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*Chapter 19 : *

Stay

Cassidy had just finished showering and getting dressed, making her way to the living room to begin another day of being a lump on the couch between rounds of stuffing her face. It was about all she could manage these days. She was barely even showing, but the pregnancy was taking its toll on her.

She was surprised to find someone else already there. One of the children, sitting on the floor in the middle of the room watching TV with the sound low. From her banded markings it was obviously Clairibelle's daughter, though she hadn't spent enough time with the children to know any of their names. She looked to be somewhere between ten and twelve years old perhaps, but it was always tricky to tell with the changed. They grew so fast that she was probably more like five.

The girl was munching on a big bowl of cereal in soy milk, which Cassidy couldn't help but eye hungrily. The change had freed up a lot of pasture, most of which was now taken up by crops to supplement the loss. As such, products like soy had gotten quite cheap. The farm sold most of the real milk at a premium, save what Muffin needed for her baking, and relied almost entirely on alternatives to feed themselves. Cassidy was considering that now, and found she had to shake her head at herself once she realized she was less curious about the girl's presence than she was about whether she could convince the girl to give up some of her breakfast.

"Good morning." Cassidy said, moving to the couch to crawl into it, tossing the blanket she left there over herself in the process.

"Mmm." The girl replied, finishing her mouthful. She raised another big spoonful up just shy of her lips and added, "Is it okay if I watch cartoons? Penelope won't let us have a TV."

"That's what I was going to do anyway." Cassidy smiled at that. She always changed the channel before her mother came into the room. At least this way she'd have an excuse to keep watching.

"I thought grown ups were supposed to watch news and stuff." The girl said, never breaking eye contact with the screen.

"I used to think that too, but news sucks." Cassidy shrugged, "Too depressing."

The girl nodded, finishing off another big mouthful, "That's why they don't let us have a TV. Lots of people on there don't like us very much."

Cassidy knew that well enough, and it wasn't just the news and opinion shows that were a problem. Changed actors existed, but the bulk of roles available to them seemed to be as villains and criminals. Sometimes as comic relief, but as overblown caricatures of their old animal traits. It was downright racist.

"My mom is doin' it with your mom." It wasn't even a question, as she set her now empty bowl aside. She looked over at Cassidy for the first time, "Which one of them is the boy?"

"I... Don't think it works like that." The question took her a bit by surprise, and she needed a few seconds to figure out how to answer, "Sometimes... Girls like other girls."

"Jasmine is the boy, most of the time." She said matter of factly, turning back to the TV, "Maybe it's different."

"Maybe." Cassidy said quietly. She suddenly realized that it was probably far easier for the girl to get used to their parent's relationship than it had been for her. Muffin and Jasmine had been together most of the time they had been alive, "Are those two... Married, or anything? I never see them apart."

"I wish. I want to be in a wedding." The little girl sighed wistfully, "Maybe our moms will have one."

"Oh god. I can't even imagine my mother in a dress." Cassidy chuckled at the thought. Maybe her mother really was the boy , "What about me and Eli? We could get married someday."

"Nah. I'm going to marry Eli." Again her tone was pure statement of fact. It was a done deal.

"Is that right?" Cassidy asked curiously. Now that she thought about it, he was the only male of their kind that the children knew. Most of them probably had some kind of crush on him, "Guess I have more competition than I thought."

"I'm not old enough though. We can't yet." The girl turned her head to look at Cassidy, giving a little sly grin that looked every bit like her mother's, "You can borrow him until then."

They locked eyes for a few seconds, and it quickly became apparent that Claribelle's sense of humor was a hereditary trait. Cassidy started to laugh, "You actually had me going there for a second."

The door swung open at that, and Megan started making her way inside with Clairibelle right behind. CB made her way over to her daughter, reaching out to ruffle her hair a bit, much to the girl's annoyance.

"Well you didn't waste any time, did you Mimi?" Clairibelle gave Cassidy a quick smile, then spoke to her daughter once more, "And Jasmine is not the boy, dear. She's just a different kind of girl."

"Wait, you heard that?" Cassidy scrunched up her brow, both relieved now that she wouldn't have to admit to not knowing the girl's name, and surprised by what CB had just said, "Were you guys just standing outside the whole time?"

"It's the ears." Mimi started fiddling with her hair, trying to get it back in place, "She hears everything."

Megan made her way towards her daughter, holding out a paper bag. At first Cassidy was a little confused, but then noticed the little drawing on the front of an artfully askew muffin with a heart on it where one could only assume the heart would be located on pastry. Muffins of any kind around here meant one thing, and that was food.

"Oh, thank you mom..." Cassidy snatched the back and started rooting through it, "I thought I was going to die."

Megan smiled at her, but she was more curious about something else, "Your hearing is really that good?"

"No. Not good... Everything." Mimi again, somehow the fussing with her hair had made it look better than before, which Clairibelle regarded with a quick nod of approval, "I dropped my pencil at school once, I half expected her to call and tell me to pick it up."

"Okay, not quite that good." Clairibelle laughed, folding her arms, "But she's only sort of kidding. I'm sure you realize by now that my change wasn't exactly smooth. I ended up with a little mutated tweak or two."

Megan knew what she was referring to. Her hyper-libido certainly wasn't a trait of the standard Belted Galloway. It must have come from something else, and she had actually wondered if it might have been because something went awry during her change, "How good are we talking, though? Like... What can you hear right now?"

"Well, Sophie and Annabelle just came out of the bunkhouse. I can't hear what they're saying, but it sounds like they're enjoying themselves. Muffin is singing in the kitchen, no surprise there. Someone just flushed..." CB paused, letting what everyone else heard as silence fall into the room, "Henry is trimming his beard."

Megan's eyes went wide, but only one question came to mind, "Electric trimmers?"

"Scissors." Clairibelle winked back at Megan, then settled down onto the floor next to her daughter, the both of them criss-cross applesauce style, "What's this one about?"

"Ponies."

Megan shook her head in disbelief, then started to the bedroom to get ready for the morning shift. She was only in her room for a moment before finding herself locked up in a tight hug around the neck from behind.

"I like her, mom." Cassidy said quietly in her ear, "I really do."

Megan smiled, leaning back against her daughter until she felt inclined to let go, then turned to face her, "This is a strange place, isn't it?"

"I know, right?" Cassidy practically buckled at the knees in relief upon hearing it out loud, "I didn't want to be the first to say it!"

Megan laughed a little, turning to pick up her work shirt, "The way things are here... I think if other people could see it, or live like this for a while, maybe they might start to understand. Maybe they might realize how much better the world could be... For everyone."

"Maybe. That would be something." Cassidy thought about that, letting her hands come down to fold over her belly, "Mom... I know you. I know if I said I didn't want this baby, that you would... You..."

Megan turned, a look of concern on her face now, "Cassidy... That decision is for no one to make except you, but I love you, and I..."

"No, mom... I... Maybe if it had just been a regular old mistake with some guy, but..." She lowered her eyes, letting loose with a sigh before going on, "This feels really important. It's..."

There was a long pause, then Megan prompted her, "What is it, honey?"

"It's something I can do for them." She said, looking back up with a misty eyed smile, "If I can have Eli's baby, then it means they're not just... like us. They are us."

A slow smile came across Megan, and she moved forward to take her daughter up in another hug. They stayed that way for a while, locked in a moment of solidarity for the changed friends they had made in the last months. It was powerful. It was poignant.

And then it was broken, as Megan started to giggle.

"And the Nobel Peace Prize for getting knocked up goes to..."

Cassidy instantly started laughing as well, pulling away to start heading back to the meal that it had taken all her willpower to walk away from in the first place, "Okay, if your going to start making jokes like that, then maybe you really are spending too much time with Clairibelle!"

Megan finished getting ready, and made her way back out to the living room and toward the door.

"So it's just ponies? No cows at all?" Claribelle said, leaning back in mock annoyance, "Doesn't anyone on this show have horns?"

Mimi pointed at the screen, "She has a horn."

"Just the one, though. Sticking out of her forehead like a big old pimple." She put her arm around her daughter's shoulders, wagging her finger at the TV now, "That barely makes her half as cool as us."

Mimi started to giggle, "You're such a dork, mom."

"You two are adorable together, by the way." Megan laughed, opening the door to head out, "You coming, CB?"

"In a bit, honey." Claribelle smiled back at her, giving the little girl next to her a tight squeeze, "I'm not done ruining everything she loves yet."

Megan laughed, closing the door behind her as she went. The room fell mostly quiet then. Mother and daughter silently watching the cartoon, while Cassidy had curled back up on the couch and was trying to savor the sandwich that was disappearing far too quickly. After a few minutes, Clairibelle turned. She waited for Cassidy to pause, letting their gazes meet... Then responded to a comment no one else would have ever been able to hear from a room away.

"I like you too."

Just across the lane in the main house Henry stood with scissors in hand, admiring his handiwork in the mirror. It had taken him years to hone his beard trimming skills, and it was a point of pride for him. No errant hairs sticking out. No uneven edges. He nodded at himself as if to acknowledge a job well done, cleaned up the sink, then finished getting dressed and made his way downstairs to make coffee.

The smell of that coffee greeted about halfway however. He was pretty sure he knew why, and it didn't take but a second to find Laika, curled up on the couch in the living room. She had her eyes closed, and her nose practically buried in a fresh mug of the stuff as she took long and deep breaths of the aroma.

"You know..." Henry said, calling over his shoulder as he went into the kitchen to fetch himself a cup, "You can actually drink it, too."

"I just like the smell." Came a somewhat muffled reply once he had returned, "The kind you buy is... So good. We never had good coffee at the..."

She trailed off, and he didn't pursue it further. He had made a few attempts to get her to talk about the Kitty, but she just wasn't willing. At least not yet.

"Well, help yourself. I don't want you to feel like a guest here." Henry took a short sip, finding it cooled enough to be palatable, "Just remember you are always welcome at the farm, no matter what happens down the road."

She opened her eyes at last, lowering her mug a little as sadness came over her, "Conrad... He's not a young man, is he?"

"That's... Not what I was getting at." Henry had wondered about this. Wondered if she really understood the difference in their years, "He seems pretty fit for a man his age, and his mind is still sharp as a tack. He's got a lot of good years left in him, I'd wager."

"Thank you, Mr. Hoyt." She let her eyes close again, taking another deep whiff.

"Please, just call me Henry." It wasn't the first time he'd told her that, and he felt it probably wouldn't be the last, "You don't have to be so formal here, Laika."

She nodded, but said nothing. Henry glanced out the window, noting the thick layer of dew that had formed overnight. The chill of fall had finally set in, it seemed. He took a longer drink from his cup this time, then set it aside to move over to the coat closet to fetch his work jacket.

"It's Millie." She was even quieter this time. He turned to look at her, and she lifted her head to look back, "My name... It's not Laika. It's Millie."

Henry nodded at her. He couldn't help but smile a little. This was as close to progress as he'd seen since she got here.

"Agnes made me call myself that. She said it was more exotic." She went on, turning back to her cup, "They tried to teach me how to talk with a Russian accent, but I couldn't get it right. I couldn't get a lot of things right."

"Some things there's no shame in getting wrong." Henry said, pulling his jacket off the hanger, "I hope you had friends there, at least. It sounded like Charlie and his brothers looked out for you."

"Charlie looked out for me. His brothers are nothing like him." She replied, sneering a little at the thought, "They're not really brothers anyway. They came from a puppy mill, but humans can't tell them apart so they pretend. They think it's funny."

"I can't say I'm not a bit relieved. Charlie is... Actually quite likable. It's better knowing that about him." Henry nodded slowly, then churned a thought for a bit, "You know... Everyone here asks me about you. Ranger seems especially worried. I think it might do him good to have a friend who knows what he's dealing with."

"Maybe." She nodded slowly, letting her eyes close and nose drop down to the rim of the mug again, "He... Wasn't himself with the drugs in him. He hasn't been for a long time."

"He's trying hard to be himself now. We're helping him find a home here." Henry threw on his jacket, but didn't yet move away from the closet. He needed to get going, but wasn't willing to end this conversation just yet. Not when it had taken this long to start one, "About the drugs, though..."

"It was different, from person to person." She said before he could finish. She knew what he was about to ask, "For him it was a reward. She could make him to do stuff he didn't want to by cutting him off."

"For the rest of us, it was punishment." She added quietly, "Behave. Be a good girl. Don't give her a reason to bring the needles, or you'll end up like the others."

Henry felt a fire rise within him, and it was all he could to to stifle it. Seemed nothing had changed. She was still using the poison to force others to do what she wanted, just like she had to the girl that he'd gone to school with, "And how many of those being rewarded and punished never opened their eyes again?"

Her knees came up, as if she was trying to make herself small enough to disappear from view, and Henry felt an instant pang of regret, "I'm sorry. I hope it didn't sound like I was upset with you."

She nodded, barely enough that he could see, "I don't want to talk any more."

He cursed himself internally. Any talk of Agnes tended to upset him, but he'd finally gotten her to open up a little and let his anger shut her down again.

"Alright." He said, moving now to the leave, "I need to get to work anyway. I hope we can talk more later."

He made it as far as the door, turning the handle and taking a single step outside before he heard her voice call after him.

"That woman who was here... Elsie."

Henry turned, watching as she stood to move over and collect his coffee cup from the desk where he'd left it. She never left any mess unattended to. Frankly, if she vanished before he came back it would be almost impossible to tell she'd been there at all.

"She said you left the farm. She wanted to know where you went, but you didn't tell her." She moved quietly into the kitchen, calling back just before stepping out of view, "You should."

Henry felt a cold chill run up his spine, brought on by far more than the cool fall air. From his place at the door he could see the photos lining the stairway, and his eyes couldn't help to drift over to one of the few he'd left up that contained his whole family, and the little girl smiling beside him. A scowl came across his face for the second time time morning. The first had been out of anger, and his deep hatred of the woman who ran the whorehouse that had existed for far too long already. The second was something else. Not hate... Not disgust...

Disappointment.

He turned his head away sharply, closing the door behind him a bit harder than he meant to. Paused...

Then went to work.

Henry spent most of the morning shift lost in the sort of thoughts that tended to swirl around and around without ever coming to a resolution. It got downright quiet once all the girls had washed up and left, leaving the two human workers doing their duty in silence for several long minutes. This wasn't typical. There was almost always something one or the other wanted to talk about, but Megan decided to let him have his peace as they finished the cleaning. Once that was done, Henry nodded silently to himself and started to head out.

"Forgetting something?" Megan asked, arms folded and regarding him curiously.

Henry snapped out of it and turned to look at her. Her heavy heavy work gloves already on in preparation for the task at hand. "Oh right. The truck."

He shook his head, changing direction to head back to the room with the milking machine and cold storage unit. It had a large bay door which was raised and lowered by a long loop of chain that hung from near the ceiling. He undid the padlock holding it in place and went about quickly raising the door up to reveal the truck he had parked there the night before. There had been a late delivery, and now it was loaded with empty tanks that needed to be hauled inside and sorted out. They'd decided to do it the next morning on account of the time.

"Sorry, guess I'm just a little out of sorts today." He said as he dropped the truck bed and hopped up inside, "Finally got my new houseguest to open up a little."

"Well that's something." She smiled, and he found it comforting, "How did it go?"

"About as well as you'd expect, considering what she's been through." He hefted the first tank over to hand it down to her. It was a quick motion. the tanks weren't especially heavy when empty, and he'd learned by now that she was more than capable of holding up her end of the transfer, "I don't think she's spent this much time alone with her thoughts since leaving that place. It's a lot to process."

"I can only imagine." She was now quickly setting the tanks he was pitching her way aside, matching his pace to be ready for the next by the time he'd fetched it, "I never even knew it existed. How the hell is something like that even allowed?"

Henry shook his head, tossing her another tank, "Agnes knows where the bodies are buried, so to speak. If she goes down, a lot of powerful people go down with her."

"Jesus. Just when you think you've heard the worst the world has to offer." Megan had a tidy row of the metal canisters going by now, nice and neat despite their haste, "How long was Laika there for? It must have been years."

"Not sure, though it turns out Laika isn't even her real name." He picked up another, practically tossing it back without really looking, "Probably another way to control her. Take everything she had, even that."

"What is it then?" She asked, moving to start a second row in front of the first now.

"Millie."

The sound startled Henry upright as the last tank he'd pitched bounced off the hard packed dirt, then skipped and rolled a few feet before coming to a stop. Megan never missed. He turned to look back, finding her not even in position now. She was just standing by the ones they'd already unloaded, staring back at him with her eyes wide and as pale as he'd ever seen her.

"Henry..." Her voice cracked a little, "What type of dog did you say she was?"

"I'm not sure if I ever did, but..." He paused, brow furrowed in concern, "Cocker Spaniel."

"Oh no... No no no..." Just like that she was off, a fast walk at first before breaking into a run, "It can't be..."

It had been about an hour since Henry had left, and Millie had been napping on the couch. She was having a hard time sleeping in the room Henry had provided. It was decorated with someone else's things. To her it felt like it was filled with someone else's life. She didn't want to touch anything, almost as if doing so would upset whoever it was that had lived there once upon a time.

Something caused her to stir however. Something she hadn't heard in a long time. She listened for a bit, trying to separate the fog of sleep from reality, then rose off the couch to carefully step over to the window. She pulled the curtain aside just enough to peek through.

Three of the children were out in dirt road between the houses. Laughing.

Gracie was a bit of a tomboy, usually dressed in coveralls and barefoot as often as possible. She had lovely faun colors like her mother Rosie, but a bit more sparse and evenly distributed since her father hadn't been an Ayrshire. Morgan might as well been a clone of her mother Annabelle, wearing jeans and a work shirt with a long braid down her back. Emily stood at least a head taller than the other two. She was going to give her mother Sophie a run for her money one day in terms of size and strength, but she was actually a fairly girly girl. She liked dresses and leggings and pretty shoes, and hanging out with the more boyish children. It wasn't anything improper, but she liked being the girl of the group and hanging out with these two was about as close as it got on the farm.

She regarded them curiously. She watched as Morgan split off from the others to jog off a dozen yards or so, turning and saying something back to them that made them laugh. She had a big leather glove on, which she raised up expectantly...

Millie's breath caught in her throat.

Some of the Changed were so human that a blind man wouldn't be able to tell the difference if they held a conversation. They retained little to nothing of their old instincts, and some of them found it insulting to be treated like they still did. Millie was not one of those changed. She liked being scratched behind the ears. She liked sticking her head out of the window of the car. She was still very much a dog, and the sight of what they had triggered an excitement she hadn't felt in years.

They had a tennis ball.

She watched the two shorter girls toss it back and forth for several minutes, each time feeling the urge chase it almost overwhelm her. Her tail had been docked before she changed. leaving only a small stub that fit easily in the jean shorts she was wearing, but she caught herself waggling her backside as if it was still there. After a bit she let the curtain close, taking a couple steps back from it.

She hadn't felt like this in so long...

Like herself.

Morgan saw her first as she walked nervously towards them, motioning to the others so that soon they were all looking her way. She stopped a few yards from Emily and Gracie. No one said anything for a long moment, and part of her wanted to flee back to the safety of the house.

"I'm Lai... Uh, Millie." She said quietly, looking away with a shy smile, "Can I... Play?"

The girls looked at each other as if having a silent conversation. Everyone knew Millie was here, and everyone had been cautioned regarding her emotional state. They might not have understood all the implications, but the children had been raised right. They were faced with someone who wanted to join them, and they weren't about to say no.

"Here. Use mine." Gracie moved toward her, taking off her baseball glove and offering it to the little dog girl that barely stood any taller than she was.

"No, not like..." Millie felt her bottom start wiggling again in anticipation, "Throw it."

Gracie regarded her curiously for a second or two, then lobbed the ball gently underhand to her.

"No, not like that!" Millie laughed, easily snatching it out of the air and tossing it right back. She then made a motion over her head as if to trace a large arc across the farm, "I mean... Really throw it! Make me go after it!"

The girl nodded, still a little unsure what the purpose of it. She drew her arm back and gave it a good hurl.

Millie dropped low, taking off like a shot after it on all fours. She easily ran it down, straightening up only at the very last moment to snag the ball right out of the air with a dramatic spin before skidding to a stop.

The girls were nothing short of shocked.

"You're so fast! That was amazing!" Emily clapped her hands. She was always quick with a compliment. It was part of why the other girls liked hanging out with her.

Millie jogged the distance back to them, her eyes bright and alive for the first time in what felt like ever. Any nervousness she had felt before was gone. It was every bit as satisfying as she could have wished, and she wanted more. She tossed the ball back to Morgan this time, who had now rejoined her friends.

"Throw it again." She said, smiling wide, "Harder."

Again the ball sailed through the air, and again she was after it. It was natural for her, tracking the arc and the way it lost speed and bent in the wind. She ran past it this time far off to the left, tracing a wide circle back around to meet where it would have landed, snatching it just above the ground and already moving back to the group.

"I never saw anyone move the way you do." Morgan walked over to meet her, taking the ball from her by hand this time, "How do you do that?"

"I don't know. I've just always been good at it." Millie shrugged, lowering her nose a bit shyly, "Throw it harder?"

"Don't think I can." Morgan replied, holding the ball up as Emily came forward, "She can, though."

"I'll give it a try." Even as girly as she was, Emily was still Sophie's daughter. She smiled politely, taking the ball gingerly from her friend's hand, "Are you ready, Millie?"

Millie nodded excitedly as the girl brought her arm back, then quickly shot it forward again. She turned and started off, slowing again as she scanned the sky for any sign of the ball and finding none. It didn't take her long to figure it out, and she looked back to see Emily smiling back at her with the ball still in hand.

"Oh, you suck!" Millie called back through laughter, "I hate when people do that!"

"I'm sorry!" Emily and the other girls were giggling madly, "I had to! I'll do it for real this time!"

Millie only came part of the way back, lowering to one hand as she awaited the throw. She was not disappointed. For one brief second all of the girly girl faded away, and Emily took up a stance worthy of a professional ball player. She let loose with a pitching motion that was much more practiced and perfected than she would have ever let on. Millie took off after it as it sailed over and past her, for a moment questioning whether or not she was going to be able to track this one down. She kicked it in gear, noting the way the fall winds and light weight of the ball slowed it's momentum enough to give her a shot.

It took a leap and a spin, arching her back out to snatch it out of the air. It took a flip, turning her around completely to land upright. It took putting the ball in her mouth, in order to land on all fours and slide to a stop just shy of the main road. It took a lot, but she caught it.

The girls all cheered as she started jogging back toward them. She was laughing as well at how much she was enjoying herself.

She made it about halfway before the smile faded from her face and she stopped frozen in her tracks. Her hands dropped limp to her sides, and the ball fell at her feet to bounce away.

Megan was just standing there. Her mouth open and stunned.

"Cassidy?" Megan yelled it, quickly and with a panic before shouting out louder in a tone that sounded almost angry, "Cassidy! Get out here now!"

Everything went quiet for few seconds before she appeared out of the guest house. She came out the front door, moving down the steps and rubbing her eyes against the light of the real world.

"Jesus, mom. What the hell did I..." She practically choked as she caught sight of the little dog girl, pausing only an instant before starting to run toward her, "Millie!"

As Cassidy drew near, Millie started to back away causing her to stop just a few feet away.

"Millie... It's me! It's Cassidy!" Her voice was desperate, and she was on the verge of crying.

"Cassidy?" Millie's head was spinning. She turned her head away submissively, looking back at the girl out of the corner of her eye, "You... You've gotten so big."

Cassidy took another step forward, and the little dog took another step backwards.

"Millie?" Cassidy couldn't help crying now, her hands coming up to cover her mouth as the friend she'd lost at thirteen years old shied away from her.

"You don't want me. Not now. Not anymore." Millie started moving around her, making her way way back to the house at a run, "You don't want me!"

"Millie! Stop!"

Megan remembered. She had always been more like a dog than most. She always responded to commands when necessary. Millie stopped in her tracks, still facing away from them and looking as if she was about to flee.

"Marcus wouldn't tell us what he did." Megan had come up alongside her daughter now, trying to speak calmly despite the emotions swirling inside of her, "We looked everywhere for you. We put up signs, we handed out flyers, we did everything we could think of, and now you're just... Here?"

Millie said nothing. She just stood motionless, not wanting to look back.

"Why didn't you leave that place? We would have found you." Megan asked quietly, "We gave up hope. We thought... We thought he might have..."

"He told me to... Stay. I'm a good girl. I do what I'm told. I'm... I'm a good..." Millie said it quietly, fighting back the tears and failing. Quickly it broke into sobs, "Why did this happen? Why did they do this to me?"

As one mother and daughter dashed toward her, swallowing her up in a hug that she couldn't resist this time. She fell into them, weeping with abandon.

"What do I do?" She asked between the labored breaths, "Please... Tell me what to do?"

Megan held her tight, one hand on the back of her head and stroking gently.

"Stay."