last happy--" His throat worked again, swallowing down a sob. "--one last happy dinner with my family again, before it was over."

For a while, there was silence. Abby and Michael held hands. Corbin held Jack's hand and quietly soothed it. Renaldo had his hands on his face, crying, as Wahid held him.

Jack shifted, trying to raise his head higher. "Michael, I know I have never asked for a favor from your station before..."

Michael shook his head. "I'm not sure I would be comfortable doing an anointing of the sick, even barring having a protestant perform a catholic rite. I can call St. Andrews if you need."

"I was thinking confession, actually."

"I..."

"Please, Michael." He sat up a little more. "I want it to be you."

Michael looked to Abby, who only nudged his hip and said, "Go on. This is why you got into this business, `To be there for those who have no one else,'" she said, quoting himself, many years ago. "Don't stop now."

The otter gave a solemn nod. "Corbin, everyone, can we have some space?"

Corbin looked up, surprised, and reluctantly let go of Jack's hand. He took a step away, closer to Renaldo and Wahid, and all three were joined by Abby. Michael pulled a chair around to sit beside the hospital bed.

Jack's hand, free from Corbin's touch, lifted slowly, then dropped back down. Jack grunted and tried to lift it again, then eventually he gave up and used his other hand to touch his forehead, chest, and both shoulders. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," he said slowly. "It has been three months since my last confession."

Michael had studied the rites of other faiths before, in case of such an event. But now it all failed him. He mumbled something about the Lord's presence in his heart and on his lips, not remembering if that was Catholic or not, but if Jack minded at all about the deviance from form, he did not show it.

"I have sinned many times in the last three months. I lusted after men who were married. I skipped Mass several times. After I received my diagnosis, I cursed at God all day, and I was angry with him for far longer than that.

"But my greatest sin I have been committing for many years: pride. For so long, I have opened my house to those in need, to those who wanted a safe place to call home without being judged, and I did it because I believed it was God's will it should be done. But one year, I invited three young men into my home, all of whom had lost their own family in one way or another. I wanted so badly for them to have a new family, here, with me, and a place that they could call home. But more than that, I wanted to be a father. I wanted to have boys of my own. And because I was so busy trying to get something for myself, I--" Here his throat gave out. He let loose a ragged, heaving breath, tears making their way down his cheeks, his voice breaking. "--I failed even to give them the family they needed, that they deserved."

Jack paused in his speech and took a moment to compose his voice. "For these and all other sins, I am truly sorry."

There was a long pause, and Jack quietly asked, "Am I forgiven, Father?"

"No," Michael said, surprising everyone in the room. "No, this is all wrong." He pushed the chair aside suddenly and got down on his knees, performing the sign of the cross awkwardly himself. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," he said, insistently. He did not give Jack even a moment to respond or interrupt. "It has been... well, never, since my last confession.

"I have been an utter fool this last day. I made my wife so angry that she hit me, several times, and she's never done that before. I think it was deserved, every painful bit of it." He glanced up to Corbin and Renaldo, who were staring back at him. "I treated my brothers with disrespect. I raised my voice in anger, when I should have offered a hand in love. I spoke out of spite...maybe even jealousy. I dishonored a man I barely knew, because I didn't trust my brothers enough. They mean the world to me, and I was foolish enough to think that I knew what they needed more than they did.

"And worst of all, I broke a commandment and failed to honor my parents." He reached out and held Jack's hand just as Corbin had a moment ago. "Do I have your forgiveness?"

But Jack again had no chance to respond again, as Corbin dropped to his knees beside Michael and said, "Forgive me, Father."

Renaldo bent down on Michael's other side. "Forgive me too, Father."

Jack, eyes shimmering with the remains of tears, smiled and did his best to reach out and encircle all three of them in his arms. "Of course, I forgive you. All of you."

Renaldo nuzzled into the coyote's cheek. "We'll always be there for you when you need us, Jack, just like you've always been there for us." He lifted his head and looked back at the otter and cougar still in the embrace. "And we'll always be there for each other too, when it counts."

Corbin gripped the fox's shoulder so tightly his claws pierced the clothes. "If you ever..." He had to take a deep breath as the emotions made him shake. "If you ever get cancer, your little fennec is going to have to beat the two of us to a pulp to keep us away."

After another moment of holding the trio of unlikely brothers close, the coyote began to laugh. The laughter grew and grew until he was tapping his thighs, unable, sick as he was, to manage a full slap.

"What is it?" Renaldo asked.

Abby just giggled. "I think he just realized that, if he followed the typical confession, he could tell a protestant, an atheist, and a Muslim-by-marriage to go recite ten Hail Mary's."

Even Corbin laughed at that.

"You know," Michael said, getting to his feet, "since we're all coming clean with one another, perhaps it's time for one more announcement." He went up to Abby and took her hand, and she nodded. "I thought dinner would have been a good time, but oh well."

He straightened, gave an ahem, and proudly said, "Jack, you're going to be a grandfather."

If any of them had ever seen a happier look than the one on Jack's face at that moment, none of them could think of what it was.

* * *

That's when I saw her. Some ferret, she hopped down out of a passenger car right next to the crash. She had a phone in one hand, shouting into it, shouting to other passengers or the engineers or the conductors, getting things done, taking care of things. She ran to the car. I think she was talking with the old rabbit inside, who somehow managed to survive with no more than a broken leg and a mild concussion.

While I was still shaking in my car, she was in control. She was going to make sure everyone would be safe. And she did.

Corbin burst through the front door, bellowing inside, "Guess who brought the good stuff!"

"It can't be the good stuff," Jack said, appearing in the entry way to the dining room with a bandana wrapped around his head. "Doctor says I'm not allowed to drink."

"No, the other good stuff: pizza!" He sat down a big box on the coffee table. "Antonio's finest, with extra onions because you need your vegetables."

Jack smiled and limped to the couch, collapsing into it. "Thank you, Corbin." He pulled out a slice onto a paper plate and nibbled on the edge. "You know, the nurses tell me that if you dote on me any more, they're worried you'll smother me to death."

"Ha! And don't I know it: if Michael and Abby keep sending me any more baby pictures, I might die of all the cute."

Jack reached out and touched Corbin's knee. "You do talk about other things, don't you? Just talk, sometimes?"

Corbin finished off his bite and tugged the dangling string of cheese from his lips. "Yeah, I mean not all the time, but we do." He lowered his voice a little, looking away. "I know you're worried about us, but we don't have that much in common; there's not much to talk about unless something big happens for either of us. He can be a good guy though, when he's not busy being a stick in the mud." He glanced at the clock. "Hey, is that the time? We're gonna miss the speech. Renaldo said he wrote at least half of this one himself." He fiddled with the remote, tuning in to the live feed from the UN building.

Jack sat back, taking his bites slowly so as not to upset his stomach. The speech was nice: the usual demands for equal rights in all parts of the world, with an emphasis on how important family, every kind of family, was.

And in the back, far enough in the corner that Jack had to squint to make sure he saw it, there were a gray fox and a fennec, dressed in matching suits, holding hands.

"We turned out all right, didn't we?"

Jack smiled and leaned back into his chair. "Yes, you did. When you aren't busy being sticks in the mud, at least."

Maybe that's why we can't look away when we know the train is coming: not because we want to see the terrible thing happen--we know that it is going to happen--but because we want, we need, to see it be made right.