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It's not enough.

It's all I have, but it's not enough.

I have to-

I-

I force my brain to slow down. I need to move, to get up and over to Ryan. I have no idea how. I've lacked control for so long that reclaiming it seems impossible.

I can't be so defeatist, not now.

Get up Kale.

Get up.

I'm trying.

But I'm so slow.

Marty is-

Ryan is-

This is not okay. This is not even close to fucking okay.

Ryan could not have agreed to this, right?

There's no way.

I missed so much, I-

I missed so much, I'm not even close to sure what happened. What lead to this?

Marty knocked us down and then...

And then?

This.

Oh god. Everything is still vibrating.

I'm far more conscious now, but I'm not close to sober. I know that much, at least.

Get up Kale.

Get up.

Paws on the floor, push down hard, twist, fall. I've flipped over, I'm on my back now. It's no better.

I'm so slow. I'm so fucking slow.

Hard grunts and whimpers.

Things lose focus.

Colors lose clarity.

Everything blurs together.

I'm going under. I'm-

No.

Fuck no.

Everything is crystal.

"Fuck!"

The word is a shriek, a shout. It's anger, it's rage, it's grief, it's regret, it's disbelief, it's raw and it's orgasmic. It sickens me.

It's Marty. I can't focus. I don't know what's- I-

I plant my paws on the floor and push hard. With all the effort in the world I bring myself up to a sitting position.

There's a quiet crying, a fumbling, muttering.

Marty is stood up, he's turned toward me, but he's not looking at me. He isn't looking at anything, rather he's staring disoriented into space. His cock is hard and and a thread of cum drips from its tip.

He's-

Oh god.

He's shaking his head. Muttering.

"No no no no no."

He's pacing. Still shaking his head. Still muttering.

"This is not- This is not what- No no no..."

Pacing. Pacing. Pausing. Shouting.

"Fuck!"

Ryan is face down on the floor, exactly where he was before. He sniffs away his tears. His face is wet but he doesn't move a paw to wipe it. His pants and underwear have been pulled down to his ankles. He's not moving.

This is- This isn't-

"Ryan," I whisper. "I'm s-so sorry. I'm so f-fucking sorry."

I try to stand but I stumble. Instead, on paws and knees, I crawl toward him.

Marty isn't paying attention to us.He's in his own world having wandered back toward the bedroom; he's shaking his head and muttering as he reaches for his clothes. His movements are methodical, yet unnatural as though he's in a deep trance. While he mutters his voice modulates wildly between a whisper and a yell. He's high. He's far out of his mind. He's- He's a- He's a fucking r-

My fists ball. I'm furious. I want to fucking- I want to-

There's no time for that. Plus, I'm not exactly in any condition to-

"Kale," Ryan whispers in a quiet croak. He stares straight at me, his body is motionless.

My head is killing me. I scrunch my eyes shut. It's only now that I notice how much pain I'm in. One whole side of my body aches. I must have fallen hard on it. I certainly did nothing to soften my landing. I open my eyes. Everything is still vibrating, colors are radiating, but the auras I once saw are gone.

"I- W-we need to- to get you out of here Ryan. We both n-need to get out of here."

My tongue feels foreign to me. I'm not used to talking. It's a struggle.

I maneuver into a kneeling position beside him. I reach an arm out toward him but before I make contact a violent shudder runs through his body. I freeze in place, no idea what to do.

"Don't," he croaks. "Don't touch me."

And just like that he's crying again.

Maybe I should cry too, I-

This is insane, all of this. I can't believe what's happening, what has happened. I- A large part of me is in denial. Maybe that's for the best. If I were to stop and consider what has...

Don't go down that road Kale. You need to stay focused.

"W-we need to go Ryan. We need to go." I stare into his eyes, trying to communicate the importance of all of this telepathically. As if he doesn't know already.

Ryan nods, and closes his eyes. He breathes in deep, then exhales. The crying stops. It's all taking too long, but I can't rush him. I'm just- I'm scared. For him. For me.

He reaches down and pulls up his underwear. His muzzle clamps shut, his eyes screw tight, his entire body goes tense. He shuffles and maneuvers himself until they're fully on and then does the same with his pants. He pulls himself up to kneel in front of me and moves his paws to fasten his belt. As soon as his fingers make contact they recoil as if the belt were searing hot. Instead he clutches his chest as his upper body heaves. Then, for a moment, he's still. It doesn't last. He twists his head to the side and retches. Nothing comes up. He retches again and there it is. He's vomiting.

"Oh god, Ryan!" I go to pat his back or put my arm around him, or something, but I stop myself at the last moment.

Don't touch him Kale. Don't touch him.

He keeps going and going, as soon as I think he's done, there's more. My stomach churns uncomfortably. I look away. After another spew or two he groans and inhales and exhales and I allow myself to look again. He wipes his muzzle with his arm. He's done.

"Let's go," he says. His eyes are wide and hollow.

Marty returns to the room, now wearing underwear. He didn't get too far with the whole dressing thing after all. His eyes are wide and manic. He's staring straight at us, looking panicked and wild. Seeing his face I want to-

I-

I believed in him. I believed he could be better, that he could improve, that he could live a good life. I had an honest to god heart to heart with him for fuck's sake. And then what? I kissed him, or did he kiss me? What does it matter? I sucked his goddamn dick. And he... he fucked me. He... And I... Was I? Did I want him to? I don't remember. Was I even conscious enough to give consent? Fuck, I don't remember it at all. Did I-? What actually happened? I- I can't remember. I-

And then he-

With Ryan he-

I want to hit him. I want to drag my claws through his fur. I want to shove him down to the ground. I want to stamp on his smug little snout and kick out all of his teeth and leave his face a mess of bloodied pulp on the floor.

But I shiver, and my fur bushes up, and I realize I'm scared. I'm terrified. I want to run the fuck away from him. I-

I stagger to my feet, finally finding the power to stand. Ryan does the same, all the while staring right at me. He knows Marty is there, but he won't look at him. I don't know if he can.

"I love you Ryan," Marty says. "I- I love you Ryan." His voice is labored, pained, full of fury and fear and hatred and disgust and so much else I can't keep track of.

Ryan shivers, visibly distressed. His head bobs forward sharply and I think he's about to throw up again. Miraculously he doesn't. He shakes his back and forth, back and forth, eyes closed, head tilted down.

I don't know what to do. I-

"This was- Ryan, this shouldn't have- Fuck! I told you, Ryan. I told you I needed you. I told you I would be lost without you. See what I've done? See what I am without you. Fuck!I love you, Ryan. Please stay. Stay here with me and let's talk this through. Please. Plea- Fuck!"

His logic is twisted, his speech scattered. He's all twitchy and off and he takes a step toward us and more than anything I just want to get the hell away from him.

Ryan opens his eyes at the sound of Marty's footsteps. I point toward the apartment's exit and together we shuffle toward it in uncertain half-steps, both of us far from operating at maximum efficiency.

Marty moves to cut us off, easily able to outpace us.

"G-get out of the fucking way!" I yell in some vain attempt to sound threatening. My words comes out as a glorified yelp. I sound like a scared pup. It's not too far from the truth

"Wait, Ryan, listen, that was- Oh fuck. I- That shouldn't have happened but I- Look, please, stay. Listen. I-"

The apartment's door flies open. Ryan and I are still a good few feet away, Marty is a little closer, but we all stop in our tracks and turn to see our new visitor.

It's-

It's Adrian. And then it's Eve too. And I think I'm hallucinating. And I lose all track of- Of everything. And the whole world is vibrating so fucking much. And all the colors are bleeding into one. I'm left facing that familiar, formless blur.

People are speaking but there's no way I can take it in. I'm in shock. I'm out of it. I'm so totally out of it. I'm-

I can't- I cannot fucking let this happen. I have to stay present. I-

I'm back. Everything crystallizes in an instant. I am more present than I have been in hours. The reality of the moment hits me all at once and it hurts.

"Kale, are you okay?" It's Adrian, he's fully inside the apartment now, Eve at his side, the door has swung shut behind them. "Kale?"

Why are they here? How did they get here? I-

It can wait.

"I'm-" I begin.

"Get the fuck out of my apartment!" Marty yells. His voice is scratchy, worn, strained. "How the fuck did you even get in here? I told you to fuck off hours ago and you did. Now you're back with your little ferret girlfriend? Get the hell ou-"

"Shut the fuck up and don't move a fucking inch." Adrian snaps, pointing straight in the otter's face. Eyes full of flame and seething hatred. Marty is shocked into a temporary silence. "What were you saying Kale? Are you okay? Is Ryan okay? What happened?"

"I'm- I'm..." I try to form a sentence, but no words would do justice to the reality I've found myself in. "Marty, he..." God. No. I can't. I can't say it, I-

I'm furious. I'm angry, I'm-

I stomp toward the otter, thoughtless and fuming. He turns to me just in time to meet my fist head on. He sees it coming, and he's faster than me. I'm sloppy and high. He is too, but he's used to it. I'm not. He ducks under my punch and retaliates, hitting me square in the stomach. I stagger back and keel over, gasping for air, a searing pain shooting through me. There's yelling and thumps and movement and words but I can't. I just can't.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

When I look up Adrian is holding Marty's handgun. He fiddles with it briefly - perhaps checking safeties, readying it to fire, I don't know - then points it straight at the otter. Eve is beside me, paw on my back. Perhaps she was going to help me up but now all of her attention is on Adrian. He has the attention of the entire room.

I'm wheezing and breathless, unable to speak. Eve is petrified. Ryan has retreated into himself: his arms wrapped around his chest, his back against the wall, his legs bent. He stares out at the scene unfolding around him with a look of unguarded dread and distress.

"You cunt! Don't fucking move," Adrian commands.

The tension is thick. Everyone is on edge, except perhaps the person who should be most of all: Marty.

"You idiot," he snaps, accompanying the words with a spiteful laugh. "You break into my home and aim my gun at me? What the fuck do you think you're doing exactly? Why the hell did you even come back here?"

Somehow he's more coherent now than he was before Adrian and Eve busted in.

"I couldn't get through to Kale. I texted, I tried calling him over and over, but I got nothing. Last I saw of him you were waving a gun around. What do you think ran through my mind? Of course I came back for him."

"If you thought I might've put a bullet in his head why didn't you call the police? Oh wait, I know, you'd rather break in and shoot me."

"Come off it. I doubt the police would give a shit about my hunch that something bad had happened, and even then sending cops to storm your apartment seemed more likely to send you into a murderous panic than to actually achieve anything useful."

"So you let yourself in, you see everyone is alive and healthy and you still pull a gun on me, is that it? You're totally fucking insane."

"Are you really trying to tell me nothing is going on here? You just punched Kale for fuck's sake. Look around you Marty, what about this scene looks normal to you? You're in your underwear, Ryan's belt is undone and he looks like he's seen a fucking ghost, plus there's a pile of vomit on the floor, not to mention this gun was just sitting on a fucking table. Something is very wrong here and I'd rather this weapon be in my paws than yours if it has to be anywhere."

"A lot of rationalization for threatening to murder me. And are you really getting on at me for jabbing Kale? The bastard was going for my face, I was only acting in self defense."

Adrian's paw tightens around the handle of the gun.

"If Kale tried to hit you I'm sure he had a damn good reason."

"I'm sure he thinks he does, he's off his fucking head on drugs. Just fucking look at him Adrian, does that look like a sober wolf to you?" Eve and Adrian both turn to look at me. I hate it. I screw my eyes shut and shake my head as I finish catching my breath. "Exactly. And yeah, he threw up, no big deal. The drugs didn't agree with him. I was about to clean it up when you two so rudely barged in."

He's lying through his fucking teeth. How can he stand there so calmly and do that after everything that's happened today?

He was falling apart at the seams before Adrian and Eve came in, now he's back to his old conniving, scheming self. Perhaps the shock of seeing them was enough to force his self-preservation instincts to kick in. His back is against the wall, he's lashing out, but it's pointless. His attempts at deception will ultimately fail. There's no way out for him. Surely he can see that?

Then again he's high, he's desperate as hell, who knows what's going through his head? What is his endgame here? Does he have one? Or is he merely playing things out to their inevitable conclusion?

All I have to do is tell Adrian and Eve what happened and it's over. They'll believe me, high or not. Ryan can corroborate too and I hope he does because, truth is, I don't know exactly what happened. I got nothing more than snatched semi-conscious glimpses and malformed moments. So much is missing from my memory, I only caught flashes of... of...

God it was awful. Every time I go to open my mouth I feel like I'm about to throw up. I- I just need a minute. Or two.

"And then what? Ryan arrived and the two of you got it on? Is that why you're in nothing but your undies?" Adrian asks. He doesn't believe Marty one bit. The otter's convenient explanations may seem generally plausible, but Adrian knows better.

"Would that be so hard to believe?" Marty asks.

"Fuck me, Marty. I don't know what would be worse: knowing that everything you've told me is a lie, or that all of it is the honest truth. You're a disgusting, manipulative piece of shit."

"Think what you want of me Adrian, but if I'm telling the truth you're the one who looks psycho right now, huh? Why don't you put that gun down and get the fuck out of here? And take your little ferret friend and Kale with you while you're at it. The wolf's had enough fun for one night."

I need to speak up. My head's pounding, my stomach's churning, but I can't let this happen. I-

"You really are a cunt, aren't you?" Eve says, snapping out of her stupor. She puts her paws under my arms and helps me stand straight. Marty makes some smarmy comment back at her but she ignores him. "You okay Kale?" She asks in a whisper.

I'm not okay, but I nod regardless. She nods back, then moves toward Ryan.

"Don't touch me!" He barks, breaking his long-standing silence and flashing his fangs with a wild-eyed glare. Eve freezes in place.

"See, he doesn't want you here either." Marty says. "Get the fuck out, all three of you."

Adrian's resolve wavers for a moment, the gun dips. Marty takes a step toward him. The gun comes back up. Marty stops. The gun isn't loaded but Adrian doesn't know that. It seems Marty is happy to keep it this way.

"I said don't move Marty. I don't trust you." Adrian bares his teeth and lashes his tail, then swivels his head. "Ryan, are you okay? What happened?"

"You come in here, scare him half to death and demand answers out of him while pointing a gun at his roommate. You think he wants to talk to you?" Marty asks, incredulous. "You are a piece of work Adrian. All of this just to convince Kale that you're his savior. Maybe then he'll go on another date with you, huh? Pro tip foxy, you really don't need to try so hard."

"Shut your muzzle you miserable cunt," Adrian growls through gritted teeth. His tail lashes back and forth aggressively, his ears are flattened.

My breath is back finally, but I can't exactly say I'm clear headed. Maybe if everything stopped fucking shaking I wouldn't be having this problem. Regardless, it's not my turn to speak, Ryan has the spotlight. All eyes are on him.

He retreats even further into himself at the receiving end of our collective gaze. He dips his head and shuts his eyes.

"I- I-" He stutters, then shakes his head and sobs.

"Oh god, Ryan," Eve says. She's genuinely concerned. She can tell something seriously bad has happened just by looking at him.

"Yeah Marty, he looks like he's had a nice fucking night, right? You lying piece of shit," Adrian says.

"Or maybe he's crying because you're waving that gun around and growling," Marty counters, almost casual in tone.

"Kale, can you put an end to Marty's lies? What happened after I left?"

"I- he- Ryan-" I try to speak but my tongue keeps falling over itself. I take a second and exhale before trying again. "Marty, he- he put the gun down. We were talking, we got high and I- I don't quite- Ryan came in and they were shouting, arguing I was- I- Oh god Adrian, I fucked up, I- It was awful. And then Ryan, he- We were trying to leave and- We were trying to leave when-"

"He's off his head Adrian, he's high out of his fucking mind. Look at him. He's stood there twitching and rambling incoherently. Come on Adrian, we may not like each other but I know you're not an idiot. Are you gonna take anything Kale says at face value right now? And do you really need to point that gun at my head?"

Oh god. I'm an idiot. I'm a total liability. I know what happened, not every detail but I know. I just can't quite- I-

If only everything weren't shaking. If only my head weren't pounding. If only my tongue would obey me. Fuck.

Adrian hesitates and half lowers the gun. Marty doesn't move.

"I don't know what happened here and I don't trust a word you're saying Marty, but okay, we can be a little more civil." He looks over to Ryan. "I'm sorry Ryan, I didn't mean to freak you out by barging in like this. I didn't even think you'd be here I- I'm sorry. I'm sure this is a lot for you, it sure is a lot for me. But, please, could you tell us what happened tonight?"

Ryan sobs and sobs and says nothing. Eve stands beside him, not touching but watching over him, worry plastered across her face.

"No one's going to hurt you Ryan. I can tell something happened tonight, but I want you to know you're in no danger now. Adrian and I won't let anything happen to you, I swear." Eve says, speaking gentle and steady. "Please, at your own pace, could you give us an idea of what happened here? You don't have to say anything that would make you feel uncomfortable."

Ryan sobs and sobs and it seems like Eve's words didn't change a thing. Then he nods. It's a small nod, but it's a nod nonetheless.

"Yeah," Marty says. "Go ahead Ryan, tell them what happened."

I can barely believe my ears. What does Marty think he can gain from this? Oh god, this is his gambit, isn't it? He thinks he has a chance, and what if he's right? What if Ryan is so scared, so scarred, so utterly entrenched in Marty's mental and physical abuse that he feels he can do nothing but cover for him? The thought of that alone is awful.

Even worse, what if I'm wrong? What if what I thought happened didn't really happen? I've been out of my head a while now. I dissociated, I lost time, I could barely tell what was happening for so long. I missed so much and what I did see was so surreal and blurred and... Can I even trust myself?

Upon hearing Marty, Ryan lifts his head. He stares at the otter with those wide wild eyes. When he speaks, he screams.

"Fuck you Marty! I hate you! I hate you so fucking much!" He's full of fear, rage, terror and spite, but mostly spite. Instantly my doubts are dissolved. "I wish you did fucking kill yourself! I wish you were fucking dead! You still have time. Go ahead and fucking kill yourself now you wretched waste of air! I fucking hate you!" His voice cracks as he yells. It sounds as though he's tearing up his throat. He doesn't seem to care.

We're all struck silent. Movement in my peripheral vision catches my attention and I whip my head around. Marty's tail is swishing back and forth and he's shaking. His paper thin plan has been torn down. He's a wreck.

"Y-you have no idea what happened. Ryan is- Ryan doesn't- Fuck!" He yells his final word and paces back and forth in uneven steps. The realization must be dawning on him that he has no outs. He's done. It's over.

"You lying fuck," Adrian spits, aiming the gun at Marty again. "Stop moving."

Marty isn't listening. He twists in place to face Ryan.

"Ryan you- I'm- What happened- This isn't how it was meant to go. I told you I was worthless without you. I told you. I- It was a mistake. You know that. You know me. I- It shouldn't have happened. I'll make it up to- I- I can make this right. You know I can Ryan. I love you. I-" He paces toward Ryan. Eve steps between the two of them.

"Get away from him!" Adrian yells.

Marty twitches, lashes his tail and turns back toward the fox.

"Or what? You'll shoot me?" He speaks in an odd and unsteady tone, pointing at Adrian with an outstretched finger. "You're a fucking joke. You've got it out for me because I fucked your crush. I bet you're just begging for an excuse to shoot me, aren't you?"

"You're insane. I don't want to shoot you, I want you to calm the fuck down so I can get some straight answers as to what the hell happened tonight. Then I want to get the fuck out of here and never see your face again."

"Pointing a gun at me is real good way to make me calm down, right? You fucking moron. Get out of my fucking apartment!"

My head hurts. Hearing Marty spit his manipulative drivel in the face of unassailable odds is giving me a migraine. He sickens me. He's- He's a fucking-

I need to speak up. I-

"I'll stop aiming at you when you stay fucking still and stop shouting."

"Get out of my fucking apartment! I need to talk to Ryan. I-"

"What is wrong with you? We're not leaving you with Ryan." Eve cuts in. "Did you listen to a word he said?"

"He- Fuck! He doesn't- It's all- It's a misunderstanding." Marty is delusional if he thinks he can walk this back. His pace of speech is erratic and he can't seem to focus his gaze on any one thing, his eyes darting back and forth randomly across the room as he speaks. Deep inside he must know he's lost. "It was an accident. When I talk to Ryan it will- It was-"

I can't stand it anymore. I'm done listening to Marty's shit.

My voice comes to me. Words comes to me. They don't rest easy on my mind. I don't want to speak them. My stomach is churning more than ever and I don't know if it's my place to say what I'm about to say, but It's too late. I can't stop myself.

"Shut the fuck up Marty, you're a goddamn rapist!" Instantly all eyes are on me. "You violated Ryan right in-fucking-front of me. All your lies, all your diversion, all the acting in the fucking world won't save you from that truth. You knocked him to the floor and you- You forced yourself- You- You motherfucking worthless piece of shit. Ryan is right, you'd be better off dead."

Ryan bursts into tears. Eve's jaw falls open and she covers her open muzzle with her paws. Marty stares at me, eyes empty, motionless for the moment. Adrian adjusts his aim from chest to head.

"Y-you're high," Marty says. He's quieter now, more subdued. Feeble. I think he's scared. Good. "Y-you don't know what you saw Kale. You've barely been conscious for the last hour, you have no idea what happened. Ryan. You- You know what happened. You wouldn't- I didn't- Tell them. Tell them that never happened. Tell them I didn't rape you Ryan, please." He's begging, pleading. Struggling against the inevitable. Does he really believe he didn't do it? Did I actually hallucinate the whole thing? Or are his fevered ramblings nothing more than a deranged fantasy?

The room's collective focus turns to Ryan once again. He's sobbing loudly, paws covering his face. He doesn't speak.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to," Eve assures him. "Don't let Marty pressure you."

"I trust Kale, high or not." Adrian says. "You're a fucking monster, Marty."

"Ryan, tell them, please," Marty pleads. He's in total denial. Can't he see he's begging for his own demise?

Ryan's sobs only grow louder. Guilt washes over me. I shouldn't have said what I said. I could have spoken up without laying Ryan's trauma bare so starkly. Dammit, I can't leave things like this.

"Ryan," I say. "I'm sorry. It wasn't my place to say what I said, I- I shouldn't have- I'm sorry."

He opens his eyes and looks my way. "You're a victim here too Kale. Don't apologize to me, I- I can't take it. You saw it. You were there. It- Oh god." He erupts into sobs again, then turns to Eve. He can't bring himself to admit what happened in plain English, but he feels he has to say something. "Kale is telling the truth."

Marty's reaction is instant.

"Get the fuck out!" He yells. "I need to talk to Ryan. Get out! All of you!"

His arms flail as his tail cuts back and forth through the air. His motions are volatile and unpredictable.

"If you think we're going to leave Ryan alone with his fucking rapist you're even further out of your mind than I thought you were," Adrian growls. He's furious.

"Don't call me that!" Marty snaps. He takes a step toward Adrian.

"Rapist? That's what you fucking are. Now back off!"

My head is pounding hard, my mind is racing. Marty has been exposed, this should be over, but still he's fighting. My paw finds its way to my pocket and fumbles for something I'm only half conscious of.

Marty ignores the warnings and takes another step toward Adrian.

"Get out now, or I'll call the cops." He says. "What do you think the police are going to say when I tell them you broke into my apartment and aimed a gun at my head?"

"Go ahead you lunatic, call the cops. What do you think they'll have to say about what you did to Ryan?" Adrian asks. Marty's so close to him now that the end of the otter's muzzle is almost brushing against the barrel of the gun. "And back the fuck off. I'm serious."

"Oh, I'm so scared," Marty says, tone thick with sarcasm. He lifts his paws in mock surrender. "The law is well known for punishing the wealthy and aiding the unemployed, right? You fucking idiot, I'm rich if you forgot. You can't hurt me, but I can hurt you. Now get the fuck out of here before I have to."

"Back. Off. Now." Adrian commands through gritted teeth. "I'm deadly fucking serious."

There's a moment of silence. Marty pushes his nose right up against the barrel of the gun.

"No," he says. "I don't think I will."

He grabs the gun.

The instant his fingers touch it's surface Adrian pulls the trigger.

There's a click.

And nothing.

The gun isn't loaded.

I knew that. Marty knew that. Ryan knew that.

Eve didn't.

Her paws are clasped tight over her muzzle.

Adrian didn't.

He thought the gun was loaded and he pulled the trigger.

He pulled the trigger.

I'm in shock.

Adrian is too. His eyes are wide, his ears stand tall and alert. He isn't moving.

Marty is outraged. He wrenches the gun free from Adrian's grip with a guttural, wordless shout. Gripping the barrel he pulls it back, then brings it round, smacking it hard against the side of Adrian's muzzle. A spurt of blood flies across the room.

"Motherfucker!" He yells. "You tried to shoot me!"

Adrian's head whips around and he staggers back. He clasps a paw against his muzzle. I spring into action.

"You fucking-!" Adrian starts.

Marty pulls the gun back, readying it for a second hit. But before he can swing I'm on him. Before I can process what I'm doing there's a shallow cut running down Marty's arm from where I've slashed him. It's only now I realize I'm holding a razor blade in my right paw. It's the same one I took from Adrian's bathroom the night after he... I kept it in my wallet all this time. Now it's out, and drawing new blood.

Marty yelps in pain and twists toward me. I try to react but I'm still sluggish. He punches me hard in the chest again. I drop the blade, winded, and I clutch my chest, doubling over. I fucked up, I'm still too weak. I'm still too slow. He pulls back the gun, readying a swing. I brace for it.

But the blow never comes.

Instead there's a smash, a grunt, a thump and then heavy breathing. I look up and there's Eve, panting. Marty is crumpled on the floor below her, a broken beer bottle beside him, shards of it scattered across the carpet. He's still breathing, but I don't know if he's conscious.

I wheeze and do my best to catch my breath. A relative period of quiet and stillness settles in the room as everybody in it works through their own form of recovery.

By the time I'm stable enough to speak I've only come up with a single word to say: "fuck."

Eve is handing Adrian some paper towels. He presses them against the side of his muzzle. His paw is blotted red. The sight of blood on his fur sends a shiver down my spine and up my tail.

The image of him lying in his bed half-dead and drenched in his own blood just won't get out of my head.

Ryan is beside me now, keeping a little distance. He glares at Marty with narrowed eyes and bared teeth. Marty lets out an incomprehensible groan and moves in slow motion to clutch his head.

"You bastard!" Ryan shouts.

He pulls his leg back and all I can do is scream "no" as he launches a vicious kick at Marty's head. My word has no effect. He doesn't hold back.

Marty's head whips back on impact, then he goes limp. My paws clamp over my muzzle. Both Eve and Adrian's eyes go wide and they rush across the room. Then we're all stood in a circle, towering over Marty, wondering the same thing: is he dead?

A part of me hopes he is, and I hate that.

There's a beat where we don't know the answer. Then his chest rises, and falls. He's breathing. We take a collective sigh of relief, all of us apart from Ryan at least. He shakes his head, twists on the spot and paces away. Marty lets out a deep, fractured groan. His eyes are shut and, other than breathing, he's not moving at all. I doubt he's fully conscious if he's conscious at all, but he's alive.

Eve massages her temples, taking deep, measured breaths. Adrian taps my shoulder and catches my eyes. He stares into me and I stare into him, there's more contained in his eyes than I'm capable of processing right now.

Seeing Adrian, feeling his touch, knowing he came back for me and that he's here for me now, that he truly cares for me and that I truly care for him... That's what's keeping me together.

There's a cut on the side of his muzzle from where Marty hit him. It has stopped bleeding by now, but the patch of gore it left behind is far from subtle. It reminds me of things I'd rather not dwell on, but still I can't tear my eyes away from him. I reach out and gently touch the bloodied fur around his wound.

Everything is shaking still, the whole world vibrates wildly, except for him. I remember suddenly that time is passing and I pull my paw away. He spreads his arms wide, making an offer. I accept it. We hug.

"I'm so glad you're alive Kalie," he says, and I realize he's crying. So many tears have been shed today, I'm surprised the apartment isn't halfway flooded.

I want to ask him the how and why and what the hell of it all, but this isn't the right time for so many reasons. Instead I hold him tighter and tighter. I'm sure I must be hurting him but I can't bring myself to loosen my grip. He doesn't complain.

"I'm so glad you're alive too Adrian," I reply, meaning the words every bit as much as he does. He laughs a sad little laugh. "I love you," I add. He doesn't say anything, he just squeezes me tighter and tighter. It kind of hurts, but I don't complain.

Eventually we pull apart.

"Right," he says, sniffing away the last of his tears. "Let's get the hell out of here."

"Wait. We can't just leave," Eve says. "No matter how much of an asshole he is we have to face facts: we just broke into Marty's apartment and beat him unconscious. He has money and resources and," her breathing speeds up, approaching hyperventilation. She catches herself, slows down deliberately, gives herself a few seconds to reset, and continues. "Let's not be stupid about this. Your prints are on the gun Adrian, and mine are on that bottle. The least we can do is wipe them. Marty was off his head on drugs, if he tries to prosecute we can argue he isn't remembering things right. We can settle on a story between us that lessens our involvement and stresses Marty's culpability. Maybe he tripped and fell and banged his head and dropped that bottle. I mean, look, us breaking in to help Ryan and Kale escape this abusive scumbag is one thing, us beating him half to death while doing so is a lot more fucking serious." She pauses for breath and I silently thank whatever gods there may be for Eve. I'd be a wreck without her. Well, more of a wreck. "And, Ryan, this place is entirely paid for by Marty right? His name is on all the documents?"

Ryan doesn't turn to us when he answers. "Yes."

"Good, then you should probably pack up whatever you can't bear losing as quick as you can because who knows if or when you'll be able to come back here."

"I'm never coming back here," he says. It's a matter of fact statement. "I'll get on it." With that he walks off toward the bedroom.

"Alright people, we have no idea if Marty will be out for hours or minutes, so lets get moving."

Adrian walks off to get something to wipe prints with. I stay with Eve. She looks at me, face full of sorrow and pity, silent. I reach a paw toward her. She takes it in hers gingerly and offers as much of a smile as she can muster.

"I owe you," I say.

"No you don't," she says.

"You saved us."

"And you've saved me many times wolf boy."

I wrap her in my arms, and she wraps me in hers, words not cutting it. Our embrace full to bursting with all the unspoken things we wish we had the time and energy to say. It's a beautiful thing, but she cuts it short. She's worried. We need to get moving.

Marty lets out another groan beneath us, it's louder this time. It doesn't exactly sound coherent but I take it as some sort of progress toward consciousness.

Things move fast and I get lost in the mix. I feel useless and aimless. People buzz around me, Ryan scouting around for things he doesn't want to leave behind, Eve and Adrian molding the scene to their will, and there I am just standing, pacing, brooding, reeling. This is going to take quite some time to work through.

There's stress and deliberation, talk and tension, confirmation and motion and there's so much more, but the next thing I'm fully conscious of is being in the back of Eve's car. I'm sat beside Adrian. He's holding my paw in his, or is it the other way around? Ryan is in front beside Eve. He's barely spoken a word this whole time. None of us are surprised. I guess I've barely spoken either.

"So," Eve says, starting the car and pulling off. "It's getting late and it's been a long day, I propose you all come back to mine for the night. There's enough space. Marty knows where you live Kale, and while I hope he'll come to his senses when the drugs wear off, he may not. Being somewhere he can easily find seems like an unnecessary risk to me."

I agree, I think. I say so, I think. I'm not fully following. I'm exhausted, my head hasn't stopped pounding, the world is still shaking. There's so much to process and I have so little processing power. Tomorrow is going to be a hell of day.

"Adrian, Kale, you two can sleep on the sofa bed. I have a spare bedroom for you, Ryan, if you're okay with this plan of course."

"Sure," he says. There's a lull in conversation as Eve gives him space to say more. He doesn't.

I can't even imagine how he feels right now.

Marty, he...

Ryan was right in front of me and...

And I was...

I was just lying there.

I could've stopped it.

If I wasn't so high, so weak-willed, so self-absorbed I could've stopped it. A surge of self-loathing assaults my battered conscious.

"I think we should all get some sleep and leave figuring out what comes next for the morning. I'm sure we're all drained after tonight," Eve says. She shakes her head. "You know, I really didn't think my date night would end like this."

Oh god I'd totally forgotten she was meant to be on a date. Instead she was busting into Marty's apartment to save my ass. She deserves better than mopping up my mess. There's another great reason to hate myself.

I don't feel so good.

There's engine hum and traffic, forced small talk and tension, street lights and and motion and there's so much more, but the next thing I'm fully conscious of is throwing up in Eve's sink. I'm in the bathroom, alone. When I stare at my reflection it appears otherworldly. It doesn't make any sense to me. How can that be me? The wolf in the mirror is ragged and worn, he can barely keep his eyes open. There is blood on his face. Where did that come from? Marty, most likely, or Adrian. It doesn't matter. I throw up again.

This was a long time coming.

I wash away the vomit. I look up, forcing myself to reconcile with my reflection. I have to live with it, after all.

There, in the mirror, is a wolf. He's not the same wolf that woke up this morning. He's certainly not the same wolf that first met Ryan a couple of weeks ago. He's something new. Something strange. Better? Worse? I don't know. Different? Definitely. More conscious. Less carefree. More morose. Less confused. It's a mixed bag.

Existence didn't used to hurt so bad, but now living is larger than ever. There's so much more to life than I knew. More pain, yes, but more joy too. And, there's something I need to do, if I can find the courage. Though, maybe I'd be better off a coward.

God I could do with a cigarette, but every bit as much as I want to smoke one I equally want to never touch one again.

I'm learning. I'm growing. I'm trying. I'm failing.

My head hurts. I do my best to empty it.

Soon I'm sat with Adrian on Eve's sofa bed, rubbing the sides of my head. This is hard. Now. Then. What's next. All of it.

"How are you feeling?" Adrian asks, soft spoken. He's sat right beside me, but we're not touching.

"Bad," I say.

He nods.

There's silence.

"You got pretty high huh?"

I can't help but wince.

"Yeah," I admit.

"What did you take?"

"Acid. Acid and uh, something else I... I was so far gone at that point I don't even- Fuck, Adrian, I'm a wreck. I don't even remember."

"Did... Did Marty force you to take it?"

And again.

"No. Not the acid, for sure. The other time I was... It's all a blur now. I doubt he forced me, but there's so much I can't put together. It's like trying to complete a puzzle with only half of the pieces."

Adrian frowns and folds his arms and turns his head away from me.

"Why did you take the acid?"

"Marty was in so much pain and he said the drugs would help, I chose to believe him. He offered me some, I said yes. I didn't want to think. I was tired. I was hurting. It was a bad idea," I say. "A terrible idea, and I knew that at the time. I'm an idiot Adrian, a fucking idiot for doing what I did. I don't deserve you, or Eve, or anyone."

"Kale, don't-"

"No Adrian, it's not just the drugs. Marty shoved me and Ryan to the ground when we were trying to leave. He raped Ryan right in fucking front of me. I was so out of my mind on drugs, so deluded and fucked up I- I barely knew what was happening, I- I couldn't move, I- I failed him. I could have got up, hit Marty in his stupid fucking face and ended it right then and there, but I didn't. I just lay still on the floor. I let it happen. I let it fucking happen and that is something I'll never forget."

I'm crying. I don't know when I started but I don't want to stop.

"Kale, listen to me." Adrian's at full attention, his paw on my shoulder. I want to melt into him, or for him to melt into me. "Marty caused this, not you. You made some bad decisions, yes, and part of me is fucking furious at you for taking that acid, but you're not responsible for the fucked up stuff that happened tonight, Marty is. He manipulated you. He got the best of you. That's what he does. He manipulated Ryan for what? Months? Years? That's who he is. This isn't on you Kale. It's not your fault."

His words don't stop me from crying, but I absorb them and they help, a little. I want to believe in them and, knowing they come from Adrian, I try to.

My muzzle opens and words slip out: "You're too good for me."

"I'm not," he states. "Maybe you're a fuck up Kale, but I am too. I- I pulled the trigger on that gun tonight. I tried to kill a man."

"The gun wasn't loaded," I say.

"I didn't know that when I pulled the trigger. I would have killed him, I-" He shakes his head. "I haven't had time to process that, I don't even know where to begin."

"Adrian you were trying to defend yourself, and Eve, and Ryan, and me. It was an insane situation, I can't even imagine where we would be if that gun was loaded, but you did what you felt you had to do and you had good intentions."

"I'm not sure I did. I hate Marty. I fucking despise him. And that was before finding out about Ryan. After? Part of me wanted to kill him. That scares me."

I dab at the damp around my eyes, my tears having dried up. I'm sure formulating a response would be easier if the world would stop fucking shaking.

"Like you said, he's a manipulator," I say. "And a rapist. He hit me, he violated Ryan. You're allowed to hate him."

"That doesn't make me his rightful executioner."

"He was reaching for the gun, you thought it was loaded, he was high and dangerous. What else were you meant to do?"

His jaw shifts and his ears swivel as he thinks. Maybe this isn't the most appropriate moment for such a thought, but I can't help but think how cute it is, how cute he is, how glad I am to be here with him, how glad I am he came back for me, how glad I am he's a part of my life, how badly I need him to stay in it.

"Yeah," he says. "Yeah."

He's trying to believe me. Struggling, but trying.

And then there's silence.

And my head is spinning.

A thought is desperately trying to escape the confines of my mind.

One that has been locked inside for a while now.

It wants to be set free, to materialize.

I knew this was coming.

I've known it for hours.

Since Marty's.

Since before Ryan arrived. Before everything went wrong.

Lying there high, escaping my life, seeing myself from the outside I figured it all out.

It was easier than breathing.

Getting high wasn't the right choice, but it had an upside.

I found some clarity.

Now, back in my own body, trapped in my own mind it's time to confront what I found.

Except it isn't.

Now is not the right time, how could it be?

But it's never been the right time.

And it never will be the right time.

There's no such thing as 'the right time'.

There is only time.

And truth.

And here.

And now.

I break the silence.

And even though I know what's coming I'm every bit as surprised as Adrian when I say: "I love you."

I guess I found that courage after all.

He cocks his head, gives me a funny look. He's not sure how to take those words in this moment, as naked and bare as they are.

In the passing seconds he takes my paws in his, catches my eyes and smiles.

"I love you too Kalie," he says.

But he doesn't understand.

"No, Adrian," I say, and I realize I'm shaking like a nervous schoolboy. The butterflies that have appeared in my stomach won't stop flapping. "I love you."

I tighten my grip on his paws.

His muzzle parts slightly, his eyes widen, then narrow. He tilts his head.

"You're high," he says. Matter of fact. Dismissive.

Scared.

"No," I say. "Well, yes. A little."

"You don't know what you're saying."

"That's where you're wrong," I say.

"K-Kale," his voice is uneven. He's shaking, as I am. "Don't fuck around like this, please. Y-you're high. You're exhausted. You're-"

"Adrian. I'm not fucking around. When it comes to this I would never."

He stares at me, and I stare at him.

"Okay," he says. "You're not fucking around, but I want to be sure I know what you're saying. Please, put it bluntly for me. I can't deal with guessing games, not now. This has me halfway toward a panic attack already."

He's not joking, I can see it plainly on his face. He's worried, fearful, confused.

I still don't understand why, but he loves me. I rejected him, and now I'm here saying what I'm saying and doing what I'm doing. Of course he's terrified, of course he's skeptical.

But he doesn't need to be. I know how I feel and I'm done lying to myself. I'm done lying to Adrian. No more games.

"Then here it is," I say. "I love you, Adrian. As more than a friend. Romantically. And right now, more than anything, I want to kiss you."

His eyes go wide, then he freezes completely. The moment lingers. Then he blinks and finds his words.

"Are you... Are you serious?"

"I'm serious," I say.

He shuts his eyes and says nothing; my heart sinks. I wonder if I got it all wrong. Perhaps Adrian has already set himself on moving on. Perhaps I'm too late.

It feels like absolutely fucking forever passes, but it can't be more than a few seconds.

He opens his eyes and they're glistening, and he's smiling the warmest smile, and he's glowing, and I'm caught in that glow, and then I'm glowing too, and he says: "then what are you waiting for Kalie? Kiss me."

And in this night and on this evening, he tastes better than anything. He tastes like ferocity and fire. He tastes like cozy, lazy evenings. He knows me and I know him, and we work each other wild with paws and pacing, tongues and tasting, tails and tracing fingers through fur and oh god I could get lost in him.

I want to.

More than anything.

Even better, I can.

Because I am his wolf, and he is my fox.

So I do.

And everything that isn't us is eclipsed. The sofa bed is mere concept at best. Mammals and muzzles are all that's left.

And paws and moans and grunts and 'I love you's, all said and meant in ways I've never felt before. All clothing now on the floor.

Soft orange fur. Bare naked fox. Body on body. Hard at his touch. Wet in his mouth. Grunts and humps. Any one detail is not enough. Taken together it's almost too much. But there's no such thing when it comes to him.

My paws feel his face, his chest, his back, his butt. This isn't sex, it's making love. Something I've never done before. Something I've never let myself do. It's new to me. It's wonderful. It's- It's...

God, who needs words when you have this?