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Tai's Story

-- By Krazy Kitsune/Kichigai Kitsune

Copyright 2005 onwards.

Tedious disclaimer:

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

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

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

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

Part Three...

---

Chapter 11

A little knowledge is a dangerous thing...

The blizzard howled on and on outside. The weak glow of dawn could not pierce the smothering clouds, and so a surreal darkness had fallen over the snowy mountains, despite the earliness of the hour. The brutal snowstorm that had struck up in the middle of the night showed no signs of winding down, and as more and more of the thick snow choked the sky and blanketed the world outside, it seemed likely they would be snowed in yet again this winter. Maybe not tonight, but it was something to look forward to at least.

Unfortunately, the cold easily penetrated their home, its ineffectual wooden walls almost no barrier. So the tawny kit shivered slightly in his pajamas as he made his way down the short corridor, already regretting getting out of bed on this weekend day.

"Mom?" he asked quietly, his bare, cold paws making little noise on the timber flooring as he peered timidly into the study. Trying to get her attention, but trying not to annoy. It was a fine line to walk. She was on her laptop again. It was the most expensive item in the entire house, Tai knew, yet it was just a clunky, gray box that whirred noisily on the cramped hardwood desk.

Eraline quickly closed whatever it was she was working on, revealing a generic background image - where a picture of Tai and both his parents used to be, there was now nothing but an insipid image of sunflowers in spring. It hurt to see that. He wondered when she'd changed it. And why.

"What is it?" his mother demanded curtly. She didn't turn to him, but Tai noticed she seemed tired. Or upset. "I'm busy, Tai, don't you have homework?"

"I..." Tai blinked, looking down at the sheet of paper he held loosely in his paws. Incredibly, he felt even more unsure of himself now. "I-I'm stuck. C-can you-?"

Eraline sighed impatiently. "No, I can't. For goodness' sake. I'm busy."

"... Okay..." Tai bit his lip, staring at the floor. "Dad would've helped..." he mumbled thoughtlessly, turning away.

There was a brief pause, and in that silence he started to walk to the door.

"What was that, Tai?" Eraline asked coldly, twisting around in her chair.

Tai halted at the doorway. "N-nothing!" he blurted. "I'll try."

With only her icy gaze Eraline froze him place, and he stood perfectly still, as if faced with a predator in the bushes. She was going to yell at him. He could feel it. The shy boy tried to prepare himself, which he could never seem to do.

But instead she sighed. "Tai..."

"I'm sorry! I-I'll be alright."

"Tai, I can't help you because your dad isn't here anymore. Things aren't the same as they used to be."

"Wh-what do you mean?"

Eraline shook her head. "Ugh, Tai... I have to do so much more now that your dad's..." She trailed off into silence. At last she adopted that haughty, angry look Tai was far too familiar with. "Never mind. I have just two hours to do this in, or we could lose the car. After that, I have to get ready for work. I'm going to be working from nine until seven. I'm not going to have any time to myself for the next two days, so please just... go and do your homework as best you can. Watch TV. Entertain yourself. I can't always be there to help you with homework from a grade you've done before."

Tai nodded, eyes downcast. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright." She turned back to the screen, waving him away. "Just let me do this, please. And when you're done, get yourself dressed and go get some firewood inside. You're going to need it today."

The kit rubbed at his eye before quietly padding back to the den. That had not been as bad as he'd feared.

He stopped and glared at the nearly bare kitchen, a tiny inset in the living room that was only three feet squared.

His mother was going to be busy or away all day. And he was already hungry. Not that he was sure there was all that much in the pantry to begin with. That would be okay, he supposed. Having to skip a meal was pretty normal for him; it wouldn't be that bad. If he needed to, surely he could find something.

He pulled out a chair and sat at the old and scratched dining table, laying the paper in his paws down in front of him.

Picking up his pencil, the fox-boy quickly scrawled the answers to the remaining sums, before crossing his arms on the table pensively.

He hated lying like that, it made him feel terrible, but he had to. She'd never talk to him unless he had, in her mind, a good reason - evidently, help with homework wasn't a good enough reason for today. But, then, she was busy. She had to work and do all this stuff, or they'd never eat. Tai already needed new clothes. His current ones were just not fitting any more and winter was coming. He regretted the comment about his father - he knew that his mom was too busy. He knew that, so why did he...? What a stupid thing to say! Why could he never just shut up?!

Why did he keep upsetting others?

The kit stared at his own spidery handwriting until it became a meaningless blur, listening to the chaotic weather outside.

What did it, what pushed him over the edge this time, he wasn't sure - there was just so much wrong this week. It all crashed over him like a breaking wave. His head collapsed onto his skinny arms, and he started to cry.

Yesterday, he had yelled at his friends. Well, if you could call them that. He didn't even remember why exactly, what they had done. He only knew that he had made a neat little clay-doll in Art class: a little fox that stood by itself. He'd spent most of the hour trying to color it with water paints and markers, but a group of older boys- as the class was held for both second and third graders- pulled it off the shelf as class was winding down.

It smashed into a dozen pieces. One of them said that 'Tai must've put it too close to the edge' of the shelves when Tai knew perfectly well he'd put it towards the back. He said nothing then, even when they all smirked at him the way they did. They were bigger than him, as many of Tai's classmates were, and Tai knew they'd just get him after class if he said anything. Whatever he did, he'd only make things worse. Besides, the teacher wouldn't have believed him.

He had no idea why they wanted to do that to him. They just always did.

He felt awful. He wanted so much to apologize to the ones he yelled at, but he couldn't. He couldn't speak to them, not for some time. Not after what he called them. He had run away, but they told on him and he'd narrowly avoided detention. By a stroke of luck, his fair-weather friends had gone to the art teacher, who seemed to realize why the tawny-furred boy was so upset.

And he'd have to go back to school on Monday. Go back to it all. He hoped they'd forgive him. He didn't want to be alone on the playground. If he'd even work up the courage to venture to the playground.

All he wanted was someone to talk to. Someone to cry on, instead of his own forearms, alone. But he was getting hints that his mother was going to switch his school again. Maybe even hold him back another year. Something big was happening, and it confused and worried him so much.

Sobbing quietly onto his slender, downy limbs, he wished his dad was still with them. Wished with such intensity it somehow hurt. So his mom would still really love him. So he'd have someone to ask what was happening to him next. Someone to hold him. Someone.

Anyone.

Presently...

There were a lot of them. That's all he could be sure of. About half a dozen at least. They'd chased him here, and now they searched for him.

The tawny fox kit huddled up behind a badly parked forklift in the damp corner of the small warehouse, hoping his chattering teeth wouldn't give him away to the many jacketed adults that were scouring the building looking, all looking for him.

Tai was confused. Were all of these furs, clearly adults, friends of Darron? That didn't make much sense - none of this did. But they were methodically checking every darkened nook and cranny of this damp, cluttered storage building, and Tai got the feeling that if they'd found him, they didn't intend to help him.

Time was running out, and they were reaching the section of the warehouse where he hid, shivering up against the cold metal chassis of the forklift. But despite that, Tai felt strangely calm.

Mike was safe. He had to be. Just knowing that was... He felt like he'd done all he needed to. Finally achieved a goal. He wanted to just curl up and go to sleep now; maybe he'd wake up somewhere warm.

It was hard to understand. Tai still didn't understand it - for some reason, he couldn't bear the thought of losing Mike, but he faced the possibility of his own death with a detached indifference. He didn't care if he got hurt anymore. After all, he was sort of getting used to it.

The fox boy just stared vaguely at the dark-gray concrete ground.

If he died, he could see his mom and dad again. Right? For some incomprehensible reason, that made sense to him now. He was just sick of losing things, and everyone being so awful and cruel to him. If he could just curl up and sleep forever, never to be cursed with wakening again, he'd do it. If he could've done that, he would have done it long ago.

Well... at least, until he met a certain bark-furred boy. Maybe that was why he couldn't bring himself to surrender. Just to stand up right now and get them to shoot him. Let them do whatever they wanted. He wanted to go home with...

A loud scuffing noise snapped him from his maudlin reverie.

"Shit, did he sneak back out?" a grownup snarled. "No sign of him."

"Where the hell did the other one go?" demanded another voice, disturbingly near Tai's hiding place. "I couldn't see him. Reckon they split up?"

"Yeah. Come on. They won't get out."

"How the hell did that dipshit kid let them get away anyway? They could fuck everything up."

"No idea. Come on, let's finish up here and check the next warehouse over."

Tai blinked. Dipshit kid? Did they mean Darron?

The kit looked around, taking an inventory of the area. Not far from the forklift's concealing bulk was a stack of empty pallets. Not perfect cover, but if he could make it, he might be able to get around these two adults at least... he could hear the others, but had only a rough idea of their location. For all he knew, on the other side of the pallets was another of the prowling grownups.

But he decided to try anyway. He tentatively raised his head, looking over the seat of the vehicle. Both adults were looking to the side. Holding his breath, Tai snuck away, covering the few feet to the pallets as hastily as he dared, his sneakers' wet soles threatening to give away his position. Luckily, nobody seemed to notice the soft, muted noises they made on the concrete over their own.

Nonetheless, as Tai ducked down on the other side of the high stack, his heart was sounding off like a jackhammer in his tiny, bare chest. Something was making him tingle all over, and feel horribly shaky.

Briefly, the idea to take his shoes off flitted into the kit's brain, but he immediately discarded the idea. He was freezing! The very idea of removing more clothing made him feel faint. He had discovered in years past that 'the biting cold' wasn't a meaningless phrase - the cold could be painful. Very painful.

He crept around the pile of stacked wooden slats, peering past the edge. He could see an exit- a loading bay, it seemed, which had been left half-open much as the massive main entrance had been. A huge shuttered opening. It was framed on either side by two shipping containers. Massive oblongs of painted, corrugated metal.

Holding his breath, the kit snuck to the exit.

As he passed the shipping containers he heard a soft thud right by him, and he came to an abrupt halt, looking around for the predatory adult he thought was nearby.

There was none in sight. Just the dirty, blue width of a metal box.

The kit blinked in confusion. He had heard something that sounded like movement right beside him, but...

It came again. Baffled now, Tai stealthily pressed up against the shipping container's side and listened.

Someone, or something, was crying. In the container. It was muffled, but it was definitely... a young, female voice, weeping softly and hopelessly; he wasn't sure, but it sounded like that voice was not alone in its indistinct lamenting. Mystified, Tai had to smother a sudden impulse to ask who was there. There was a loud scraping sound, and Tai looked back the way he had come. A tall jackal stood where just moments before Tai had crouched behind the forklift. Tai's heart blasted into overdrive before he realized the guy was looking the other way.

In his paws was a firearm of some kind. A rifle or something. The kit was no expert, but he did know what a gun could do. He'd seen it.

With a surge of adrenaline that eliminated all thought, Tai dashed out the open loading bay and was around the side of the building in a mere few seconds, his light paws making little enough sound that his ill-considered rush went unnoticed. He took refuge behind a large semi-trailer, crouching by the vehicle's gigantic front wheel.

He was safe he told himself, leaning weakly on the rough tire that came up to his forehead.

Safe, but out in the open, in the frigid wind, without a shirt. He shivered as the black waters of the sea crashed rhythmically against the concrete of the docks, showering the area in fine droplets - he distinctly felt that gentle mist settle into his fur and bring a very much unwelcome chill with it.

Quickly, Tai realized he couldn't stay out in the wind like this. He'd been in far more severe weather than this, of course, but he knew that even this autumnal night could kill him if he stayed out in it wearing so little. Teeth chattering, the kit looked around for a place of actual shelter, both from those hunting him and the bleak weather that promised to get worse.

Most of the huge buildings around him appeared closed and locked - even if they weren't locked, opening the huge, rusty doors or lifting the impossibly heavy shutters would definitely attract attention. Only two of the warehouses he could see from here seemed to be open. The two he had escaped from recently, oddly enough. He wasn't going back there obviously, but nor could he stay in the courtyard between them.

There was nothing for it. He started to sneak around, looking for a place to go. Ducking by the side of a warehouse, he spotted a small contingent of furs as he approached the brightly lit waterfront, talking animatedly and moving with purpose towards a large, gray ship moored at the water's edge. He decided not to risk heading that way. The danger of being seen was too great.

At least, as he rounded the warehouse and made his way inland, he saw a small building that looked like a little guardhouse. Whenever Tai accompanied his mother to work at the harbor back in Alaska, they had to go past a building just like it, where guards would always ask them to sign in before letting them through.

Feeling hopeful, the kit stole his way to the entrance - it was an odd little building, made of dull concrete, and Tai noticed it was adjacent to a gate in a massive chain-link fence that stretched between the warehouses, blocking off access deeper into the docks. It seemed empty.

First, he checked the imposing gate. At the top was an impenetrable bush of razor-wire, and beyond the twelve-foot fence he could see lights, more warehouses and a forest of those huge shipping containers. The gate itself was chained and locked shut. He briefly felt the cold grip of frustration and fear - he was trapped and lost in this massive place. Climbing the fence would be impossible and once again he couldn't see any end to the complex.

The guardhouse, if indeed that's what it was, was almost certain to be locked. But Tai tried the door anyway.

It swung open.

Trembling just slightly, the kit stepped inside. It was a guardhouse, or something like one, as Tai could eventually make out in the weak light provided by the distant floodlights outside. Near the doorway was a desk, with a phone, kettle, microwave and even a small fridge on its surface, up against a wide window that provided a good view of the area Tai had crossed to get here. Quickly Tai shut the door.

Almost instantly he wanted to collapse with relief. It was much warmer in here, and the wind could no longer reach him.

There was a door leading deeper into the little building, and Tai walked over it to, his wet shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor. It wasn't locked. It seemed that the rest of the small structure was given over to a storage room - which also had a few small lockers in it. There was another small desk, with a television and radio on it. Evidently, some of the dock's security guards retreated in here to relax at break times, as well as stored their belongings here. A few small, high windows let in some light, just enough for Tai to identify the shadowy objects in the room. He briefly paused to watch the dust particles dance in the thin rays of illumination.

At last he shut the door, crossed to the farthest corner of the dimly-lit room... and promptly fell to his backside.

He could hide here, he told himself. He could hide here until he was rescued. It was safe; actually safe.

More importantly, it was warm.

Robert thumped on the thick, varnished door with indelicate urgency. "Mitchell!" he cried through the wooden surface. "Sir, I have to speak to you! Right now!"

The carpeted corridor suddenly flocked with startled furs coming out of offices to glare at the audacious fox, but Robert didn't really care much for propriety right now - 'boss' or not, Robert would kick down the office door if necessary.

Evidently, Mitchell knew this too. "Come in, Robert," he said, his dusty voice sounding weak through the dense door. "Before you do damage to my poor door."

Thrusting the door open, Robert saw his section chief seated behind his gigantic desk - the one that, ever since Robert had met him the first time all those years ago, was ever covered in loose paper and memos, to the point the fox wondered if some of them were just for decoration. On the other side of the capacious bureau was a female lemur, who looked scandalized at the interruption.

"What's the matter?" asked Mitchell, clasping his paws in front of him and leaning on his desk.

"Found them!" Robert said. "They're at the docks. We got a cell-phone trace."

Mitchell frowned in thought, staring blankly at the fox. "I didn't expect this, I admit," he said at last.

"We have to save them!" Even as he said those words Robert realized how absurd they sounded.

The lemur was looking from Robert's pleading face to the bruin's impassive features in confusion.

There was a hiatus while Mitchell seemed to lose himself in thought. "Robert..."

"Please!"

"I'm afraid we can't spare any resources from this office, and I have to go up before a review committee in half an hour."

"Wh-what?!"

"Besides that, there's nothing we can do as long as they are on our own soil. We'll have to defer to the police or FBI for this."

For a startled moment, Robert couldn't comprehend what he heard. If it weren't for that, his response would've been probably far more vindictive. "What?! Th-this is unbelievable! We're talking about two small children that could be killed because of this god-damn agency! I can't believe-"

"You will liaise with the PD, Robert."

Robert stopped and stared at the bruin. "E-excuse me? I'm not qualified for anything like that."

"I can spare very few personnel, Robert. You'll have to do." Mitchell reached for the phone on the polished bureau's surface. "Get ready. I know you've not been active in some time- on the field or otherwise- but tonight you'll have to be. Get back here in ten."

The fox blinked in amazement at the bear as he hit a speed-dial key. "I-I... Shit... thanks... thank you." He swallowed.

"Get a move on, Robert. You have a gun, don't you? Might be an idea to take that. And probably a jacket of some sort. It's cold out."

In just seconds, the fox was sprinting down the corridor.

Tai had no idea how long he'd been asleep. He could hear the ticking of a clock, but he had no clue where it was.

He had nodded off as he lay curled up on the hard linoleum but something had alerted him, jolting him cruelly awake again.

The kit sat dumbly in the dark, trying to clear his swimming head. He just wanted to fall asleep - in this relatively warm, dark place, he could easily manage that. Belatedly he wondered what had woken him. The kit had been sleeping lightly, barely able to cling to somnolence, but he felt himself being called back to it already.

It wasn't until he heard the guardroom door closing that he wrenched himself into full alertness again, shaking his head sharply.

He jumped to his paws and darted, with a child's instinct, under the desk that housed the television and radio in the corner by the lockers.

Squinting into the dim light, he saw that someone had entered his sanctuary, and was busy securing the only exit's deadbolt. A slender beam of light fell upon the intruder. It was a wolf - just shy of six-foot, lean, and coated in a storm-gray fur.

Darron. Of all the...

Tai whimpered, hoping he hadn't been noticed. As the lights flickered on, suddenly bathing the room in unnatural brightness, Darron made his way to a locker not far from the table under which Tai hid so pathetically.

The wolf opened a locker, and rummaged around in there for a minute or so, seeming to be taking his time deliberately. At last, he laughed. Confirming what Tai had feared. "You done fuckin' 'round under there?" he demanded. "Get the fuck out here. We don't got all night."

The harsh voice made him panic. Tai burst from under the table and ran for the door, scrabbling uselessly at the deadbolt way above his head height. Almost instantly he felt his legs kicked from under him, and he was pulled back by his long head-fur.

He slammed backwards onto the linoleum, smacking his head off the floor. There was a thud, and he went still immediately. The ceiling above him spun dimly.

And then Darron was looming over him. "What's the rush?" asked the wolf. "We have a lot to talk about, kid."

Terrified, Tai reached back and felt the base of his aching skull. He tried to scramble backwards, but he immediately collapsed to his back again as the world continued spinning and shaking violently all around him.

Darron knelt beside him. "Or don't you want to know why I had your bitch of a mom killed?"

Tai froze.

The wolf smirked. "I had to wait a little while," he said, almost conversationally. "Make sure I wasn't followed. Thank fuck I got you alone. Saw you slinking along out there--nice moves, you're a natural born sneak. Not one of those dickheads saw you. I can appreciate that."

The kit merely stared up at him, trembling.

"I've wanted to talk to you for so long, Tai. Since before I knew your ass was even alive." The wolf sat down cross-legged. "I didn't know who you were at first, I gotta admit. Couldn't fuckin' believe it at first. You were in my class. What the fuck, huh? Small world."

"M-my mom?" Tai stammered, looking at the wolf uncomprehendingly.

Darron nodded. "Yeah." He snickered. "I feel sorry for you, Tai. A little. You don't know shit. You're in the middle of a fuckin' nightmare and you don't understand it. Just want someone to explain it all, yeah? I know what that's like."

Tai struggled to raise his head. He posted his paw behind him and sat up uneasily. "Wh-what?"

"I even know what it's like to be so fuckin' lost that the best you can do is say stupid shit like 'what.'" Darron shrugged.

"I d-don't understand."

Darron met his eyes at last. Cold, hard amber meeting at last with glistening emerald. "No shit you don't. I'll tell you then. I'll tell you all about the world before you were born. It's the same as the world now, and the way it'll be fifty years from now: a shitty hell-hole where nothing makes sense and all you have is what you'll have to leave behind." He smiled as if discussing something remotely pleasant. "I'll tell you why I had your cunt mother shot like the bitch she was. I know you want to know. I want you to know."

Tai stared in horror at grinning wolf.

This couldn't be happening.

This was a dream...

The water was brackish and stunk to high-hell. Mike had to fight back intermittent waves of nausea, but he was determined to swim deeper into the drain. He had no clue where it went, but it had to be safer than the entrance, or out in the open. That was assuming he didn't drown of course.

It was very difficult progress, holding the waterlogged phone above his head as he went deeper and deeper, but he was managing it. He wasn't sure if the phone-call was still connected. The display was totally gone. But it was his one hope so far, so he held onto it. Even more importantly: the keypad was still lighting up, albeit weakly, and he needed that faint light to see anything at all in the thick darkness.

He was trying desperately not to think about what filth he was swimming in.

Only after a few minutes of constantly swimming into the long drain did he notice it. The water level was rising. Almost imperceptibly, it got higher and higher, and Mike was noticing his head getting closer to the smooth, concrete 'roof' of the drain. He had to move - for all he knew, a high tide could end his life in this disgusting tunnel.

Some water splashed up into his mouth, and he almost puked. "Gah! Crap!" he spluttered, treading water clumsily as he tried to spit the sickening liquid out. "Ugghhh!"

On and on he swam, choosing at random when the tunnel branched in different directions - he had tried to head back in the direction of the open water, but by now, he'd lost his bearings.

When he saw an exit, he struck out for it, swimming for all his worth. It was another grating like the one he'd swum under to get into the system in the first place. When he reached it, the kit placed a paw on the thick metal grate and rested.

"Ohhh," he groaned, looking down at his matted fur in the pale moonlight. "I-I'm gonna smell like sewer for a year after this."

Looking beyond the grating, Mike spotted the imposing hull of a massive cargo ship, docked a mere dozen or so feet from the smelly, dubious sanctuary of the drain. It was painted dull, gunmetal gray, and its name was large on the immense bow in faded, yellow font. It was too difficult to read, and he didn't really care.

Trying to suck in less-fragrant air from the outside, Mike pulled himself closer to the grate. It wasn't much of an improvement, but it was one.

He could see the sky now, just barely, if he looked straight up between the ship and his hiding place. The roiling clouds were at least as turbulent as the waves below, and just as dark. A huge, black cloudbank threatened to smother the pale yellow moon.

It was going to rain. From the looks of it, very heavily.

"Well, that settles that..." Mike whispered to himself. "I'm stayin' right here."

This couldn't be real. He must've fallen asleep in the guardroom. No way...

Darron smiled laconically at him, leaning back much as the tawny fox-boy was, arms posted behind him, as if just relaxing in the sun. Savoring the moment.

"I guess we can start at the beginning," he began at last. "We got the time.

"I ain't actually a Yank. Wasn't born here. I was born in Canada. Way the fuck up north, a few miles from a place called Yellowknife, in a small village - dunno what it was called. You know, we're talkin' fuckin' Yukon Territory shit here. Buncha snowed-in hillbillies." He paused to scratch at the base of one of his pointed ears. "We were poor as shit, that's all I really know. Didn't know my grandparents that well, but they were assholes - I know they didn't like my dad much, whoever he was. My mom was a kid herself. Fourteen years old when I was born. When I was about five, she tried to get away from her parents; they were fuckin' assholes, and if they weren't hitting her, it was me they were getting at instead. Wanted to get as far away as we could... she always wanted to come here. New York."

Tai blinked.

"So she asked around, and one day we met up with these guys. Shady fuckers. They took all our money, everything we owned and even all the shit we stole. Promised my mom and me that they'd take us to the U.S. but that was bullshit." He stopped and snorted a sour laugh. "She shoulda fuckin' known. Got her addicted to smack. They'd, you know, hold her down and stick that shit in; I was watching. At first she tried to stop them, but then they started kickin' my ass around. They wanted me too. I was worth quite a bit, either for shit like they wanted mom for, or a worker or just as a bunch of organs and shit." An angry cloud passed over his face. "Everyone thinks this shit doesn't happen no more. Stupid cunts. I've seen more fat bitches who lost weight on television than stories about this. Guess reality isn't marketable."

The tawny kit stared at him. "I-I don't understand..." he said quietly, hoping speaking wouldn't provoke the wolf.

"I know. It's hard to believe ain't it? They kidnapped mom and me and were gonna sell us as slaves." He smirked and shrugged. "I guess I'm still a slave."

"A-a slave?"

Darron chuckled harshly. "Well... I'm not sure what they wanted to do... I think they were planning on selling me. Renting me first, if you get my meaning. Nah, you don't; you will soon. Then when I got older, sell me - in pieces. If I remember right, the current price for all a kid's organs is about six-hundred-thousand - that's today."

"O-organs?" Tai whispered.

"Yeah, bits of your body, for transplants. For about three years, all I knew was bein' drugged out, bein' beaten and starved and fucking raped in some god forsaken shit-hole down south. When I was about your age, someone bought us. Properly bought us, you know. Got us the fuck out of there." Darron lidded his eyes. "He was in this whole business himself--real big shot. Wanted mom and me for himself. It was better than the shit we'd put up with for years, and we were finally in New York. Went through hell, but we got there, you know?

"The guy promised us a better life, but it was just more bullshit. Mom just wanted to be free, to build a life for us both. One day, some vixen got in contact with her. Said she was CIA; said she'd been tracking all this shit for years before, in Alaska and now down here. Promised her she could help her escape, give us a life, but only if mom gave her all kinds of information. Names, dates, shipping tables. Shit that's not fuckin' easy to get a hold of. But mom got it for her, and gave it all to the vixen one night. Everything."

Darron curled his paws into fists and sat forward. "She'd gone to meet with her. Thought I was in bed. The way it worked was that if one of us went out, the other had to stay behind. So while mom was out, I had to stay - as a fuckin' hostage, you know. But this night, I knew something was goin' on... I had to sneak out and see what was up.

"So when she went to meet with this fox-bitch, I snuck out to follow. I saw my mom give this fox the shit she promised, and five seconds later... she... some kind of CIA assassin shit, I don't know, but this fox... your cunt of a mother... killed her. Threw her to the ground, stuck a knife right in her neck. Didn't think twice."

The wolf's eyes narrowed with terrible hate, and he glared right at Tai. "Your mommy is a fuckin' killer. She took a desperate fur and used her, then got rid of her in a fuckin' second when she was done."

Tai felt lightheaded. "N-no..." he breathed, scampering a few feet away. "No! You can't- No! Mom wouldn't do that! That's not-!"

"I saw it with my own eyes!" growled Darron. "My own fuckin' eyes! That's your mom, kid! Dirty spook cockroach, and I got rid of her like the insect bitch she was!"

Instantly, Tai was on his paws, darting once more at the door. Panicking, he jumped high, ripping the deadbolt to the side and grasping the door's metal handle. Before he could open it more than an inch, Darron grabbed his wrist and pulled him viciously from the doorway.

And delivered a savage uppercut so hard to Tai's solar plexus that the kit's paws actually left the floor.

With a sickened wheeze, the fox kit collapsed, all his strength fleeing his body with his breath.

He managed to look up, and see Darron calmly locking the door again. The big teenager reached down and pulled Tai to his paws again by a skinny wrist, jerking him brutally towards the lockers, away from the door. "Get up. Get the fuck up. I ain't done talking at you yet." Negligently, he pushed Tai to the ground again and leaned on the locker.

"Unh!" gasped Tai, his momentum rolling him hard into the locker as well.

"There's more to the story, shit-head." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a cigarette and lighter. He lit up. "After your killer-mom did mine in, I had nothing. I went crazy. I ran back to the shitty house I was kept in, and told them what happened. Our 'owner' was pretty upset too. Felt sorry for me; adopted me." Darron smirked around the cigarette. "Put me through school and shit. But it didn't mean anything to me. Finally, he got that I didn't give a shit about being normal... not after all this. I mean, how fucked up is that? The asshole thought I'd be a good kid after what I'd gone through. What his kind put me through. He had to keep bailing me out, and I loved it. It was good to see that fuck-bag have to run around cleaning up after me. It was you that changed everything. Chasing your ass through the mall. He had to pull a few strings, and I left school. Who'd a fuckin' thought?"

Tai groaned, trying to curl into a ball. It hurt beyond description. Darron was very powerful; after the dreadful blow, Tai couldn't breathe. Every attempt to do so caused a fresh wave of literally nauseating pain to wash over his insides.

"Now... I work for the family business, know what I mean?" The wolf hocked and spat derisively on the floor. "Fuck it. I don't care anymore. If this is how the world works, then whatever. I'm just glad I'm not under everyone's fuckin' heel anymore. I'm in charge now. Now I'm the one draggin' bitches around to sell. Not a slave no more. You can't change the world, but you can change yourself."

He laughed darkly. "If you get the breaks, that is. But you..." He pushed Tai back against the lockers with one booted heel. "You're going to have to wait for yours. The_bitch_ is dead, but I want more than that. I want to show you what I fuckin' went through. So you can understand, Tai. So you can understand what it meant when we were betrayed by your mom like that. So that you know why."

Darron sneered, reaching into his waistband and withdrawing his pistol. He checked it was loaded. "Come on, little bitch. They won't notice when I stick you in with the others. I'll call it a 'buy ten, get a small one free' special. Lagniappe as they say down south, or some shit. They won't complain." The wolf again reached down and easily pulled the kit up with one hand as if he weighed nothing. "If you've got a problem with that, go ahead and try to run. I'll shoot you in the fuckin' back - it's the sort of thing your mom would do, right?"

Robert pulled his black sports jacket on, adjusting it for several seconds. The locker room was empty, which he was grateful for: nobody to see his paws shaking.

"Doesn't this beat all..." he mused, pulling his handgun from the leather holster on his suspenders. He double-checked the safety, before pulling the slide back. He paused, before sighing and releasing the magazine, extracting the bullet and pushing it back into the magazine - he didn't like having a loaded gun by his vital organs for some reason. "I never thought I'd be wearing this nonsense again."

There was a firm knock on the door behind him, and Robert frowned at it. "Yes?"

"May I come in?" The voice was female.

"Of course," Robert replied, placing the firearm back in its holster. "This isn't a changing room."

The door was pushed open, and the haughty visage of the lemur he'd seen in the section-chief's office stood before him. "Mitchell sent me to find you."

"What's up, Tamara?" Robert asked, suddenly itching with a desire to get moving. "I don't have much ti-"

The lemur held out a manila folder, her expression cold. "I was told to give you this."

Bemused, Robert reached out and took it. He scowled at it for a moment. "What is... Tamara, this has to be a mistake."

"Oh?"

"I have nowhere near that level of clearance." He offered the folder back to her.

Tamara made no move to accept it. "I am aware of that, and I certainly don't approve, but Mitchell is giving you temporary field clearance. Something about you needing to know what you're dealing with, so he's giving you case-specific clearance."

"That's a pretty ominous way of putting it." Robert flicked it open, noticing a blue adhesive note had been stuck to one of the pages. It had nothing written on it, apparently just there to draw attention to that specific page. "What the hell is this?"

"I haven't got a clue, Robert," sighed Tamara. "I want to say, though. I hope your kids are safe."

"Only one of them is mine."

"Oh?"

"So far. That'll change." Robert scanned the page for several moments. "Jesus. Holy shit."

"What is it?" Tamara blinked. "Wait, I can't know. Never mind."

Robert slowly closed the folder. "Th-thanks, Tamara..." he breathed, looking slightly distressed. "I'll, uh, have to review this. I'll return it directly to Mitchell. After the operation."

"What?" Tamara asked.

Slipping past the lemur, Robert nodded. "I'm not sure the police will-- This is..."

Tamara watched the fox as he began to jog down the corridor. After a moment, he upgraded to a full-blown sprint. Sighing, the lemur stepped out after him, allowing the locker-room door to slam shut behind her.

"Huh. Good luck then."

Darron threw the cub ahead of him, pulling him forward by the wrist. "Stop draggin' your paws, Tai," he said wearily. "Or I'll fuckin' drag you by them."

Tai stumbled, banging a knee on the cold, wet bitumen. He vainly struggled to push the powerfully built teenager's paw off his arm - Darron's grip overlapped, encircling his skinny forearm easily. No such luck, and Darron kept pulling his helpless captive along.

"No!" Tai pleaded, starting to panic again. "Don't do it! Please, Darron! I'm sorry about what my mom did! I didn't-"

Bad choice of words. Darron lashed out violently, slamming his fist once again into Tai's stomach, doubling him over as if he'd run the boy through. "What the fuck are you talkin' about, huh? You're sorry?" He grasped the kit by the scruff of his neck and started to pull him along. "I don't give a shit. This ain't about you anymore. It's about me. My show, shit-head. My show."

Well over a minute passed before Tai could breathe and move again, and by then the side of a massive ship was in view. A stark gunmetal hull loomed before them, and Darron was cruelly dragging Tai towards it by the back of his neck.

As they were passing a warehouse, Tai's legs buckled and he let himself sag. His dead weight was dragged along for a few more feet, before Darron sighed. He released the kit.

Immediately, Tai pulled himself to his hands and knees, trying to scramble away. Darron kicked him fiercely in the ribs.

The boy screamed, hurled sideways by the force of the kick, and curled up on the hard bitumen again to clutch at his side.

"I'll never get why furs do that," said Darron conversationally. "Why the fuck would you think dropping to the floor is a good idea?"

Tai wasn't listening. His eyes were pinched tightly closed and he was sobbing in pain.

This was impossible, he realized as the teenager once again loomed over him. There was no escape. Darron was too strong, and he could hurt him far too much.

"You're pissing me off, Tai." Darron grabbed Tai's head-fur and pulled him up. Screeching in pain, the fox boy scrambled to his paws. "I guess I'll just have to work it out with you. If you won't come quietly, I'll just make you quiet."

That was the extent of the warning. He gripped Tai's nape and drove a fist into his body again. With a yelp, Tai crumpled - but Darron was nowhere near finished yet. He entwined the tawny head-fur with his big paw, pulling the kit's head upwards again. He slapped the boy once, as hard as he might try to punch a fully-grown adult. The wolf grinned when his victim's legs buckled again as a result.

Finally Darron shoved the lightweight kit using both paws, as hard as he could.

Tai went soaring backwards. He slammed into the warehouse's concrete wall with a bone-jacking thud, and slithered lifelessly down.

Laughing, Darron bent to pick the wounded kit off the ground. "It's a pity you're going on this cruise, shit-head. We could've had so much fun. I could do this all day. I guess I gotta be happy with others doing it for me. You'll learn your lesson, like I did."

He dragged Tai onwards towards the boat, not even caring that the boy couldn't find his footing any more. The kit was quiescent now, just moaning and sniffling piteously to himself.

That just steeled Darron's resolved even more. If the yellow-furred freak thought he was feeling sorry for himself now, he was going to shatter when he felt what Darron had once dealt with. What he had to endure. Fresh anger boiled up within him, the wolf pulled the kit onward.

"D-Darron..." whimpered Tai. But the teenager wasn't listening. He started struggling weakly again as they approached a raised walkway - a wide metal gangplank that bridged the thirty feet drop to the churning waters. Darron ignored that as he had ignored the words.

As they started to cross the metal bridge, Darron's phone started to ring. "Ah. Fucking hell." He pushed Tai to the metal surface by his head, smirking with grim satisfaction as the fox-boy's skull made a sharp clunk on impact. The wolf took out his phone. "Shit. Stay quiet a sec, would ya, Tai?" He absently pushed the kit onto his side with one boot, and raised the phone to his ear. "What?"

As Darron started to talk, Tai lay on the floor, stunned and hurting. Of course, he had been hurt before, but this was... he could feel blood seeping through his head-fur. His sight was foggy and his head hurt beyond belief--he didn't know if it was all from the shove into the wall, or down to the plank. The time between those two events had totally bled together. He had never felt anything like this before.

He felt hopeless. His body was just heavy, and hurt all over, and he wanted to give up, go to sleep, right then and there. To surrender and hope for rescue. He didn't want to think about what Darron was going to do to him. It was just... what was going on? Was this a nightmare? Could it be possible to feel so much pain in a dream?

Tai looked out over the edge of the docks. He could hear the waves below; the black, cold sea. Darron's voice faded, melting into the gentle rushing sound of the water.

He wanted to just... go to sleep. He wanted...

What did he want? Who cared? Nobody ever did.

He felt suddenly disgusted at himself; and angry. Helplessly angry.

There was never anything he could do, nothing he could change. He could never stand up for himself, could never look after himself. He cried. He avoided, he fled. It's what he did best. All he could do and he didn't even do it that well. Now even that didn't seem possible. Even if he got away from Darron, he was too sore and tired. He'd just be caught again if he tried to run.

In all the movies he had seen, all the stories, all the comics he had read, the hero won the day no matter how ridiculous the challenges were; for whatever reason, be it determination born from vengeance, righteousness or love or just his brute strength. But Tai had nothing right now - no determination or anything. He felt like he was already dead. So what was the point of fighting to stay alive? And what good was determination when you weren't strong enough?! There are just some bridges you can't cross, no matter how much you want to.

There was no standing up for himself. He stood up, they knocked him back down. That's just how it always had been, and eventually he had learned: he wasn't strong or smart and he definitely wasn't brave enough to fend for himself. Every time he tried, he just made things worse and worse! All he could do was pray he'd eventually be left alone, when they had had their fun.

But this was different. Darron wasn't trying to merely bully him, or hurt him for mere momentary satisfaction. This was beyond anything he'd ever imagined, and he was too stunned to fully accept it was reality.

All the nonsense, all the pretty-sounding phrases he had heard suddenly came down on him like a rockslide of bitterness. 'Advice' from people who had never felt what he'd felt, never been where he had been.

Stand up to the ring leader? Even after summoning up the courage, that wasn't the same as summoning up the strength.

The bigger they are, the harder they fall? Yes, and the harder it is to get them to fall. And the harder they hit you.

Ignore them so they go away? It is hard to ignore someone dumping a container of glue on your head. Deliberately trying to break you for hours on end, every weekday. Each time the sun came up, all you could think about was them... what they were going to do next.

Ignore them? No. They dominated Tai's mind - even miles away, in a warm bed at night, they could freeze his heart with fear. There was no sanctuary. Because he knew that no matter how hard he wished for it to never come, nothing could stop the sun from rising.

... Tell adults? They didn't care. Nobody helped Tai. Nobody cared about him. Except for Mike and his dad. Maybe.

And now Tai was faced with the ultimate monster of all his nightmares. Darron was too powerful to overcome, too driven to dissuade and there was nobody he could run to. He couldn't escape. He couldn't...

It just made no sense. How did things come to this? How did he get here? Why had his life suddenly gone crazy?

That day Darron and his friends chased him through the mall had been scary, but this was a different wolf entirely. Something had changed him in those few weeks. Or was this just the truth? The real Darron?

In a madness born of desperation and stupidity, he had leapt off a roof-top parking lot to escape the first Darron he met. This one was even more terrifying. Colder, more determined... and worst of all, he had finally got his paws on Tai - a tired, cold and hurting Tai. It was all over.

It took some time for him to realize it.

Darron did not have his paws on him right now.

And he really wanted to see Mike one last time. A little part of him knew he didn't really want to go to sleep yet.

Something inside him just screamed at him. Screamed at him to move. Ignoring the pain as best he could, the tawny kit braced himself, propping his arms and feet very slowly... Darron didn't seem to notice. He was paying more attention to his cell phone than the wounded fox kit. He thought Tai was down and out. That he had surrendered. He was almost right. Almost.

"What would Mike think if I gave up here?" he thought; that soft voice in the back of his aching skull. The voice that suddenly reprimanded him in tones very much like those of a brown-furred fox boy. "Mike would never give up here!" it whispered angrily at him. "He never gives up! Don't I wanna be like him?" He paused. Something impossible came to mind, something absurd, but it was something he suddenly believed with all his heart: "I bet Mike'd think I could do this!!"

He knew what he had to do. There was only one way from here, and he only had seconds to act. He had to do the last thing in the world he wanted to do. He had to do it. Had to believe that he'd be okay. Like it had been the last time.

Tai closed his eyes tightly. His heart-rate started to climb. It helped. He was scared, but that helped. His body began to tremble, but he knew he couldn't let that stop him.

He had to try. One last time. Maybe Mike was right about him. Maybe Tai had something in him the kit hadn't noticed yet. Even if he didn't, giving up was just stupid, and Mike, his best friend ever, would've told him so. What did he have to lose by trying?! If he gave up, he'd lose all he had now. It wasn't much. But it was something.

Darron growled, frustration in his voice. "I don't fuckin' know where Marco is," he snapped into the phone. "I told him to leave me alone for a bit, and he fucked off somewhere I don't... what?!"

Willing everything he had left into his legs, Tai quickly hauled himself to a crouch.

And with a wild cry, dived off the walkway, to the dark waves two dozen feet below.

"What the shit?!" yelled Darron, dropping his phone and making a futile grab for the kit's ankle. He missed, and the phone bounced off the metal gangway, following the kit down to the grimy water. There was a loud splash as the fox boy hit the water like a forty pound stone.

A second passed, and Darron stared unseeingly, incredulously, at the water's surface. It was too dark. The boy had disappeared; sunk into the shadows. "You mother_fuckeeeeer_!!" he screamed hysterically, pulling out his pistol. The teenage wolf scanned the water, hoping for just one sign of movement, one excuse to shoot into the darkness. "God-fucking-damn-iiiiiit!"

He hyperventilated, glaring at the darkness, and shaking in maddened fury.

Robert felt nervous, to say the least.

He had never been in charge of any sort of field operation before. Of any live operation, really. He'd barely had anything to do with them - his experience was as an analyst. That involved office work, too much coffee and boredom as a general rule.

But he had to rise to the occasion as much as possible. A small group of furs had joined him in an otherwise deserted room, some form of surveillance hub room, and he was now apparently in charge of them - he doubted that any of them could possibly have less experience than him in this. There were about eight furs in total.

"Alright," he said uncertainly to them as they looked at him expectantly, lounging about idly or tapping the edges of keyboards at their chairs. "I'll come clean with you all. I have no bloody idea what I'm doing. I'm a pencil-pushing desk-jockey, but Mitchell says he has no experienced, or appropriate, staff to do this - and I have a personal interest in the matter." He paused. "So please. Help me as much as you can. All I can do is tell you what needs doing, and I'll need you to help me get it done. Please."

A few of the furs' expressions changed to ones of curiosity, and they all nodded.

Robert swallowed, his tongue suddenly parched. "At twenty-one-hundred hours yesterday, my ten-year-old son was kidnapped, along with his best friend. The suspected perpetrators are... a syndicated crime organization; mostly smugglers. Possibly the biggest ring in North America."

"Let me guess," murmured one of Robert's team - a short squirrel in a white shirt and black pants, sporting wire-frame glasses. "The big three. Drugs, guns and folk."

Robert lidded his eyes. "...Yes." He stopped and stared at the manila folder still lying on the desk beside him. "I've never heard of this group before today. But I've been authorized to brief you as much as necessary, and thank Christ too. These people have targeted my family, and the family of another agent, for years - I'm not entirely sure why they kidnapped these children, but the chance that they won't kill them or... sell them, is pretty much nothing.

"These guys are ruthless and definitely big-timers. They're bringing in military grade weapons and millions of dollars of narcotics every year, as well as kidnapping dozens every year. They have ties to terrorism in Europe as well as here in the States. Apparently, we don't even officially acknowledge these guys exist - and our operations regarding them are literally top-secret. So congratulations, you just learned something top-secret today."

His team stared at him, and the fox smiled tautly. "My son managed to escape, at least... he did. We don't know his status now. But he managed to make a cell-phone call, and we know the rough location of where they're being held. The docks downtown."

"Hold on," mumbled the squirrel. "You're thinking of trying to rescue them?"

"Of course. We don't have a team on standby, and it'd take hours to organize a large enough one anyway. We'll need to cooperate with local P.D. and Coast Guard." Robert fixed the squirrel with a polite smile. "That's one of the things I'm really hoping you'll help me with."

The squirrel frowned. "I... uh... well, it's pretty irregular. Never really done anything like this."

"But what are we supposed to do?" asked a gruffly voiced coyote. "The P.D. could handle this by itself."

"We're to oversee the operation as well as provide support," Robert continued, standing. "After all, the police can't go in without information, and the docks are a big place - that's our job, isn't it?"

"We're going to run the op?" asked another of the team. "We're... I-I don't think we can do that."

"Setting this up will take time," complained yet another. "We don't have any directive or jurisdiction to be conducting these sorts of operations, let alone taking over what should be a matter for the cops or feds - at least nobody here does. This sort of thing is what the FBI deals with, or we'd deal with the FBI."

Robert stood. "It'd take far too long for the FBI to bring up their hostage rescue teams; we have to work with the local police. I'm not leaving this in the paws of the feds, it's going to take long enough to organize this as it is and they don't have our surveillance resources on hand. So let's get going, I don't want these hostages to stay in danger for more than is necessary." He picked up the manila folder, brandishing it at the team meaningfully.

"Let's get something clear," he said softly. "This is the first proper lead we've had on these bastards - we've never been able to catch them with their trousers down before, but now we've got them in the middle of a possible shipping operation and we have possible witnesses. We're not passing this up, we're not just handing this over to some other agency, and if you want directives and jurisdiction, I've got them. They're one phone call to Mitchell's office, or to fucking Langley if necessary. The police and FBI will play ball when I get the director breathing down their neck. This is our catch." The big fox paused. "Besides, my kids are at stake, so screw the rules."

He turned to a large whiteboard position just beside his desk.

"Let's break this down. I'm going to need all of you to get some things done here before we can even contact the police. I'm afraid we're going to be up all night. Call your wives, forget your social lives."

It took effort, actual effort, to wake up. It was like swimming, dizzied and confused, through the thickest, blackest tar.

And yet nothing but more blackness greeted him. His eyes rolled around dazedly, but he saw nothing.

His other senses took a little more time to organize themselves. To become coherent to him. Firstly, he noticed an odd sensation that seemed to cover most of his body, but was particularly concentrated in the back of his head and the left side of his ribcage.

It felt vaguely familiar, but it was different somehow.

Then he heard noises. At first it was a meaningless rush, a muffled hiss, but soon he noticed it was a voice, overlaid with the sounds of what seemed to be lapping water. What was it saying?"

"... Oh come on, come on!" it suddenly wailed. It was close to him. "Please! Taaaiii! Wake up! Please!"

The voice was very familiar. Despite the smothering darkness he floated in, it made him feel happy just to hear it, but the voice itself didn't sound very pleased. What did it mean, 'wake up?'

"Tai, please don't die! Wake up!"

He tried to respond, but all he managed was a weak moan.

The voice gasped. "T-Tai?! A-are you...? Are you alright? Come on!"

"M-Mike?" Tai finally croaked, recognizing the speaker at last. "Wh-what...?"

"Oh my god!" Mike exhaled, right near his ear. "I th-thought-! A-are you alright?"

Now his mind started to focus, and the sensation that had baffled him before made sense to him now.

It was pain. Sheer unadulterated pain, of an intensity he'd never felt before. At least not to his memory.

"Unh!" he groaned, trying to put a paw to his ribs, but he couldn't, not yet. He was too weak. Too dizzy still. "Oohhhh..."

Mike almost fainted. He had been struggling to keep aloft in the water for the longest time - he had no idea exactly how long. It had been exhausting, supporting the smaller kit's weight like that. For all that time... he didn't know if he was cradling a corpse or not. In the darkness he couldn't hear any breathing. Couldn't feel any warmth.

But now he felt drained. Just the intensity of the relief was overwhelming.

He started to sink, his aching legs finally going still, but when he realized the water was lapping dangerously nearing Tai's face he snapped back into focus. Barely.

"M-Mike, what happened?" Tai whispered. "How did you...?"

"You... fell into the water. I barely saw you. You almost smashed right into the side of that boat! What the heck happened?!"

Tai tried to take a deep breath in spite of the pain in his side. "Y-you mean the ship?"

"Yeah." Mike clutched the boy in his arms tightly and sobbed. "I thought you were dead!"

Tai winced and cried out sharply. "AHH! Mike, don't squeeze! D-don't squeeze!"

"What's wrong?!" Mike's voice was shrill. "Are you hurt?"

Pointlessly, Tai nodded. "Y-yeah, my r-ribs hurt! Don't squeeze me, please!"

"Okay! I'm sorry!" Mike sniffed. "Shit! Are you alright? Will you be okay? What happened - was it just the fall?!"

Tai opened his mouth to reply, but stopped. What had happened again? Why had he fallen-?

The kit stiffened, flailing suddenly in the water, ignoring a jolt of searing agony as it frazzled through his body. "MIKE!" he cried, splashing madly as he tried to right himself. "We've got to go! We can't stay here!"

"Tai, don't!" Mike hissed at him, trying to avoid the kit's thrashing limbs. "You'll hit your head! What's wrong?!"

Tai clutched a pawful of Mike's clothing, supporting himself on the bigger boy as he looked around wildly. They were in some kind of tunnel, he saw at last, and they were right near a latticed entrance; beyond it, the weak moonlight illuminated the gunmetal hull of the ship Darron was leading him to before he leapt from the gangplank. Panicking, he tried to swim away from it, dragging Mike with him.

"Stop!" Mike said firmly, bringing him up short with a simple tug on his arm. "What're you doing?! If we go deeper in there we'll get lost and we'll drown! What's wrong with you?!"

His eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and when Tai turned to him, he could see the cub's expression was one of unthinking fright.

"We can't stay here, Mike!" Tai pleaded, treading the water with the panicky floundering of an inexperienced swimmer. "He's coming! He knows I landed down here!"

"Who?!" Mike asked in bewilderment, looking back at the lattice. "What're you talking about?"

"Darron!" Tai once more struck out for the shadowy depths of the drainage system, but Mike refused to let go. "Please Mike! He's crazy! I know what he wants now! If he finds us, h-he'll k-kill you and make me a slave! He's-!"

Mike shook his head. "What the heck do you mean? A slave?! There are no slaves any more. Tai, what are you talking about?!"

"I'll tell you later! We've gotta go! Let's go! Please Mike, he's gonna kill us! Don't make me stay here!"

"No! If we get lost in there we'll die, Tai!"

"Oh please, don't stay here, Mike, he'll kill you! I don't want to--" Tai's voice was hysterical now, and his eyes betrayed absolute terror. He was gesturing wildly, tugging urgently on Mike's clothing and fur. "He saw me jump down here, and he's crazy - he's gonna kill you!! He doesn't want you, he's after me! Please, we have to go! Please!!"

"Y-you jumped?!" Mike asked incredulously. "Tai! What the heck is going on?!"

"I can't! I can't! We have to go! Anywhere but here or he'll find us and I don't want him to find us! I don't want to be a slave! PLEASE let's goooo!" The kit was starting to cry, and his breathing was worryingly rapid now.

"Tai, we'll drown if we--"

"Please! Mike, I don't wanna--!"

"No! Look--!"

"Please, Mike, come on, we can't..." Tai trailed off into a rambling whimper, pulling even more urgently on the older kit.

It was too much. "SHUT UP!" Mike screamed fiercely. He roughly pulled Tai close. "Just shut up, Tai! You're not even listening! You're not making any bloody sense!!" His hazel eyes started to burn, tears pooling in them. "None of this makes any fucking sense! Why won't you grow up for two minutes and listen?! It's your fault! We're here because of you, so shut up and listen!" The sodden kit hung his head, his voice strained and breaking. "I just want out of here... don't... don't make this hard, Tai. I don't want to drown in some drain pipe. Please, just be quiet. Listen to me. Just listen."

Silence.

"I just want to go home to dad. I don't want anything to do with this..."

Crying softly, Mike raised his head.

Tai had recoiled. His glistening eyes were wide open, and he had turned away slightly as if expecting Mike to strike him. As if Mike had turned into a monster. His long, matted head-fur curtained his face, and he was whimpering piteously. Scared.

Awkwardly they stared at one another for several moments, before Mike yanked Tai even closer, snaring the cringing kit in an embrace, supporting both of them in the water.

"I'm sorry!" he quavered, resting his cheek on Tai's skinny neck. "I'm sorry! I just need you to listen, okay? Calm down and listen. We won't get out of here if we're all panicky. I'm sorry."

Tai sniffled and started to cry again. They said nothing for several minutes, gathering themselves.

"Al-alright," Tai eventually assented, trying to dry up. He had no choice at this point but to lean on Mike - in every way. Nor did he want the bigger boy to yell at him again. "Wh-what do you think we should do? B-because, Mike... he knows we're here..."

Mike separated them slightly. It was difficult to hold the limp Tai afloat like this, but he was managing somehow. "Tai... the docks are huge. We... won't get out of here. Not if you're hurt."

"Wh-what do you think we should do?"

"Hide." Mike swallowed. "W-we gotta hide. In the morning we'll be able to escape - I don't think these people will be here in the morning. They aren't real dockworkers." He paused. "I h-hope. Anyway, dad had to know we're at the docks. He'll call the police or something."

"How does he know?"

"The phone." Mike sighed, looking at the lattice. He had wedged the damaged device there. "But it's broken now. When... you pushed me into the water."

Tai closed his eyes guiltily.

"B-but you might be right," Mike said grudgingly. "If Darron knows you're down here... give me a second... can you tread water here?"

Tai nodded, wincing as he tried to push away. Mike swam over to the lattice, picking up the phone. He pressed a key, and a weak bleep later the keypad lit up. Barely.

"We can use this for light," Mike explained, dubious. "It's pitch black. I don't know if I'll be able to help you along in there. Do you know if we get high-tide in the morning or night or whenever? I don't remember."

Tai frowned, slowly splashing his way to the side of the concrete tube, resting on it. He clutched at his side, wincing. "Ah! I-I don't remember. I think we get it at night, because of the moon's gravity."

"Alright... maybe the worst is..." Mike stopped and closed his eyes. "No. It-it's gonna rain still. Will that make the water go higher?"

"Yeah, I think so..."

Mike swore. "Tai. If we go that way, we really could drown."

There was a brief pause, and Mike heard Tai's breathing get audibly rapider again. The kit nodded urgently, before hissing in pain again. The brief surge of adrenaline had helped him forget it, but now the soreness in his side was redoubled, and he felt his torso start to cramp up. Even breathing was bringing sharp jabs of pain.

"You're scared of water, aren't you?" Mike asked gently. "That's what it was earlier."

"I-I'm afraid of drowning..." admitted Tai, moving even closer to the concrete surface of the drain, trying to brace against it.

"Sure you don't want to try going out there?"

Tai looked beyond him at the black waters past the lattice. He wanted even less to be out there. It was closer to his nightmare image; closer to the bad dreams that haunted his earlier childhood. He remembered the thick, ominous clouds, and the portent of heavy rain that they were, and that made it even worse. But it was safer out there, wasn't it? Despite how he felt, it had to be safer than the murky labyrinth of these drainage pipes.

Just as he was starting to see the merit in Mike's words a harsh grating noise suddenly erupted over the rushing and rustling of the waves. It was some distance away, but it was getting closer.

"What is that?" Mike asked, peering out of the rusted grating.

But Tai recognized it. "Mike! That's a boat! A powerboat!"

"You think... it might be Darron?"

"It could be!! It doesn't even have to be him! Anyone that works for him is just as bad!"

"Crap!" Mike whimpered, holding the water-damaged handset above his head and swimming back to Tai. "Okay. I guess it's too dangerous out there. We... we'll try the drain-tunnels. I think I remember some of the way I came... maybe we can get somewhere safer."

Tai nodded, shaking all over.

"Tai... if you think you're getting tired, lemme know, okay? Maybe you can hang on my back or something, I don't know." Mike looked one last time out the lattice. A light suddenly swept the water and hull of the massiveboat beyond it. "Alright... yeah, they're checking here. Come on."

He kicked out towards the blackness, trying not to think about what they were going to be risking here.

This was stupid. They could die.

"Come on, Tai!" he hissed, noticing the younger boy seemed to be paralyzed. "We've gotta go."

Tai didn't move. He was trembling, and staring blankly at the surface of the water.

"Tai!" Mike touched his shoulder briefly, and the kit jumped sharply. "I won't let you drown. You know I'm a good swimmer, right?"

After a moment, Tai inclined his head, smiling weakly. "I-I know."

"Trust me." Then the barky-furred kit laughed, trying to feign the confidence that he had no chance of dredging up at this point. "You got us out of that room. You were awesome, Tai. Now it's my turn!"

They'd only gone a few minutes into the dark, briny network before Tai caved in.

"Ah!" he yelped. "Mike, stop!"

The older fox-boy stopped pulling himself through the water and turned. "What's wrong?"

"I can't keep up!" Tai sobbed, resting on the side of the tunnel. "My side hurts too much."

Mike grimaced. They couldn't tarry. The water was rising already, and he was fairly sure it hadn't even begun raining. But he needed a break too; the tunnel was pitch black, and holding the phone aloft made swimming quite tiring. There was no way he'd be willing to go on without the phone's light - there were... the water wasn't clean. Foul unidentifiable things were floating on the murky surface, and the light allowed them to avoid whatever they were. The thought of going on without the light made him baulk. Another reason to not dawdle, as the device was clearly nearing its end.

"We can't wait too long, Tai."

"I know. I'm sorry, Mike..." Tai gasped, looking like he was about to be sick. "It hurts really badly."

"What happened?"

"Darron. H-he kicked me. It hurts when I move my arm." Tai held his breath, clutching at his ribs. "Unnhh!"

This was bad. "Are you okay? We can't wait here!"

"I'll try... please give me a second... I'm trying... I'll be alright."

Mike shook his head. "Put your arms around my neck," he insisted. "I'll pull you along."

"B-but-!"

"Come on!"

Reluctantly, perhaps embarrassed, Tai encircled Mike's neck and held on loosely. He was hurt; Mike could feel it. There was no strength in the way the kit tried to hold on, clutching his own wrist. Whatever Darron had done to him had ruined the gentle kit. Mike swore quietly.

It was slower this way, but that was exactly the problem before - Tai had been trying to keep up with a bigger boy who had more swimming medals than Tai had t-shirts, while badly injured. The pace Mike set before was just not appropriate while Tai was hurt.

They pressed on. Tai rested his head on Mike's shoulder, and seemed to be almost asleep in minutes. He was exhausted.

But when Mike paused to catch his breath, the tunnel before him peeling off into two directions, Tai shifted slightly.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered.

"What? What's wrong?" Mike touched the smaller boy's forearm. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry... it's my fault. And now you're carrying me..."

"Don't worry about it." Mike chose a direction at random. It was all he could do.

Ten, twenty minutes. Longer. They couldn't be sure. Mike dragged them both around the stinking tunnels, randomly turning or continuing on ahead, hoping they'd reach some form of exit. But they were lost. He tried to push it from his mind, to just press on, but... they were lost now. He'd only taken a little while to get from the entrance, where Tai had shoved him into the water, to where he had once again fortuitously reunited with him. He'd been swimming aimlessly around now for longer than that.

Once again the tunnel branched before him, and he stopped to rest on the side of the tunnel. He looked up. His paw, holding up their only light source, was less than the span of his forearm from the top of the drain. His head was about a foot from it now, and with every ebb and flow, every time the water lapped gently against his neck and shoulders, he seemed to get higher. Their time was likely running out.

Mike peered into the darkness. It might have been illusion, or a reflection of the phone's light, but he thought that he saw some light down one of the tunnels. A weak glow that barely illuminated the concrete as it twisted off further into the labyrinth.

"Mike?" groaned Tai. "Are we okay?"

Striking out, Mike grunted. "I dunno. But we have to hurry."

As they approached the bend, Mike's heart leapt. It was no optical illusion, but rather there was definitely a light. As they swam on, it got brighter, and the dark tunnel started to become illuminated, the walls glittering faintly as the light reflected.

"Alright!" Mike exulted quietly, pressing on. The tunnel was starting to slope gently upwards now. "I think we're almost out, Tai!"

Tai just exhaled weakly in response.

Mike gasped. "There's the exit!"

The tunnel continued to slope up, and Mike's shod paws touched the floor of it at last. He pulled himself and Tai forward. The tunnel opened out, and the water level dropped, until at last the drainage pipe evened out.

Stumbling, Mike dragged them out into the open space the tunneled ended at. It was some sort of concrete vault - an area of fifteen, twenty feet at most, with dull gray concrete walls, adorned by wet algae and blackened moss. The floor was even less appealing, where the concrete had been colored a nauseating green by the oozing waters that streamed from barred ducts along the far wall, and indefinable substances clumped in the corners of the room. Mike baulked. They had just been swimming in the run-off from this room.

The light he had seen was from a handful of orange strips on the walls, protected by thick, waterproof plastic. Along one of the walls was written 'Drainage Access - Point A.' Only a foot from there was an iron ladder, thin, rusted rungs that lead up to a small alcove, barely twelve feet up. The exit.

Gently, Mike set Tai on his feet. "Tai, are you alright?"

The kit opened his eyes, blinking several times. "No," he answered honestly, stumbling. Mike held him upright. "Ah! Ow!"

"Sorry! Can you walk?"

Tai took a few uncertain steps. "I-I think I'm okay."

"Okay. We can't stay here either. They'll be sure to check here." Mike turned and scanned the grimy room. "I don't wanna stay here anyway." He strode over to and clambered up the ladder. "Unh. Let's see what we got here."

Easily he hauled himself up to the alcove. A heavy metal door barred the way. Frowning, Mike reached out and took the handle.

It barely budged. Mike repositioned, placing both paws on the handle. "Nyah!" he grunted, shoving downwards.

There was a dull thunk, and the door started to creak open.

Grinning, Mike turned and looked down into the access room. "Tai, come on! This is the way!"

"A-alright. I'm coming."

The shirtless Tai climbed the ladder with some difficulty. Halfway up, his wet soles slipped and he almost fell from it. He yelped aloud and barely managed to cling to a rung.

Mike darted to the edge. "Are you alright?"

Whimpering, Tai merely nodded and continued to climb. Mike briefly considered asking to help him up, but he didn't think he could, not with one of Tai's arms in pain.

"I wonder where we are?" he murmured instead, trying to take the kit's mind off the pain. "Like, in the docks. I don't think we're out yet."

"We're not out yet?" groaned Tai, collapsing over the edge onto the alcove. "Ow!"

Mike knelt and took the smaller kit's paw in his own. "C'mon, Tai. We're doing great." He paused. "Do you have any idea how crazy it is? That we're getting away like this?"

Tai looked at him, bemused. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"We're escaping, Tai!" Mike giggled. "We got kidnapped by gangsters, and we're getting away from them by ourselves!"

Tai slowly started to smile. He still looked exhausted, though Mike was glad to see a sign of positivity from him. "I guess."

Mike smiled. "Don't give up, okay?" Helping Tai to his feet again, he turned and peered through the doorway.

It was a dark, barely lit corridor, scarcely five foot wide and not even twice that in length. At the end, a handful of stairs led up to a wooden, interior door. Maintenance corridors, Mike guessed. He had never been in one, anywhere, before. Even at the pool or the apartment building where he lived there were locked corridors, narrow passages and ducts tucked away into unused corners and crannies that seemed to be never traversed. When he asked his dad about them, he explained that they usually led to things like air-ducting, vents, or places where they could do work on the electrical system. They had always piqued his natural, youthful curiosity, truth be told.

Together, the kits headed to the door. Luckily, it was also unlocked, and they snuck on into the corridors.

"Mike, where are we?" asked Tai, his voice shaky. He looked up at the roof. Thick piping snaked its way along the ceiling, and hanging in large, metal cages occasionally jutting from the wall there were whirring, vented fans. It was dark. Barely any light whatsoever - evidently, these hallways were not often walked.

"No idea..."

They turned a corner and descended some stairs into yet another darkened room. This one was filled with yet more steadily humming fans. Frowning, Mike approached the far wall.

"What's that?" Tai enquired, following him.

The brown furred boy squinted at the grimy fixtures. A black square on the wall, as wide and long as he was tall, with small white boxes, colored switches and levers. "These are fuses..." mumbled Mike. "What's it say over here? Something about... breaking? Breaker?"

Standing on his tip-toes, Tai tried to scan the board. "I can't read what it says up there."

"'Push To Close'? Huh?" Mike stepped back. "I can't read it either. Something about emergencies. Come on. Whatever this is, it's not getting us out of here."

Mike pressed on, pushing aside a heavy fire-door and continued into the next room. He stopped dead.

"The heck is that?" he gasped to the younger cub.

Now they found themselves in a large, cluttered room, ringed by a walkway not ten feet above them. The center of the room was occupied by a gigantic green machine, longer than it was wide, bigger even than a school bus. It was bulbous and rounded at the sides, but it narrowed towards the center. Railing surrounded it, and a sign read 'WARNING: Dangerous Machinery' by a control panel. Dials and lights littered the panel, but they lay unmoving and dulled.

"It's a generator!" Tai exclaimed. "It makes electricity!"

"It's huge, that's what it is." Mike approached the control panel. "Wait a sec! Tai, if there's a generator here, d'you think there might be phones or anything like that? There's gotta be, right?"

Tai looked at him, rubbing himself down. His torso was matted and filthy, and he clearly didn't like it. Mike knew how he felt. "Uh... I-I don't know, Mike. Maybe?"

"There's gotta be!" Mike clapped his paws. "They'd need phones if there was a problem or anything. Let's look around. Maybe we can get help."

"Okay." Tai shivered. "Unh. I'm cold."

They had to do something about that, Mike realized. Even he was starting to feel the chill on his wet body, and he was fully clothed. Perhaps there was something here.

There was another dirty stairway heading up to the walkway. Mike gestured for Tai to follow, and they mounted it.

"Geez, I wonder what it's like when it's turned on..." Mike mused, looking out over the railing at the massive iron machine. "I've never seen a generator before. Is there like electricity and lightning and stuff? Is it even safe to be in the room?"

"That's a big one," whispered Tai. "Some of them are real small. Ours wasn't dangerous unless you touched the inside, but mom never let me near it."

A monitoring room overlooked the generator. The door was ajar, and Mike slipped into it. "Quick, let's find a phone or something."

The room was clean, but it didn't seem to have been used much. Papers were laid in neat stacks by another control panel, and slotted into pigeonholes on the wall. A locked, metal filing cabinet occupied the corner.

But there was no phone visible in the room.

"Damn," grunted Mike. "You see anything?"

Tai moved the stack of paper to the side. "No..."

"I guess we'll just hide here then." Mike shrugged. "No big deal, right? We'll be fine in the morning." He eyed Tai critically. "We need to get you somewhere warm."

Tai nodded immediately.

"Let's keep looking around though... might be able to find a warmer room. I dunno. Some place where we can turn on the lights, or something. Lights make heat."

Taking Tai in hand, Mike led them around the walkway. He started to feel a little uneasy; Tai was stumbling along behind him, still holding his side, and his grip was loose.

The walkway led to another series of corridors. Mike pressed on, looking for a door that wasn't locked or chained shut. They'd traded one labyrinth for a drier one. An improvement, Mike supposed. At least it was brighter in these corridors, though not by much. The occasional naked bulb or weak, yellow strip was an improvement over pitch darkness, and the water-damaged phone was...

Sighing, Mike withdrew it from his pants and checked it. The device was dead now. Their tracking device was gone, basically, as was their emergency light.

But that was alright, he felt. Once they found a warm, hidden place to take refuge, they could sleep. Rest until morning came, or until rescue, in a dark corner of the docks. The place was massive - there'd be a hiding place for them. In fact, they could probably just hide here... if he held Tai close, maybe they'd be warm.

He stopped as they passed a cleaning closet. "Wait..." He reached out and tested the door-knob. It rattled. Locked. "Dammit."

"What?" whispered Tai, approaching the door.

"We should just hide! If we keep running around like dorks we'll get caught for sure!" Mike stepped back and raised a leg. The kit kicked hard at the door, but all it did was make a racket. "Ow! Crap. It always looks so easy." He checked the handle again, twisting it both directions as violently as he could. "Guess we're not getting in here."

"Mike!"

"What?"

Tai was frowning slightly, his ears perked. "I-I think I heard something." He pointed up the corridor. "From over there! Someone's coming."

Freezing on the spot, Mike strained to hear. "I... are you sure?!"

Naturally, he was. The voices were more faint echoes, but they were approaching. Getting louder and clearer. Footsteps, soles scraping on the concrete. It sounded like several furs were heading their way.

"Damn it!" Mike groaned, turning around. "C'mon, Tai let's go!"

"But-!" Tai did a double take back down the corridor. "There's nothing back that way!"

"We passed a few doors. There's gotta be a place to hide somewhere." Mike started to jog, but Tai stumbled when he tried to follow, again grabbing at his side. "Bloody hell! Come on, you can do it!"

Mike dashed on ahead, testing each door as they went by. Every single one was locked.

It wasn't until they were almost back at the walkway in the generator room that Mike found an unlocked door, and in no fairness could what it opened into be called a room. It was barely even a closet, barely fitting a large, cardboard box, filthy with grime and dust, and three thick pipes that ran down the side wall. It was the best available... outside of heading back to the drainage.

He waved Tai in, and the kit staggered to the doorway. "They're coming!" he wheezed. "They're running now! They heard us!"

"Get in here!" Mike roughly pulled the smaller boy into the closet. He pointed at the space behind the piping, half a foot of room at best. "Get behind the pipes!"

Tai took a step back. "Are you crazy? Wh-what about spiders and stuff?!"

"Spiders don't have handguns!!"

Hesitant, Tai knelt by the piping. There was a small valve at his head-height, and he immediately spotted the thick webbing stretched between the rungs of the wheel. "N-no, but they got venom!" he complained. "Can't we find somewhere bett-?"

The footsteps were loud now, and they heard a fur literally skid around the corner. "I fuckin' heard them again!" a voice grated. "They're here. They must've crawled through the god-damn drainage! They heard us coming."

Mike cursed nastily, letting the door shut and pushing Tai towards the pipes. In the dark, Tai flinched and smacked his head on the valve's edge. With a pained gasp, his paws slipped from under him, and he fell onto the concrete wall. The scraping noise filled the entire cell, but Mike just ushered the dazed Tai and then himself behind the dirty metal tubes. In the darkness, he prayed the pipes were thick enough to obscure them from view.

"They're running!" Another voice. At least two. Mike closed his eyes and clutched the softly whining Tai to him tightly. "They were anyway. They could've tried to hide. Someone wait here, we'll go deeper in and check for them."

"I guess that's torn it..." Mike whispered at the flattened ears beside him. "We'll have to keep moving... if we can get past the guy out there."

Tai just moaned. "Oww..."

"What's wrong?!"

"You made me hit my head!" Tai complained quietly.

Mike blinked. "What?"

"Yeah! On the pipes!" Tai's voice cracked. "I'm hurt enough already!"

"I'm sorry! I panicked, alright?" Mike let out an explosive breath. "Look, there's a guy out there with a gun, and we have to get around him in about five minutes, or else his buddies come back. Okay?"

Tai shivered. "Okay."

"When we get out of here, you gotta tell me what's going on!" Mike shifted, getting to a crouch. "I wanna know why Darron is after you."

No reply. Mike just let it slide.

Inching from behind the pipes, he approached the door. He pressed a pointed ear to it.

It was quiet, but that didn't mean there wasn't someone standing right against the door. From the dialogue he heard before, it seemed the gangsters had gone further, leaving one of their number here in case the kits tried to double back. Trapping them.

Mike closed his eyes and rested against the door.

He remembered playing games like this. Pretending to hide from his dad and the other adults for well over an hour whenever he was playing with Ciaran - sometimes the others joined in whenever they gathered after the swimming meets. Exciting. Fun. This was nothing like that. It was deadly serious.

But that was okay. Mike knew he could be serious too.

For how long he could keep this up though, he wasn't sure. He'd never been so scared. He knew he could focus, he knew he could set goals and achieve them, but he had no idea what to do here - would anyone? Part of him wanted to curl up and just wish for help to come before it was too late, but he had to take care of Tai. That responsibility gave him something to focus on, as there wasn't a clear, simple goal. It was Tai's confidence in him that let him keep up this charade.

Because that was all it ever was, really...

"Mike, you okay?" Tai asked from behind the pipes.

"Listening..." Mike whispered back, jolted back into alertness.

He had a goal, and he knew what to do. More or less. He was just scared, and it was making him doubt himself. That had happened before, almost every time he went to a competition. But he still usually managed to get his brown-furred butt on the podium. You don't win if you're not confident, his dad told him, but that didn't mean you shouldn't be afraid - fear of losing should help you do your best. Hopefully fear of more serious things counted too.

Carefully he turned the door's handle, opening it just a sliver, nerves strung tight.

The one adult left behind was crouching slightly, slowly and quietly moving along the walkway. He had a pistol in his paws. In the shadows, Mike couldn't tell what the adult was - average height and build, but he moved like he knew what he was doing.

But more importantly, his back was to their hiding spot, and he was inching further away.

"Tai, come on!" hissed Mike, waving the smaller boy to his side. "We can make a break for it, but be quiet!"

Tai crept closer, trying to sneak a peek out the door himself. "What if he hears us?"

"Then run. He has a gun." Mike pulled the heavy wooden door open some more. "Go! The way we were heading before!"

Nodding, Tai slipped out into the corridors. Scared and injured, nonetheless Tai's foot-falls were quiet and he moved fast. Mike followed him after making sure the door closed quietly.

Tai waited for him a few feet down the corridor. "Stay quiet!" whispered Mike as he got closer. "There's an echo."

"Alright."

Moving as quickly as they dared, they soon passed the cleaner's storage room Mike had futilely tried to open before.

A few more corners and they were faced with a large, painted door. Mike's heart leapt.

With a sharp grunt, he shoved it open. A gust of fresh, chilly air immediately swept right over him, carrying with it the scent of the ocean, and he sighed. Thankfully, they were outside again, on a narrow metal landing a few feet from solid ground. A rush of relief made him giddy once again.

They'd escaped once more!

"Brr!" Tai exclaimed, wrapping his arms around his skinny, exposed torso. "It's cold!"

"Come on!" replied Mike, reaching for his friend's paw. "Let's find a safer place."

Stairs led down from the doorway. Metal, noisy stairs, of course; every clanging step made the boys cringe.

Now they were in some sort of courtyard, between several large buildings. The massive brick structure they'd just exited had a sign nailed to the wall by the door - 'Emergency Generator'. That made sense, Mike supposed.

A ventilation unit thrummed away in the middle of the courtyard, and by it was a small building. Mike didn't even bother with trying the door into it: it was padlocked. Wooden and cardboard boxes were stacked in the corner by it, and also in the corner by the exit they emerged from. Crammed against the wall, between it and the boxes, was a blue tarpaulin.

All around them were high walls, but for one direction, which was sealed off by an imposing ten-foot fence, adorned with bristles of razor-wire. Beyond it was a small driveway access alongside yet another warehouse. It was from this direction that the wind blew.

"Well, we're not climbing that..." mumbled Mike, eyeing the vicious, bristling clumps of wire. "We'll leave half our butts behind. C'mon." He stepped towards a door into one of the other buildings.

Tai frowned. "B-but Mike, if we go into that building, wouldn't that be where those guys came from?"

"Probably. So?"

"What if there's more of them?" asked Tai. "Should we really go that way?"

Mike paused, looking hard at the shivering, sodden boy. "Do you know what you're saying?" he asked slowly. "You want us to climb that?" Tai nodded. "You do see the razor-wire right?"

"Yeah."

"Have you ever climbed a fence with that stuff on it?"

"Once." Mike folded his arms. "And how did that go?"

"Um, I-I had to give up. I cut my hand."

"Exactly..." Mike frowned. "I get what you mean but that stuff really cuts you up. It isn't just barbed wire."

Tai bit his lip and looked around. "Wh-what about that?" he asked, pointing at the tarpaulin bundled up into the corner of the courtyard. "We could put that over the wire."

Mike blinked. "That's a good idea!" he exclaimed, jogging over to the pile of boxes. "Let's see..."

He grabbed a hold of the synthetic material and pulled. It slipped right out - it wasn't pinned under any of the boxes, just carelessly stuffed into the corner. With the rustling tarpaulin in paw, Mike looked around. He settled his gaze upon the other stack of boxes by the fence. Perfect! "Bingo!"

With a running start, he leapt onto a wooden box only a few feet tall. Clambering up the next box and then the next, he was right by the fence, and nearly seven feet up it. "Heh!" he grinned at Tai, who smiled right back.

Dragging the long bundle of material up, Mike gave it a toss, draping it over the top of the fence, covering the thick bush of spines and barbs in one section. "Alright!" he said, dropping down to the ground. "I'll help you up, short-stuff!"

Tai nodded, pulling himself up onto the first box. Mike was relieved - the kit seemed to be getting some of his strength back.

With Mike's help, Tai got onto the next two boxes.

"Okay, now..." Mike looked at the fence. "Try to climb up along the side here," he said, indicating the uncovered section of the wire, "and go over it at the covered part."

Tai reached out, but winced and pulled his arm back to his side. After a moment, he tried again, keeping the arm on the injured side closer to his chest this time.

The kit started to scale the fence, while Mike stood by his side in case he should slip. As he neared the top, Tai reached over to the covered section and tried to pull himself over to it. Mike stepped closer, putting his paws on the kit's backside to give him a bit of a boost.

"I'll give you a push, ready? Get a good hold of it!" Mike paused for a second, then jumped slightly, shoving Tai's butt up and to the side.

"Whoa!" Tai yelped. But the momentum did the trick - he tumbled over the fence, managing to catch a hold of the tarpaulin on the other side. He held on to the material for a moment, before his grip failed and he fell the remaining few feet to the concrete. He landed on his paws, but his legs buckled and collapsed unceremoniously to his backside.

"Sorry, I thought it'd be easier to keep a hold of!" blurted Mike. "Oh, geez. You know I'm not trying to hurt you, right?"

Tai nodded, pulling himself upright again. "It's okay." He looked at his paws and hissed. "I think I skinned my paws."

"I'll be there in a second!" Mike leapt at the fence, scampering up the links easily. It was difficult, but he managed to get himself to lean over to the covered section. With nobody to boost him, he had to push in on the tarpaulin, trying to find a foot-hold on the other side, digging in to get a grip on the wire beneath it.

Eventually he got to the top. Tentatively, he touched the tarpaulin covering the razor-wire. Even through the thick, tough material he felt the metal thorns and barbs under it, but it seemed safely covered. So he swung a leg over it.

But his weight was greater than Tai's and now the material wasn't anchored. Immediately he felt the tarpaulin start to shift beneath him. "Uh-oh!" he gasped, trying to pull himself over the top quickly.

The tarpaulin slipped as he was on top of the ten foot fence, and with a loud tearing noise the razor-wire gouged right through the synthetic sheet. And Mike's pants.

"Shit!" he squealed. Searing pain licked along his inner thigh, and his suddenly shredded pants snagged on the wire, arresting his momentum and jolting him off balance. "Oh shit!"

He toppled over the edge, grasping futilely at the chain-links and the tarpaulin. But the tarpaulin was no longer stable, it simply got pulled down along with him. He tried to cling to the fence, but his momentum swung him around, twisting his fingers painfully - he let go immediately, and fell to the concrete.

Tai moved with unthinking swiftness, leaping underneath the bigger boy.

With a thump, Mike landed on him. Tai was too small to have any hope of catching him, but he broke his fall, and they both fell to the concrete.

"Agh!" Mike whimpered, sitting up instantly to clutch at his inner thigh. It felt like a whip had cracked down across his inner thigh, leaving a streak of hot pain from the inside all the way around and down to a few inches above the back of his knee. "T-Tai!? You okay?"

Having fallen onto his side, Tai sat up and rubbed his pink nose. "Yeah, I th-think so!" he said nasally, eyes watering. "You hit my nose. Ah!" He clutched at his side again.

Mike looked gingerly at his paw. Blood. Quite a lot of it.

Tai crawled over to him, concern on his features. "Are you okay?!"

"I-I guess..." Mike swallowed, trying to get himself to his paws. "Ah! Ow, shit! That stings!" The moment he straightened he almost fell back to the ground, yelping loudly.

"Mike?!"

The brown-furred fox stumbled into the fence and wailed - the pain in his leg had exploded, as if some sort of delayed reaction. He struggled valiantly against the urge to break down and cry, clutching at the fence. It hurt worse than any cut he'd ever endured; it almost burned with agony, and he couldn't bring himself to touch the bleeding wound again.

His instinct, his habit, to burst into tears and call helplessly for his dad tried to overwhelm him. But he couldn't give in to it. Nobody was here for them to depend on. They had to look after themselves, so he couldn't give in to it!

But nonetheless he found himself crying into his forearms up against the fence.

"Mike, are you okay?" Tai gasped, stumbling over to him.

Mike bit his lip, fighting to calm himself down. He had to be grown up here. He knew he could do it. After a moment, he nodded and wiped at his nose. "I-I'll be fine. Let's go... they'll see that thing and know we went over the fence."

A smaller paw lightly touched his, and he looked over. The tawny kit just met his gaze somberly.

Somehow, Mike dredged up a smile. "Th-thanks..." he whispered, sniffing loudly.

As hurriedly as they could, they made their way along the driveway. Only to find themselves at the waterfront again, in front of the warehouse. The promenade along the water's edge was wide, littered with boxes, shipping containers and even vehicles. Trucks and massive motorized fork-lifts. The wind was faster now, whistling up from the surface of the water, still spraying the waterfront with a veil of fine mist.

Tai stared out at the sea nervously. It looked even worse now: the boats in the distance were hazy, enclosed by a thick fog. There was a rustling noise, barely audible over the lapping waves as they smashed repeatedly against the concrete embankments. "Now what?" he asked.

"Same as before!" Mike replied, trying to sound chipper. "Find a place to wait until we're rescued."

Tai opened his mouth to reply, but he paused. He recognized that distant haze - it wasn't a mist at all. It was moving. Shimmering. It seemed... like everything in the distance was grainy somehow. Squinting at it, he saw it moving closer.

And a drop of freezing water fell right onto his muzzle.

"Oh, crap!" Mike exclaimed. "Is it raining?"

Tai pointed out to sea. "Uh-huh. It's heavy."

As the wall of indistinct haziness got closer, Tai saw it for what it was. Torrential rain, thick sheets of sky-born water cascading from the clouds. The rustling sound was the rain cutting into the ocean. The sky flashed once, and a distant, sonorous boom followed a second later.

"Oh shit!" Mike groaned, peering around the container's side. "Can't it wait?!"

In moments, Tai felt further drops hitting his fur. "We're gonna have to get out of this!" he warned, surprised to find that he had to speak up to be heard over the rain that was still hundreds of feet out to sea.

"Look out!" Mike turned and staggered back, grabbing Tai's paw and yanking him amongst a cluster of large wooden crates.

"What?!" asked Tai. Mike pulled him to a crouch.

"Some guys are coming this way!"

Raindrops started to fall nosily all around them, bouncing off the wooden boxes and ground alike, and the wind started to grow louder. The storm was going to be picking up fast.

A trio of male adults jogged past the shipping container, one of them with his hood up, another holding a heavy jacket over his head.

Even despite the rain and distance, the kits found they could hear their loud voices. "Shit!" one of them yelled over a suddenly gale. "This one came up fast!"

"No problem if we get the next container onto the ship!" another shouted. "We're almost fuckin' done, we're not letting some rain get in the way!"

"It's not just some rain!" protested the first adult. Tai peered around the corner of a box - they were heading towards a truck, one hitched to yet another shipping container. "It's a fuckin' hurricane or something a few miles off the coast. There's a storm warning. We don't want to be out in this when it gets started."

The storm hit them full-force scarcely a few seconds after that. Tai squinted as the downpour struck the promenade. The bright flood-lights along the waterfront seemed to dwindle, smothered by the torrent.

He started to shake all over. The rain was freezing.

Mike joined him at the crate's edge and they watched the adults warily for a few minutes, squinting through the rain to watch the dark shapes. After seemingly checking their container over, two of them got into the cabin, while the third remained on foot.

With a loud growl the truck started up, starting to rumble its way along the waterfront, as the third adult walked alongside it. Mike pulled Tai away from the edge of the box.

"Stay down!" Mike instructed his friend. "They're coming this way."

Tai nodded. "I-I'm cold!" he complained, huddling closer to his older friend.

Immediately Mike pulled the kit to him, shielding his slighter body with his own. He squeezed gently, but Tai gasped, trying to push Mike's arms off. "Sorry," Mike murmured, shifting his grip. "I forgot..."

The truck trundled along slowly, its headlights lancing through the darkness, illuminating the rain in a visible cone in front of it. The penetrating beam of bright light fell upon the clustered containers the boys hid behind, and Mike ducked as quickly as he could without causing the pain in his leg to spike again.

That was close. A whimper escaped the kit's muzzle, and what remained of his pride was glad it was swept away by the winds. The waterfront still wasn't safe. They'd have to stay down for awhile, and then try to move on. As if staying in this downpour would be smart anyway.

He hissed and tried to will away the pain in his leg. It didn't work. In fact, thinking about it did the opposite.

"Mike..." Tai forced past his chattering teeth, clutching at the older boy's arm. "W-we can't stay out in this..."

"I know."

"S-s-so cold!" Tai gasped.

Mike rubbed the kit's shoulders. "I know..."

There was nothing they could do until the truck was safely out of sight, and even then they'd have to traverse the open waterfront until they found a safe place - if there even was a safe place nearby.

Beneath his soaked fur, Tai's skin was clammy and cold. If only they'd managed to get a shirt on him before they were abducted...

Time passed slowly, seemingly in spite of their urgent need for shelter. The rain got heavier and heavier, and distant rumbles spoke of worse weather to come.

Tai winced, closing his eyes tight. It hurt. The rain itself actually hurt.

Drops of freezing water peppered him relentlessly. The droplets were hard and heavy, reminding him of a thousand stinging pellets from those toy guns that his schoolmates had once been enamored with. Even though Mike held him close, he couldn't protect him from the merciless weather.

By the time the truck had pulled away, and its rumbling engine was at last drowned out by the hissing rain, it wasn't just pain anymore. Tai shook violently, his teeth chattering like maracas; now the rain felt like dull thuds, heavy impacts on his numb body. It was a different kind of pain as his muscles started to lock, to tighten, in protest. An all-consuming sting that recalled a certain icy lake once again.

Fear suddenly gripped him. If they didn't get to shelter quickly...!

"M-M-Mike!" he gasped, struggling to move himself.

"Huh?" The bigger kit responded, actually raising his voice to speak to the boy in his arms. The rain had become a deafening white noise, as if a powerful waterfall was roaring loudly all around them. "Did you say something?"

Tai twisted around slightly. "H-have t-to get out of the r-r-rain," he managed to force out. "S'cold!"

The barky-furred kit nodded. The howling wind slashed at their exposed hiding spot, whipping up and driving flurries of rain rhythmically against the waterfront with each surging blast, lashing at the docks with solid sheets of water. Tai's fur alone was no protection against that.

Motioning for his companion to stay low, Mike crouched a little higher, trying to scan the area for any activity. After peering in vain through the obscuring rain, he helped the shivering Tai to his paws.

"Come on!" he said, leading the way. "We'll find a warehouse or something and try to warm up there."

He walked on, raising a paw to protect his face from the rain. Tai stumbled along behind him. His legs were numb, and he was having trouble on getting them to go where he wanted to put them. He knew he should call out to Mike, to ask for help, but they had to be quiet.

Tai had grown up in Alaska, out away from large cities, close to a mountain range that defined dangerous weather. Snow flurries and ice were some of the most common sights that he remembered; beautiful things that danced elegantly in the sky, seemingly innocuous. But ever since he was young enough to wander out of parents' sight, they'd taught him to fear the silent killer that was the cold. He knew all about it. It had taken his father from him.

That aside, he recognized the chill in the air. Could taste it with every breath. The cold rain would soon become sleet. Maybe not today, but snow would be not long behind.

Distractedly, the kit wondered how the imposing city would look, smothered in a thick white blanket of snow. It might be an improvement, at least to him.

Mike led them along the waterfront, before he decided to turn, heading inland between two warehouses. Tai followed without question.

It was a service alley, and Mike headed directly for the spiraling, metal staircase that led up to the fire escape walkway of one of the warehouses. He reached the bottom of the slippery metal stairs and paused, allowing Tai to catch up.

"You first..." urged Mike, stepping to the side.

Tai nodded and reached out, gripping the handrail as tightly as possible in his numb fingers. Grunting with effort, the kit pulled himself onwards.

Under his breath, Mike cursed. He had hung back in order to observe his friend - and help him climb up if need be. It was clear now that Tai wasn't just hurt. He could barely move.

Yet... he still did.

Suddenly Mike felt a powerful surge of affection and respect for his younger companion.

The little fox boy was strong. Strong in a way Mike didn't comprehend until now; didn't understand the value of compared to the conventional meaning of 'strength'. In such a state, Mike wasn't sure he'd be able to keep going- but Tai did. Tai had endured so much, and he'd endured it by himself. Even if sometimes he felt it was hopeless, that he couldn't do anything, Tai was resilient, resourceful and intelligent. He was not brave. He was not confident. But nonetheless he was tough.

And that wasn't all. Today especially, Mike had seen that the skinny little kit was way more athletic than he appeared. Startlingly fast for his size, a fully-grown adult would have great difficulty catching him on a straight, let alone if the agile boy could whip his small frame around corners.

But not anymore though. Tai was hurting. He trembled violently, his pointed teeth chattering over the ferocious hissing of the rain. His gait was such an awkward limp, doubled up, as if his entire body was cramping. One paw absently clutched his injured ribs, and his formerly excellent balance and coordination seemed gone. Exhausted, he could barely pull himself up the spiraling stairs while his matted, long head-fur hung in front of his face like a shredded veil.

It was a disturbing sight. So wrong. Like a sick joke.

But it reminded Mike of something he had to consider: he knew they wouldn't even be able to put up half a fight if they were cornered. If his short lifetime of experiences, from wrestling with his father to confrontations with bigger boys, hadn't taught him the ego-deflating truth, the ease with which they'd been originally captured had: they were simply too small, and facing an adult directly had zero chance of success. They were just too small, too weak by comparison. That was just a given. Kids didn't try to fight grownups except in silly movies.

But even running from them was out of the question now. An awful stiffness was settling into his right leg while the back of his thigh throbbed with pain. Running was one of the last things he wanted to do right now.

As they climbed the stairs, Mike watched the smaller kit warily, offering him help whenever he stumbled.

When at last they reached the upper landing - some minutes later - Tai collapsed against the handrail.

"You okay?!" Mike grabbed the smaller boy's shoulders.

"N-no..." Tai shook his head, unsteadily pushing himself off the wet metal bar. "I-I-I g-g-ot-- gotta... rest..."

"We can do that inside," insisted Mike. Quickly, he raised Tai's arm and slipped underneath. Supporting the younger boy. "Let's go."

As they stumbled towards a fire exit much like the one they made their earlier escape from, Mike closed his eyes tight.

They had to hide. Or else they were dead.

Robert could barely move. The van he was in was cramped beyond belief.

It was a big vehicle, but computers, equipment and burly, blue-uniformed furs took up most of the space. Even worse, the constant rattling sound of the rain on its metal roof was grating his already strung nerves.

Things had gone well so far, he supposed. The NYPD had agreed to help, and he had been allowed to oversee the operation - though Robert was not placed, strictly speaking, in command. Though he had initially wanted that, he was somewhat glad to know that matters would lie in the paws of those far more experienced in these matters. Provided, that is, they knew that this was no normal hostage situation.

But then again that was what he was there for.

So he found himself cramped into the van alongside a hard-bitten sergeant, a grim-faced collie that was far bulkier than his race would suggest. He looked over a large map of the docks, and constantly checked a whiteboard on the wall, scrawled with nigh unreadable scribbles and diagrams. Robert wasn't even sure what he was checking, but he had long since decided to leave the details to the professionals.

It was somewhat unnerving to the fox that the sergeant had barely said ten words to him directly since they'd got in the van, nor had anyone else spoken to him more than was needful. Perhaps the police didn't want to traffic with what they probably thought were spooks - Robert could try for a hundred years and he doubted the canine would ever accept he wasn't some black-ops 'spook.'

He was a father trying to save his son, with twenty poorly-written essays on Etymology to slough through when everything was back to normal.

And no, he didn't dare consider any other outcome. He couldn't.

He would not lose his little boy too. He would not lose either of them.

"You said the satellite imaging would be coming through soon?" growled the sergeant, squinting closer at the map.

"Yes." Robert sighed, fondling his phone pointlessly. "I should be getting it soon."

The sergeant muttered something to a cercal who sat with an intense look on his features, a headset pressed firmly to his ear. Robert had no idea what the cercal was doing either. Though he knew he could probably ask one of the other agents he had with him, it just didn't seem important. At least he hoped it wasn't.

"We've barely got any idea how many there are." The sergeant shook his head slowly. "SWAT doesn't move in until we have accurate numbers and positions. That's when lives are lost. You realize this?"

Robert nodded. "I do, but you have to realize that we're not dealing with normal criminals here." The fox bit his lip. "It could be anything from a small band to dozens. I doubt we'll have more than twenty, thirty tangos at worst. Assuming they're shipping contraband in or out tonight, that is."

The sergeant scowled. "And you think they'll be armed with automatic weapons?" he asked, concern on his features at last. It was one of the only expressions Robert had seen him make outside of stodgy disapproval.

"It's possible."

"This could turn the docks into a war-zone." The sergeant glanced at another piece of paper. "I've got the whole SWAT team here, and I can equip other officers to help, but I got no more than thirty officers here, and all thirty of them have to be going back to their wives and kids tonight. I'm not risking any lives for--"

"I've told you this is a rescue op," interjected Robert, meeting the scowl with one of his own. "It's not just a drug-bust, or some obscure CIA objective. This collaboration is about saving innocent lives! You don't think a pair of innocent children are worth risking lives for?"

The sergeant hesitated. "That depends," he said softly, "and I didn't mean that. I understand one of them is your own son. If it is at all possible, I want nobody to die tonight. Our job is to get in there and put bad guys in jail. Not to get into wars. There's no such thing as acceptable collateral when you're talking about fathers and sons."

Swallowing, Robert nodded. "Sorry. I know what you mean. It's just... Christ! I want to do anything possible to save my son. His friend too. They've been kidnapped by... I-if you have kids, I'm sure you can imagine what this must feel like."

"I can." The sergeant eyed him wisely, adjusting his crisply ironed uniform. "You sure you want to be involved in the operation then?"

"Absolutely." Robert gave him a hollow smile. "Absolutely. You couldn't drag me away."

The silver phone in his paws started to buzz.

The warehouse was vast, as they saw from the fire escape's inner landing. The lights were off and it was thankfully deserted.

Mike eased the violently shivering Tai down to the ground by the door. The kit leaned against the wall, his body practically cramping into a trembling ball.

They said nothing, and Mike simply scanned the massive room. It was unremarkable, he supposed, as far as warehouses go. Stacked pallets, boxes, and metal shelves, quite like the first one they had found themselves in. The warehouse was dark, but some light from floodlights outside managed to enter through the glass panels on the roof, supplying just enough light to see.

Outside, the rain pelted down mercilessly.

Satisfied they were safe, Mike turned and checked the heavy door. As with before, it had taken much effort to open. Even more to close quietly with Tai hanging on his shoulder. He gingerly touched the metal surface. Resting on it.

"Sh-should we s-s-sit so close to the d-door?" stammered Tai, unable to speak clearly. He shivered still and his voice was mumbled and weak. It took a few seconds for Mike to decipher it.

"No," he said, rubbing his own shaking torso briefly. "Let's find somewhere."

Carefully, he daubed with his fingertips at his inner thigh, seeking the wound there that he couldn't see. With a stifled yelp he whipped his paw away. It was covered in a runny, red liquid. It was no scratch - it was a deep gash. The razor-wire had slashed a good few inches down his leg. His eyes watered.

"Owww..." he moaned, sniffing and swiping at his eyes with his already sodden wrist. He resisted the urge to stamp his paw, to shake away the pain - that'd just make it so much worse. "Shit! It really hurts now! Why did I touch it?!"

Tai looked up at him expressionlessly, not commenting. Before him, Mike verged on tears, leaning on the wall. The pain from the cut must've caught up with him now. Tai couldn't see the wound itself properly, but he could see the blood. Their clothes were both soaked through, but the upper-leg section of Mike's pants was stained a dull-brownish red.

At last, Mike bit his lower lip, somehow overcoming the pain once again, bending down to help Tai up again. Tai took his friend's paw, but Mike still had to tug the small cub upright by main strength.

"Th-there's an office over there..." he pointed across the warehouse, at a closed, windowed door on the ground floor. A few feet from it was another door, one without a window. Tai guessed the former was the office. "There might be some stuff there. Like first aid."

Mike grimaced even as he said that. He wasn't looking forward to the bitter sting of anti-septic on his leg, but they were going to be stuck here for some time, most likely. They needed to do everything to make sure they were safe as possible - including treating their wounds.

Both his father and coach impressed on him the importance of dealing with injuries when they came up instead of dallying. Last thing he wanted was for his thigh to get permanently damaged somehow.

Together they limped along the landing and down the stairs. It took them minutes to cross the deserted warehouse; Tai relied entirely on his older friend, and Mike refused to let his right leg bend. It hurt less that way.

Mike tried the office door. It rattled noisily but didn't budge. The brown-furred kit hissed in disappointment.

Tai reached out and leaned on the wall. "Wh-what now?" he whispered.

The older boy cursed. "Enough with the locked doors!"

He let Tai rest against the wall, and he pulled his sopping t-shirt off. He wrapped it around his paw.

Summoning every ounce of strength left in his body, Mike threw his fist at the little glass window in the center of the door. With a loud bang, his fist bounced right off, easily repelled by the glass. "Ah, crap!!" he gasped, cradling his wrist.

Tai slid down the wall and watched.

Unwilling to be foiled again by another locked door, Mike glanced around, hopeful. Almost anything would do...

As luck would have it, there was a heavy box, bound with iron strips not ten feet from the office door. Its lid, formerly nailed down, lay diagonally atop it, and on top of that there rested a red and white painted crowbar. Mike grinned, dropping his shirt on the floor.

He retrieved the crowbar, and brandished it at Tai, along with a beatific grin. "Let's try that again, shall we?"

Tai smiled slightly. "Yeah."

This time, the glass exploded. Mike struck it with the sharp curve at the tip of the tool, and the glass pane shattered loudly on the first blow. "Get some!" chuckled Mike, oddly exhilarated. He didn't expect the glass to break so readily when his own little fist almost sprained itself on it. That something went right just felt so incredible.

He reached through and felt around. It was a deadbolt. Fortunately. He undid it and the office door swung open easily. Dropping the crowbar and retrieving his shirt, Mike turned his gaze to Tai. "Alright! Let's look for stuff." He wrung out his shirt. "You wanna wear this? It's not much but it'll be warmer than nothing."

Painfully, Tai clambered to his paws. "Y-yes please..." He took a single step, and then froze solid. His eyes widened.

Mike reacted, looking around wildly. "What?!"

"Shhh!" squeaked Tai. "Listen!"

An echoing voice. An odd, panicked whimpering. Hurried footsteps.

Mike spun around, looking directly at the unmarked door but a few feet from the office's. "Get in the room!"

Something banged loudly into the door from the other side. Though muffled, he could hear a frantic, terrified whimpering; met with calm, mocking laughter. The door burst open, and a young lemur- a female, judging from the disheveled and torn clothing that hung from her slender limbs- collapsed to the concrete. Her fall was barely broken by her small paws, which were bound together in front of her with what looked like zip-ties.

She was pleading, crying out in some language the boys didn't understand, to someone they couldn't see. When she looked around, her eyes were wild and horrified. Unsurprisingly, she was soaked through.

"Oh so now we're going this way?" chuckled the other voice. A deep, sonorous one that both boys immediately recognized. A soft-spoken, but gravelly and growl-like voice with a Bronx accent. "The tour's been fun. But there's nowhere to run. Never will be for you, not anymore."

After only a second, the powerfully built Marco strode leisurely into the warehouse. The tiger loomed above them all at his full six-and-a-half feet, and he grinned calmly. "Enough fun though," he chortled, clearly enjoying himself. When the lemur struggled to her feet, his paw shot out like a striking viper, snaring her upper arm in a vice grip. "You sure are asking for it, bitch."

He spun her around, before backhanding her with such ferocity she sailed headlong into the very box Mike found the crowbar upon.

"Hope you like it rough, bitch," growled Marco, advancing slowly. "I do."

The lemur tried to scrabble away, disoriented by the blow and not even registering the two stunned kits. But Marco suddenly froze.

He turned to slowly stare them, his eyes wide with disbelief. "What-?" he gasped while his mouth hung stupidly open.

Mike exhaled the air he had been holding in for the last ten seconds. This couldn't be! Not now...

Finally, the tiger started to laugh raucously. A deep belly laugh that seemed to vibrate Mike's bare chest, even from so far away. "Would you look at this?" he exclaimed, gesturing pointlessly at the kits. "Everything's going tits up because of you running off, and here you are, just waiting for me."

Swallowing, Mike tried to make a break for the stairs to the fire-exit, but Marco took only a few steps with his long legs and caught his prey by the wrist.

"Let go!" shrieked the boy, but Marco just grinned.

"Sure." He pulled the kit around, and shoved him into the wall.

With a pained yelp, Mike bounced off and landed face first on the concrete.

"Mike!!" Tai cried, pulling himself to his unstable, cramping legs. But Marco didn't even let him stumble to his friend's aid. He reached out and grasped the long, yellow-blonde hair, bringing the kit up short. With no visible effort, he lazily flung him through the office's open door.

Mike looked up in time just to see the tawny boy crash into a metal filing cabinet and slither lifelessly to the ground. "NO!"

This couldn't be happening!! They'd gotten away, they were safe! How did this monster-?!

He struggled to his knees again, but when he glanced around, Marco wasn't even looking him.

The lemur was running for the fire-exit, screaming incoherently as she did so. The hulking tiger simply sighed, and took a few lackadaisical steps after her. From his belt, he indifferently drew a pistol. "Stupid bitch," he mumbled, aiming carefully.

"NO, DON'T!!" Mike screamed. But his body seemed frozen.

There was just a short, sharp pop. Astoundingly loud, loud enough that Mike winced in pain, but far from the dramatic, resonant explosions of the movies. Nonetheless, the lemur stumbled forwards--

And collapsed headlong to the concrete. Unmoving.

A sickening chill, a revulsion beyond anything Mike had ever felt before swept through him, and he watched wide eyed and horrified as someone was casually murdered right before his eyes.

"Stupid foreign bitches," scoffed the tiger, turning his attention to the stunned pup. "But it's alright. Couldn't have her run around anyhow - don't need her making a scene. Hundreds where she came from anyway. I got something a little more important to do here."

He took a step towards Mike, slipping his firearm away in his belt again.

"You're both worth much more. In every way. But I want my turn first - the dickhead wolf can wait."

The look in his eyes left no doubt as to what he meant to do.

Move! Mike screamed at himself. This time, he shot off to the side and around a stack of pallets. The grownup gave chase, laughing delightedly, but, even wounded, Mike was determined: he had to lure him away from Tai at the very least. If he could just get out the building... Marco would chase him, he'd have to.

Leading the adult in a wide circle, Mike turned and dashed for the stairwell up the emergency landing.

The leering tiger cut him off, and he changed direction, sprinting down the aisles of metal shelving. His thigh flared with fresh pain, but he pressed on, striking out for the emergency landing again.

Behind, he heard Marco swear in genuine concern as he started up the metal stairs.

His sneaker caught on one of the stairs, and he tripped. He smacked his chin on the rough metal walkway, banging his knee on the sharp edge of a step.

Panicking, Mike glanced back as he crawled up the stairs to the landing. He cursed shrilly: Marco was leaping stairs three at a time, gaining with incredible speed for his size.

Desperate and hurting, the kit reached the landing and tried to accelerate to the exit.

But just as his paws touched it he was suddenly bowled over. Thrown to the metal landing with such force he bounced.

Every ounce of air in his lungs was ejected, and the best outcry he could make was a strangled wheeze. He tried to recover, tried to look around and see what had knocked him down, but his sight was blurry and he was struck by a dizziness that rendered even considering trying to stand up beyond him.

"Ooh, nice try," he heard the tiger's deep voice as some huge paws grasped his arms and hauled him upright. "You're pretty fast. But come on, kid. I do this shit for a living."

Mike was suddenly launched forwards, slammed into the handrail until it dug painfully into his gut. He gasped, breathing almost impossible. Marco's powerful paw pushed him down until he dangled limply across the metal strip, hanging over it like clothing draped on a line. The adult held him there easily.

"I know, I know, you've got to try at least once. But you'll get it soon, kid. No escape and all that shit. You're screwed." Mike felt a paw grasp the waistband of his pants and tug them down. He sobbed aloud - he knew what was coming. "Soon you'll just lie there and take it. Just like the last, I dunno, twenty or so."

The tiger's muzzle came closer to his limp ears. He could feel the hot breath tickling the fur on nape, sending unpleasant shivers down his spine.

"If you get lucky, you might learn to like it..." The breathing picked up, and there was a revolting chuckle. "Oh wait. You do like it, don't you? That ferret fuck. Heard about that. Yeah... you've got experience. Told everyone you didn't mind it, didn't you? You're a regular little pervert. Not the first I've met."

The tiger grinded up against Mike's exposed backside, and the kit couldn't stop himself. He burst into tears.

A fondling paw, thrice the size of his own, started to stroke slowly down his wet, trembling side, down his injured thigh, mindless of the wound there... and slipping around to his exposed privates.

No! This couldn't--!

"No!" choked Mike. In reply, Marco just crushed him even harder against the railing. "Please don't!" He wailed, weakly kicking his legs.

"Oh, that's just hot, kid," snickered Marco, his paw still engaging in its foul exploration - it in itself a mockery of his victim. "Ooh, please doooon't! That's just gold, keep doing that. You'll make a good boy-whore. Well, unless Darron decides to sell you as lunch meat. Give me a second here. Go on, struggle a bit. I like it."

With a sob, Mike sagged in hopeless defeat. The bruiser behind him started to do something - undoing his own pants, Mike guessed. Taking his time. The cub closed his eyes, trying to wish himself away from this. Trying to pretend it wasn't about to happen.

But it was.

So close to safety too... it was over. He'd screwed up. He'd failed. Failed himself and Tai... they were gonna die. No... worse. This was worse.

Captured again, they would have to endure this for the rest of their lives... because of him.

He was so busy feeling sorry for himself that he didn't register the blood-curdling howl at first.

A second later however, he slid backwards to the metal flooring. Confused and hurting, he took a desperately needed breath before trying to turn himself over.

"What...?!" he croaked, looking around.

Marco had released him and staggered backwards.

He was doubled over, grasping at his crotch, his pants down at his knees. Behind him a familiar little shape was clutching something, holding it up high. He couldn't focus enough in the darkness of the warehouse to see what it was. The shape behind moved again, once more striking its target's most vulnerable spot with its weapon.

Whatever that weapon was, it suddenly clanged to the floor as Marco spun around. Knocked away. The massive grownup gave a furious roar, drawing himself up to his fullest height.

Dwarfed by the adult, Tai glared straight at him regardless. The kit's face was grim. Determined. Even though he had been disarmed, he didn't back down. Mike blinked in amazement. Trembling and injured, Tai stared bravely, defiantly, into those narrow agate eyes.

At last, despite being in what had to be incredible pain, Marco lashed out. It wasn't a punch, or any kind of strike. He thrust out one huge paw with surprising speed, and the tiny kit couldn't avoid it. With his monstrous strength, Marco simply shoved the boy away like he was throwing aside a pillow.

Mike watched in horror as his best friend was hurled backwards like a feather swept up in a gale. The slender kit bounced right off the metal landing.

And went crashing down the stairs.

"Ooogh!" moaned the tiger, clutching in agony at his groin. He staggered a few steps along the walkway, knees almost failing him.

As he moved, the shadow that fell across it did also, and Mike recognized what Tai had wielded: a red strip of metal, slightly curved at either end. Of course! The crowbar!

Calling on what was left of his reserves, the bark-furred kit moved. He desperately kicked off his pants to free his legs, then reached out and grasped the painted metal bar, hauling himself to his paws.

Growling to himself, Marco turned around to face his victim, still bent over from the pain. At last, Mike beheld the monster's twisted countenance - despite it all, Tai had struck true. The tiger flinched slightly in surprise, seeing another teary-eyed and determined child standing right before him.

As fast as his drained body could move, Mike acted. He leapt forward, swinging his weapon wildly with his entire exhausted body behind the blow.

The crowbar smashed into the tiger's temple with a sickening crack. Even the force generated by a mere ten-year-old was enough to send the behemoth whirling around. So hard did Mike strike him that the crowbar went spinning from his paws.

Loosing another agonized howl, Marco collapsed against the handrail and toppled over it. At the last second, his massive paw clutched the landing, halting his deadly descent to the concrete twenty feet below.

Dangling from the landing, the tiger eyed Mike with a blend of fear and total disbelief.

At first, the nearly naked kit stared back, equally incredulous, just as afraid. But then a hot, indignant, wrath boiled up within him, and Mike snarled at the adult. "Do this for a living!" he yelled, kicking as hard as he could at the grownup's face.

His sneaker connected, and he heard a satisfying snap that seemed to come from the tiger's nose. That massive paw slipped...

But the tiger's other paw made a wild swipe; a last, belated attempt to protect his head.

It caught Mike's ankle. With a shocked scream, Mike was pulled between the handrail and the landing, over two hundred and fifty pounds of weight dragging him to his death.

At the last second he caught the ledge with a single paw as Marco had, and the tiger's grasp slipped, courtesy of the cub's sodden, slick fur.

There was a scream and, a mere moment later, Mike heard a muffled thump, but they scarcely registered over his own pounding heartbeat, thumping so loudly in his ears. And his own terrified, mindless cursing.

"Oh shit, oh fuuuck!" he wheezed breathlessly, holding on with whatever he still had left in him. Mostly sheer will. The violent jolt when Marco had lost his grip had nearly made him lose his own, and he clung to the landing's edge by his aching fingertips alone.

Yet somehow, he managed to grab on properly with his other paw and pull himself back up. He rolled away from the edge.

Gasping for breath that seared his throat, he lunged at his pants and underwear, struggling to put them back on. To cover himself, to protect his body again. It took him a second or two before he remembered...

"TAI!" he cried, limping to the stairs. "Tai! Are you alright?!"

He flew down the stairs, jumping the last five and rolling his left ankle slightly on landing. Though he fell to the ground with a short scream, he forced the pain out of mind immediately and crawled over to his stricken friend. He knelt by the tawny boy. "Oh!" he sobbed. Gingerly, he lifted the kit's head closer to his own. Was his neck broken? No... it didn't feel like it. "No. No! Please, Tai! Please wake up! Don't go..."

He collapsed on the shirtless pup's chest, desperately pressing his cheek to Tai's.

This couldn't be. Tai had saved him. He could NOT have died saving him! Not after all this. The little fox boy was tough, he could take anything! Falling down the stairs had to be nothing to him! He was just knocked out, he had to be!

So there was no way Mike wasn't going to wake him. He wasn't going to move until that happened. Nothing else mattered.

"No!" he sniffled, shaking the kit in his paws. "Please, Tai! You're gonna be my brother! We're gonna go home! Gonna go home together! Wake up! Come on, wake up!"

Incredibly, the smaller kit twitched and groaned at his words. "Ugh...?"

Mike started. "Tai?!"

The tawny kit's eyelids fluttered open, like dozy butterflies on the first spring morning. Behind them, the leafy-green eyes focused at last on Mike's face...

There was a stunned, disbelieving moment of stillness. Then Mike burst out laughing, clutching the boy to his chest tightly.

Painfully, Tai swallowed, smiling up at Mike when the older kit finally gave him some space. Finally, he croaked out a few quiet words.

"I... think I just fell down the s-stairs."

With a disgusting snort, Mike returned the smile.

"Y-you klutz."

"Are you alright?" Mike asked. His entire body felt rubbery as he peered under the bureau. Already he shivered, now that he was without a shirt.

Tai nodded, wrapping his arms around his own body, now clad in Mike's t-shirt. It was the best they could do to warm him. After tumbling down the stairs, Tai couldn't even walk. Mike had to carry him to the office. He hurt all over now, but so far he didn't think he'd broken anything - aside from maybe his ribs. They still ached, but he'd never broken a rib before--he had no idea how it'd feel. Though there was a tight pain in the middle of his chest that he tried not to think about. Myriad cuts and abrasions were all over him, many from the fall down the metal stairway, and he was sure he'd be spotted with bruises by tomorrow were it not for his fur.

Fur which had done little to keep his muscles from cramping in the savage chill outside. It was only his supreme weariness that kept him from bursting into tears from all his discomfort. Exhausted, he closed his eyes, once more trusting to Mike to keep them safe. He was useless to them both now.

But before sleep could take him, he remembered something. He picked up the first aid kit they'd located atop a filing cabinet. "Mike?" he called to the bigger boy, catching his attention as he went to switch off the office's light. "Don't we have to do something to your leg, you said?"

Warily, Mike eyed the red and white bag. He really didn't want to, but the cut was too deep to leave alone. "I g-guess so."

"What do we have to do?"

The brown-furred kit hesitated. He didn't look forward to the bitter sting of anti-septic. "Do it later," he finally said. "When... yeah."

Stumbling onto the tabletop, he swiped the cordless phone from atop the bureau, pressing a button on it. It lit up. Thankfully. It was all he could do to limp over to the wall and turn off the light before he felt his legs start to wobble. The room was once again plunged into darkness. It wasn't good enough - Mike knew that if someone investigated the warehouse, they'd see bodies, smashed windows, and they'd check under the desk almost immediately.

But neither he nor his friend could endure any more. At least not yet. They needed rest.

The weary kit fell to his knees and crawled under the desk, joining his friend. Together they squirmed about until they got comfortable. Mike wrapped himself around the wounded, exhausted Tai, sharing warmth and comfort.

Wearily, he picked up the phone again and started to dial a number.

"Who're you calling?"

"Dad... and the police." Mike sighed. He paused for a moment.

Tai threaded his fingers with Mike's, and held the older boy's paw. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

A moment later, Mike put the phone down, silently resting his head on top of Tai's.

"Mike?"

"The tiger guy." The older boy's voice was dull. "He's dead. I think I killed him."

Tai hesitated. "He deserved it..." he said eventually. "He was bad. Very bad." Another pause. "I wish I got him instead of you."

"Why?"

"Because he hurt you."

After those simple words there was utter silence, but Tai felt something was wrong. When he twisted around to ask what the matter was, he recoiled.

Mike's face was twisted in a grimace, as if he was in the most horrible pain. His eyes were shut tightly. Unable to suppress it, the fox boy let out a sharp sob. Once more, he started to cry. Hard.

"Mike?! What's the matter?" Tai tried to turn slightly, but Mike held him fast. "Is it your leg? Is your leg hurting still?"

The older kit didn't reply.

It went on for almost a minute. Mike didn't even seem capable of speech. Crying too hard to even close his muzzle, he couldn't get even a word past.

Unable to do anything else, a bemused Tai just held his friend's paw and let himself be hugged.

"I'm so stupid!" Mike slurred at last, barely coherent. "Always tryin' to--t-trying to be brave! I'm not! I'm not..."

"Yes you are," replied Tai immediately, squeezing that paw. "You're very brave."

"No...! I don't mean like that..." Mike returned the squeeze. "D-didn't want dad to worry. I knew I had to be tough. He w-w-ants me to be tough, and s-smart. But I was scared!"

Tai blinked in confusion. "What're you talking about, Mike?"

"Years ago!" exclaimed the older boy, nuzzling almost desperately into Tai's clammy neck. "I didn't say anything coz I didn't want anyone to be worried an' I wanted dad to be--" He sniffed. "But I was so scared. Even after it I was scared. I had nightmares when I wasn't even asleep. I thought he was gonna k-kill me. I didn't want dad to know. I wasn't gonna worry him! He was so busy, with mom gone. He shouldn't have to worry about me, I need to take care of myself. I need to be good at stuff so..."

Silently, Tai took the phone from his friend's paw and placed it on the floor. Mike may not have believed him, if Tai could ever tell him, but... he understood. Perfectly. Tai knew what it meant to pretend things were alright, to hide his own problems even from himself, for the same foolish reason. He knew that it never worked. "It's okay," he whispered. "Don't be upset, Mike. It's okay to be scared about this stuff."

Mike squeezed him again. "I dun care! I don't ever wanna feel like that again." A huge, disgusting snort. "I didn't let dad know. I pretended like I didn't care. I jus' wanted to forget. Didn't want anyone to know. Was so scared..."

Tai just listened, thinking. Mike had already confessed to him that he had been frightened when that odious ferret broke into his house. But this was the full truth. Mike's wounds were deeper than he wanted to admit, especially not to his father. It wasn't just scary. He wasn't alright with it, no matter how gentle his assailant had been.

His father's good opinion meant so much to him. But this wasn't right; it was stupid of Mike to think like this. Tai was certain Robert would've lost none of the respect and love he had for his son if Mike hadn't hidden his scars like that. It mattered not that Mike was more mature, more reliable than most of the adults Tai met - he knew what it meant to need someone. To bottle your nightmares and worries and live with them every day.

You couldn't just outgrow that. Nobody could, not without hurting themselves even more. It would be like cutting your own heart out.

"It was gonna happen again. I let it happen again and I couldn't stop it this time either." Mike inhaled shakily. "This whole... everything has been just so scary, and I screwed up. I'm an idiot! I'm not as little as I was last time! I'm not as dumb!! But I still let it happen!" He almost crushed Tai then, forgetting his injuries. Tai gasped and shifted slightly to spare his damaged ribs. "You saved me, Tai. He was g-gonna... and probably kill me and you... thank you. Thank you so much."

"D-don't mention it," Tai assured him, wincing. What else could he say?

In truth, he could barely move. But with the behemoth distracted, Tai had managed to grasp the crowbar and crawl as fast as he could up the stairs to the emergency exit. When he swung, it had little power - but the kit had deliberately tried to sink the sharpened point of the crowbar right into the jerk's groin. Even still, Tai didn't think he managed to cause serious damage.

But whatever he did it was enough. He'd done enough for Mike to finish off the monster - together, they'd defeated the much larger adult.

When he heard Mike's terrified voice... it wasn't an emotion Tai was used to. He had been angry and desperate before, but not like this. It was sheer mindless fury and a desire to stop the adult at all costs that got him up those stairs; and nearly got him killed.

Mike spoke again. "You heard her. The lady. The one he shot. That's what it's like. And you know too - when that guy broke into your house."

"...I know."

The barky-furred kit fell quiet. Then, with a broken sob, he demanded, "Why did he shoot her?! What did she do to him?!"

Tai shook his head, and sniffed once. "I don't know!"

Together they cried. Again. Mourning a fur they never knew, never even spoke to. It was an empathy, a deep love for life itself that was too rare in the perverted, heartless world of death and deceit they suddenly found themselves in.

The real world.

However, after a moment Mike took a deep breath. He held it for several seconds, once more trying to summon the courage and focus to do what had to be done. "O-okay..." he said at last. "Gimme the phone... We gotta get outta here. I wanna go home."

Tai handed it to him. "Me too."

Mike started to dial, blinking away the tears that blurred his vision so he could read the display.

His paws still shook, so he made several mistakes. As his trembling finger smacked three buttons simultaneously, he cursed softly under his breath. "I hate phones," he murmured.

Tai leaned back into his friend and closed his eyes. "I don't. Not anymore."

Chapter 12

Robert fell forwards onto the desk, cradling his head in his weary paws. The rain bounced off the metal van's roof noisily, but it faded into the background as he worried himself sick, again.

"Unpromising," the sergeant had called it. Robert felt he was being optimistic.

Upon receiving the satellite scans, the police sergeant poured over them in ominous silence. Aside from that single word, he had given Robert no indication of what he was going to do.

There was an unusual amount of activity at the New York docks, centering mostly around one of the large cargo ships berthed. Well over fifty suspicious furs crawled over the complex, and the encroaching storm blotted out huge swathes of the images. Few high-resolution scans were available in the first place due to the weather.

Even now a pair of officers scoured the image for signs of hostages and prisoners, but they would be lucky to find anything, Robert knew. Even the analysts he left in a local building, the makeshift hub for the CIA's part in this operation, would probably find nothing whatsoever in any useful amount of time.

It turns out it's hard to find a pair of small children in a poor resolution image of nearly a dozen blocks of industrial complex. Who knew?

Worse, the powerful storm-front out to sea had reached the coast. The chance of getting any decent high-definition surveillance satellite imagery was about to plummet. If they were lucky, the storm would give them a few minutes of respite; hopefully it would make things harder for the bastards hunting his children.

The sergeant walked over to him, and Robert looked up belatedly. He felt so lethargic all of a sudden. So useless. At the moment, they were all useless. His depression must've showed on his face, as the sergeant hesitated before speaking.

"We're not ready just yet," he said carefully.

Robert merely nodded.

"We're going to wait for some backup." The sergeant sighed, scratching his pointed canine ears. "We're going to need more folks, and even then this is going to be touch and go. Without knowing where the hostages are, we can't do very much."

"I know. We're in contact with the Coast Guard."

"Right, we'll need them - this really could turn into a war-zone. Have your people managed to get anything? Any idea where the hostages could be?"

The fox shook his head slightly. "No." He couldn't say much to the police about this. The handful of personnel Robert had on this operation were intercepting radio and cellular radio transmissions in the area, as well as poring over the scant few pieces of high definition imagery they'd managed to acquire before the storm made it impossible - all of it was technically a violation of the CIA's mandate, operating on home soil, unless Mitchell had managed to pull some serious strings. The less the police actually knew about what they were doing, the better.

There was already going to be severe consequences for this, most likely. Robert could only hope they wouldn't all fall upon his shoulders alone.

"I'll be back in a moment. You'll need to give me some sort of a line of communication to the Guard; we can't co-ordinate something like this through your agency and we're going to need their muscle. If your guys get any leads, let us know. We'll get them out." The canine cop turned quickly and returned to the front of the van, mumbling into his radio.

Glancing at the satellite scan on the whiteboard, taped up beside the incomprehensible notes the police had scrawled, Robert tried to think. It was a big area. But they could surely cover it? Robert had no idea how many cops there were available but striking a blow to a dangerous international drugs and weapons racket had to warrant at least a decent amount of manpower.

And if it didn't, saving the lives of a pair of kids should, right?

The cynical side of him warned him not to expect much. Even worse, the experienced side of him agreed.

His phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket, and he plucked it out hastily. "Hello?" he barked into it the moment the device reached his ear.

"DAD!"

Robert almost collapsed. "Mike! Oh, thank God! Are you both okay? Where are you?!"

"Dad!" Mike's voice continued. He sounded strained. As if in pain. "W-we're hiding in a warehouse. I guess we're okay. A-are you coming to get us?"

"A warehouse?" Robert blinked, his heart rate rising. This was their chance. "Which one? Are there any landmarks nearby?" He swiftly moved over to the satellite scan.

There was muffled conversation from the other side, and Robert felt a surge of relief as he recognized the other voice.

"We're near the water?" offered Mike. "Near the, um, waterfront. We don't know anything else. We're right near the water. Ow! Watch the leg!"

"Sorry!" Robert heard Tai say. "I can't see!"

There were only seven warehouses right on the waterfront, lining the promenade. "Mike, can you give me anything else? There are far too many warehouses."

"No. The rain was too heavy, I couldn't see anything."

"Can you go out and have a look? One of them has a big crane near the front. Another has three shipping containers. The last one has a ship docked near it. Anything, Mike."

There was a pause. "G-go out and look?" Mike groaned incredulously. "I can't!"

"Why not?"

There was no response at first. "I can't. My leg is hurt."

"What about Tai?" Even as Robert said that, he knew the boys wouldn't want to split up for even a second.

"He's badly hurt dad..." Mike audibly swallowed. "Where are you? Are you coming for us?"

"Shit!" the fox mumbled, thumping a balled up paw on the whiteboard. "We can't get you without any idea which warehouse you're in, Mike. There are too many of them, so you have to give me something to work with. I know you're hurt but you have to suck it up and do something!"

"I... d-dad... please?" The kit's voice cracked slightly, and Robert lidded his eyes.

What was wrong with him lately?!

"I'm sorry, Mike. I'm here. You'll be okay, I promise. I'm coming to get you. Just need to know where you are first, that's all. If you can tell me that, this will all be done."

Mike sniffed. "I'm sorry dad..."

"It's alright; you've done so well already. I don't know if I'd've been able to stay safe as well as you boys have. If I could, I'd take over everything from here, but I can't just yet. I'm sorry." Robert growled quietly at himself. "Where are you exactly? How are you speaking to me?"

"E-exactly?" The ten-year-old sounded puzzled. "In an office. Um, we're using a phone we found in an office in a warehouse."

"Will you be able to call back? If something else comes up?"

"I guess... but dad, don't go! Just stay on the phone!"

"Mike, I..." Robert paused. "I have to go, at least for a minute. But wait, I need you to look around. There has to be a clue about where you are in that office."

"Like what?"

"Anything. Just look around. I really do need you to tell me exactly where you are, Mike. Exactly. So just do your best, and call me back in a minute. I'm going to talk to the police and see what else we can do."

"... Okay. Make sure you pick up!"

"I will."

"... Alright. You hang up first?"

Robert smiled in spite of it all. "I will. Talk soon, Mike. I'm so proud of you." Canceling the call, the fox rounded on the sergeant, who had been watching quietly. "Alright, we have some more information - sort of."

"Why didn't you tell him?" Tai enquired, clutching desperately to Mike's arms, hoping he could leech enough heat to stop the shivering. There wasn't much to leech.

Placing the phone besides them, Mike tried to help out by rubbing the smaller boy's torso. "Tell him what?"

"Why you really didn't want to go outside. He'll think your leg is really bad now."

Mike felt slightly embarrassed. "I'm not scared," he stated.

"But I could've gone to check."

"No," the older boy said firmly. "We're not splitting up again. We're safe here; I'm not risking snooping around outside. Besides, you're way too hurt."

Tai smiled and nuzzled into his friend's shoulder.

"I-I guess we should try to find some clues..." With obvious reluctance, Mike released the smaller kit and tried to crawl out from under the big desk. "Ah! My leg is really sore!"

Tai sat forward. "Shouldn't we do something?" he asked. "You're still bleeding, I think. Doesn't it hurt?"

"Yes!" Mike whimpered. He struggled to his paws again. "Shit! Owwww!"

Today, Tai realized, he'd heard the well-spoken older boy swear more than in the entire time he'd known him.

"What do we have to do for your leg? Shouldn't we do it first?" Still trembling, Tai crawled out behind his friend.

Teary-eyed, Mike glanced at the first-aid kit. "I-I don't know," he said fearfully. "I don't want to do it yet."

"What do we have to do?"

Mike bit his lip, pretending to scan the desktop. "Umm... ever had that brown, stinky stuff put on a cut?" he asked, absently trying to wriggle the hand-cuffs that still bit into his wrists. He had almost forgotten about them by now, despite the fact they clearly were pinching his nerves. The sharp, stabbing pain had only gotten worse over time. "Anti-septic?"

"Yeah."

"Remember how it stings like hell?"

"Uh-huh."

"You know how it hurts much more the worse the cut is? Well this is the worst cut I've ever had."

"Oh." Tai looked briefly at the back of Mike's thigh. The matted fur and thick, adhesive blood obscured the injury entirely. "I get it."

The brown-furred kit overturned some papers, scowling as he searched for a way to identify their hiding place. "I-I guess we have to do it," he admitted, "but I'd rather wait."

After a thoughtful moment, Tai frowned at him. "You can die if you keep bleeding, can't you?"

Mike flinched. "Y-yeah but it's not that bad! Don't do that!" Nonetheless he anxiously tried to look over his shoulder at the bleeding gash.

"Sorry."

The fruitless, stumbling search continued. Mike wasn't even sure what he was looking for. Would the warehouse have a name? Be numbered? They had to find out what warehouse they were in, but Mike did not want to even leave the office. The prospect of going back outside scared him.

No. Truth was, he was just out-and-out scared. He shook, but not just from the cold, and he still felt light headed. His stomach was uncomfortably tight, and a sickening acid had boiled up within him and kept threatening to make him throw up. The encounter with Marco had tripled that uneasy, burning nausea and...

"Shit!" he cursed again, falling against the desk. He squeezed his hazel eyes tightly shut and tried to fight it, but it was pointless. He shouldn't have started to think about it. The kit started to cry again.

"Mike, what's wrong?!" Tai limped over to him.

Mike just shook his head. He said something, but Tai couldn't understand a word. Instead, the tawny kit stepped closer and lightly touched his friend's shoulder. "It's okay, Mike," he whispered. "We're safe now. All we have to do is find a way out."

"I know, I know!" Mike held his breath.

Suddenly, the littler kit embraced him. "I know how it's like. I really do. It's scary, and you shake all over for ages afterwards. Just want to cry and wait for it to be over. You want to stop being scared because it feels so bad. But we'll be okay, Mike. We got away from him, he can't hurt us."

Mike clung to him. "This is so stupid," he sniffed. "What are we supposed to look for?! How can we tell what warehouse this is?!"

"I don't know. Maybe we'll just have to tell your dad we can't find out?"

"He'll just tell us to go outside and look. He won't understand."

Tai shook his head. "We'll have to think of something else. He'll understand." He paused. "I-I trust your dad. He'll understand."

Mike stared at the desk, thinking. "Alright." Mike froze for a moment. Then he looked distinctly uncomfortable. "W-wait..."

He marched purposefully over to the waste bin in the corner of the room and, as Tai watched on in bemusement, the barky-furred kit doubled over and puked into it with a loud, gagging retch.

Coughing, Mike straightened again. "Ughh. L-let's look some more before we call dad and tell him we give up."

"Uhh, okay."

They stared at one another for a few moments, before bashful grins found their ways onto both kits' faces.

"That was kinda random, huh?" Mike chortled, wiping his muzzle on a wrist.

"And kinda gross!"

The storm had arrived.

Darron stared unseeingly out over the waterfront, slouching against a warehouse's cold concrete wall. Before him, the scum he'd been placed in command of, supposedly, scurried about like roaches as the rain mercilessly pounded them. Despite their ceaseless complaints, Darron barely noticed it, even though his hoodie was soaked through.

There was only a single other container to load onto this ship. Another two for the other. It was almost over for tonight. The job was almost finished.

But not for Darron.

The harsh white noise of the rain was amplified by his hood, and it consumed his senses. It merged seamlessly with his train of thought: a dark, cruel fury that just howled meaninglessly around in his mind.

The rain. The sound of it. The chill. The glistening concrete and granite all around him, drenched in the shadow of a moonless night. The storm.

He remembered it all, with vivid... excruciating... detail. He remembered it all. He even remembered that sickening warmth of blood as it seeped through his fur and over his cold skin, could still feel it even now. Memories he tried so hard for years to bury, they had suddenly, violently clawed their way to the forefront of his thoughts tonight.

Tonight should have been the night he avenged her, did something, and gained some form of victory in his pointless life, but... he screwed up. The little shit escaped him. Got away when there was no damn excuse for Darron to have let him. Anger was all he felt though. None of the longing, none of the pain. None of the... love, or warmth he desperately wanted back. Memories of those moments were few and far between.

It was all gone now.

He didn't even hear the bulldog at first. He was so used to ignoring the muscle-bound thug, and he certainly wasn't attentive at the moment.

"Those little shits are going to screw everything," the brawny canine said, a touch of contempt in his voice. He joined the wolf under the meager refuge of the warehouse's overhanging roof.

Darron blinked, snapping himself back into the present. "What?"

"Yeah. What." The bulldog folded his thickly muscled arms. "I knew it was a fuckin' stupid idea to involve you."

"The fuck are you talking about?" Darron sighed darkly. His patience for this bellicose moron and his tiger friend was nonexistent at this point. "I wasn't the brainless fuck who let them escape."

"Yeah, yeah, you're just the one who brought them here in the first place. You think we're all fucking stupid. Trying to play us all. Newsflash kid, you're still just a dick-wit teenager that doesn't know better than to fuck with adults. You think nobody would figure it out?" The canine spat on the ground. "Our fuckin' guy just goin' out and killing some vixen and getting himself done in too? Now you're after these kids, sayin' some bullshit about weeding out the other CIA rats - and we don't even know there are any. It don't take a genius to figure that vixen was the one who killed your whore mother, and you're just trying to fuck with her kids now."

A chill that was not from the weather spread through Darron's body. Like a cold water that ran from his heart to his fingertips. But he said nothing.

"Thanks to you, we've got the kids of two fuckin' spooks loose here right while we're in the middle of a shipment. They stole Tony's phone; how much you wanna bet the little shits have called daddy already? All we know, we could have the fuckin' army here in five minutes. Some fuckin' spook sniper could have your empty little head right in his crosshair right now." The bulldog's voice strained with anger and derision. "You're gonna fuck up an operation that's been untouchable for over a decade, if you haven't already. Maybe now he's gonna realize he shoulda sent you to join mommy the moment you got back." Shaking his head, the dog pushed off the wall and started to walk away. "Can't wait to see what he does then, shit-head."

Darron shook. Before he knew it, he was moving. The howling rain surged, yet even still he knew his paws made no sound.

Rage darkened his vision only momentarily, and when it returned, the sight that greeted him brought a satisfied smile to his face.

The thug gurgled wetly, his body trembling in reflexive spasm. Darron pulled him closer by the knife handle buried in the side of the thick neck, neatly severing his windpipe. No outcry had even been possible. Once more on a rainy night, he felt that creeping warmth seep through his fur.

This time, he didn't care. He welcomed it.

"You sicken me," he snarled into the startled dog's ear. "You took everything from me, and you didn't once think...?" A sudden feral urge to rip the huge thug's face open with his very teeth threatened to overwhelm the wolf's mind. Instead, he wrenched the blade free, destroying his victim's throat entirely and spattering the ground with blood. "Ever think I want every single one of you cunts dead?!"

Darron pulled the dying fur around, glaring into his panicked eyes as they gradually lost focus. The wolf trembled, unbelievable hatred consuming him whole. Boundless anger, frustration and bitterness, so poorly contained for almost eight years, and it all flowed freely now.

He raised the knife again.

"I want everybody fucking dead!!"

When the phone rang again, Robert's finger was already hovering over the answer button.

"Hello?" he asked, contorting himself to allow an officer to squeeze past him in the claustrophobic van.

"Dad," Mike's voice began. "We can't find anything. Can you think of anything else?"

Robert hissed in cold disappointment. If they'd gotten a more accurate location, the police could've just extracted the kits quickly and quietly. But they'd have to try the alternative the sergeant had offered. The one Robert hated. "I was just talking with the police here," he said slowly to his son. "We do have another idea."

"Yeah?"

Robert hesitated. Should he just order the boys to stay put? Or try this stupid plan to get them out of the site of a possible firefight?

The sergeant was watching him, and he caught the fox's eye. He simply nodded once.

Damn it.

"You have to head to the giant crane. It'll be visible to you almost anywhere if you just look up and around. It's massive, several storeys high, and there's a red beacon-light on top of it."

"... What...?" the boy whispered in a tiny voice.

"You'll have to move, Mike. Come to us. We can't come to you if you don't know where you are. We need to get you out of there."

"Okay..."

"I know." Robert closed his eyes. This was fucking stupid. "I know you're scared. But there are your choices, Mike. I'll let you decide. Whatever we settle on, I will get you both out of there. I promise."

There was some urgent, hushed conversation on the other side. The kits were discussing it, but Robert couldn't make out a single word. He knew his son was a smart kid, but if they misjudged their own abilities here, or made one mistake... they wouldn't make it home alive.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" he quietly asked the sergeant.

The canine shrugged. "Hell no. But everything you've told me? I don't think we should let them just sit around. They're not safe there, and we have to assume the bad guys hold the security control centers and checkpoints - for all we know, they've been seen on the CCTV and their hiding place is compromised already."

"And there'll be plenty of cameras in the warehouses..." Robert growled to himself. "Aw, damn it."

"The crane's the best landmark on the docks, near an entrance and it's very open. I can get snipers to cover the area very well, even from outside the fence, and we can get to them fast. I want the hostages out before we try to contact the assholes in there - they'll step up their efforts to find them if we do it the other way around."

"Dad?" the phone squeaked. "O-okay. We'll try it. We're hurt but we can do it."

"Hurt?" Robert demanded, his eyes widening. "What's wrong?"

"My leg's been cut, and Tai was beat up."

Robert swore. "Alright, look, if you're sure you can handle getting to the crane, we'll meet you there."

"We don't know where the crane is, though!"

"That's fine. You'll find it. It's away from the water, and look for the beacon lights up high. Listen, Mike..." Robert turned slightly and lowered his voice. For some reason, he didn't think the police needed to hear. "I'm so proud of you. You're both so brave. I can't believe how well you've done. It's still your choice. You can wait there if you like. If you do go for the crane, the cops will set up snipers to try and protect you. All you need to do is be quiet and get there."

"Stealthy?"

"Exactly. Don't need to be quick about it. Just take your time and be safe. Just be safe."

"Okay..." The kit sniffed. "Um... j-just in case: I love you, dad."

Robert smiled. "You know what, Mike? Tell me about it when we get home. Does pizza sound good tonight?"

"I don't think we can do this..." muttered Tai.

"Of course we can," Mike told him. "Just w-wrap it around the cut. Not too tight!"

Tai eyed the bloodstained, exposed section of Mike's thigh. The wound bled still, the watery redness slowly seeping into the matted fur like diluted paint. It was disgusting, and Tai was glad the wet fur obscured his view of the gash. "Are you sure we're not supposed to put anything else there? What about that stinging stuff?"

"It's only temporary!"

"What does that mean?"

"It's just for a little while."

With a shrug, Tai gave up. "Okay..."

It took a little time for Tai to get the bandage around his friend's leg. He tried to be careful, but even still, Mike winced. "Ow!"

"Too tight?"

"No, it just hurts. I'm okay." Mike inhaled deeply. "S-so, did you see a crane anywhere? Do you know where we're meant to go?"

"... No." Carefully, Tai knotted the bandage in place. It was a terrible job, but then again, he had no idea what he was doing. His fingers were still numb, too. "... Mike, I don't want to..."

The barky-furred pup straightened. "Me neither..."

"Can't we just wait?" Tai stumbled backwards, barely regaining his balance before slamming into the filing cabinet again. He leaned on it heavily.

They were both tired.

It wasn't just a tiredness like they felt before bedtime, but a horrible weariness that pervaded their whole, hurting bodies. After the encounter with the tiger, then after calming down in the dubitable safety of the office, Tai had noticed his vision becoming fuzzier and distant. Disconnected. Like he was sleepily watching a boring school play rather than facing a harrowing, dangerous reality.

It was impossible to imagine Mike felt much better. Yet the older boy seemed pretty focused.

"We don't know how safe we are here!" he insisted rationally. "Someone just has to look inside and see... they'll find us."

Tai groaned weakly, trying to fight the urge to ignore Mike's words and fall asleep right then and there on the bristly, unpleasant carpet.

Sighing, Mike leaned on the desk. He looked around, and had to admit he felt a little dizzy. Only minutes before, he'd wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep. Then the mere idea of getting to true safety, being in his dad's arms again, had given him a glimmer of energy. Like a small spark of hope.

But even still, the plan to just hide and let everything blow over still sounded so very, very appealing.

Tai stumbled into the messy desk and slowly lowered himself to the ground. "Unhh..." he moaned quietly. "A-are you sure we can do it, Mike?"

Sadly, Mike appraised his exhausted friend for a few moments, and then sighed. "No. I'm not."

"Do we have to?" Tai rested his head on the desk's side.

"Yeah. It'll be dangerous, but so will staying in here. We gotta be tough."

Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Tai almost seemed to fall asleep. Then he took a deep, shaky breath and pulled himself upright. "Okay. I-if you say so."

That settled it, Mike supposed. "Okay. Did you see a huge crane anywhere? Bigger than any of the buildings?"

"No."

"That's our first objective!" Mike smiled wanly. "We need to find the crane. That's our mission."

"Okay." Tai returned the faint smile.

Mike picked up the phone and stabbed in his father's phone number. He took a deep breath and held it to his perked ear.

In seconds, Robert had answered the phone. In a quavering voice, Mike told his father their decision. Tai simply watched and listened, ears pricked.

"Alright." Mike nodded glumly. "We'll be careful. Love you dad... so does Tai." The tawny kit blinked. "We will..."

Expectantly, Tai waited while his friend placed the phone on its cradle. "What did he say?"

The brown-furred kit blinked wearily. "W-we have to find the crane. There're lots of bad guys out there, so we need to be sneaky. We don't need to rush... the cops are gonna set up snipers."

"What's that?"

"Um, they hide and shoot enemies from ages away." Mike pushed away from the desk. "If they can see us, they'll shoot any bad guys that get close to us."

They started to limp towards the small office's exit. "I guess we can go the way... he got in," Tai suggested.

Hobbling after him, Mike nodded. "I s'pose. It's gotta lead somewhere." Truth was that Mike was glad Tai thought of heading that way. He didn't want to pass near the stairs leading to the fire-escape, or be forced to look at either of the corpses he knew were near there.

They stumbled together along the short service corridor Marco and the lemur had exploded from. Another dry, musty and unpleasant hallway - Mike was getting sick of those already, though he had to admit they were better than warehouses, or being out in the torrential rain... or in the drainage ducts again.

On the wall they spotted a corkboard, with various notes pinned on it. Mike gave it a passing glance, but it just seemed to be timetables or schedules of some sort. Fuse boxes and pipes lined the short corridor as well, but neither kit was curious enough to investigate anymore.

The unlocked door at the other end predictably opened into another messy alleyway. Mike poked his head out and was instantly blinded by the pelting rain as it cascaded off the warehouse roof and splashed into his face.

He flinched away. "Ugh!" he groaned. "I hate the rain!!"

"What's wrong?" squeaked Tai.

"Rain in my eyes!" The brown-furred kit again snuck a peek outside, this time covering his head with a paw. The alleyway was clear, but almost instantly he felt the nip of the cold, and wanted to retreat back inside.

It had been bad before, but without a shirt he felt the breeze penetrate his fur easily. Going shirtless was something he'd done many times before, but never, ever before had he though to try it in heavy, frigid rain for some reason. Tai had been enduring it up until now though, and there was no dignified way Mike could ask for his shirt back. Besides, Tai needed it more than he did.

Glancing back, he saw his friend cringing away from the doorway.

"Come on," Mike said gently. "It's okay. We'll only be out for a little while."

Tai shivered and shot his friend a reproving, sour glance. "But we don't even know where we're going," he complained.

"We'll find out. C'mon."

It didn't seem like Tai wanted to move just yet. So Mike did the one thing he was sure would get him moving.

Without waiting, he snuck out into the alley, shielding his eyes from the rain. Trying to keep as much of the rain as he could off of him, he stayed close to the warehouse' wall, seeking shelter in its shadow. Eventually, he heard Tai give a plaintive whimper and start to follow.

"Mike, slow down!" Tai limped over to his friend. As Mike stepped around a large dumpster, Tai moved to follow but tripped on the metal bin's edge. "Ah!"

Immediately Mike turned and helped him up. "You okay?"

"Ow! I'm alright."

"OK, we need to find the crane... maybe we can get up higher and look around?" Mike looked up, shielding his eyes again. There were fire escapes on both of the large warehouses, but none of them reached the rooftops. "Ugh. Let's keep going."

Tai wrapped his arms tightly around himself, slowly padding after Mike as the older boy led the way. Mike stopped at every corner and peeked surreptitiously around them, silently beckoning Tai to follow him. The rain crashed noisily down around them, and Tai had to squint to see more than several feet away. They struggled onwards though. Tai instinctively trusted his friend to scout the unlit alleys and dark passageways at each turn.

Luckily, they never encountered anyone.

At last Mike led them past the warehouses, and they found themselves amidst a forest of shipping containers.

As far as Tai could tell, there were hundreds of them, laid out in orderly grid formation in a huge concrete field. He ducked closer to one of them, trying to hide from the rain.

The older boy slowed down when they past several of them, stopping eventually to gaze skywards.

"What i-is it?" asked Tai.

Mike raised a paw to his eyes. "Dad said that there was a red light on top of the--" He flinched away. "Ah! Crud! A raindrop just landed in my eye!"

Tai looked up and frowned. A heavy mist had descended over the docks. The frigid ocean winds and rain was reacting with the comparative warmth of the land, creating a dense fog. He could see nothing. As he stood squinting into the rain, the wind whipped up and swept down the vast aisle of shipping containers. Standing so upright and caught off guard, Tai was blown against the thick metal of one of the containers.

Dazed, he fell to his backside.

"Tai, you okay!?" Mike cried, stumbling himself.

Tai nodded. He looked up to address his friend. "I'm okay..." Something caught his eye. A faint glimmer of color that flickered weakly through the twisting shroud of mist and rain. He frowned, staring just beyond his friend's head. Was that...?

There it was again. Almost impossible to see. A faint, red dot blinking in the fog. It was high off the ground, judging from the angle. Very high.

"There!" He pointed, pulling himself upright. "Over there!"

Puzzled, Mike looked around. "I don't..."

"Right there!" claimed Tai, pointing. "No, up a bit!"

"I can't... oh." Mike swallowed. His shoulders visibly slumped. "Th-that's gotta be ages away!"

"Not really!" Tai said excitedly. "When the weather is like this, sometimes even when things are really close you can't see them."

"I've been in fog before..." Mike said dubiously.

"I've been in fog hundreds of times! Mom and dad used to work at the harbor, a long way from home! Sometimes wh-when I was with them, and it started raining, this super-thick mist would come in from the sea. You could get lost in the parking lot!"

Mike groaned. "That's not good!"

"But we can see that light! It has to be close!" Tai felt a rush of relief. Judging from the wind and what little he could figure out of their orientation, their goal lay in the opposite direction from the stormy waterfront. He approved of that.

With a resigned groan, Mike started to trudge in the direction of weak beacon light. "Alright... let's go."

Tai staggered after him. The sudden movement blurred his vision and he stumbled, be he pressed on. Suddenly, he understood what 'bone-weary' meant. It was such a deep tiredness, but the need to keep moving, to stay awake, and to endure the freezing rain, kept him from truly feeling sleepy. It wasn't something he'd felt before. In a way, it was almost interesting.

They wandered the maze of metal boxes for an indeterminate amount of time. Exhausted as they were, moments seemed to blend together. Occasionally, Tai felt a strange falling sensation and he caught himself a split second from collapsing to the ground. Each time he did, he struggled to refocus on the brown-furred body that was only feet away, but as hazy and indistinct as everything else in the fog.

Walking along on autopilot, Tai didn't even register the loud scraping sound and the clanging of metal. However, Mike whirled around, grabbing Tai's shoulders and urgently pulling him back. "Get back!" he hissed at his startled friend, sounding frightened.

They ducked behind the narrow side of a container, and Mike peeked around it while Tai rested against it.

Puzzled, Tai strained to hear what was going on.

The clanging continued, and he felt vibrations travel down the container's length. There was some muted chatter, but he couldn't make anything out.

Heart thumping in his ears again, Mike peered intently into the obscuring mist. He hadn't heard the two adults - all sound muffled by the dense fog and drowned out by the pouring rain - until he almost rounded the corner and smacked into them. They had roughly jerked open one of the containers doors. Had they just been a little more gentle, Mike may not have noticed them until

"How many are there?" quavered Tai, tucking his paws under his armpits.

Mike noticed he was starting to shake now. Violently, the way Tai had earlier. The cold was starting to numb his body, and water was dripping incessantly from his nose. "J-just two, I-I think."

"What should we do?"

"I don't know! Hold still!"

There was another loud clang, and the container shook with a resounding bang as it was closed. Mike winced.

A powerful beam of light lanced out to the side of the metal oblong, and a rattling like that of a trolley could be heard. At first, it sounded like rumbling thunder. Mike frowned, trying to hear any hints of what was going on. The bright torchlight suddenly swung around and pointed directly at him. "At the other side!" the torch wielder cried loudly over the rain.

"Oh crap!" Mike squeaked, pulling his head in and clawing at Tai, trying to pull the smaller kit to his feet. "Come on, go, go!!"

Mike tried to pull his friend along, but Tai's cramped legs refused to work and he fell face first to the concrete. Panicking, Mike helped him up before resuming attempting to drag the kit with him.

They retreated back another container, and stopped to take cover behind it again. Mike leaned against the metal surface, breathing heavily as he heard the ear-piercing screech of the door they had just been hiding behind being wrenched open.

"Ow..." Tai groaned, rubbing at his knee. Despite his jeans and fur, he'd banged it on the wet concrete painfully. Another random injury to add to the collection.

Eventually, they stuck their sodden heads out past the container's edge and squinted into the fog. The adults slammed their container shut and started towards the one beside it. They were speaking, laughing to one another, but neither kit could hear them too well.

One of them withdrew a handgun, and the kits shrank back. Had they been seen?

But neither of the grownups turned around. The unarmed one undid the locks and deadbolts on the door and hauled it to the side, to the sound of an ear-rending scraping noise. They stepped into the large metal box.

Another voice suddenly could be heard. A younger, female voice.

A smaller figure burst out into the rain, and both boys gasped.

The fog rendered their vision indistinct, but it was clearly a smaller female. She stumbled drunkenly around before collapsing to the harsh blacktop, only just breaking her fall in time - her wrists were bound together. Even at the distance they were at, her disoriented sobbing was easy to hear.

One of the adult furs, the one with the handgun, hauled her to her paws and dragged her back to the container. With a mocking laugh, he cuffed her on the back of the head and callously shoved her in. It was impossible to see what was happening in the container, but then neither of them was entirely sure they wanted to.

Whimpering, Mike found himself clutching his smaller friend's paw. "T-Tai? What's going on?"

The tawny kit drew away from the sight. "Th-they're gonna sell her."

"She's a slave?"

Tai shook his head. "She's a person. They kidnapped her."

"We have to help!" Mike bit his lip for a second. Then he groaned in frustrated fear. "Unnhh! We can't!"

"They'll just beat us up and take us too." Tai looked up at his friend with wide eyes. "We'll tell your dad. The police. They'll rescue them."

After a moment, Mike nodded. In a very peculiar way, it hurt to agree. There was nothing they could do. They were just kids. Though he hated even thinking that, it was true: the container would be locked, and they were no match for the grownups who held the keys. Nor did they have the time to sneak around looking for other options.

They had to leave these people behind them and hope the police could save them.

"We... we should move!" Mike's voice shook noticeably. They had nearly been spotted.

Tai nodded, limping closer to his friend's side. "Okay."

"Let's move out to the side a bit..." suggested Mike, shakily wiping at his sopping head and facial fur. "Then keep going towards the light."

Tai nodded. "Alright."

The sergeant circled the area on the satellite map with a thick red marker before turning to address the team. And of course Robert, who refused to be left out of the quick field briefing.

After all, he had something for them, and he'd be damned if he couldn't contribute to saving his own children.

They had quickly transferred to another van. Or rather, a truck, which was significantly more spacious. Heavily armed and armored officers watched their sergeant with a quiet confidence, and their professional bearing instilled far more confidence in Robert than he'd felt in the last twelve hours. After quickly filling in his officers on the situation, the sergeant turned to the fox.

"Mister Donaldson, you said you had some intelligence for us?" he asked in a clipped voice.

Now it was his turn. Robert coughed and stepped forward. He lifted up his laptop and set it on the table just near the whiteboard, turning it to display the screen to the assembled police officers. "Yeah," he murmured, his throat oddly dry. "Yes, we do. There's a large amount of cellular radio transmissions in the docks at the moment. Far more than you'd expect at two in the morning, and not near any of the guard posts."

The officers just watched him quietly. Robert felt himself getting slightly nervous. "As I'm sure you know, cell phones today are equipped with geo-positional systems. As, uh, as your sergeant explained to you just before, this is how we managed to locate the hostages before their signal died. They're usually very accurate." He hit the return key and a detailed overhead map filled the fifteen inch screen, with yellow blinking dots slowly crawling all over it like lethargic ants. "Anyone holding a working cellular phone in the docks tonight is having their movements tracked by global positioning satellite. Here we have a high-definition map of the entire, uh, docks, and we've got their positions superimposed on it. Unfortunately, the storm is making high-definition satellite surveillance almost impossible, and it's screwing with GPS signals." Robert coughed. "This is the best we can really do. If the bad guys have a mobile phone on them, we can get their rough position. I imagine that can be relayed from this laptop to anyone in the field by radio?"

An officer, a wiry dingo, nodded. "Sure can, sir," he confirmed. "It's a safe bet most of the perps have cell phones, too."

"The CIA can do this shit?" murmured a raccoon officer, looking discomfited.

Robert chuckled. "The CIA?" he laughed. "I'm not using CIA resources to do this - I can't. Any nosy wanker with a working internet connection nowadays can trace someone via their cell phone. All I've done is asked my friends in the office to help me collate the data onto a publicly available map."

"Alright," The sergeant said gruffly. "Here's what we've had to do. The hostages were incapable of giving us their location, so they've been instructed to head to the large construction crane marked on the map. The construction site is relatively new, a new warehouse block, and it's as unobstructed an extraction point as we're going to get." He quickly drew a few crosses on the map. "It's also street-side. Franca and Skenazy, you'll be on top of this multi-storey car park. Avery and Jackson, you guys'll be up here on this office building's roof. We haven't had time to check out these locations, but they should let you cover the rescue team. Rescue team, you guys make your way to the construction site. When the hostages come into contact with you, take them into custody and get out of there. Extraction point is here." Now he marked a spot on the main dockside road, only a few hundred meters from the construction site but nonetheless outside the dockyard's boundaries.

"There will be medics there ready to give them medical attention and get them downtown." The canine eyed Robert firmly. "This is where you'll be waiting. Go with your kids to the hospital. We'll handle the rest. Leave the other agents here with us. I think you've done all you need to do."

"Alright," Robert said. He was tingling all over. "I can do that."

"What little information we've got indicates little activity near the construction site. Don't expect many contacts there, all the activity is towards the waterfront and warehouses, but if you see anyone endanger the hostages, take them down. If you can see clear to doing so only, bring them in. We've got two children to rescue here, don't take any chances." The sergeant shook his head. "Alright. Marksmen, get to your positions. We don't have much time. Extraction team, let's talk about how you're getting there..."

Robert spaced out. The image of the lazy, doughnut-devouring NYPD officer was crumbling before his eyes. Whether for good or ill, these officers probably took their job more seriously than anyone he'd ever met - possibly even more so than those he'd met in the military. It was reassuring, but a bit unnerving. It reminded him of why he steered clear of surveillance teams and some of the more intense jobs at the agency. It was a chaotic business at times, and he was glad when he finally got his cosy office-bound analyst post away from the active operations. At least he didn't have people yelling at him to get some uncooperative bit of technology to work, as if fuzzy sat-imaging was due to him not wanting a clearer resolution enough. He'd had enough of that by his first two months; Robert preferred things to be a little more relaxed.

The officers the sergeant had picked out stood and bustled out of the van.

The sergeant went on, offering directions to the remaining officers. Robert watched on.

Eventually, the briefing was over, and all the cops quickly got to their paws and left with nary a word. The sergeant came over to Robert.

"Like I said," he began, "I'll have an ambulance and paramedics waiting up the dockside road. You should wait with them. From what you've told me, they're going to need a hospital visit."

Robert smiled. "They probably will. Not that they'll be happy about it."

"Just remind them they'll be getting lollypops if they behave for the doctor. They still do that, right?" The sergeant smiled wryly.

"Honestly, I have no idea." Robert chortled. "I imagine the emergency room works differently to the family doctor's office."

"We'll have several officers waiting with you. I doubt anyone will follow the SWAT team to the ambulance, but just in case."

"They can also keep an eye on me, right?"

"That too." The sergeant shrugged. "Nothing personal. I'm sure you consider yourself otherwise but for all intents and purposes you're a civilian here."

"Believe me, sergeant. I wish I really was one. Then none of this would've happened."

The rain wasn't letting up. Once again, Tai's entire body had gone numb and his muscles had contracted painfully. As they stumbled wearily along the side of yet another long, unremarkable building, his slender legs went stiff.

With a weak gasp, Tai fell against the dull brick wall. "Wait!" he groaned. "Mike!"

The bigger boy stopped slinking along and looked back. As quickly as he could, he limped over. "Are you alright?" the brown furred kit asked, helping his friend upright again. "What happened?"

Tai shook his head. "I don't know!" A white flash lit up the sky, briefly blinding both of the kits. Scarcely half a second later, a mind-shatteringly loud explosion shook the ground. Unable to help himself, Tai jumped and gave a tiny scream.

Even Mike winced. "It's okay!" he said, though his words were hard to discern over the rain. "Come on. You can do it! We've not got long to go!"

Shakily, the tawny kit leaned on his friend and took a step. "Unh!" he sobbed, collapsing against Mike's side. "My legs hurt!"

Mike whimpered to himself. "I-it's a cramp!" he said. "That's all! It's coz it's cold and we've been doing a lot of running."

Tai shook his head again, this time more vigorously. "I can't walk!"

"Tai, we can't stop!"

"Please! I can't walk anymore!" On cue, Tai's knees buckled and gave out, forcing Mike to catch him. He gave a strangled cry. "Ow! Mike! It hurts!"

After a moment, Mike swore in a strangely whining voice. "Okaaay... come on, let's find a place to rest! There was a place back this way."

Supporting the smaller kit's weight again, Mike limped back the way they had come. They headed back to an undercover parking bay that they had past not long ago, where a large semi-trailer was parked. Mike took them both towards the back of the darkened recess until their progress was blocked by the thick metal roller door shutting off the building's interior loading bay.

"Here!" the barky-furred kit gasped, slowly easing the smaller boy to the ground between the massive shutter and the imposing grill of the gigantic vehicle. The most sheltered spot available.

He pulled over a nearby milk crate and nearly slipped on a sodden newspaper, causing another fresh burst of pain to wrack the cut on the back of his thigh. Then he promptly slid to the wet bitumen himself. "Ah, ow!" he groaned. "T-Tai, sit on the crate."

Tai groaned quietly, gingerly rubbing at his calves and thighs. "I c-can't! My leg won't listen, I can't stand up."

"Okay, never mind then." Smiling slightly, Mike scooted a little closer. "It's a charley horse," he said clinically. "Must be a pretty bad one."

Tai didn't reply, instead focusing on trying to massage his legs. "Oww!" he whined, balling up a fist and weakly pounding his thigh. "This hurts worse than anything!"

"What about what happened to your ribs?"

The tawny kit blinked. "E-except that."

Mike snorted, leaning against the metal shutter and closing his eyes. The steady hissing of the rain was oddly pleasant.

It felt so nice to just be sitting down. To let his eyes close.

"No!" Mike suddenly growled at himself, snapping his eyes open again. "Ngh. T-Tai, we can't wait too long. We're not safe here."

"Okay." Tai groaned and stretched his leg. "This is stupid."

"Huh?"

"I'm sick of getting hurt." The tawny kit blinked owlishly, staring at his leg as the pain slowly ebbed away. It didn't disappear entirely, but it did diminish. "It's stupid."

Mike shrugged wearily. "We haven't been shot," he said reasonably. "That's good."

"Some of them had bigger guns. Did you see?" Tai rubbed at his face, trying to stop the water dripping into his eyes. "Um, not pistols. Bigger."

"No..." Slowly and ungainly, Mike lurched to his paws and staggered to the truck's cabin. "They did? What sort of guns?"

"I don't know. I don't know much about guns."

Mike peered down the length of the semi-trailer at the lashing rain outside. The storm showed no signs of calming, at least not yet. Even still, he figured it'd be a bad idea to wait for it to calm anyway. His dad said the police would be waiting.

"I bet my dad has a gun," he murmured aloud. "He just hid it from me."

"My mom did." Tai shifted. "A bigger one. It was dad's. Um, a rifle I think it's called. He used to hunt stuff with it."

"Your dad was a hunter?!" Mike turned around. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. He said it was easier to hunt for meat for the winter, um, rather than go shopping at the market and spend all our money." Tai nodded. "He once told me he first went hunting when he was ten."

"Whoa. He was my age?" Mike leaned on the cold metal. "Did he get to shoot anything or was he just watching his dad?"

"He said he used to hunt little things by himself when he was that age."

"Wow!" Mike frowned thoughtfully. "That'd be cool. Wish I could have a gun."

"Why?"

"Why not? Then I could've shot that jerk tiger. We wouldn't be here." After a pause, he stared right into Tai's watery green eyes. "And if you or your mom had a gun, don't you think your mom could still be here?"

Tai stared at his shoes. "I would've been too scared to do anything," the kit whispered dully. "I always am."

Mike shook his head. "No, you wouldn't be. No way."

"What? Why?"

The older boy just smiled.

Lieutenant Edwards was feeling decidedly old.

He wasn't actually old. No, he was coming up on his thirty-fifth birthday. The collie was in the prime of his life. Or so he kept telling himself.

However, he'd chosen tonight to show up to work slightly hung-over and with less sleep than he'd usually get by with. In fact, it had been some time since he'd done a live field operation of any kind with SWAT, but his 'seniority' bit him in the ass. They needed every single officer they could spare, rousing him from his warm bed he shared with his wife.

So, he slinked along miserably, the rest of his team following his lead. Their booted paws made no audible sound over the crashing of the rain, which splashed irritatingly into his goggles, and visibility was atrocious. It wasn't the most pleasant night, but if Edwards was right about things, they'd be grateful for the storm before things were done for the night. This was nothing like the usual op.

In fact, he couldn't recall doing anything like it in years of police work. It was always interesting to try new things, he just wished he was in a better position to enjoy it this time.

As they rounded the first building and snuck along its monotonous brick length, beginning their stealthy infiltration into the dockyards, a paw tapped his armored shoulder. "Sir, contact three o'clock high!" one of his officers hissed. "Sentry. Second floor fire escape, side of the warehouse."

Edwards ducked beside a large loaded pallet holding several dozen sodden cardboard boxes. His team took cover beside him, somehow managing to fit all four of them behind the pallet.

Squinting up in the savage rain, Edwards could scarcely focus on the silhouette leaning over the railing of the fire escape. From the looks of things, the guy was squinting blindly into the rainstorm himself.

"He's got a gun," muttered the lieutenant, shifting slightly. "And no peashooter either."

"I can take him from here."

Edwards shook his head. "Don't even think about it, we'd give our position to every son of a bitch with ears around here." The collie sighed and raised a paw to his shoulder-mounted radio. "Command, this is bravo-four. Got an armed sentry about thirty feet from us, on the second floor of the street-side warehouse fire-escape. Over."

"I guess this guy doesn't have a cell phone," murmured an officer wryly.

There was a pause. "Copy, bravo-four," his radio blurted, making him wince. "Charlie-two sees him also. Over."

Briefly, Edwards wondered who 'charlie-two' actually was. "Well, he's right above us. We'd appreciate some help here. Over."

"Ten-four, bravo-four. Our guy is taking the shot. Over."

The sentry shifted, leaning over the railing. Staring right at the pallet, trying to make sense of the movement he'd seen through the obscuring rain.

The officers didn't even hear the shot. However, they certainly heard the impact as the subsonic bullet smacked straight into the unwitting sentry's chest from six-hundred meters away. With a strangled cry, the shadowy figure was knocked sideways and toppled easily to the blacktop. He landed with a thud.

"Right. Tango down. Good shot. Shit - we've got to move him." With the appropriate paw-gesture, Edwards crept out from behind the pallet and led the way to the unmoving corpse on the cold bitumen, eyes watching every possible angle, including the roofs fire escapes, down the sights of his gun. "Hudson, get over here."

There was an odd delay before the other officer stepped forward and crouched at the dead sentry's legs. "Sir."

"Are you okay?"

Officer Hudson, a young raccoon, looked away uncomfortably. "Fine, sir. This is just... I just never expected to be hiding a body when I applied to SWAT."

"Me neither. This isn't your typical robbery or drunken ass-hat holding his kids 'hostage' though. Come on." Quickly, the officers dragged the body closer to the warehouse wall, concealing it as best they could.

However, as they checked the body over, Hudson gestured at the weapon slung around the sentry's neck. "Sir, look at that thing."

"What about it?" Edwards grunted, standing and fending off a bout of nausea. The bourbon was really talking back to him.

"That's no street-punk gun. It's a German battle rifle. Large caliber, not the sort of thing you carry around for poppin' critters. Look at the scope on it."

Edwards shrugged. "The spook told us what we were dealing with. These boys are gun-runners and smugglers. This jack-off alone probably made more money than half the department."

"Yes sir, but the only reason to have a sentry on duty with something like this is if they're expecting trouble. It's too obvious, and they wouldn't need it to recapture the hostages."

Fantastic, thought Edwards, scratching his muzzle. But that meant their time wasn't being wasted - there were serious bad guys here, and it was time for SWAT to do its job once again. "Fuck. Alright. Come on, our job's simple. We're just to get the hostages out, then we hold the perimeter while the Coast Guard get in there. Let the soldiers do their job, focus on ours." He straightened. "Right, let's hustle; and hope these stupid kids get to that crane so we don't have to go looking for them."

In silence, the two kits huddled together, sitting shivering in the corner up against the filthy concrete wall of the loading bay.

Tightly hugging one another's bodies together, desperate for what little warmth they could get, they stared at the concrete in front of them listlessly. Struggling to hold onto the miraculous second wind that had enabled them to get even this far. To even this dubious safety.

At last, Tai spoke. "I h-hate being this cold," he stated.

"I just hate the cold." Mike shifted slightly, trying to loosen his cramping limbs. "I like summer."

"I like winter. But y-you're supposed to have to have the right clothes for it." Tai rested his head on the older boy's shoulder. "If we had the stuff, I could make a fire for us. Hrrr..."

That surprised Mike for some reason. "You k-know how to make a campfire?"

"Uh-huh. Dad taught me. He taught me a lot of stuff about survival. When he died, mom tried to do it instead. Then she stopped, so school did it."

Mike groaned. "Why couldn't we have gotten lost in a forest or something then?" he complained. "At least then one of us would know what to do."

"Um, yeah. Remember I told you he was a hunter when he was younger? I don't remember where he grew up, but it got really cold and snowy there too, so he taught me what his dad told him. I was really, really young, so I can't remember most of it..."

In fact, it was one of the only things Tai really remembered of his dad. The frustrating mornings where the patient grownup had tried to teach his four-year-old son how to tie knots using a bootlace. He hadn't gotten a single one down right until some months after his dad had died.

His mother's tutelage was more successful, probably because he was older. But as time went on, both of them started to lose interest. Eraline never really seemed to believe Tai could learn what she tried to teach him, and Tai detected her hurtful attitude easily, making every failure, every day it took to learn something, frustrate and upset him all the more. Soon, the lessons stopped, to the relief of both of them.

Luckily for the fox kit, who relished his time alone in the snowy wilds, every single school he attended saw the merit of teaching the students some basic survival tricks, given where most of their students lived, and Tai practiced them whenever he could - it was an excuse to go out alone, if nothing else. School was horrible, and he knew his dad could have taught him better, but at least these rare lessons were something he was interested in. The whole twenty minutes a week they spent on the topic, he devoured it as joyfully as he could.

"You never told me much about your dad..." Mike mused aloud.

"I can't think of anything to say," Tai deflected quietly.

Though Mike nodded. "I know... I don't like talking about my mom much. I bet you don't wanna talk about your dad either."

Tai thought for a moment. "I-I'll go first?"

"Okay."

The tawny kit frowned slightly as he tried to think of a place to begin. It wasn't easy. "Um. He died when I was really young. I really don't remember much."

"Didn't you say he died when you were four, right?"

"Yeah. I was nearly five though." Tai's ears slowly flattened to his skull. "I miss him. He used to play with me. I-I'm sorry, Mike. I don't remember."

Mike shrugged slightly. "It's okay. My mom was like that... She was really nice. Dad and her took turns to be with me during the day."

"You never went to school?"

Mike shook his head. "Psh. No. Always been home-schooled. I'm a home boy, yeah!"

"D-did your mom and dad always leave you home alone?" Tai looked up curiously. "Mine did. They had to."

That one gave Mike pause. "Well... not exactly," he said at last. "Dad doesn't leave me alone all the time, only sometimes. He usually takes me out with him to do the shopping, or go to meetings, parties, barbecues and stuff. Oh, and swim-meets, football games. I know what you mean though. I'm only alone for a few hours a week like when dad goes to lectures or stuff I don't need to go with him for - I asked him to leave me alone now and then."

"Oh. Is that where you met your friends?"

"Well, met them all over the place!" Mike chuckled. "You only met some of them, you know. Some of my friends are grownups."

"What? Really?" Tai blinked.

"Yeah," drawled Mike, as if the answer was obvious. "I don't care about how old you are. That's what school does: makes you think everyone is, like, divided into ages. We're not. Let's see... you're eight, younger than I am, Ernie and Aaron are fourteen and Jake's seventeen. He isn't the oldest either."

Tai was amazed to discover that this really confused him. Though it made sense, he supposed, the idea of having a friend so much older than him was bewildering. As if it went against some sort of unwritten law. Then again... Mike and, in a way, Jake had already shown him that it could happen.

"Why d'ya ask?" Mike suddenly enquired.

"Just wondered... When dad was alive, he'd stay with me when mom went out, and when he went out, mom was there." Tai sighed bitterly. "But then I started school and mom just left me there all day and I'd come home by myself."

"Hmm." Mike tenderly laid a paw on his friend's chest. "I never got to meet a friend like you though."

They fell silent for some time, exhaustion robbing them of words. Tai's head drooped slightly, and Mike shook him. "Don't sleep," he mumbled. "We gotta move soon."

The littler kit nodded. "Okay." He inhaled deeply through his nose. Then snorted a giggle back out. "You stink! Yeuch!"

There was no way to prevent it. Mike burst into giggles as well. "It's the water!" he explained. "From the pipes! The drains!"

Suddenly, Tai's laughter died down, and he hung his head.

"I'm sorry I acted like a little kid when we were in the pipe," Tai muttered sheepishly.

It took a few moments for Mike to even realize what he meant. "Oh. No. I acted like a jerk. Sorry I yelled at you."

Tai's ears slowly drooped. "I got scared. I know we have to be grown up until we get out of here, but... I-I'm sorry."

Swallowing, Mike shook his head. "I got scared too... I didn't mean anything I said to you then."

Further silence, before Mike groaned and started to haul himself to his paws. They'd gotten some desperately needed warmth and rest, but they needed to press on. "Ah!" He only just managed to refrain from clutching at his thigh. "Ow! H-here!"

Stooping awkwardly, Mike offered his paw to his friend. Tai pulled himself upright, hissing in pain as his leg reluctantly unbent.

They limped past the truck to the exit from the bay, and together they stopped to look outwards at the thundering rain and whirling mists. Through the fog, all things had become one distorted gray shadow, and even the pinpoints of light from the high poles and floodlights they knew were out there were faint and fading. Like iridescent fireflies drowning in the roiling storm.

Mike turned and beheld his friend's expression. Anxiety and dread stood plain upon Tai's face as he stared into the meaningless, cold chaos. Eventually, Tai's fearful eyes met Mike's.

"It's okay," Mike said. "Like we said. We've gotta be grown up now. If anyone can, you can do it Tai!"

Narrowing his eyes, Tai returned his gaze to the wild storm.

Yeah. Yeah, he could. He knew he could do what needed to be done. Could be strong enough to get it done.

Mike had taught him how.

Robert wrung his paws as he paced around the police car. He had been driven there by some regular officers, and now they waited alongside the ambulance. They had taken up station opposite the docks' thick perimeter fence, which was lined with coils of vicious razor-wire. Though they were technically in sight of the docks, they were far away from the activity they had detected, easily a mile deeper into the massive complex that hugged the Hudson River. As far and safe away as possible for a quick extraction.

By now, Robert's jacket was soaked through, but he couldn't make himself wait in the car. His mind was whirring. There was something wrong here. Or so he had convinced himself.

He had poured over the files, especially the ones containing what little information he could get on Eraline and her assignment eight years ago. There was something so very, very disturbingly wrong about everything right now.

The driver-side door was opened, and the bulkier of the two cops stepped out. He was wearing a thick, nylon jacket, appropriate to the weather and emblazoned with "POLICE" in thick, reflective lettering. It looked very unlike Robert's sorry excuse of a jacket.

"You okay, sir?" grumbled the officer, closing the door. "You don't look so good. I have some coffee if you'd want some."

Robert laughed nervously. "Oh, bloody hell," he chortled. "I'd love some, but I couldn't keep it down."

The cop nodded. Robert wasn't sure, but he thought it was a lion. He wasn't paying too much attention to things like that at the moment.

"You know, I have to admit," the cop said guardedly. "I thought something was shady about this whole thing. Drugs, kidnapping... I guess you could say I thought you were just trying to protect your turf."

Robert shivered. "Believe it or not, the CIA has never been involved in the sale of narcotics - or persons - on the homeland."

"That's not what the tabloids would have you believe," chortled the lion easily.

"The CIA has limited capacity on American soil," Robert said dryly. "If you're looking for a good target for conspiracy theories, try the FBI. We find out who's trying to blow up our citizens and stop them by sending the military after them. They throw our citizens in jail for smoking a plant."

"Interesting position for a guy working for the government."

"Working for it doesn't mean you have to agree with it all the time; and I was a freshman once." Robert smiled at the lion. "Thanks for trying, but I'm going to keep worrying no matter what."

"I had to try. You looked like hell." The officer chuckled again. Robert had to admit, the guy had a relaxing, deep voice. Oddly, it sort of helped. "You know, I'd swear I recognize you."

The fox wrapped his arms tightly around his body. "I don't know about that. I hadn't spoken to any police in a long time before today."

"I suspect the last one you spoke with was me." The lion drew back his hood a little, and Robert finally saw his thick, russet mane. "In fact, I'd bet a hundred bucks that I know one of the kits we're waiting on."

"I..." Robert blinked. "Oh. Damn. Yeah. I do recognize you." He laughed. "Now that's a coincidence and a half."

"What was his name again? Tai, wasn't it?"

Robert nodded. "Y-yeah..."

"Where's his mom? Why're you here for him again and not her?"

"Well..." Robert sighed. "She's... not available right now."

The powerful feline just shrugged. "Again, huh."

Robert closed his eyes. "It's not that. She's dead. Someone... someone shot her. Tai's an orphan now."

The lion stared at him. "Oh... shit. Oh my God, that poor kid."

"You have no idea." Robert turned, squinting up at the blinking beacon light atop the crane. "You really don't."

It was a miracle they could still walk, and Tai knew that. It seemed his legs took every opportunity to remind him how lucky he was that they deigned to cooperate.

Suddenly, they gave out, and he stumbled to his knees as his muscles surrendered briefly.

"Ah!" He closed his eyes tightly. "Come on, please..."

The kit looked up to see his friend continuing on almost equally unstable paws.

All he had to do was follow his older friend. That was all... they were almost home free.

With a groan, Tai placed a paw on a knee and hauled himself upright. It was much harder than he could ever remember it being.

He had to keep up.

All he had to do was keep up! He knew he could do it.

"We're almost there!" exclaimed Mike, pointing into the distance. "I can sort of see the crane!"

Tai nodded, pointlessly as Mike wasn't even watching him, as he stumbled forwards. They had made their way out of the maze of shipping containers, and now they were faced with an open, gravelly area. The wind lashed at them furiously out in the open, buffeting them, threatening to knock them down again and again.

"Come on!" Mike took his paw. He caught the smaller kit's eye, smiling slightly. It brought a momentary grin to Tai's own face; soaked through, Mike looked sort of funny.

As they walked on, the gigantic, looming crane came into view. The huge shape started to take form, and Tai realized it now towered many dozens of feet above his head. Looking almost straight up, he could make out the blinking red beacon more clearly. As they moved further inland, the fog was thinning too. Slightly. Beyond the crane, there were only a few more buildings - gray shapes that shimmered behind the veil of the fog. At least, Tai thought they were buildings.

They were almost there.

When they got even closer, Tai realized the indistinct shapes were buildings, but unfinished ones. Exposed girders and half-complete walls. One of the construction sites seemed to be right by the crane's base.

"I think we should head to the bottom of the crane," Mike said, leaning closer to Tai's ear. "Let's go through that building! We can hide easier in there."

"Okay."

Together, they staggered towards the entrance to the concrete structure, the gravel giving way to wet, yellow sand. At last, they passed through an entrance in the tall, unpainted wall, and found themselves on the firm, concrete foundations. But to Tai's dismay, there was no respite from the rain. There was no roof yet.

The kits looked around briefly, struggling to see something in the darkness. Thick metal beams stuck up from the ground, and large piles of concrete slabs and bricks, dotted the center of the foundation. The piles were massive; thousands of pounds of construction material, stacked well above the kits' heads. The wind howled as it weaved through them and around the thick concrete walls, but nonetheless they provided some shelter.

Mike hopped a few steps further into the building and squinted into the distance. "I can see the fence!" he said excitedly. "It's huge, like, I dunno, fifteen feet high. I think it's covered in razor-wire again. Probably electrified, I bet." There was a pause. "Hope we don't have to climb it."

Weary and sore all over, Tai leaned heavily on a metal beam, closing his eyes. He just wanted to sleep now. They had to be safe by now. Since the maze of containers, they had been completely untroubled by anyone. This construction site, so far from the waterfront, had to be safe. Maybe they could just...

"Tai!" hissed his friend, suddenly gripping his shoulder. "I just heard something!!"

Tai almost cried. "Wh-what?!"

"I d-dunno! Shh, we should hide!" Mike started to push him towards a pile of concrete, presumably to take cover behind it.

There was a scraping, a heavy boot on concrete, and the boys whirled around.

A dozen feet away, a figure had stepped out from behind one of the brick piles. In the darkness and thick fog, all they saw was the large, shadowy figure crouched. Pointing something at them. A gun.

Unable to help it, both kits screamed, stumbling backwards desperately.

The figure reacted, straightening up and raising his arms. Pointing the firearm upwards and away. "Shh!!" the figure hissed.

Before he could say much else, other figures slipped out from behind cover, and the kits screamed again. Mike's legs failed him and he collapsed to the concrete, while Tai turned and unthinkingly made a panicked run for the crane. Someone stepped out in front of him and easily scooped him off his paws.

"No!!" he screeched, trying to struggle. His assailant was powerful though, and easily held him aloft.

"Calm down!" the fur said urgently. He placed the kit down on his feet, but gripped his arm firmly. "We're the police! We're your friends!"

Tai stumbled and fell to his backside. But he stared at the shadowy figure who had stopped him, garbed in black- or was it dark blue?- entirely, holding a long gun of some kind. The fur's features were obscured by the darkness, and he could make out no further details.

Breathing heavily, Tai tried to stand and break free, but he was easily pulled back down to the ground. Once again, adrenaline flooded his body and his heart started to beat faster. How could he know these were police?! They had snuck up on them and surrounded them, and now they were grabbing at both he and Mike. Capturing them.

That wasn't what rescuers were supposed to do!

"No! Let go!" he wailed, weakly trying to push the adult's powerful paw off his forearm.

There was a scuffling noise behind him. Paws struggling and slipping on wet concrete. "Get away!!" he heard Mike scream.

The one holding Tai just cursed. "Shit, restrain them and let's just get out of here!" he ordered, firmly twisting Tai's arm behind him. "We don't have time for this. Sorry kid."

With a terrified wail, Tai found himself being pushed face down to the concrete, his arms pulled behind his backs. Not painfully, but certainly not gently. Something encircled his wrists and suddenly tightened, gripping his skinny wrists. He tried to jerk his arms away but his wrists wouldn't separate. He had been handcuffed. But it wasn't metal; at least it didn't feel like metal.

The adult forcefully pulled him upright. As he did, Tai caught a glance of Mike also being yanked off the ground. His wrists were also bound behind his back; some sort of yellow plastic ribbon...

"What are you doing?!" Mike sobbed as the armored grownup easily lifted him and slung his restrained form over a broad shoulder while another did the same with Tai. "Please stop!"

But not one of them listened, and they started to quickly bear the kits away.

Tai kicked and squirmed, still confused, panicking; but nothing he did fazed the one that effortlessly carried him. He started to cry.

At last, the officer holding him spoke, not pausing in his stride. "Calm down, kid," he hissed quietly. "It's just standard procedure. You're safe now - we just have to get moving. Calm down."

Tai surrendered, going limp in the adult's grasp. His energy was gone, and it was just pointless. He knew that. He was small, they were big, and he was handcuffed - or whatever. It was hopeless to keep struggling. His heart was beating so hard and so fast he thought it'd explode, and he was so scared, but... the fear was being eroded by the exhaustion.

However, as the coordinated gang of black and blue armored adults hurried along in the howling wind, Tai noticed something. They were being carried away from the docks. They left the construction site behind, passing a thick metal fence over a dozen feet tall. The boy twisted around, urgently scanning the surroundings through the obscuring rain. They weren't being carried back the way they came.

Maybe they really had been rescued? Maybe this was exactly what was supposed to happen after all!

The sudden burst of relief made him feel even fainter.

But Mike continued to cry and weakly struggle. Had he not noticed?!

Tai relaxed. He couldn't help his friend now. They'd be okay. They were really safe now.

Robert was still staring anxiously at the red beacon when his pointless reverie was interrupted by a garbled bark from the lion's radio.

He whirled around. "What was that?" he demanded of the officer.

But the lion just shot him a grin. "Jameson here, ten-four." He rounded his patrol car as the passenger side door opened. A leopard officer got out, hood down despite the pounding rain. "They're on their way! Told you, sir. I know some of the guys in SWAT. They know their stuff."

Blinking, Robert looked down the street. Squinting into the rain and gradually thinning fog, he saw the oddest sight he even remembered being glad to see. Four of the SWAT officers were awkwardly running down the street, off to the sidewalk. They were carrying two small forms slung over their shoulders and held tightly.

He had to resist the impulse to cry for joy. "Oh, bloody hell," he whispered to nobody in particular, his knees buckling. "Thank God."

Suddenly dizzy, Robert fell against the side of the ambulance as the paramedics quickly got out. The SWAT officers ran directly over to them, gently depositing the dazed kits on the ground right by the ambulance.

Robert moved immediately the moment their paws touched the ground. "Oh, my god!" he gasped, running to them. Unthinkingly, he dropped to his knees and pulled his son into a vice-like hug. "Oh, shit, Mike! You're okay!"

But Mike was crying, distressed. "Oh, shit!" he wailed, struggling in his own father's embrace. "Take it off! Please, take it off dad!!"

Alarmed, Robert leaned away. "What, what is it?!" he asked. It was only then he noticed Mike's wrists were tied behind his back with zip-cuffs.

"Please!!" Mike repeated desperately. "These are what he used!! Please!"

For a dumbfounded moment, Robert had no idea what his son was talking about. Then he clicked. "Oh, sweet Jesus!" he turned to Jameson, who hovered nearby. "You got a knife? Something to get these things off!"

The feline pulled out a small utility knife and handed it to Robert, who spun his son around and slashed the zip-cuffs off immediately - though a pair of broken handcuffs still encircled the kit's wrists. He reached out and pulled Tai to him, likewise slashing the plastic straps off. Before he could return the knife to the officer, Mike whirled around and latched onto him like a lamprey eel.

"It's okay," Robert said gently. "It's okay. They had to do that, Mike. I'm sorry, I should've warned them. Oh, I am so glad you're safe..."Adjusting his grip, Robert reached out and gently tugged Tai into the embrace as well. The exhausted eight-year-old clung to him immediately. "You too, Tai. You're both so amazing." Tears started to pool in his eyes, and the many armed police around them just faded into meaninglessness.

One of the uniformed paramedics, a middle-aged cougar, came over to them and stood quietly holding two thick blankets. Robert ignored him, firmly squeezing the two kits to him. They were all that mattered at the moment.

"We fucking did it," he muttered. "I don't believe it. I love you both so much. I'd've gone crazy if either of you... Oh, fuck!"

The cops clamored around them, speaking quietly into their garbling radios. But the three foxes didn't even care.

At long last, Robert managed to separate them. He smiled at their exhausted faces as they both wavered on their tired legs. "Okay, boys," he said, sniffing loudly. "Let's get you to the hospital. I think the police can take it from here, yeah?"

The paramedic quickly swaddled both kits in those thick fuzzy blankets, and directed them towards the ambulance. "Come on guys, just a quick check up here then we'll go downtown," he told them quietly.

They inspected Mike first, having him sit on the back of the open ambulance. The kit could barely keep his eyes open as his pulse was sought, and the medic quickly scanned his cuts and bruises.

Tai stood by Robert, watching Mike's inspection detachedly. He was so tired, he almost felt like he was already dreaming.

The rain started to die down at long last, and the wind started to calm. Dazedly, the kit looked upwards. The sky was choked with gray clouds still, but the wind blew them along, slowly but surely dispersing them. The storm was ending, for now, it seemed. He stumbled slightly, dizzied from looking directly upwards.

"Oops, you okay?" asked Robert, gently touching the boy's shoulder.

"Yeaaaah..." mumbled Tai. He met the adult's eyes and smiled. "Thank you..."

Something struck hard him in the back, and Tai stumbled forwards. It hurt, and left behind a cold stinging, almost like a snowball or a wet baseball had been pelted at him. His first instinct was to spin around, looking for whoever threw it. There was nobody there. He frowned. The sting suddenly intensified, and he touched a paw to his chest. "Ah!"

After a short moment, a bizarre tinny ringing started in his ears, and his exhausted legs buckled. Then gave out completely.

All of a sudden there was an outcry. Rather, he noticed it at last. There were voices crying out, and chaotic activity around him. Somebody caught him, but he felt himself still falling. Being laid out on the wet bitumen.

"Wh-what?" he asked softly, his voice sounding dulled and scarcely audible to even himself.

Robert's horrified face loomed into view, then others followed suit. Mike, a familiar faced lion, and the paramedic. The lion said something, but he couldn't make it out. It was so fuzzy, and the buzzing noise had... he blinked to clear his vision, struggling to listen harder.

"Don't move, okay!" he heard the lion say slowly. His voice was calm, but his eyes were strangely disturbed. "Don't move, Tai."

Tai struggled to raise his head. "Wh-what's wrong? What's going on?"

"No, don't move!" insisted the cougar.

"Uh? B-but... I-"

"Tai, listen! You've been shot!"

Robert staggered backwards.

What was right before his very eyes... could not be. He saw it, but it couldn't be real.

Thin, watery blood was already pooling on the bitumen beneath the tawny kit, who looked around, confused. Weakly struggling to move, even as the medics urgently told him to stay still. Some of the red liquid was being washed away, the running rainwater on the bitumen leading it to the drains beneath the sidewalk, but it continued to flow. More and more of it. Steadily, it even oozed from the boy's chest somewhere, turning the shirt he wore a dark, disturbing red.

He could hear his own son, crying louder than he'd ever heard him. But it sounded so distant. It couldn't be real either.

What monster would do this?

The SWAT officers spread out, seeking cover, as the paramedics selflessly flocked to attend the stricken child. One of them had to pull Mike away when he tried to cling to his smaller friend.

Suddenly, Robert was running. Sprinting straight towards the construction site the police had come from. An unholy determination seized him, and he withdrew his pistol, loading it without breaking stride.

It fell into place now. It made sense. It all made horrible sense.

He knew what had to be done, and he knew he had to be the one to do it. It couldn't be any other way.

"What the fuck is he doing?!" thundered Jameson, taking only a few steps after the fox, but quickly realizing the vulpine completely outpaced him. "Jesus!" He clawed at his radio. "All units, be advised, the civilian fox running to the construction site is friendly! Hold your fire!"

He whirled around, darting back to his patrol car. "What's that idiot doing?!"

The brown-furred boy looked around in horror and fear. The warm blanket he held about his shoulders slipped from his suddenly numb fingers and fell to the ground. "What...? What happened?! Wh-where's my dad going?!"

"I have no god-damn idea!" growled the lion, popping the trunk and pulling out a shotgun. "He's running straight at a fucking sniper! He's gonna get himself killed!"

In a startlingly composed voice, one of the SWAT officers took a hold of his shoulder-mounted radio and started speaking into it. "Command, this is Bravo-Four! Officers under fire at the hostage evacuation site. A shooter has us pinned down from the construction site, location uncertain." The collie swore suddenly. "Jesus, he's hit the fucking kid! Damn it; get the other one down or the fuck out of here!"

The radio garbled something, but it was ignored.

Jameson growled to himself and slipped into his patrol car, handing the twelve-gauge to his partner. He wrenched the key in the ignition and slammed his paw on the accelerator. The tires screeched abominably on the wet surface and the vehicle lurched forward until the lion spun the steering wheel. The car violently whipped around and Jameson applied the handbrake, repositioning his vehicle to offer some cover to the paramedics and the injured child.

Confused, Mike looked from the patrol car to the hastily shrinking figure of his father, then down at his wounded best friend. With a strangled cry, he tried once more to run to his friend's aid.

The cougar caught him and pushed him away. "No!!" he snapped. "Please, kid, stay away! Get behind something, get behind the car!"

"He's my best friend!" Mike sobbed, trying to push past the adult. "Please!"

"Don't do this, kid! If we have to restrain you, we will!"

Tai's eyes closed briefly, and his head rolled. "Mike, what's going on?" he asked weakly. Mike wailed in response, burying his head in his paws, his knees buckling. A powerful arm slipped around his stomach and he was easily lifted off the ground. Before he could kick at his assailant or complain, he was quickly spun around and hauled over behind the patrol car. Strong paws and arms covered him, gripping his shoulder and encircling his waist; pushing the exhausted kit down firmly to the harsh bitumen.

"Don't move!" the lion's voice was loud in his ear. "You have to stay here, Mike. Okay? That shooter could still be out there. Just stay down!"

Crying, Mike couldn't respond. He struggled just enough that he could see his friend and the uniformed adults kneeling by him.

Several feet away, the cougar paramedic swore, touching a firm paw to Tai's neck. "Shock. He's bleeding out, fast. Get the epinephrine. He needs a transfusion right now. Two-hundred-forty mills."

"Do you think we can get him downtown?" asked one of his colleagues, slipping a rolled up blanket under the kit's head.

"We do this here or he won't make it downtown."

Mike shut his eyes tight.

This couldn't be happening. Not now.

Not now...

Robert knew what he was doing was stupid. To say the very, very least. But it all clicked into place somehow. He had to do this, and do it now.

There were other targets there. All of them better choices. Himself. The SWAT officers. There was no reason whatsoever for anyone to shoot Tai. Except for one...

After firing at the child, he doubted the shooter would hold position. He'd flee, try to slink away. He had to know the police would have a marksman of their own covering the SWAT officers, who would take out an opposing sniper without hesitation, and the shooter wouldn't risk detection just for the chance to pop a second shot at Robert. No, the shooter was running.

But that just meant he was taking up position elsewhere...

The fox leapt into the construction site, rounding a pile of concrete slabs and continuing to sprint. Ignoring the twinge in his knee as it slowly started to become painful.

Even though it was across open space, he headed towards the nearest warehouse. Something told him who he was looking for hadn't stopped running yet.

There was an alley around the back of the warehouse, and he headed for it. But as he was about to head for it, that familiar feeling once again prickled the back of his neck. He dove past the alley, rolling awkwardly on the wet concrete and slamming into the brick wall. There was a snapping report, followed by a loud crack.

Robert pulled himself to a crouch, taking cover by the corner. Two bangs. Single shot. A high powered rifle, easily able to hit a small target from a few hundred meters, even in this weather.

But now what? The shooter would likely hold out in that little alley.

"Shit," Robert muttered to himself, standing up.

There was only the faintest of sounds to give him warning - the crunch of gravel and dirt under a paw. The shooter quickly stepped out from the alley, driving something at Robert's face. The fox ducked, and the whistling blade just missed his scalp. He tried to raise his paws to shoot, but the knife came slashing downwards this time. With a lick of agony, the blade bit into his forearm. His paw shuddered in spasm, and the firearm slipped from his grasp. It clattered to the wet gravel.

The shooter rushed him, pushing him into the wall and trying to bring the knife down on his collar. With his good paw, Robert narrowly managed to catch his opponent's wrist... His gaze flitted from the slowly descending knife-point to the crazed yellow eyes that glared at him with utter hatred.

"Rrrrghah!!" Darron howled madly, using his free paw to punch Robert square in the face.

His head slammed backwards into the bricks, causing his legs to give way. The knife point descended further, but as the teenaged wolf raised his free paw again, Robert grabbed the elbow of the arm holding the blade firmly, maintaining his grip higher up with his other, unwounded, paw.

Stepping out to the side and twisting the teenager's arm, Robert slammed him into the wall shoulder first, effectively exchanging places with him. He continued to twist the arm, pressing the maniacal wolf into the wall. Once again, despite the awkward angle Robert had him at, Darron threw a punch. The punch fell short, and Robert twisted the wolf's arm further, pulling it downwards forcefully.

Darron was thrown to the ground. But he kicked upwards as he fell, and his hard-pointed boot clipped Robert on the side of the neck.

The force of the kick knocked Robert senseless for a second. He released his grip and staggered to his knees.

The wolf lunged at him, attempting to stick the blade into his chest, and Robert narrowly managed to parry the strike. He clutched the teenager's wrist and barreled into his smaller frame, slamming him up against the wall again. Robert tried to hit his opponent's wrist off the sharp corner of the wall, but Darron's grip was strong. It took several attempts before Darron cried out, dropping the knife.

Robert quickly kicked it away. The knife skittered across the wet concrete until it disappeared under a dumpster up against the warehouse wall. In response, Darron immediately raised a swift knee, slamming it right into Robert's groin.

The fox cried in pain, doubling over. So Darron grabbed his head-fur and smashed a fist down onto the back of his skull.

Unable to pull free, Robert charged into the teenager's waist, driving him once again into the warehouse wall. Then he cinched his opponent's legs, ducking under his center of balance and lifting him off the ground.

"Put me down, fuckface!" Darron growled, slamming a forearm into Robert's back.

"Ngh! Gladly, asshole." Heedless, the fox hurled himself and his cargo at the dumpster's metal edge.

There was a massive bang as Darron's spine was rammed into the metal bin, and he stiffened. Robert stepped back, quickly slipping his arms onto either side of the wolf's surprisingly thick neck, securing a grip behind the head. Willing as much strength as he had into it, he pulled Darron's head downwards and thrust a knee upwards, using the full momentum and leverage of his body - just as he remembered being taught by a certain ferret so many years ago.

The impact was audible. Darron reeled backwards into the dumpster again, losing his footing.

Honestly, Robert thought he had won. The sheer power of that clinching knee had hurt his own leg. He was sure the teenager would go down from it, but Darron simply shook his head clear and leapt away from the dumpster, denying Robert the chance to corner him. It was incredible.

The teenager's yellow eyes started to refocus, and they narrowed now. Some of the blazing, mindless hatred ebbed away, and he brought his paws up, taking a more measured stance.

"Fuck," Robert growled. All he'd managed to do so far was make the kid take him seriously; meanwhile, his right arm was gashed wide open and he was losing blood quickly. If he'd been able to follow up the knee-strike rather than hesitating, he might've been able to end it.

Damn it.

Darron slipped forward, throwing a short jab. The fox avoided it clumsily, but Darron instantly followed it up with a cross which just missed his nose. Finally, his first paw swung around in a hook, and that connected with Robert's forehead. There was a clunk, and Robert staggered back.

He tried to throw his own, less-than-confident, punch, but Darron's movement was slick. His head bobbed slightly to the side, and his counter-punch smacked Robert right on the nose, bloodying it instantly.

Robert froze, unsure what to do. But he wasn't even allowed that momentary respite, and Darron stepped in again, throwing three fast, flowing punches that only barely missed - but this time following with a hard kick that slammed into Robert's upper thigh. "Agh!" the fox cried, a jolt of pain frazzling his entire leg and jarring his bad knee.

He couldn't fight the kid like this, he knew. It had been a decade since his hand-to-hand training, and he didn't even take it seriously back then. His opponent on the other paw seemed to know exactly what he was doing. More than that, he wasn't just some kid who'd taken a few boxing lessons. Darron knew how to truly fight. Unlike the encounter with Nate, Darron was not critically wounded. Robert could tell that closing with the wolf would be just as disastrous as staying at this range: the wolf kid seemed a dirty street fighter. If his speed in going for Robert's testicles hadn't already confirmed that...

So what were his options? He had to be smart about this. He was good at that, he liked to think.

But was he smart enough to defeat an enraged opponent half his age?

Darron punched at him again, another measured jab. Robert retreated into the alley, bringing his paws up into a fighting stance of his own. He was so out of practice, he didn't even have his paws up properly. Bloody hell.

Suddenly, Darron darted forwards, closing the distance. He threw a punch to Robert's gut with his lead paw, but he brought the strike upwards at an awkward angle. Surprised, Robert couldn't stop it, and the long uppercut slipped between his raised arms, clipping Robert on the chin. The wolf launched another flurry, this time one of the blows catching Robert square on the lower muzzle, and he reeled back. Darron threw another wild low-kick, sweeping the dazed fox's leg entirely.

Robert collapsed to the concrete with a cry. When his vision returned, it was to see Darron's fist come down onto his nose again.

"How do you like this, motherfucker?!" demanded Darron, pressing a knee into his opponent's chest and raising his fist once again.

Unable to see an alternative, Robert struck at the teenager's groin. Another awkward, upwards punch struck the wolf on the chin, and Robert rolled quickly out from under him, gasping and dizzy.

Things had gone slightly hazy, and an oppressive pressure seemed to be squeezing his head.

Frustrated and pained, Darron stood. He charged at the fox, drawing a fist back.

A last second instinct kicked in, and Robert moved forward, bent at the waist. Unthinkingly, he intercepted his opponent's charge, slamming into his hips and once again clinching his knees. He tackled the wolf to the ground, and he heard the dull thunk of the back of his head striking the gravel.

Stunned from the impact and caught completely off guard by Robert's surprisingly adroit takedown, Darron could only belatedly roll over onto his paws and knees. But Robert had stuck close to him, and immediately pounced, wrapping an arm around the teenager's neck and cinching his grip with his other. The fox squeezed with all his might, trying to choke the wolf unconscious...

Darron recognized the extreme danger, and he started threshing wildly. Robert held him fast, trying to control the wolf's posture and keeping his weight firmly pinning the kid down. It would only take a few seconds and he had the choke locked tight... but the young wolf suddenly clawed at the deep bloody cut on Robert's arm.

"Aaagh!" Robert howled. Almost instantly, his grip loosened and Darron slipped free frantically.

They both scrambled to their foot-paws again, eyeing one another warily.

The amber eyes were wide now. It brought an involuntary smirk to Robert's face. Darron had underestimated him. Though he had gotten away, the textbook 'rear-naked choke' was likely only a second from rendering him unconscious and the wolf knew it.

Robert tensed, as ready for anything as he could ever be.

Growling, Darron swiftly knelt to grab something down by his foot-paws. There was a harsh scraping sound, and then Darron straightened, holding aloft a stout, three foot long steel pole. Robert felt his heart freeze.

Darron gave him a smug, murderous grin before swinging the weapon at him. Robert leapt backwards out of the alley again.

The teenager swung it again, but once again Robert was just out of range.

The fox swore silently, afraid again. He was hurt and tired, while Darron nonetheless seemed still pretty fresh - seemingly spurred on by homicidal madness. Robert had no idea what to do against someone wielding an iron bar like that! He locked his eyes onto the deadly metal implement.

Suddenly, he remembered something. Yes, he did know what to do! He'd been shown before by one of the best teachers he'd ever had - it's no different from any other weapon, he'd been told a hundred times. But knowing vaguely what to do and doing it were not the same things. He struggled to remember the details...

Snarling, Darron raised the pole high and rushed forwards to bring it down upon the still retreating Robert.

But the fox changed directions, darting forwards instead. He raised his left paw, catching Darron's wrist just before it could swing the weapon downwards. Quickly, Robert stepped across and into the teenager's body, holding the wrist clutching the weapon up and to the side. He swung other paw upwards to the outside of Darron's in the process, tightly grabbing Robert's first arm's wrist - bending Darron's elbow sharply backwards between them. An intricate yet quickly completed knot of their forearms, wrists and elbows. A figure-four.

Robert spun around, pulling the complicated pretzel their arms had become in towards his own waist. There was a wet tearing sound, and Darron's feet left the floor. He was thrown to the ground, but Robert continued to control that ruined arm. After the wolf hit the ground with a heavy thud, Robert rolled him onto his front, slamming his knee down on his back.

Darron howled in agony - his shoulder joint was torn, but Robert continued to wrench it.

"Gotcha, you little bastard!" Robert panted, securing his grip.

Unsurprisingly, Darron's pained cries and gasps were tinged with fury. But Robert held him fast. The kid was defeated, and they both knew it.

"I want to talk to you. Darron."

The wolf's breathing stopped briefly. "Wha--?" he wheezed. "H-how the fuck do you know my name?"

"I know who you are." Robert tried to slow his own breathing, to no avail. "I know why you did what you did."

"Do you?!" Darron snarled. "What the fuck do you know about--"

"Eraline did not kill your mother."

Darron froze. "Wh-what the fuck are you talking about?"

"I've read the reports. I know what happened to you. To your mom." Robert lidded his eyes, trying to stop his gasping breaths from interrupting him. "Eraline... was trying to get you out of there, but your mom was caught, Darron. The asshole that bought you caught her, and threatened to kill you, maybe worse, if your mother didn't try to kill Eraline. The agent that was so close to cracking them wide open. Your mother was killed in self-defense, Darron. She either had to die to Eraline, or your 'owner' would do it. Or kill you."

"Bullshit..." Darron said. Suddenly he growled. "Bullshit!! You worthless spy asshole, why would you try to lie about this!? You fuckin' think I'll believe--AGH!!"

Robert had wrenched the teenager's shoulder. "Shut up, you self-important little shit!" he yelled at the wolf beneath his knee. "Why would I lie to you? The hell would I gain? You killed Eraline, and here I am trying to tell you the truth instead of being with the little boy you fucking shot!" Suddenly enraged, Robert pushed the wolf's skull into the concrete. "You killed his mother, my closest friend, and now you've probably killed her son too, and you think I'd dignify you by caring whether or not you believed me?! I don't need to lie to you, and I don't care if you believe me. Quite frankly, I'm trying to decide whether or not I should kill you. I sure as hell see no reason to let you walk away from this."

Amazingly, Darron fell silent.

"You're child-killing, kidnapping scum. You're no better than the filth your mother died trying to protect you from, died trying to bring them down; and what do you do? You join them?!"

"Stop."

"What?!"

"Stop!" Suddenly, Darron sniffed. There was a pause. "What did you do to me? Just then. What was that? Some CIA assassin shit?"

Robert sighed. "I'm no assassin. It's called 'ude garame' in Japanese. Arm-entanglement. Just a self-defense move. It's not CIA-anything."

The wolf fell silent. "Why...?" he whispered, his previously growl-like, macho voice suddenly quaking and weak. "Why are you telling me this? Why?!"

"Because I thought you had the right to know." Robert gasped, still out of breath. "Because I wanted to clear my friend's name. Because enough people have been hurt."

Darron tensed, but did nothing.

"This was all you. Wasn't it? You got Eraline killed. You kidnapped the boys, just so you could get some sort of twisted revenge. Some perverted justice. How did you find out where she was? Nate? Did you get him to kill her too? Did you get my son god-damn raped just so you could find out?"

"... No..." Darron whispered. "They... got the ferret to do that. I took the stuff he stole... looking for her. Was useless. But then she came back..."

"So then you got an innocent mother killed."

"She wasn't fucking innocent! She still--!"

"No, Darron! Jesus Christ, if anyone is to blame for what happened to your mom, it's the bastard who thinks he owns you, like cattle." Robert exhaled angrily out his bloodied nose. "You went to work for the one to blame, and you killed the one that risked her life to try and save you! Nice going, kid!"

Darron suddenly exploded, his young body surging with strength, somehow getting his knees under his body. Robert cursed, struggling to hold on with his tired arms, but Darron seemed to no longer care about the surely incredible pain in his shoulder. He dislodged Robert, shoving him away and scrambling backwards. He dove at something, agilely rolling to his feet.

The exhausted fox prepared to fight once again, but Darron simply pointed a pistol at him.

His own.

Robert froze.

But the teenager did nothing. His eyes watered and his expression was lost, despairing. Hesitant.

"So, is this it?" Robert murmured. "You're going to kill me too? Make my son an orphan too?"

Darron didn't move an inch, though his shoulders heaved with every ragged breath...

"He loves me. I know that. If I'm gone... I think you're one of the few furs alive who know what it'd do to him. You want to be responsible for that? Again? Or do you want to help make sure your mom didn't die in vain?" He paused, but there was no response. "What are you going to do?"

The wolf shook his head. Tightening his finger on the trigger. "Stop them," he muttered. "The ship."

"... I don't understand."

"The ship. Thirty on it already, more in some of the containers..." Darron swallowed.

By now, Robert's heart had forgotten to beat. "... What are you going to do, Darron?"

Darron glared at him, his amber eyes hardening. He moved at last...

Robert braced himself, squeezing his own eyes tight shut. He called the image of his son and wife to him. Imagined holding them both. Feeling their warmth. One last time, all together...

There was a sharp, ear-splitting pop, and Robert jumped.

He opened his eyes just in time to see Darron's limp form collapse to the ground.

"Oh..." Robert blinked. "... Bloody hell."

Mike knelt on the wet bitumen, huddled up against the dirty metal door of the patrol car. The rain still fell, a steady drizzle that fell on his exposed torso, but he didn't care.

He had no idea what he was watching. All he knew was his friend was lying scarcely ten feet away. The rivulets of water running down the street were still tinged pink with Tai's blood, but Tai himself was obscured from vision as the oddly uniformed paramedics crowded around him. They said things to one another, barking orders, doing... things, things that Mike didn't understand.

It was too much. It was too hard. He wanted to run to his stricken friend; he wanted to say something to him, just in case...

But they wouldn't let him. They'd pull him away. All he wanted was to be near his best friend - his father had just run off, he could be dying too. But he couldn't even be with his friend...

Some of the police taking cover around the car and the ambulance suddenly moved, bringing weaponry to bear on somewhere behind the car. Slowly, the barky-furred kit crawled forward, not really sure if he cared what it was the cops were suddenly aiming at, yet nonetheless he peered around the rumbling car's bumper.

He recognized the dark figure, limping towards them. It had both arms above its head, and though Mike was almost blinded by tears, he knew who it was. It had to be.

"Hold your fire!" the leonine office barked, advancing slightly on the injured fox approaching the ambulance. "The hell were you thinking?!"

Robert smiled weakly. "Got him," he said simply.

"You fucking idiot..."

Before the lion could continue, Mike jumped to his feet and charged right at his father. He wrapped his shaking arms around him... "Oh, dad!!" cried the kit, squeezing as hard as he could. He started crying again, but this time, Robert was there to hold him tight.

"It's okay, Mike," he said weakly.

"N-no it's not! Tai's hurt!" The kit's legs buckled again, and his father had to keep him upright.

The paramedics stood, and the cougar rushed over to the ambulance. Mike broke away from his dad's embrace, turning to watch with horrified eyes.

"Let's move! He's lost too much; we have to get him downtown! Before another god-damn shooter shows up!" The cougar's voice cracked. He sounded desperate as he pulled some sort of metal trolley from the ambulance's rear door. "Fuck this, I'm not having the first one I lose be a little kid!"

Mike stepped towards them, but Robert caught his wrist.

"Where are they taking him?!" the boy demanded.

"Hospital, Mike," Robert said softly. "Where we'll have to go too."

"H-hospital?" Mike froze. "No. No! I want to go with him!" He tried to run to the ambulance, but Robert pulled him back. "Dad! Let go! Please!!"

The kit turned, begging his father to release him with reddened, imploring eyes.

"I can't, Mike..."

"No! I want to go with him, please! Let me go!" Setting his feet, Mike pulled as hard as he could, to try to break his father's steely grasp. "Pleeeeaase!! I won't get in the way! Let go! I wanna be with him!! Dad, no don't do thiiiis!!" His voice rose to a scream, but his father held on. After a few moments of struggling, Mike's knees gave out and the shirtless, wet, trembling kit collapsed to the ground. "Don't do this... dad... I h-have to say goodbye. I have to say it... I have to say it! Not like mom. Please..."

Robert closed his eyes. Mike's plea easily cut into him deeper than the knife that had gashed open his arm. But he couldn't... even if the paramedics would allow it, Robert knew his son wouldn't be able to control himself. He shook his head slowly.

"I'm sorry, Mike..."

With a broken-hearted wail, Mike curled up on the ground, covering his face with his free arm. Robert knelt beside him. He tried to brush the kit's head-fur, but Mike pushed his paw away violently.

The ambulance's rear door was slammed shut, and within moments the vehicle, and its shrieking siren, started off down the street.

"Mike, listen..." Robert reached out with his other paw again, but Mike batted it away.

"Go away!!" the kit screamed before instantly returning to his wracking sobs. "I-I hate you..."

Robert waited a few moments, as Mike's crying ebbed away, his exhaustion wearing him out. "No you don't," the grownup said softly. "I'm so sorry Mike. You know I have to."

The kit didn't move.

"He's your best friend, isn't he?" Robert sat heavily on the wet bitumen. His arm still bled profusely, and by now he was feeling faint. "...More than that? Right?"

Mike tensed. At last he moved his arm away from his face, and he stared at his father, his expression somewhere between stunned and scared. "I-I..."

"It doesn't matter, Mike. It really, really doesn't matter."

The barky-furred kit sobbed quietly. "W-will he be alright?" he managed to whisper.

"I don't know, Mike." Robert swiped at his bloodied nose with a wrist. "I can't tell..."

He turned and watched the ambulance speed around a corner wildly, disappearing behind a dirty, wet building. Robert looked up, towards the blackened clouds that smothered the sky.

"You never can..."

...............

It was a warm night. Clear skies with the faintest hint of a breeze. A rarity of late, with winter just thinking about moving on and letting the hotter, drier months have their turn at last. The sun was only just beginning to set this evening, and the sky was almost crimson.

Though he'd rarely had the opportunity to visit this garden, he'd always loved it. Tom and Eraline kept things quite neat, and upstate New York was a beautiful place to begin with. It was quite a drive from Manhattan, not that he minded making it.

Pushing open the security door, he ambled outside, holding a beer loosely in his paw. Smiling slightly, the fox approached his friend, who stood by the poolside, gently pushing a stroller back and forth with his free paw, the other occupied by his own beer.

"You're missing your own party," Robert chortled, sidling up to the pensive father. "Are you feeling okay?"

Thomas gave a quiet snort, raising the bottle of liquor to his muzzle. "Just a little thoughtful."

"What's on your mind?"

Brushing aside his wealth of strangely colored head-fur, Tom smiled down at his son. "Well, the same as always."

Robert bent over and peeked into the stroller. It was impossible for him to keep the smile on his face from blossoming into a massive grin - he was a father himself, after all. Little Tai was asleep, his tiny chest rising and falling rhythmically. His paws loosely holding his small blanket closed. "It's hard to get them off your mind, isn't it?" he murmured wryly. "He's got a lot more fur now. It's not just the eyes; he's got your fuzz too."

"Yeah, should make him popular with the ladies." Tom chuckled. "I still can't believe it. I'm the luckiest guy alive. I have a dream job, a lot of cash, a wonderful wife and now a son." He paused. "Damn, three years ago, I thought I'd never amount to anything more than a star on a wall down south."

"Nobody is ever just a wall ornament."

"Thanks, Rob. It's all thanks to you, man."

The pair of them sighed and looked up at the bleeding sky, streaked with wispy clouds. Simultaneously, they raised their beers again.

Thomas shook his head, his expression sad. "I wish I didn't have to leave this place. New York has been good to me. Not that a country boy like me could've ever thought it."

Robert peered at the sleeping infant. "Well... Tom, do you ever think about what your job could do? To them?"

As vague as it was, it needed no explanation. "Hell, sure I do."

"Moving across the nation at the whim of some pencil pushing stat-muncher like me? The danger?"

"Yeah." Thomas nodded slowly. "What it would be like if they came home from school, ten years from now - and there was no one there for them. I've thought all about it. I'm terrified, Rob, but what can I do? What happens if, instead of me, it's Tai?"

There was a long pause, before Robert shifted on his paws. "Look, Tom. You shouldn't be doing this. I know I don't have the details, but this isn't right - on our own soil, so far as I can tell, and now that you have a child? You should drop this. Tell the suits to get someone without so much to lose."

"No. I can't." The blonde fox shook his head firmly. "It's because I've got so much to lose that I need to do this."

"Can you explain?"

"Not really. Just trust me. You're a father too, been one for longer than me - you'd understand if you knew. I'm not leaving my son to live in a world with... so much wrong, so much evil, especially like this, and being someone that could've done something to help - but sat on my ass instead."

"I suppose it's like being a soldier - complete with the messiah complex." Robert gave a teasing laugh, but then sighed. "I'm going to miss you, you know. Haley and I aren't happy about this at all."

"I know man, sorry."

"Tell me one thing if nothing else, please. Are you coming back from this, Tom?"

Swigging from his beer, Thomas gently pushed the stroller forwards, then slowly rumbled it back. Tai gave a quiet squeak in his sleep. "I'm not sure," Tom admitted. "But then again, how can you tell?"

"... You never can."

"Exactly." There was a short laugh. "But I don't care. When I finally do piss off, I'll know I've left behind a boy that I'm proud of. There's not much I've done right in my life, but being a dad is something I'm gonna ace first time."

Robert smiled. "Unlike your English. It's 'of whom I'm proud.'"

"Yeah, that, Captain Cambridge."

They both snickered quietly.

"I mean..." Thomas murmured, draining his beer. "It can happen at any time, like I said. It does nobody any good to worry about it."

"Yeah. That's true, I suppose. Within reason."

"So it doesn't matter, really. What matters is what we left behind." There was a pause. "I don't mean achievements. Or money. Or empires, or getting your name in a fuckin' history book. It'll all be forgotten eventually. I mean... the hearts we touched. Every little bit of advice, of happiness, we leave behind. Just making the world better in whatever way we can. Changing real lives. It's the little things. We don't have to change the world."

Robert nodded. "Definitely. You know, you're surprisingly eloquent tonight. Is it the booze?"

"Yeah."

"Like I said, no life is just a star on a wall. Nobody is just a passage in a history book, and nobody is just a statistic. That star means something to someone."

Kneeling, Thomas gently laid a paw on his tiny son's head. "Well, he's my star. Not on the wall, but up in the sky. There's a billion, billion of them, all shining bright, but it's this one I'm risking it all for." He sniffed. "I dunno how I got to thinking about this. It's just... this little guy comes along and blows everything I thought I understood out of the water. This is a life, Rob, this is a living thing. It doesn't matter how young or old you are, if you're rich, poor, in this country or another. What matters is what we leave behind, and already, Tai has made at least two lives on this planet so much happier. He's the brightest star in my sky. When I go, I'll know I lit up a few skies, and I know Tai, and little Mikey, will light up their fair share too."

Robert wiped an eye. "Shit, Tom."

"What's that?"

"You know they already have. They already have."

What was happening? It was impossible to understand... it was chaos. Was he too late already?

Pressed against the thick, glass screen, his rapid breathing fogging it into opaqueness, Mike tried to make sense of the chaotic scene beyond.

It was surreal. The nearly-nude form of his best friend lay upon an operating table, the lush fur Mike knew to be velvety soft and warm had been stained such a dark red it was almost brown.

A dozen furs, dressed in a strange shade of bluish-green and clad in gloves and masks, swarmed about the motionless fox child. Chest still and eyes closed, Mike couldn't tell if he was even still alive.

Little could be heard through the dense shield. The observation room was quiet, even though, just beyond it, Mike could clearly see the activity. They had cut away Tai's sodden clothing, revealing the blood and filth drenched fur beneath, and within minutes they were penetrating the tiny kit's body with steel implements. Metal objects piercing so close to his heart. His lungs.

Mike whimpered, involuntarily clawing at the impenetrable, though frustratingly transparent, barrier. His father had delayed them, perhaps on purpose, yet when Mike got here they barely seemed to be getting started on trying to save Tai's life.

"C'mon, c'mon!" the kit whined, swiping away the tears standing in his eyes before replacing his paw on the glass. Instinctively, he pushed at it; some irrational part of him hoping the dense safety screen would break and let him in.

Suddenly, he heard a distant voice, muffled by the thick wooden door. From back down the corridor where he had come from. "He must be in the observation room!" it called. "This way!"

The brown-furred boy whirled around, scanning the room. In less than a second he dove at one of the heavy chairs in the corner, sitting next to a table. Kicking the low table out of the way, he strained his tired muscles to drag the chair over to the door. With its metal legs and cushioned backrest, it was surprising hard to move. Nonetheless, he scraped it along the linoleum and rammed it hard up against the only entrance.

Not a second too soon, as the handle was suddenly turned downwards, only to find its way blocked by the heavy chair. Panting, Mike ran over to the table and started to drag it too, setting the oaken furniture against the chair. "Stay away!" he cried, using his shod paws to kick his makeshift barrier more firmly into place, ignoring the gruesome pain in his thigh - his whole body was nearly numb by now. The pain that would've normally sent him sprawling in tears was simply drowned and lost.

"What's his name?!" demanded the voice, now hushed. "Mike! Mike, listen to me kid! You've got to come out of there!"

"No, I don't!" Mike retorted. His entire body was trembling violently, much as it had when he was stuck in the freezing rain. Still without a shirt and having dropped his blanket to the ground, even the merely cool air of the room felt like he had been submerged in icy water. "Just go away!"

He tingled all over, and his heart thumped erratically in his ears.

"Mike, listen to me!" the voice pleaded as the handle was wrenched again. Mike staggered back to the observation window, his wounded leg refusing to bend. "Kid! Ah, shit! Mike! I'm the medic who took a look at you in the ambulance. Listen to me: you need to let a doctor look at you right now, okay?"

Mike ignored him, scarcely even heard him.

"Dammit! Please, get him out of there, man."

The next voice to speak was familiar. "Mike?" it asked. "Can you hear me? It's your dad."

But all Mike seemed to be able to register was the crimson of the blood. It streaked all over his best friend's body, the surgeons' clothes... everything else seemed blurry, but he could see the blood so very well.

"Mike, you're also suffering from shock and hypothermia. Remember what those are?" There was a pause. Mike heard, but did not care. "Mike, you're in danger of passing out. At least unblock the door! I won't take you away."

"Yes you will..." Mike mumbled quietly, once more pressing his face to the glass.

Robert's voice came clearer now, as if pressed up against the door itself. "Mike, I'm sorry. Please let me in. Don't do this; the orderlies will have to force their way in if you don't let me in."

The kit blinked, his vision blurring. Hungry, tired, frozen, scared and wounded, he was only awake now for one reason.

More voices tried to convince him to let them in. Let them in to take him away from the only thing he cared about right now. When he didn't respond, the voices got more frantic, and they started to shove on the door. With the chair's tall back blocking the handle, held in place by a table heavier than Mike was, they had little luck.

A hot flush started to burn its way through Mike's clammy body, but he ignored it too.

The surgeons suddenly looked over at a monitor, and even through the glass the high pitched whine could be heard. Mike's stomach tensed and he felt his heart stop dead - he knew what the sound meant.

"No..." he whispered. "No! It can't..."

Flocked around the dying fox boy, the surgeons burst into a flurry of activity, bringing over another trolley.

Mike burst into tears, punching weakly at the glass. He started to sob, pleading for what he knew was happening to stop, but even he knew his words were just incomprehensible mumblings now.

At last, there was a bang as someone shoved the door hard enough to dislodge both the chair and table. The scraping sound was painful as they continued to drive forwards, opening the door despite the weight behind it.

But Mike didn't hear them, not over the incessant high-pitched whine. "No! Wake up!" He stumbled away from the wide window. "Tai, don't go..."

There was someone behind him, but he didn't care.

"Mike!"

"No... no... don't." Mike swayed dangerously. His vision darkened as though he'd plunged face-first into a sea of tar, and all he could hear was that terrible whine...

Robert cursed shrilly and dropped to his knees, barely managing to catch the kit as he limply toppled backwards. "Mike!" he gasped, cradling the freezing body. "Oh, shit!"

The cougar medic darted to his side. "It's okay!" he assured the distraught father. "It's probably just exhaustion. I knew this'd happen. Though we need to get him to emergency, now."

"Is he going to be okay?" Robert supported the boy's head instinctively. "He's never fainted before!"

"Sir, I can think of twenty reasons why he was going to tonight. Want me to carry him? I know where to go."

Robert opened his muzzle to respond, to declare that he would carry his son... when he heard it at last. "Y-you take him. I'll follow in a bit..." He let the cougar take Mike's limp form out of the room, then he stood and staggered to the observation window himself.

The muted whining continued, and Robert found himself right up against the glass. "No, Tai... come on..." he whispered.

The doctor in the next room fired the defibrillators, and for a few moments, the whining ceased, reverting to its slow beeping. Robert swallowed painfully.

Yet the beeping suddenly became erratic, for just the briefest second, before once again settling into that dreadful keening noise.

Something deep within Robert exploded, flaring up like an enraged wildfire. He smashed a fist into the glass...

"No! Tai, come on!! TAAAIIII!!"

Six weeks later...

The picture before him had long grown meaningless, as the indistinct, but so deeply cherished memories clouded his vision.

All sense of time had gone too, so Mike had no idea how long he'd been staring blankly at the picture of his mother in the living room, in pajamas still. It had to have been over an hour though, because a voice from the kitchen startled him.

"Mike?" his father called gently.

"Hm?" the kit responded.

A paw was suddenly on his shoulder, and Mike jumped.

Somber faced, Robert sat beside his maudlin son, slipping an arm around him. Instantly, Mike shifted closer to the grownup's side.

"We've got to go soon," he said quietly. "Are you ready?"

Hazel eyes still haunted, Mike gave a small nod.

"Don't be sad, Mike. Today's a good day."

"I know." Mike sighed and leaned into his father. "But I can't help it."

Smiling, Robert gave the boy a quick squeeze. "Don't get comfy, kiddo. We're going in ten minutes."

A pair of brown-furred ears perked up. "What?" Mike groaned. "I need to get changed and everything!"

"Exactly. Unless you don't want to--"

Mike quickly extricated himself and leapt to his paws. "Just give me a minute!"

Laughing and crossing his legs, Robert cast a fond look at the kit as he darted into his room. "Don't forget your jacket, it's snowing! Ha-ha!"

When at last the jacket-clad foxes stepped out onto the white street and made their way to their car, Mike seemed slightly more vivacious. Robert was quite used to the almost ritualistic depression his son exhibited on this day - it was the date of Haley's death. When Mike lost his mother; and Robert lost his beloved partner.

However, perhaps that significance would be diminished after today. Time couldn't heal all wounds by itself, after all.

"Did you bring gloves?" Robert asked, unlocking the car as they approached with his keychain remote.

"No," responded Mike, jumping over to the passenger side door and tugging it open. "I'll be okay, we're gonna be inside most of the time."

Robert rolled his eyes.

"Hey!" the kit complained. "Don't do that, you!"

They both laughed and got into the silver sedan together.

As they were reversing, Mike frowned slightly. "Should we stop and pick up a burger or something?"

"Wasn't breakfast enough for you?"

"Not for us."

Robert chortled. "Oh, I see. We can't, Mike, they won't let us."

"What?! Why not?" Mike gestured his incredulity. "After all that, he finally wakes up after surgery, and he's stuck with hospital food?!"

"No, no, no, Mike, he's not even getting hospital food. He can't eat proper food for another week, actually." Robert shrugged. "He's going to be even more of a twig when he gets out than he was before."

"... Geez. He'll be transparent."

"Don't worry; we'll do something about it."

"Why can't he eat?" Mike asked curiously, undoing his jacket's front.

Robert shrugged again. "Probably because if he eats anything after the surgery, he'll puke it right back up." He looked over at the kit. "Remember when you caught that stomach virus and you could barely even keep water down?"

"Oh, yeah. Then." Mike shuddered. "I hope he doesn't feel as bad as I did then. That was crap."

"At least you never had to clean up after it."

Early as it was, it was just past the early morning commuter rush, so the drive to the hospital was no major drama. Luckily, it wasn't the same hospital as the one where Tai had witnessed his mother passing away; however this one was further away. Nearer the docks.

When Robert finally found a place to stop in the busy parking lot and they walked together to the entrance of the massive concrete building, the grownup noticed his son seemed a little anxious. Suddenly reticent.

"What's wrong, Mike?" he asked as they paused for the automatic sliding sensor door to move out of their way.

Mike shook his head. "Don't like hospitals." The kit looked around at the reception area, where several dozen furs sat and stood with unhappy faces, likely awaiting appointment.

"This is a good enough hospital." Robert said. "Took good care of you both, and my arm. I'm especially grateful for that last one."

Much as with his son's gash on his thigh, Robert's injury required stitches, and not a small amount of them. The wound on his son's leg was ghastly; a four inch slash caused by the vicious razor-wire the docks used on their interior fencing - but even more impressive than the injury was the collection of smaller injuries both boys had endured. Yet more astounding, they had endured them well.

It almost made Robert explode with pride. Battered, cut and chilled almost to death, they'd outwitted and escaped from criminals who made their living kidnapping for profit. Better still, the criminals had at long last suffered a serious blow, because a ten and an eight-year-old had escaped their experienced clutches. From their account, corroborated by what the police had found on the scene, together they had actually taken out the sadistic rapist that almost did manage to catch them, despite being a fraction of the brute's size. Robert had wanted to raise his son to be self-reliant and mature, but this went beyond anything he'd have expected of himself - and despite it all, Tai was at almost exactly the same level. If what didn't kill you made you stronger, Tai could be the strongest boy in the world.

They approached the wooden reception desk, behind which a bored cercal nurse yawned and stirred her cup of soup listlessly.

"Can I help you?" she asked dully as the tall fox came up to the desk. She flashed a tired smile.

Robert returned it, though his was a little more enthusiastic. "Good morning. We're here to visit a patient."

The cercal nodded. "The little gunshot victim," she said, a little undiplomatically Robert felt. The nurse had likely been up all night. "I remember you guys. He'll be very glad to see you; he's out of ICU and he's in observation. His surgery went well."

"Is he awake?" Mike piped, standing on his tip-toes to get a look at the nurse, his face very serious. "Is he okay?"

"Right now, probably not. He's hasn't been doing 'awake' much lately." The nurse stood, not forgetting her soup. "Sign on in and I'll get someone to take you to observation. In fact, Doctor Weissman wants to speak to you personally. Excuse me a moment."

The two foxes leaned on the counter. "Are you looking forwards to seeing him again?" enquired Robert, deciding on some idly chatter just to pass the time.

Mike nodded. "Of course. Duh."

"I know, stupid question. Y'know, his birthday is only a month away."

"What, really?"

"Yep. We're gonna have to get together and think what to do for it - he's due for one hell of a party, I think. Have you got any particular places in mind for one?"

Mike grinned broadly. "I got a few places in mind."

When Robert was about to respond, he spotted two furs wearing distinctive uniforms. Surprisingly, he recognized them. "Huh," he grunted, waving at them. "I swear these guys are following us around."

Mike twisted to see to whom he was referring, and blinked in surprise when he saw the police officers. "What are they doing here?!"

"No idea."

The two felines, the broad-shouldered lion and the leopard, wandered over with warm grins on their muzzles.

"Another coincidence?" The lion laughed. "How's it going?"

Robert grinned back. "Pretty well, actually. We're here to visit the little guy, of course."

"We thought about it, but didn't want to wake him or anything," Richards admitted. "We did get a nurse to sneak a card or two in for him to see when he gets up."

All of a sudden, Mike's ears flattened. "Y-you're here to visit other cops?" he exclaimed. "Did they get hurt trying to...? Did anyone die?"

Jameson laughed again. "Don't worry about it, kiddo. One of the bad-guys drove a truck at his team in the firefight, and he shoved someone out of the way; got his own leg broken though. We were just bringing him lunch."

"Very few police or Coast Guard casualties, no deaths." The leopard nonchalantly scratched his nose. "Can't say the same for the perps, though."

Cringing, Jameson shot his partner a warning glance. However, Mike picked it up easily. "No, go on!" he insisted. "I wanna know what happened. Please."

"Go on, guys, he'll complain all day if you don't." Robert sighed. "I want to know as well. I hardly think anything you can tell him is going to upset him."

Making his dense mane dance with a shrug, the lion addressed the young bark-furred boy directly. "Well, after they got you all out of there, the SWAT team..." Jameson paused. "You know the collie? Lieutenant Edwards; not Sergeant Mendez."

Vaguely, Mike remembered the cop who had bound and carried Tai. He nodded.

"Well, after you guys were clear, he was on the radio suggesting they should let his team go back into the docks."

Richards snorted. "The term 'suggested' being used loosely, mind."

"Definitely. Well, he didn't seem too enthusiastic about the op at first, but he's a dad too. Moment he saw young Tai get shot, I'm pretty sure he was seeing red. When he got up there, and the Coast Guard moved in on one side, he took his team and stormed a warehouse."

"Did he kill them?" Mike asked fiercely. "For some reason, I really hope he did."

"Not if he didn't have to; but they got one chance. He disobeyed command and went to back-up another team; his guys were behind him all the way - nobody seemed to care. Wasn't much Mendez could do anyway; Edwards outranked him." Jameson shook his head incredulously. "Everybody suddenly got all whipped up. I've never seen anything like it. The punk who shot Tai only succeeded in pissing off SWAT and nearly every cop in the city. Forty-three arrests in total, about twenty of them were because Edwards got in the mood to punch things."

The leopard leaned on the counter too. "Most of them had the sense to give up when the Coast Guard boxed them in - great idea to involve those guys, I gotta say. They have some serious firepower, don't they? They even brought up some sort of warship - I didn't even know they had stuff like that. The ones who didn't have that sense I mentioned mostly got shot."

"Oh, I feel sorry for them." Mike grinned.

Robert had an idea. "Before I forget," he said, "it's Tai's birthday soon."

Jameson smiled. "I know a dozen cops at least that'd love to drop by. Both of those little guys are heroes to the department now."

"Dad!" objected Mike. "What're you doing? He's shy as heck and you're inviting a SWAT team to his party?!"

"I'm sure it'll be okay. He's always been ignored; I think it's time he got a proper party."

The lion handed over a small cardboard slip. "My fiancée's business card. If you do want us to put in an appearance, you can reach me through that. I'm sure we'll work out something."

"Gladly."

"We're back on duty in half-an-hour, and we haven't finished our own lunches yet." Richards adjusted his belt. "Have a good morning, guys."

With that, the two officers strode quickly out of the hospital. Mike watched them thoughtfully - though he still found police to be a bit of a pain in the tail, he had to admit those two were pretty cool. It was nice not being talked down to by an authoritarian jerk in a uniform.

"So what's it like?" Robert suddenly asked his son. "Being a hero and all."

Immediately, Mike flushed and gave an embarrassed giggle. "What? I'm not a hero! Are you nuts?"

"Sure you are. You're my hero - so is Tai; and you inspired an entire police department into a crazed arresting frenzy. I've already mentioned how proud I am of you both for how you handled yourselves, right?"

Mike actually squirmed. "Daaaad!" he complained quietly, smiling broadly. "C'mon."

"Just telling the truth. It wouldn't be good if you forgot it, now, would it?"

When the nurse returned, the good doctor was with her, chatting animatedly. He was a dingo, and his accent was appropriately, and thickly, Australian. A pair of trendy wire-frame glasses sat on the bridge of his snout, and he smiled with genuine gladness when he spotted the foxes.

"Ahh, hello there!" he said, extended a paw. To his credit, he didn't neglect to shake Mike's paw either. "Expected you guys today. How're things?"

Robert found himself grinning. "Fantastic, all things considered. Have a busy night?"

Dr. Weissman laughed, thumbing in the direction of the hospital's ICU. "Oh, it always is, mate. Let's go see our little battler. Ever since he's been able to talk he's been asking us all when you were visiting."

Mike nodded emphatically. "Sounds good to me!"

The dingo smiled down at the ten-year-old. "He's especially been asking about you. Just one thing though: don't work him up. He's still feeling a bit delicate and needs plenty of rest."

The kit gave another nod, this one curt. "No problem."

As they took the elevator up to observation, Robert found himself asking the obvious question. "So how did the procedure go?" he enquired curiously.

However, the doctor just chuckled. "Ah, it went fine. I'll fill you all in on the details when we get up there - got several x-rays and a few details you might not want anyone to hear, if you get my drift."

Robert did. "Don't worry about that, doctor. I keep no secrets from my kids."

"I got that feeling. No worries then. I'll fill you all in."

On the third floor, they traversed several corridors before the doctor indicated a heavy wooden door, with an inset window closed over on the inside by thin wooden slats. "Here we go," announced the doctor. "You can go in first if you like."

It took Mike some time to realize the grownup meant him. "Oh..."

Shakily, he reached out and took the simple brassy handle. When he turned the knob and slowly pushed the door inwards, the sight that greeted him stilled his breathing and almost brought tears to his eyes.

It was a cozy, warm room. Almost like a small bedroom. The floor was linoleum, but the walls were wallpapered with images of teddy bears and jet planes. Several cabinets, as well as a bank of instruments and machines, bracketed the white-linen covered bed, which was made of a heavy, darkened wood. Upon the cabinets sat several 'Get Well' cards. Even at a distance, Mike could see one of them was set open on the cabinet, signed "The New York P.D." The others were sent from Mike's friends who had met the sweet-natured Tai, but there were certainly more than Mike expected.

At last his eyes settled on the nigh motionless fox-boy in the warm bed. Beneath the tightly tucked linen, the somnolent kit was fast asleep, his little chest rising and falling almost imperceptibly, and his long head-fur framing his peaceful features. His arms were above the sheets, and a strange clip had attached a cable to his left index finger, while his muzzle lay slightly ajar.

Mike swallowed a sudden lump that had appeared in his throat, and he slowly crept towards the reposeful kit. Unbeknownst to him, the two adults followed behind him, their silence almost reverent.

Instinctively, the brown-furred kit reached out and laid a paw on the bed, scarcely half-an-inch from touching the sleeping child. "C-can I wake him up?" Mike asked, struggling to keep his voice steady.

"Yeah, go ahead," murmured Dr. Weissman.

Though Mike went ahead and leaned closer to Tai's face, he suddenly realized he had no idea what to do. His brain just drew a blank. He thought about it for a second, before a silly idea came to him.

With a chuckle, he crept even closer to the younger kit's little ears. "Mooooo!" he tried, unleashing his best cow-impression.

Tai's eyes fluttered several times. "Un... unh?" he groaned, before finally cracking his eyes open properly. "Huh?"

"Wake up, sleepy!" Mike chided. "It's nine-thirty! You're gonna miss half the day!"

For a second, Tai stared at him blankly. Then his leafy eyes widened fully. "Mike?!"

"Who were you expecting? A cow?" Mike grinned, blinking his wet eyes. "Miss me?"

"Uh-huh." Tai smiled weakly. "I missed you."

"Hey, what about me?" Robert stepped a little closer. "Morning, Tai."

Tai's nodded. "Good morning..."

"How are you feeling?"

Tai blinked, seemingly having trouble focusing. "Okay, I guess. Feel really weird though - heavy, and I can't wake up easily."

Dr. Weissman chuckled. "Sorry about that, little mate. It's the drugs. It won't be for much longer, I promise."

Robert turned to the doctor. "If you don't mind my uneducated self asking, what have you got him on?

"A bit of a mix. It's an orally administered cocktail to help with acidity and aid the healing of the abdominal tissues." The dingo's face became apologetic. "It's also required to help with the pain. We want to mask it as much as possible. I switched him to the oral medication so we wouldn't need to keep him on IV, or keep using syringes. Unfortunately, it's also a sedative."

"Alright."

"It won't be necessary for long," Dr. Weissman assured them all. "The procedure will repair most if not all of the nerve damage, but in the meantime we want him to rest as much as possible and avoid acidity spikes in his tummy."

"That makes sense." Robert shot the kit a grin. "Aren't you a lucky fox? Did you know that, Tai?"

The tawny kit looked up at him in bemusement. "Know what?"

"You're one of the first to trial that new surgical procedure Dr. Weissman developed." Robert chortled. "You'll be good as new soon, hopefully."

Tai smiled. That was good.

"One thing, guys." The doctor looked at his watch. "Tai's due for another in about half an hour. They're every eight hours."

Tai made a face. "Do I have to?" he asked, his voice a little stronger now. "They're horrible."

"I know. But that hole in your chest still hurts like heck, Tai; the only reason you don't feel it is those horrible drinks."

Mike's expression turned curious. "Drinks? What are they like?"

The dingo shrugged. "It's a bit like drinking two or three entire bottles of night-time pain medicine, if you've ever had any of that. Only nowhere near as tasty - oh, of course, not literally." He smiled reassuringly at the grownup fox.

Regardless, the brown-furred kit winced. Then he shot Tai a look. "Oh, hey, can you show us the hole?" he suddenly asked. "The bullet-hole?"

Tai giggled. "There isn't a hole anymore!"

"Well, let's see what is there!" Mike shuffled eagerly. "The scar!"

Still giggling, Tai shifted slightly, taking a hold of the sheets, but then he paused and his expression became dreadfully embarrassed. "Oh, I can't."

"Why not?"

"I-I'm, um, wearing one of those dresses. Um, hospital dresses." Tai averted his gazes shyly. "They took all my other clothes off, so I'm naked under it. I'd have to lift it up to show you."

Mike snorted. "So what? Ow!"

Robert had lightly flicked his son's ear. "Don't be daft, Mike!" He shook his head and laughed. "Perv."

"I just wanna see what a bullet-hole looks like!" insisted Mike, briefly rubbing his ear.

"There'll be bandages covering it anyway." Robert tousled the kit's head-fur. "It's called a 'gown' by the way, Tai."

Mike sighed. "Darn."

Looking over a few charts and papers in a small manila folder he picked up at the base of the bed, Dr. Weissman shook his head. "Aw, trust me kids, you don't want to see any bullet wounds up close."

"Indeed," agreed Robert. "I know a few gunshot victims, and there's nothing cool about it. Tai, you were very lucky. We almost lost you."

"Not just that," the dingo added. "Judging from the wound and the account I got from you guys, the shooter was some distance away, which makes accuracy a bit of a crapshoot - if you'll forgive the pun." Mike tittered at it. "If the wind, or rain, or anything, had moved that bullet a half-inch or so in any other direction, you'd be gone, little mate. It took us four days before you were stable."

Both the kits exchanged glances nervously.

Dr. Weissman pulled a shiny black sheet out of the folder and gestured to Robert. "If you'd like to see, here's a comparison of the cavitation the night after we got him stable and after the procedure. As you can see, the bullet missed any bones."

Robert nodded and stepped over.

However, Mike's ears perked. "Can I see?" he asked. Then he shot a look at his friend. "Can we see?"

The adults agreed and soon they were all positioned in such a way that all of them, even Tai, who was tucked in so tightly he couldn't really sit up without help, could see. Dr. Weissman described and explained the before-and-after x-rays, but even still they could all see the most obvious difference: there was a thick hole and visible damage straight through Tai's body in the first, almost nothing in the second.

Mike spotted something else at the bottom of the sheet. "Wait a sec," he murmured. "S-Sunda... that's your second name!?"

"Uh-huh." Tai snickered. "Sundafyllison."

"Bloody hell!" exclaimed Mike, gawking in disbelief.

Tai struggled to sit up, but didn't seem to have the strength to dislodge his sheets. Dr. Weissman shook his head at him. "Hold it, buddy. If you want to sit up, use the remote. It'll loosen the sheets for you too, and you won't have to worry about hurting yourself."

The tawny kit bit his lip slightly. "Oh, I forgot..." He pawed around until he found a small, corded remote at the side of his bed. Then his eyes widened. "Can I show them what it does?"

"Sure can, but don't start playing with it or the nurses won't be happy."

Promptly, Tai hit the button in the middle of the remote. With a whirring sound, the center of the bed started to rise, pushing the kit's hips upwards. He started to giggle, then he hit the top button and his hips were lowered while his shoulders and head were propped up.

"Oh, that's cool!" Mike said.

Tai just smiled happily.

Their eyes locked together for a brief instant. Mike felt a strange, almost 'glowing' sensation in his stomach, and his smile slowly faded.

After a second, he regained his composure and looked up at his father. "Um, dad?"

"Mm-hm?"

"C-can I talk to Tai for a little while? Um, alone?"

A smile crept onto Robert's face involuntarily, and he nodded. "Sure. I'll talk to the doctor elsewhere for ten minutes or something."

"Thanks."

When the adults shut the door firmly behind them, Tai shot a worried glance at his friend. "D-does he know?" he hissed.

Mike looked away. "Y-yeah. I think he does."

"Mike..."

"It's okay." Mike rubbed at his eyes and his finger came away slightly moist. "I'm happy you're okay."

Tai nodded, unsure what to say.

"I..." Mike swallowed noticeably again. "I-I was scared." His voice cracked.

For a moment, they stared at one another.

"You died!" Mike suddenly exclaimed, his voice accusatory. "Twice! Your heart stopped, twice!"

Nobody had told Tai that. The kit gasped.

"You bled out and your heart couldn't work right." Mike swiped his nose and sniffed.

Still unable to think of anything to say, Tai hung his head.

"B-but you're okay." The brown-furred kit sniffed again and shook his head. "S-sorry. I missed you."

Tai's weary paw slipped down to his side, and Mike immediately placed his own on top of it. Holding it tight.

For several minutes they stayed like that. Mike had started to cry slightly, and that had set Tai off as well.

Breaking the silence at last, Tai grinned at his friend. "I love you," he whispered.

"Yeah, yeah," Mike sniffled. "I know. Just don't get shot again, okay?"

"Sure! Okay!" The tawny pup gave a little chuckle. "It wasn't much fun anyway."

They both laughed. What little remained of the month long tension that had knotted Mike's entire body, and in some strange way, his mind, seemed to ease at last. Relief flooded his senses and a powerful elation overwhelmed him - he guffawed louder and harder than the wry joke had warranted, almost falling onto the linen-covered bed. In a second, Tai was caught up in the infectious laughter too.

The shy boy firmly placed his other paw over Mike's, and he confidently squeezed it with all the strength he could muster.

Mike's chuckles slowly died down, and once again they found themselves staring dewy-eyed at one another again.

Luckily this time didn't last too long. Mike looked down at the cottony, white-furred paw atop his own. He cocked his head at the strange clip on the other boy's index finger. "What is that, anyway?"

Tai eyed it. "Oh. It's taking my pulse." He cast a glance at the small television screen on the cabinet by his side. Some data and graphs were displayed in a crisp green text. "So the doctors know if, you know..."

"What?"

"If my heart stops again."

Mike shuddered. "Good, because they'd better keep it working. I swear. So, you don't have a TV in here? Anything?"

Tai shook his head. "Nuh-uh. They said I needed rest."

"Huh. Oh, hey! Wanna show me the bandages?" Mike's ears perked upright. "Nobody else will see!"

Tai's little furry triangles also stood up, and he grinned mischievously. "Alright!" he agreed, squirming up the bed a little. "Unhh... you'll have to help. Pull the sheets out some more?"

"Gotcha. Can you stand?"

"They said I shouldn't, but I can stand if I gotta."

"How do you go to the toilet?"

"Umm... you don't wanna know. C'mon!"

Mike promptly tugged on the sheets tucked under the bed. "Alright! Why do they tuck you in so tight anyway?!"

"To stop me getting out of bed. Nnh!" Together they loosened the sheets, and Tai kicked the sheets down, milling his legs as energetically as he could. Mike couldn't help but chuckle when he saw the white, cottony hospital gown, the cut of which ended just above the pair of skinny sandy-furred knees. After getting his legs free, the kit gasped and lay flat. "Whoa." He just breathed deeply for a few seconds.

Biting his lip with a small white incisor, Mike peered at his friend in concern. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah! I just get tired..." Tai grunted and arched his hips, reaching for the hem of his gown.

Mike laughed and quickly reached out, goosing the smaller boy's groin shamelessly. "I see your stuff!"

The ticklish kit giggled, continuing to tug his gown up until it bundled up around his neck. "Hey, you're doing more than looking!" he snickered quietly.

Shrugging, Mike looked over Tai's exposed body. "You don't care, do you?" Gingerly, Mike laid a paw just below the bandages encircling his friend's skinny torso; he rubbed the warm body slowly. "Huh. Yeah. I think you're just a bit skinnier than before. Just a teeny-tiny little itsy bit!"

"I don't know," replied Tai, content to just lie there and let his friend look him over.

"Huh. So there's no hole or anything?" Mike smirked and drew his paw sensually down to Tai's groin again. His hazel eyes flashed cheekily. "Does it bleed or anything still?"

Tai gasped. "N-no. I don't think so anyway. M-Mike!"

"What?" With a massive grin now, Mike trailed a finger down the sensitive member between Tai's legs, which was already stiffening from the feathery caress. He pulled down the kit's foreskin and lightly brushed the touchy pinkness. "What is it?"

Despite spreading his legs obligingly, Tai shook his head. "M-Mike, the nurse might change the bandages when you go!" he giggled, nonetheless smiling. "If I have a stiffy she'll see!"

"I'm goin' nowhere for ages, so what?" Also giggling, Mike slowly stopped and leaned forward onto the bed. "I wanna get you home. We're gonna be so naughty... like, more than normal."

"Yeah." Tai sighed. "I wish you could sleep in here with me. It's boring and they keep putting me to sleep. Um, help me get back under the sheets?" He laughed happily. "If someone comes in they'll see me like this."

Mike nodded and moved to help. "Okay. What do you mean by putting you to sleep?"

"They give me injections and pills and drinks, and afterwards I can't stay awake." Tai blinked. "I was scared at first until the dingo-doctor told me it was the medicine."

The brown-furred kit shivered, trying to help Tai's legs get back under the sheets. "They're drugging you?!"

"It's medicine. It stops it hurting." Suddenly, Tai started coughing. Hard. As he did, he winced and held a paw to his chest.

"You alright?!"

Tai nodded. "Kuh! Y-yeah, it's a-alright."

With a bit of effort, Mike helped his friend under the sheets again. Once Tai was comfortable again, Mike hopped up onto the edge of the mattress, his expression worried. "You need anything, you lemme know, okay?"

The tawny kit smiled and once again took his friend's paw. "Okay."

Suddenly, the door was knocked firmly and the boys heard Robert's voice from the other side: "Can we come back in now?" asked the grownup, muffled by the thick wood.

"Good timing!" sniggered Mike under his breath. "Sure!"

With the grownups back with them, they continued to discuss Tai's operation. It turned out Mike had absolutely no clue what firearm wounds were like - true, he knew they could kill, and he'd even seen it; an event he fervently wished he could forget. But the movies had lied big time to him.

"Oh, no," the dingo doctor insisted, shaking his head. "No such thing as a minor wound from guns, li'l guy. Thousands of years of development came up with these weapons; my surgeons would rather work with just about any other kind of injury. The movies always show people shot in the arm and being bloody fine with it, as if they don't have a brachial artery - in real life, that can kill you."

"Worse," Robert added, "the damage is often permanent. Imagine living in pain for the rest of your life, with shattered bones and damaged nerves."

Tai squirmed nervously. He had to wonder why the grownup was being so descriptive.

"But this is why I helped develop this procedure." Dr. Weissman laughed. "It's not perfect yet, but we've been able to repair nerve damage in traumatic injuries. I think it's going to change the world, honestly. The price and lack of long-term clinical observation is the only problem right now. Tai, you're one of the first in the world. Incredible you could afford it..."

"Ah." Adjusting his jacket, Robert shot a look at the kit. "His mother had something saved up for him, and let's just say he's got one hell of an insurance policy."

They talked on and on, and not just about the operation. Tai almost cried with relief when he heard Jake was okay.

But eventually the doctor checked his watch and frowned. He leaned closer to the base of Tai's bed and seemed to check something down there.

"Hrm." Weissman straightened. "The nurse will be here in five minutes Tai. It's time."

Tai lidded his eyes and sighed. "Okay."

The dingo looked at Robert and gave a wry smile. "I'm sorry mate, but there's no way he'll be able to stay awake for long after his medication. He'll be out like a light."

Mike's ears flattened, but he turned to the tall doctor. "Um, excuse me? Can you tell me exactly what it is you're giving him?" Robert smiled tolerantly.

"Sure can, buddy." The dingo shrugged. He smirked. "It's an anti-emetic sedative-hypnotic, with codeine and a little acetaminophen for pain-relief."

"What is it that's making him sleepy?"

"A large dose of promethazine hydrochloride and a few other sedatives. It's a little mixture, like I said; mostly using stuff you'd find in your basic over-the-counter pain and sleep medication. It's to keep the pain and side-effects of the surgery to a minimum."

Mike nodded. "Promethazine hydrochloride," he said perfectly. "Can you write that down?"

Robert chuckled. "Actually, heck, why not? Yes, please do. Any little bit of information could be interesting."

Dr. Weissman blinked. "Uhh, yeah, yeah sure."

"Also..." Mike looked over at Tai, the bed-ridden boy meeting his gaze curiously. "Can I please stay until he goes to sleep?"

"... Yeah. Alright. If your dad's okay with it."

When the nurse, the same one they'd met down in the reception area by chance, did knock on the door, the grownups quietly left. Tai drank the small capful of white liquid, making a horrible face as he did so, while Mike hovered by the bedside. When at last the nurse vacated the room as well, Mike immediately hopped back onto the mattress and took his best friend's paw.

They spoke softly to one another, and when at last Tai found his eyes closing ten minutes later, Mike simply fell silent, holding that paw as the younger boy slipped into rest. He leaned in closer and briefly stroked the tawny-furred brow, brushing aside the long fringe that hung over it. "Tai?"

It was all Tai could do to give a nigh inaudible exhalation in response.

That was okay though. Mike knew he could still hear. He touched his nose to the smaller kit's before delivering a tender kiss. "You're my hero."

There was no reply, just a slightest hint of a beautiful smile.

Mike didn't leave immediately though. Didn't release that little paw. He saw no reason to leave Tai all alone until it was necessary.

There had been enough of that. From now on, they'd never have to be alone again.

From now on, they had each other.

One month later...

The rusted roller-door squeaked abominably when thrust upwards, and the resounding crash when it receded into its housing unleashed a minor avalanche of snow and slush upon the heads of those standing below.

"Whoa, geez!" cried Mike, dancing out the way of a particularly large glob. He glared up at the roof of the red-brick building.

Chortling aloud, Robert stepped into the huge store-room and consulted the clipboard he was holding. "Watch out there."

Mike huffed, and his breath turned into a large cloud of fine mist that danced in the air before being whisked into the sky. "Come on, Tai!"

Behind him, the smaller boy was standing, his gloved paws in his jacket pocket, while he stared at the snow flurries playing above the blacktop of the loading area. After getting out of Robert's silver sedan, they had found themselves in an otherwise empty car park, a thin layer of white snow coated the expansive parking lot, and it was surrounded on three sides by single storey warehouses - rentable storage houses. A thick metal gate barred the exit, though he knew Robert had a key for it.

Brushing his blonde head-fur back into his hood, Tai turned and peered into the one Robert had led them to. It was dark inside.

"Where is it?" he heard Robert grumble. "Ahh. Come on in guys." There was a flicker, and then at last the halogen lights burst into full luminescence, bathing the oversized shed in a crisp brightness.

Confused, Mike looked around as he followed behind his parent. "Dad, what is all this stuff?" he enquired. "What's going on?"

Crates were sealed and stacked neatly into the corner. Unknown objects of various sizes were covered by tarpaulins, and several safes sat towards the rear of the unremarkable building. The two kits split up to look about, but everything was meticulously covered and protected.

Robert was still looking at the clipboard. "Now, according to the inventory..." He knelt and undid the anchoring for one tarpaulin. "Tai, come here a sec?"

The tawny kit obliged. "Yeah?"

"Take a look under here." Robert stepped back. "It's yours."

Tai frowned and took the tarpaulin in his paw. Slowly he lifted it up.

It took some time for his brain to register what it was he was looking at. With a gasp, he almost dropped the tarpaulin.

A colorful snowboard and boxed safety gear sat neatly bundled and strapped down on a pallet.

"What?!" he squeaked.

The grownup laughed. "The government finally cleared your mom's bequeathals. You've got everything she owned, Tai, and it was much more than you ever knew. Say hello to your birthday present. Or one of."

Tai physically staggered, but Mike quickly supported him. "Hey, whoa!" Mike sniggered. "Steady there!"

Robert stopped and pulled an envelope out from the clipboard. "Here, Tai."

Fumbling due to his padded gloves, the kit had trouble opening the envelope. When at last he resorted to just tearing it at the bottom, a key on a small silver chain slipped out and landed in his paw. "Huh?" He lifted it up.

On the end of the silver chain was a brilliantly detailed molded keychain in the shape of a flying eagle, holding a branch in its talons.

"Huh, an eagle?" Mike frowned. "What's that about?"

Robert chortled. "Tai's mother got it made last year for Tai's eighth birthday. It's a bald eagle holding a branch from a spruce tree. She said it was Tai's favorite tree."

Tai gave a slightly abashed smile. "I-it's a sitka branch."

"That's a key for this storage room, Tai. As well as the safes in the back." The grownup nodded in their direction. "I'll be destroying my key soon. This is all yours. Now, keep a hold of that envelope for a minute while we go look at those."

The heavy gray safes were constructed of study metal, bolted firmly into the concrete floor. Imposing and impregnable, Tai had to wonder what his parents saw fit to hide in them. Robert pointed at one of them in particular. "Go ahead, Tai. The key will open them." He indicated a small keyhole just underneath a keypad.

"O-okay." Paws shaking, Tai guided the key into the safe's lock. It took some effort to turn it, but when the tumbler did turn, with a loud click, the entire safe shook--a loud clunk resounded deep within the metal box, as its locking mechanism was retracted. Robert leaned in and took the side of the door, prying it open.

The safe was deep, and various items sat in it, including several sealed bags. Tai blinked and tried to make sense of it all. "Wh-what is all that?!"

Robert coughed. "It's... roughly six hundred thousand dollars, Tai. I'm supposed to be looking after it for you - but it's your money." The grownup laughed. "Along with the insurance money, I'd say your college fees aren't a problem anymore, Tai."

The tawny kit reeled. He had no affinity for numbers, but he knew that was far more money than he expected to ever see.

Mike, standing just behind his new brother, suddenly gasped. "Dad, is that what I think it is?!" he demanded, pointing at a long object towards the back of the safe.

Recovering, Tai looked at the item Mike was so urgently pointing at. He gasped.

The grownup, however, simply shrugged. "Pull it on out here and let's take a look."

Tai swallowed. "R-really?!" he squeaked. "Um, I dunno."

"It's safe, Tai. It's safe, and it's yours."

Reaching in, Tai closed a paw around the object. It was made of a synthetic plastic, and the moment he touched it he felt a strange shiver in his spine. Despite what Robert said, he wasn't sure he should be touching the dangerous object... all things considered. When he withdrew the heavy, yet evenly balanced, object, he heard Mike's excited breathing.

"Holy cow!" Mike exhaled. "It is a gun!"

Tai stared at the black and silver object with complete bewilderment. It was a longer firearm, a rifle, mostly made of what felt like a hardened rubber-like substance, but for the burnished barrel and a few other parts Tai had no names for. Despite being a rifle, it was really only about two-thirds of Tai's height, and it weighed little enough that he could hold it easily. He looked up at Robert with confused eyes, but the grownup simply chuckled.

"Tai," he said, ruffling the boy's long head-fur, "your father was a country boy too. Since he was nine-years-old, he had a gun for hunting. It was a tradition for him. He bought one for you, despite your mother not being too keen on it, and put it away for your ninth birthday."

However, Tai just looked from the gun to the adult.

"Now, you know how awful gunshot wounds are from personal experience," Robert said, folding his arms. "I don't think I need to remind either of you to not mess around with guns."

Both of the boys nodded enthusiastically, staring spellbound at the rifle.

"Um, dad?" Mike said softly.

Immediately, Robert nodded. "Yes, Mike. I'm thinking about it. All things considered, I'd say you're both mature enough to learn to defend yourself."

"C-can we keep it? I mean, do you have, ah, um..." Mike swallowed. "What's it called?"

"Of course, Mike. I have a firearms license." The adult closed his eyes briefly. "We've had a gun in the apartment for years. So yes, we can keep it."

"Yeah, I'm not surprised."

"... I'm sorry."

Tai held his breath, tightening his grip around the handle of the little rifle and its barrel. He lifted it up and stared at it. Finally, thanks to some unknown instinct, he put it to his shoulder.

"Do you like it, Tai?" Robert enquired, his tone light. "Your father spent days trying to pick one for you. I'm sure this is very unusual for you, and I know your dad never expected you to ever get shot yourself."

Tai nodded. It was light, and it looked strangely cool... though he certainly wasn't the biggest fan of guns in the world at this point.

"Your father wanted to teach you all sorts of things, but he wasn't able to." Smiling sadly, Robert laid a paw on the tawny kit's shoulder. "I'll see if I can stand in for him. I'm a poor substitute, I know."

Tai blinked. Though Robert's words were a little advanced for him, he got the idea. "No you're not," the tawny kit objected instantly.

"Thank you." Robert laughed dourly. "You know, he'd have laughed so hard at your faces just now. Would've really made his day; he grew up with these things and here you guys are looking at what he'd've called a 'kiddy-carbine' as if it's a live snake. Anyway, I'll see what I can do. Though admittedly you're not going to need hunting skills too much in the middle of New York City, you never know."

Mike snorted. "Ever been kidnapped and had to escape from crazy guys with guns?" he asked his father, his tone surprisingly insouciant.

"I'm afraid not." Robert smiled and tousled his own boy's head-fur now. "I see your point. But there's something much more important. Look in that envelope, Tai. There's something else for you."

Quickly, Tai withdrew the envelope from his jacket's pocket and peered at it. A small slip of cardboard sat in it. With fumbling, gloved paws he eventually pulled it out and frowned at it.

"Go on, read it."

It was a birthday card, but with no age on it, only the simple image of a generic birthday cake. Shakily, he opened it.

The pages inside were blank but for one side, which had several lines of handwritten text. They read: "Happy belated birthdays, son! We're sorry it took us so long." Beneath that, one set of handwriting had scrawled, "Happy Fourth Birthday, Tai!" Another below, with a different pen, added, "Happy Fifth Birthday, Tai!"

He started to shake. There were two different sets of handwriting, and many different pens. His mother and father had been adding to the card over the years. Towards the end, though the pens changed, the handwriting did not. One of the two writers had stopped contributing. Swallowing, he glanced down towards the bottom of the card at the last line.

However, it seemed that had been written first. It read, in the original pen and in two different sets of handwriting, changing half-way through, "Happy Ninth Birthday, Tai, and many, many more to come. We love you, now and forever. You'll always be the brightest star in our sky. From, Mom and Dad."

Tai almost dropped the card. He did drop the envelope.

"Well, Tai." Robert's voice was quiet. "Happy birthday."

The little southern restaurant was just as Tai remembered it, only a little warmer.

Also, it was much busier at this time of day, towards the dusky evening. Though he stood by his new father and beloved brother, waiting to be shown to their seats, the activity and loud chatter was keeping his heart beating quickly in his ears. But as bad as that was it was utterly drowned by the sickening anxiety he felt about why they were there.

He shuffled nervously.

"What's wrong?" Mike slipped a little closer, surprisingly alert to his brother's feelings as always.

"Um, nothing." Tai stared at the wooden floor.

Mike snickered. "Don't be scared!" he whispered as he unbuttoned the front of his heavy, snow-dusted jacket. "You know most of them, and they're all nice."

The tawny kit shook his head urgently. "I've never had a birthday party before, and... there's too many furs here."

"There are." Scratching his neck, Mike smiled. "Look, trust me. You'll be fine. Birthday parties are easy, you'll see."

A friendly faced waitress attended to them at last. She led them through the restaurant, and Tai stuck so close to Mike he almost tripped the bigger boy up. To Mike's credit, he didn't say anything even when Tai stood on his paw.

Tai barely suppressed a squeak when he saw them all. At least a dozen furs were seated at one of the larger tables towards the back.

Several of them he recognized. Ciaran was there, his rather trendy glasses upon his muzzle; Aaron and Millie, the two ring-tails, sat together, alongside their parents, on the opposite side. Tai felt an incredible rush when he realized Jake, as well as two older alsatians, sat next to the only empty chairs at the table.

"Jake?!" he exclaimed, his voice an incredulous gasp.

The teen smiled, somewhat shy. "Yeah, I'm still ticking."

"Well." Aaron folded his arms. "Gee, it isn't like we're glad to see you too." But his straight expressions slowly broke down to a grin.

Tai returned it. "Hey..."

Millie waved at him. "Nice to see you're out of the hospital, Tai!" she said, absently cuffing her brother on the head. His response was predictably caustic, but she ignored him. "Glad you're okay."

The tawny kit flushed so deeply he thought his fur would spontaneously combust. "I didn't think they'd be here!" he admitted under his breath to Mike.

"Of course. Can't have a birthday party without friends." Mike laughed. "And they are your friends, whether you like it or not."

Tai took his seat, deliberately making sure he sat between Mike and his father. It wasn't that he wouldn't have settled for sitting by Jake, but that this way he had Robert on one side, and both Jake and Mike on the other, giving him an even bigger buffer between his seat and the adults he didn't know.

Suddenly, questions and salutations were fired his way by almost everyone at the table, even those he'd never seen before. It took him maybe a minute to feel overwhelmed, and he started to draw in on himself.

Thankfully Robert noticed and came to his rescue, with seeming bluntness. "Hold it, guys," he chortled, directing his words more at the younger, more enthusiastic members at the table. "He's just out of hospital, give him some space please." It wasn't that the younger furs needed that admonition the most. After all, they'd met Tai before; Robert was tactfully warning them all, especially the adults who'd never met the tawny boy.

After all, Robert knew that most of the adults at the table were used to kits that had been raised to be sociable with everyone, older or younger than them. Tai, however, was anything but sociable. Yet. Mentally, the grownup stressed that 'yet' to himself.

Mike pulled a menu over and opened it besides Tai. The children's menu was utterly ignored. "Okay, sir!" he purred, doing his best butler impression. "Would sir like to browse his stinky-menu and decide on his entrée?"

Jake laughed. He leaned forwards on the table. "Oh, and Tai?" The tawny kit looked curiously over at him. "I know what you did last time. Don't get the cheapest burger on the breakfast menu, get whatever you want. Don't even look at the prices, okay?"

The skin beneath his cheek-fur burning, Tai still couldn't keep a sheepish little smile off his muzzle. He hid it by staring down at the menu. "Um... I don't..."

He fell silent.

"What is it?" laughed Mike. "Seen something you like?"

"Salmon!" Tai exclaimed, beaming at him. "Look! They have pink salmon!"

"Is that good?"

Tai nodded vigorously, his green eyes lighting up happily. "Smoked! It's my favorite!" He continued to read. "Oh!"

The entire table was watching him, but the delighted kit didn't seem to notice.

"What is it?" Millie enquired, raising an eyebrow.

Tai grinned stupidly. "Grits."

Mike blinked and looked at the menu. "What the hell is that...?"

"Look! Grits with butter and salt. My dad used to make it."

Covering his face with a paw, Robert sighed. "I'm not surprised. I really am not."

"What is it like?" Mike frowned in confusion.

"Mike, you'll probably like it," his father responded, chortling. "It's a disgusting, viscous mass, just like those nacho-cheese instant macaroni things you love so much."

"Can I get both?!" Tai asked excitedly, his ears perked hopefully. When Robert nodded, he actually giggled. "Yay!"

"Watch out though, you've not eaten anything really in the last two months, Tai. If you eat too much, you'll be sick." The tawny kit nodded his understanding. "We can take things home for left-overs too."

One of the lemur parents laughed lightly. "I hope they have a place for them to all run around, too. Another reason to not over-eat."

"Mom!" complained Aaron. "We're not five!"

Ciaran frowned slightly. "Actually, I think I'll have salmon too..." he murmured. "I like it grilled though. If it's not too expensive."

"Up to you," his father told him. "Just remember to tell the waitress that."

Tai paused, looking around the table again. He'd never been in such a gathering, not like this one. His ears were prickling from warmth and excitement. He wanted to take off his jacket, but once again realizing how many furs were around him had paralyzed him with nervousness.

Robert tapped him on the shoulder and leaned closer. "Tai? I'm gonna introduce you to everyone, okay?"

The tawny kit swallowed and reluctantly nodded.

The grownup shot him a reassuring smile before straightening up again. "Alright, everyone!" he began. "I'd like you all to meet Tai here. This little genius is the latest addition to our little apartment, and I can't tell you how proud I am of that."

Now Tai's ears felt like they were going to combust.

"He's a bit of a country-boy--a snowy-country boy, actually--and this is his first birthday party at a restaurant ever." Robert laughed. "I figured he was due for a proper one."

At first, Tai tried to will himself out of existence as Robert started to introduce him to the many grownups at the table. They were all polite to him, but that didn't really mean too much - politeness was just another form of remoteness. Eventually, though, Jake's father, whose fur was a much darker rust color than his son's, offered a paw for Tai to shake.

It wasn't easy, but Tai obliged.

"Glad to finally meet you, Tai," laughed the adult canine. "Both Jake and Rob have been telling me all about you."

Tai looked away bashfully, but he relaxed slightly. These were all parents of friends, he reminded himself. Good friends. Friends of a kind he'd not really experienced before. That helped a little in assuaging his discomfort in this utterly bizarre social setting...

He wasn't used to this. He'd been to parties and gatherings with lots of adults, yes, with his mother, but he'd never been the focus of the attention; quite the opposite. They'd never spoken to him, never included him. It was nice when Jake or Robert did it, but so many at once? So many he didn't know?

Luckily, the waitress attended their table in short order and discussion shifted towards hurrying those few who hadn't made their choices yet. Tai took the chance to remove his surprisingly fashionable black jacket. The one Mike had helped him pick.

The table descended into social chaos not long after that, too. While that meant Tai wasn't being assaulted on all sides, he still felt discomfited - it was so noisy. He found himself edging closer to Robert.

Something brushed his paw and he jumped. Surprised, he looked down and spotted Mike's fingers interlacing with his own, beneath the table. However, Mike was simultaneously conducting a conversation with Jake - perhaps trying to keep the activity under the table a secret. Tai smiled and happily held the older kit's hand.

There was a tap on his shoulder and he looked over. Robert had leaned in towards his ear again as it slowly started to perk up.

"They're all here for you, you know," the grownup whispered. Then he sat up straight again, going back to conversation with another adult at the table.

The bombshell took a little time to explode. Frowning, Tai puzzled his way through that enigmatic sentence, until it finally blasted him into insensibility. Once again, he scanned the twenty or so smiling faces - they were all there because of him. Furs who had met him, even if only once, had agreed to be here, and they'd brought their parents as well.

That hadn't ever happened before... Tai's birthdays were never celebrated by parties. He never had any friends he wanted to invite, even if his parents did decide to throw a party for him; he wanted the time away from everybody. But now, in the middle of what he thought was a dead-hearted, cold city, he was at a table surrounded by friends and family.

A brief surge of happiness made him dizzy, and he started to smile.

This was like a dream...

When Aaron twisted in his chair to address him, asking him about his stay in the hospital, Tai did the strangest thing.

He spoke to him, gladly. In fact, he started describing the hospital in detail, and discussed his grievous, life-threatening injury with that incongruous smile on his features still. He was tempted to exaggerate things playfully, but the incredible tale needed none of that.

After hearing Tai's recount, Aaron was clearly stunned. "Are you serious?!" he gasped, eyes dinner-plate wide. "That's amazing! How did you guys do that?!"

Tai shrugged. "Um, we just did."

Then he noticed every single pair of eyes at the table was staring at him, wide with astonishment.

"That's... not all true," scoffed Jake's father. "Is it?"

Their incredulous, skeptical stares made Tai wilt.

"It's true!" Mike insisted indignantly. "All of it." Disentangling Tai's paw, he slipped an arm around the smaller kit's shoulders. "He's a total hero, I tell ya. Brave, tough, and smarter than anyone I've ever met, and he's gonna learn that one day."

Tai shrunk away. "No I'm not."

"Hell yes you are." Mike leaned in closer and whispered, "I'd never have gotten out of there on my own."

The tawny boy had nothing to say to that, so he just flushed and looked at the table.

"You're both freakin' amazing..." Ciaran breathed.

Mike grinned at him. "It's okay though. Now that Tai's got a gun, I'd like to see someone kidnap him now."

"What?!" exclaimed at least half the table.

Carefully, Robert removed his glasses and covered his muzzle with a palm - again. "Bloody hell," he grumbled, knowing he'd need to explain the actual circumstances surrounding the gun and its ownership soon tonight. "I knew he'd brag about it."

"Oh yeah," Mike continued, his tone perfectly serious. "He's getting a grenade launcher for his next birthday."

The grayish furred arctic across the table smirked. "Flamethrower for Christmas in between?"

"Nah, that's going too far. He has to be older for that."

Millie sat forward eagerly. "Is it a big gun? Big caliber? Any trouble shooting it?"

Tai smiled a little and nodded. "Yeah. When I first shot it, I was like-" He mimed putting a rifle to his shoulder, and suddenly jerked as though struck by an explosion. "Boom! Whoaaaa!" Grinning, he pretended to looked dazed, his head rolling dangerously about on his shoulders.

The food arrived, yet not all at once. Though Tai's was the second dish to be laid out, and he instantly found himself salivating, he made no move to touch it.

"What's up, Tai?" enquired Mike, looking at the filled plate. "That... actually looks okay. Whatever that goopy stuff is. Smells good anyway."

Tai looked around the table. "I can't eat until everyone else has theirs," he responded in a small voice.

"Sure you can," Mike contradicted as Robert's phone started to ring. "You're the birthday boy. You get to cut the cake, pick the biggest bit, and can eat first. Geez, never done this before, have you?"

Tai had to giggle. "No."

"Speaking of cake," Robert announced, putting his phone away in his corduroy pants. "Someone is delivering ours right now. You boys might recognize a few of them."

Baffled, they both looked around.

Spotting the newcomers first, Mike let his jaw fell open. "Oh, sweet turtle-butts! Look at that!"

Tai turned to look in the same direction. He gasped.

Four uniformed police officers had entered the diner and approached the table. One of them, a broad-shouldered lion that Tai especially remembered, held a cardboard box with two arms - it was well over a foot in all dimensions. "Whoa..."

"How's it goin', Tai?" asked the leopard-officer. "All healed up?"

"Yes, sir!" Tai's ears pointed straight at the ceiling. "Is th-that really-?"

Richards laughed, nodding at the box his partner carried. "Yes it is. I know it's big, but hey, you've sure got a big party here."

Chuckling, Jameson placed the box towards the middle of the table. He barely managed to squeeze between Mike and Tai without hitting either of them with the plethora of things attached to his belt. "Happy birthday, Tai."

The tawny kit swallowed. "Th-thank you..."

"Believe me, it's anything but a problem."

Tai looked over at the other two police officers. Both were collies, though one was older than the other and had slightly different markings. Off his look, Jameson gestured at them.

"This is Sergeant Mendez and Lieutenant Edwards." The lion snickered. "These are the brains behind the rescue operation... if we don't count yours."

Edwards snorted. "You kidding?" he laughed. "I left my brains at home that night. The commissioner and chief were pretty upset with me."

Tai and Mike shared a glance. "We sure didn't mind," said Mike.

"Um, thanks for saving us," Tai added. "And for saving all those other furs."

Edwards shrugged. "It's what SWAT does. Even if we're feeling hung-over."

"We shouldn't stay," Jameson interjected. "But we had to put in an appearance. After all, this is a semi-official thing."

"Yeah, while we're on that." The younger collie put out his paw. "The NYPD would like to thank you both for your courage and ingenuity; your actions under extreme duress that night allowed us to save the lives of dozens, and put a stop to a dangerous criminal operation that had otherwise been unknown to us."

Both the kits shook his paw, feeling slightly awed.

"Your bravery has inspired the entire department." Edwards grinned. "Now, I gotta warn you. If you're up to it, the chief wants to throw you a real ceremony - you both deserve it. In fact, you might find yourselves awarded with medals, if we can find a way to do that."

Abashed, neither kit could find words to reply with.

Sergeant Mendez hefted a large bag. "Sir," he grumbled at the younger collie.

Nodding, the lieutenant took the navy blue tote bag by the carry strap. "But all of that's for another day." He withdrew another large box, but this one was wrapped by colorful paper and tied shut with a ribbon. "For now, here are a few presents. This ain't all of them either, but we ain't carrying everything here."

Tai blinked at the big box, and the collie reached past him to place it on the table.

"Now, I'd salute you both, but I'll save you the embarrassment." Edwards laughed and stepped back to join the other four. Tai quickly looked around and realized now the entire restaurant was watching them. "Now, in there is a card. It's an invitation to watch a SWAT training exercise, as well as a helicopter ride over New York City. We'd be honored if you'd both accept."

"I think we will..." whispered Mike, slightly shocked.

Tai shared a glance with him, amazed.

"We'll see you around, boys," Jameson said in his pleasantly deep voice. "Hopefully soon. Happy birthday, Tai, and I'm glad to see you're okay. I hope you like the present I picked out for you."

With a few more brief platitudes, the officers left. Tai watched them all the way to the door; then he turned until he was sitting facing directly forwards.

The entire table was either smiling widely at him or staring in utter shock.

He refused to even look at the other tables.

"Oh, where were we?" Robert said in a perfectly neutral voice. "Oh yes. I think it's time for the customary three-cheers thing. Happy birthday, Tai!"

All too eagerly, when Robert said the first 'hip-hip', the entire table exploded with the response. They did it again; and once again.

Before the kit could recover from that, deafening applause shook the very chair he sat in. Mike even gave an unreserved "Whoo!", punching the air as the other youngsters started to laugh.

Tai's face felt utterly aflame now, and he directed his gaze downwards, to his pungent smoked salmon. Yet he grinned wider than he'd ever done before. He had never felt like this before. It was... what was it? What was it really?

At long last, the rest of the food arrived to distract them all from the bashful pup.

So he made his move. There was something he really wanted to do.

"Um, excuse me?" he asked Robert, his eyes downcast.

"Hm?" Robert twisted around. "What's up, Tai?"

"Um..." Tai swallowed. "C-can I go outside for a minute?"

Robert nodded. "Sure. It's too hot in here, isn't it?" Tai nodded, grateful Robert was so perceptive. "Make sure you come back soon. Your food will get cold."

As he took his jacket in one paw, Tai quickly and surreptitiously tugged Mike's t-shirt with the other. Mike blinked, nonplussed, before finally clicking. "Oh, I'll come too." He lifted his own and followed Tai to the diner's door.

Tai used both paws to shove the door open, and he walked quickly out onto the street while putting on his jacket. Mike followed, confusion furrowing his brow as his younger friend moved away from the streetlight and stood on the street-side grass, in the darkness of a tree, hiding from view. Mike glanced around: the street was more or less deserted.

"Tai, what's wrong?" he asked, jogging after the kit and trying to put his own jacket. The cold wind hit him full-force as he ran into it, and the flurries of snow flew into his face. When he got to the tree, he found Tai had fallen against it, and had a paw to his chest. "Wh-what's wrong? It's not the... is it?" Tai shook his head. "Um, I'm sorry. I told dad not to invite so many. I didn't think he'd... Tai?"

Tai looked up at him, a smile on his face. "I-it's okay," he whispered. With only the briefest of glances to make sure they weren't being observed, he stepped forwards and embraced his friend fiercely. "I love you."

Immediately, Mike wrapped his arms around the skinny body clinging to his. "I love you too. But what's wrong?"

"Nothing." Tai laughed brightly and squeezed slightly. "I'm happy."

"That's okay then." Mike cradled his friend affectionately.

"This is the best birthday ever... I don't want it to end."

Mike laid his cheek against Tai's. "Tomorrow will be awesome too. I promise."

They stayed like that for several minutes, chests pressed tight and hearts beating together.

"You know..." Mike breathed into the small ear by his muzzle. "Your fish's getting cold."

"Yeah. But I wanna hug."

"Well. Me too..."

They closed their eyes and squeezed one another.

It would only be several moments before they knew they had to return to their seats. But the moment was all that mattered to them now.

"Mike, do I have to?!" Tai gave a sigh and paused in the act of putting his socks on while seated on the bed. "It won't be fun unless you're there."

Mike smiled tolerantly. "It will be!" he insisted. "I'm gonna be training all day. I've got so much to do. Hey, it's only Jake's house, and I'll be there at night."

Tai nodded glumly. "Alright."

"Jake's fun, trust me." Mike stepped into his flip-flops and adjusted his warm tracksuit pants. "He's got games and stuff too; and he really likes you."

Tai put his last sock on. "Okay." He tugged at the cotton until it sat right on his paw. "I hope you win."

"So do I!" Mike piped, smirking.

Tai meaningfully looked over at the medals and trophies adorning the kits' bedside table - for it was both of theirs now, more or less. Tai's biggest fears had been dispelled in short order. Robert made it very clear that he was going to keep Tai here.

It had been the most incredible month of his life. Since he got out of the hospital, things just changed; as rapidly as they had deteriorated, they had improved. Robert immediately withdrew Tai from his school. Now, he was home-schooled with his new brother.

That took a lot of getting used to. Robert's teaching methods were wildly unlike anything Tai had experienced. He gave Tai almost complete control over his own lesson plans. Rather than an impersonal teacher standing at the front of the classroom, Robert would talk to Tai about whatever he was studying. Sometimes, the lessons were actually more like games and discussions. It was utterly incredible, and Tai found himself learning and memorizing unusual things at a staggering pace.

After the weeks of idle convalescence and unpleasant fasting, Tai had lost even more weight. In less than a month, he was at his old weight again - meals were regular, and Mike suggested regular visits to Central Park... at least, it started out as just those. Tai soon discovered an interest in other things, with Mike as his 'tour guide.' Rock climbing indoors, while at first being scary, soon became a favorite of Tai's; not long behind that came other activities. Mike even persuaded Tai to enter the pool again with him a few times. Robert openly admitted the goal was to give Tai a physically active hobby - something he felt was necessary.

Yet Tai didn't mind the notion... he had no idea that there were so many sports and hobbies out there that wouldn't pit him against others. Physically, he was feeling better already. Ironically, Robert did introduce him to one somewhat competitive sport that he found himself liking against all reason: shooting.

The challenge of hitting a distant target was much the same as doing it with a ball or dart-gun, and the little rifle was perfectly suited even for the small-framed Tai. In a massive boost to his confidence, Tai outperformed Robert with it - size didn't matter in that sport at all!

Yet he was far from where Mike was. This cold, snowy morning, the barky-furred boy was warming up for an almost all-day swimming session to prepare for a serious competition against some of the best young swimmers in the region.

Tai wasn't even competing and he felt his entire body go cold at the notion. In fact, he was sure Mike had endured a scary nightmare the night before - maybe because he was scared of the race? Tai knew he'd be worried sick. Mike was more antsy than usual too. In fact, Tai was pretty sure he was a lot less confident than he was acting.

So Tai shot a smile at his brother. "You'll be fine!" Placing his paws above his head, he arched his back into a bridge, just for the sake of it. "You're the best swimmer ever. So, what kinda games does Jake have?"

"Oh, mostly really violent ones and stuff. They're awesome, and he's got a lot of cool party games too."

Flopping back down, Tai chortled. "I'll be playing games with Jake while dad's making you train your tail off."

"Meh, if I win, it'll be worth it!" Mike grinned. "Oh... are you really just gonna play video games with Jake?"

Tai cocked his head and frowned.

"Ahh..." Mike sighed, stretching out on the bed next to Tai. "Well, you can play with him instead."

"How d'ya mean?" Tai enquired, flopping down from his bridge.

Mike laughed. "You dork!" He draped a leg over Tai's. "Try and get him to be naughty with you! I mean, how often do you get to sleep over with him? Alone!"

"Oh, I don't know..." Tai blushed slightly.

"Don't you wanna?"

The tawny boy giggled nervously. "Um, I do," he confessed. In fact, he had wanted to since the night he met the clearly interested pizza-delivery boy; even if he didn't quite know what it was he wanted at the time. "But he won't do it."

"Try anyway..." Mike scratched his muzzle. "It's stupid. I know he won't do it with me just because I got raped."

"... Yeah."

There was an awkward silence. "I... still don't get it." Mike crossed his legs down at the ankles and closed his eyes pensively. "Dad still hasn't told me why he never said anything about it."

"Huh? You mean about the, um, ferret?" Just thinking about the murderer behind the mask, the creature that had killed his mother, made Tai's extremities go cold.

"Uh-huh. It's not fair." Using his wrist, Mike rubbed at his nose. "He's acting all like I'll forget it now. Of course I'm not gonna."

Tai gave a somber nod. "I know..." It seemed that, despite all that had happened, Mike still found it difficult to even discuss that night a few years ago with his father. As before, Tai understood instinctively: Mike still didn't want to risk his relationship with his father by discovering some dark secret. But it was still silly. "You should just ask him, Mike. Really."

"... I dunno. It never seems like the right time."

"I mean, do it right now." Tai sat cross-legged again. "If you don't just ask him, you might get too scared to later."

"You mean, walk right up and ask? I can't do that!" Mike raised an eyebrow. "That'd be weird."

"Please, Mike? I wanna know too, and I don't like it when you're upset."

Mike shot him a look, confused by the sudden emotional plea. "B-but... You really think I should?"

"Yeah." The tawny kit gave a reassuring smile. It worried him too - he knew there had to be a good reason for the entire mess. "It'll be okay. Your dad would never, never, never lie to you like that if he didn't have a good reason. Go ask what it was!"

The older boy stared at him with his hazel eyes uncertain for several minutes. Finally, he pulled himself upright.

"You're right..." Mike declared, sitting up again. "I should just go do it. Let's go."

Tai blinked. "Oh, m-me too?"

"Well yeah. It was your idea!" Mike's voice was imploring.

"B-but I..."

Mike walked over to his brother and laid his paws on the skinny, outstretched knees. "Please, Tai? I want you to be with me."

After a moment, Tai assented, getting to his own foot-paws. Promptly, Mike gave him a hug.

"I really gotta ask this..." he whimpered. "You're right, I gotta ask, like, right now. Help me?"

Tai simply nuzzled at the taller kit's chin.

When they separated, Mike took a moment to steel himself before tugging open his room's door.

He strode purposefully from his bedroom to the den at the other side of the apartment, where he could hear his father watching television.

But as they approached the grownup, Mike felt his conviction waver and he came to a physical halt at the living room's entrance, staring at the large, familiar form on the couch. For some reason, the kit realized just how much larger his father was than he. Though hardly the typical burly jock, his father still easily dwarfed his ten-year-old son. Irrationally, Mike found himself afraid.

How could he even ask this? What would he say? The usually confident boy stepped back.

Last night, Mike had awoken just short of screaming, and he knew that Tai had heard him. Desperate to talk about the issue, he directed his conversation with Tai to it just then. But somehow he let his new brother talk him into barging in on his dad watching the news to ask him about such a stupid thing. That was not his plan.

"What's up, guys?" Robert asked, sitting forward. "We're not leaving for another forty-five minutes."

Making sure Tai was still with him, Mike forced his body to take a forward step. "Dad?" he squeaked tremulously. "I have a big question."

Robert stood up and stretched. "Does it have to be big?" He grinned. "I prefer little questions. Snack-sized ones."

That brought a smile to Mike's face, which helped a lot, but he banished it quickly. "It's serious."

The grownup just nodded. "Okay, shoot."

Biting his lip, Mike struggled for a way to phrase it. His father just looked at him curiously, attentive. The way he did whenever Mike had a question, dumb or otherwise - he never felt stupid after asking his dad a question, but now he found himself feeling incredibly dumb before asking one.

What Robert said next somehow managed to make him feel even worse. "You can ask me whatever you like, Mike, go on."

"Oh, shit," muttered the boy. "Um, dad? Can you tell me about the ferret-guy? You know, the one you... um."

The silence descended on them all like an anvil. It felt like there was an audible clunk.

Mike pressed on. "Because, look, I know the one that you pushed out of the window was the same one who... raped me when I was smaller. Was he also the same one who shot Tai's mom? Wh-who was he?"

Instantly, Robert froze. "Oh, fucking hell..." All of a sudden, the tall adult looked afraid. "Mike, I don't know..."

"Please, dad..." murmured Mike. "C'mon, I thought you never wanted to lie to me like a dumb kid. This is important, I need to know. Tai deserves to know too."

Robert lidded his eyes, and Tai almost squeaked.

"Mike..." The grownup sat down on his couch again. "If I promise to tell you, will you answer one question for me? I'd rather you tell me now than find out ten years from now from someone else."

The kit cocked an ear. "Okay. If you promise."

"Why do you want to know? What are you afraid of hearing?"

That question alone brought the discussion to a crashing halt. It felt to Tai as if the entire room had grown cold. He watched the two breathlessly, looking from one scared face to another. Well over a minute passed in silence, and nobody made eye contact.

Finally, Mike swallowed. The effort to say what he needed to nearly drained him before he'd even utter the first syllable. "T-that you let it happen."

Robert's face briefly contorted. "Oh, bloody hell," he whispered. "Thank you, Mike."

Further silence while the grownup tried to compose a response. Tai suddenly felt horribly awkward - this wasn't a discussion he should be hearing, was it?

"I-I wouldn't ever do that, Mike." Robert sniffed. "You know that. I'd never have let anyone hurt you like that."

"But why keep it a secret!? Did you let him get away with it?"

"Because there was so much I wasn't allowed to tell you..." The adult shook his head firmly. "So much I didn't think you'd want to know. I shouldn't have, I know. I'm not going to do it anymore."

"Dad?"

Again, Robert paused to consider his words. "Alright, listen," he said clearly. "Both of you. It's a bit of a long story - and it won't be anything like what you're expecting. About a year before you were born, Mike, I had been living and working in the States for over three years. I was bored of my desk-job, and briefly, stupidly, I wanted to become a sort of field agent myself. To cut to the chase, I considered joining the CIA's Special Operations Group. Ever heard of them?"

Mike glanced at Tai. "No," Tai admitted. He'd read much about the CIA, but never heard the term before.

"Hardly surprised; it's not something you'd find in a typical kid's spy book. It's not subject matter for 'immature' persons." Robert smiled slightly. "It's a special forces unit. Soldiers, sort of. They take people from all over - SEALs, police, the Marine Corps, and all of that. Sometimes even from within the agency. No displayed ranks, insignia... given further training by the CIA; to my younger self's way of thinking, they were the epitome of cool. I considered applying as a field intelligence specialist."

"You almost became a soldier?" Mike blinked.

Robert laughed. "Oh, god no, not even close. I doubt they would have touched me in a million years, Mike; they prefer guys with experience, and I had bugger all of that. I thought it was worth a shot though - get myself into shape, sharpen a few skills they might want, and then see what my chances were. I was already playing football at the time, so I didn't think the physical would be an issue. They also require a university degree, and I was a few months away from my bloody masters, and had several years of analyst experience. Just a little optimistic of me, really."

Mike shuddered. "Ugh. I don't want you to be a soldier, okay?"

"Hold on a moment, Mike. If I hadn't done this, I wouldn't have met a certain four furs. Your mother - and Tai's mother and father - were field operations officers. Not the job I was looking at, exactly; they work undercover, and if they're shooting at things that means something went wrong. I was looking at joining a unit of, well, sort-of-soldiers like I said."

"Why the hell would you want to do that?!" Mike objected - he really seemed to hate the idea.

"We have soldiers and police in our family history, Mike." Robert scratched his ear. "I was younger and a bit silly. I wanted action, adventure... even though I didn't know what those things really were. I didn't have anything in my life to make me reconsider that, not yet: you weren't born yet, and I hadn't met your mother yet. Like I said, good thing I was sillier when I was younger, or else you'd never have been born."

"Okay. Just don't do it again." Mike's face was perfectly sober. Which Robert was aware didn't exactly mean he was being serious.

"I won't. After a time, I ended up close friends with those three - and one other. They all gave me a paw with what I needed to learn. Especially one." Robert took a breath. "The name I knew him by was 'Nathan' and he was a ferret. He was especially helpful, because he had once been in the Special Activities Division. In fact, he was very helpful: he warned me to never join it."

Mike nodded gravely.

"He told me a lot. Probably more than I'm cleared to know - Nathan really wanted someone to talk to, actually. He told me what sorts of things he had to do in the S.O.G., and some of it was awful."

Tai spoke up at last. "Like what?" he asked in a small voice.

"I don't know..."

Immediately, Mike scowled. This was the last thing he wanted to run into. "Dad... we're old enough to know."

The grownup sighed. It had nothing to do with age; many of the horrible things a parent would want to keep away from their young children, these two had experienced first-hand. Unfortunately that was also why he never wanted to speak of these things again. "Bugger," Robert muttered. "Alright. Here's an example - and I'm not kidding, don't ever repeat this, boys. To anyone."

They both nodded.

"He was deployed to an African rogue nation with a squad to terrorize a small town, more a village, harboring an active terrorist cell; it paralyzed their operations, but they were basically being terrorists to terrorists. I don't recall exactly why they did it, but nonetheless..." Robert coughed. "They routinely kidnapped females and children to rape. Tortured suspected terrorists for information. Destroyed infrastructure; like water pipes and towers; ambushed food deliveries and burned crops. They were told to be monsters. Nathan swore he never killed an innocent fur, and that he was sure they prevented several attacks... but eventually, he said it was too awful for him and he left the unit."

Mike gave a despondent snort. "Yeah. That's why he kept doing it."

Robert nodded. "I'm not going to be stupid enough to defend what he did to you, Mike. If I could've, I would've hunted him to the ends of the Earth for hurting you. But even I know it wasn't that simple. One day, he vanished, and not even the CIA could track him down. It seemed like someone, somehow, had managed to find a way to blackmail him - I never found out what it was." Robert paused. "Imagine if someone kidnapped myself and Tai; Mike, if they then asked you to do something would you really not do it? Even if it was awful? Especially if they said they'd kill us both?"

Instantly, Mike's hazel eyes became upset. "I..."

"I don't know why he did it, Mike, but I thought I knew him. At first, I thought it was just a coincidence - then I checked to see if he tried to take anything from the computer, or tried to search the house. He had; when I figured out it was him, I tracked him down." Robert sighed. "Please think about it, Mike. I'd have to tell you that an old friend of mine, a soldier-spy, had hurt you just to hide the fact he wanted to take top-secret information from the same computer you played games on, and that I worked on the side for the CIA. I thought you'd been through enough... I never wanted to upset you by telling you all of this crazy stuff. Was I really so wrong for doing that?"

Mike nodded, feeling slightly sheepish now. "I-I guess not."

"No, you're right. C'mere." Robert opened his arms and Mike gladly straddled his father's knee, embracing the grownup tightly. "You're right to be upset at me. I didn't want to hurt you more than you had been already - and you said yourself you just wanted to forget about it. I never expected Nate to show up again."

Tai shuffled slightly. "Umm... R-Rob?"

The grownup snickered. "Still gonna just call me that, huh?"

"Sorry... dad." Tai felt a strange warmth prickle his entire body just from saying that. It made him smile stupidly, despite what he was about to ask. "Um, i-is that how they found my mom and me?"

Robert shook his head. "Nate may've been ex-CIA, but he hadn't been an intelligence analyst before - he probably thought all the data was just lying there, maybe password protected or something; but I only had what information I needed to know, such as the agents in my area, and since the CIA doesn't usually operate in its own country, that was maybe four guys, all doing nothing interesting." The grownup smirked. "Not to mention it was encrypted, before I'd deleted it... If he'd had the time, or taken the hard-drives, he might've been able to find, maybe, an out-of-date dossier for your mom - you know what that is?"

"Um. Birthday and name and stuff?"

"Yep. Personal information. But the chances of him getting even that would've been tiny. If you're missing even a little bit of encrypted data, the whole thing can't be read, and anything I'm not allowed to have offline on my hard-drive I delete securely." Robert paused, squeezing his son gently. "So... the good news is that, actually, I don't see how Nate could've found your mom."

Tai nodded, waiting for Robert to explain the bad news.

"The bad news is... I don't think your mom's cover was blown." The grownup's face became melancholy. "She was doing fine. But I think that wolf teenager, Darron, recognized her somehow when he started working at the docks, and he just happened to get Nathan to..." Robert fell silent.

The tawny kit closed his eyes and nodded.

In a way, knowing that helped. He couldn't explain why, but it just did.

"Tai?"

"Yes?"

Robert laughed. "Come on. We don't need to leave for some time, and I've got a spare knee here."

Tai looked around nervously, clinging tightly to his new gym bag.

The house was big, to say the least. In fact, Tai didn't think he'd ever been in such a beautiful, large home.

Walls of creamy white, decorated with tasteful paintings and wide windows; antique wooden furniture, and potted plants... It was a rather open-plan sort of house, and very spacious. Tai looked back out the security door he'd just entered through. The front garden was spectacular, with a broad lawn and two slightly denuded trees - as the snow trickled down from the sky, it collected like cotton fluff in the branches and upon the grass.

"Wow," he muttered, peering out even further - he hadn't noticed before, but the other houses in the street looked amazing too.

"Staten Island for you."

A paw touched his shoulder and Tai looked up at his new father. "Huh?"

"It's a good place. Much less cluttered than Manhattan." Robert grinned. "Come on, don't be shy. They're all looking forward to seeing you again."

Shucking his gym bag onto his shoulder, Tai slowly followed behind the tall adult. It was bad enough that he was staying here the night without it being a veritable palace! Worse, Mike wouldn't be joining him for ages! He was going to be alone with Jake...

Which at first didn't sound too bad, but honestly, he didn't know Jake that well. He'd only met him a few times, really. It wasn't Jake himself that worried him - he knew Jake was a nice person. He knew Jake wouldn't turn on him. No, it was his own potential clumsiness that concerned Tai. He felt awkward around furs he wasn't familiar; said stupid things. He didn't have the confidence Mike was blessed with.

"Jaaaake!" called the teen's mother. "Your guest has arrived."

Tai flushed, then blinked in amazement when they arrived in the central foyer. As expected, it was large, with a high, vaulted ceiling, supported by polished wooden struts, and it branched out into the sitting room, the kitchen, a dining area and what seemed to be a study. Tai started to really, really feel worried now as he looked around the well furnished sitting room. What if he dropped something on the plush carpet? Or knocked something over?

"You know," muttered Robert, dropping back to address his newest son, "at least she's stopped announcing it as a 'play-date.' She used to love doing that to annoy Mike and Jake; of course, it was a play-date, they just hated the word. Don't blame them, do you?"

Tai smiled wanly.

Then he heard some heavy thumping, and he looked at the opposite side of the open foyer. He'd almost missed the staircase - Jake's house had a second storey too?! This was incredible.

The teenager padded down the stairs, scratching at his head. He looked a little sheepish as he crossed the space over to the foxes. He was clad in a simple t-shirt and jeans, looking like he fully intended on not going out that night - Tai approved; last thing he wanted was to have to go anywhere else tonight.

"Hey guys," he greeted them simply. Tai looked from the teen to his adoptive father - despite Robert being at least twice his age, Jake was nearly as tall as him.

Jake's mother bustled past him. "Sorry. Okay, we've not got long, so..." She paused in the kitchen and clapped her paws. "You know the drill, Jake, you can explain it all. Tai, I'm very happy to have you here for tonight, and I'll see you when we all get back."

The kit blinked.

"We're all having a bit of a night out," explained Robert. "So it'll be just you and Jake until I drop Mike off here."

"Oh." Tai was surprised. He expected Jake's parents to be hanging around too. It was a relief to know it would just be him and the delivery boy. Not long after that unexpected revelation, Robert announced he had to get going.

Jake grinned at the kit. "Come on, Tai," he said, thumbing in the direction of the stairs. "Let's go to my room. You don't want to be down here when my parents are running around getting ready to go out."

"Yes, apparently I'm part bull. Excuse me!" With that, Jake's mom made a beeline for the stairs herself.

Robert smiled at the shy kit. "Alright, Tai. I'll be here at eight in the evening with Mike, and you guys can sleep over here. Tomorrow's a big day, so don't let Mike forget that. He's not going to get anywhere without getting some sleep - especially not after today."

"Okay..." Tai shuffled. "Don't be late!" He grinned slightly.

"Won't be. See you both. It's time for Mike to get wet."

As Robert quickly said his goodbyes, Jake led his 'guest' upstairs. Tai trudged along warily behind.

When they reached the next level and Jake opened the door into his bedroom, Tai was surprised even further to discover it was nothing like the rest of the house. It was a big bedroom, yes, but it was such a far cry from the studious neatness of the other rooms. The double bed was unmade, littered with clothes, as was the carpet. A computer with a monitor, as wide as Tai's arm was long, rested on a cluttered desk.

Jake pulled the curtains back to allow some light in. "Sorry for the mess," he mumbled. "We won't be in here for long."

"It's okay." Tai stepped closer to the window. It gave him a good view of the street below, and he saw Robert's silver sedan pulling away. He fidgeted.

"Come on, I'll show you the video games I've got. Mike said you'd never played any before you guys met, so let's see what you think of my little collection." The teenager grinned. "I've only got a hundred or so."

Tai's ears perked. "A hundred?" he repeated, slightly incredulous. "Wow."

As Jake made to move away, he noticed the kit's lingering stare out the window. "You okay, Tai?"

"Um... yeah." The kit nodded.

"Don't be worried, dude. I'm not a jerk; you'll be fine here. We'll have fun." Jake shrugged. "Your new dad just wants you out of the house for a bit."

A sensation eerily like icy water spreading from his heart to fingertips made Tai nauseous. "Wh-what?" he asked in a tiny voice. "What did I do...?"

Jake gasped. "Oh, I didn't mean it like that, relax! No, no, you don't get it."

"What?"

"Look, it's just because you're homeschooled. Rob just wants to make sure you meet others, get some social interaction going on, yadda-yadda. He didn't want rid of you, he just wants to make sure you're not cooped up." Jake smiled. "Believe me, you're lucky. Instead of school, you're getting your dose of sociality from sleepovers, sports and hobbies. You can pick with who and where to hang out. I wish I had that chance."

Suddenly, Tai remembered the first day he met Mike, when Mike casually told him he simply just didn't suffer anyone who picked on him...

"I've heard he's been trying to get you into a sport or hobby, right?" Jake sat in his computer chair. "Anything interest ya so far?"

Tai gave a short nod. "Um, shooting."

"... Wait, what?" Jake blinked. "Wait, real guns, or...?"

"Yeah... my dad left me a rifle." Tai sat cross-legged on the carpet a few feet away from Jake.

The teenager frowned slightly. "What sort of rifle?"

"Uh, a two-thirteen carbine." Tai shrugged. "Whatever that is."

"You don't have any problems shooting it?" Tai shook his head, and Jake scratched at his muzzle. "That's bizarre, man. You get shot, then you get into shooting. You're a weird kid."

"It's not just that. I like swimming and climbing and stuff as well." Tai found the swimming thing just as ironic as the shooting - that night a few months ago had been unpleasant in a variety of ways.

"Ah, yeah. I heard your dad was getting you to try different stuff. You'll find something - believe me, it's worth it." Jake turned his computer on. "It's how I met them, you know. Swimming. My dad organizes the local swim meets. Not like tomorrow's, tomorrow's a regional."

"So do you swim?"

Jake snorted. "I did, yeah. I helped teach Mike to swim. I dunno, kinda got bored of it - and, uh, one day, something really put me off."

Tai smirked. "Yeah, Mike told me. You got a stiffy in the changing rooms."

To Jake's credit, he managed to suppress his sudden desire to throttle the fox. "Yes, true. Those competition briefs make it really obvious too - so that's why I started sticking to board-shorts and stopped competing." He coughed. "You shouldn't laugh, kid. You'll pop one sometime really embarrassing soon, if you haven't already. Anyway, yeah. Until my 'rents are out of the way, let's spend some time blowing stuff up, huh?"

Leafy-green eyes widening, Tai went to his knees and shuffled forwards. "Sure!"

Relaxing on the den's luxurious couch, Jake amused himself listening to the subdued splashes and sounds of the young kit in the bath. Tai hadn't been enthusiastic about it at first, but Jake insisted - he'd agreed to it already with Robert, and figured it'd be smarter to get the whole ordeal over and done with. When he got in, though, Tai seemed to be having fun. Jake gave him a few of his old toys, not really thinking they'd provide much entertainment at all, but it turned out the nine-year-old was quite pleased by his selection. Perhaps out of habit, Tai's youthful 'sound-effects' and such were kept quiet, but Jake heard them nonetheless.

But it didn't last long. Jake had supplied him with only a few toys, and no kid really 'works well' with another's toys. Jake heard the water disturbed as Tai hauled himself out of the bath. Though the teen knew he'd still have some time to himself; fur was a nightmare to dry, and unless Tai gave up and asked for his help, the kit was going to be some time just toweling his tail off.

Jake crossed his legs and lifted up his book again. The television was on, displaying a video game; it was paused, though, awaiting the fox kit's return.

Nearly ten minutes later, the bathroom door opened and Tai's face poked into the corridor. "Um, Jake?" he called softly, as if worried someone else would hear. "Jake?"

The teenager put his book down. "Yeah?"

"I forgot my clothes."

"Where are they? Your gym bag?"

"Yeah."

"I'll get them. Want me to leave them at the door?"

"Um, y-you can come in. I don't want to drip on the carpet." Tai retreated back into the bathroom, and Jake groaned in dismay.

He quickly darted upstairs and grabbed Tai's little gym bag. Briefly, he thought about rooting around for Tai's clothing, but decided it wasn't worth the effort. With the bag hitched on his shoulder, Jake descended the stairs again and went directly to the bathroom door.

To his surprise, it had been left open, and when he looked in, he was greeted to the sight of a skinny, tawny-furred butt and tail pointed directly at him. At first he thought he was being mooned, but then he realized Tai was leaning on the side of the tub and toweling off his paws.

"Ahem," the teenager grunted, cursing his suddenly manic heart.

Tai gasped in horror and spun around, covering his groin with his paws. When he saw it was Jake, his features displayed some serious relief. "I'm sorry!" he said, drawing in on himself. "I thought I shut the door."

"It's alright, Tai." Jake, deciding to not make a big deal out of it, smiled slightly. "It's not much more than you've shown me before. Here's your bag." He placed the bag on the floor, but then he frowned at the tawny boy. His long head-fur hung wetly around his face, matted and straw-color. "Tai, you've got to dry your fur properly. It's too cold to keep it that damp."

The kit blushed. "I-I usually sit in front of the fire to dry it off in winter..."

"We don't have a fireplace here." Jake lidded his eyes. "Alright, hold still." He crossed the room and picked up the towel Tai dropped. As he moved over, Tai swallowed and took his paws apart. A jolt stiffened Jake's spine momentarily as he saw the shy kit's uncovered genitals.

Ignoring it as best he could, he guided Tai to turn around by his shoulders, starting to gently towel the kit's head.

However, he'd turned them both to face the mirror. Jake laughed as he spotted the strange reflected visage facing him - Tai's paws were by his side, and one of his eyes was scrunched closed to protect it as Jake was ruffling his hair with the towel. Tai giggled as well. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing, nothing." Jake gently patted down the long fur. He mentally sighed and made a decision. "Lift your arms up? I'll finish drying you off, since I'm here." Slowly, Tai lifted his spindly arms and Jake knelt, vigorously drying off the kit's torso. "Winter coats are such a pain to dry, huh?"

"Yeah." Tai shivered. When Jake's paw, through the towel, rubbed over the top of his crotch he giggled and squirmed.

"Sorry," Jake apologized. "I'm not being a pervert. I guess you're not used to being dried by someone else, huh?"

The kit shook his head. Jake finished rubbing down to Tai's knees. "Why do kits never dry off properly, huh?" Jake mused to himself. "Oh, and yeah, this is what you get for leaving the door open." He dropped the towel and slipped his arms speedily up around Tai's torso. He clinched the kit in a bear-hug and dug his paws right into the concave armpits high on the skinny form.

Tai squealed and exploded into helpless laughter, his paws uselessly leaving the floor as Jake lifted his scarcely fifty-pound body and walked him out of the bathroom, mercilessly tickling him - his kicking and tail-lashing completely ineffectual. Jake eventually set him down on the carpet in the corridor, and tickled the nude kit until he curled into a ball on the ground.

"That's for always teasing me." Jake grinned, sitting by him. "Believe me, Mike is gonna get it too."

Gasping for breath, Tai flopped to his back spread-eagled. "No more!" he begged, but a brief chortle gave Jake some doubt as to how genuine the plea was. "Wah!" Tai suddenly rolled onto his side, covering his groin again.

"Don't worry," the teenager assured him, brushing the fox's ear. "Nobody else is here, and you've shown me nearly as much before - and tried to show me more. Chill out."

The kit looked up at him, his green eyes curious. After a moment's pause, Tai rolled to his back again and spread out. "Okay." His voice was serious.

"Come on, get dressed. We've got a game to finish." Jake stood and ambled back to the living room.

Breathing deeply, Tai sat up, smiling widely. For some reason, he was reminded of the first day he met Mike. With a mischievous chuckle, he narrowed his eyes at the teen. Looking down, he realized he was slightly stiff.

Maybe Mike was right.

A game to finish? Tai had a whole new one he wanted to start...

A minute later, Tai padded into the den, clad in just his blue pajama trousers. Jake looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "It's cold," he admonished. "You really should put a shirt on."

Tai flushed. "I only brought two t-shirts, and one is for tomorrow."

"No pajama top?"

Caught, Tai shook his head. "Don't want to wear it just yet."

Jake lidded his eyes. "Alright," he muttered. "I see how it is. You want me to tickle you some more, right?"

A grin snuck onto Tai's face. "Um... maybe."

The alsatian rolled his eyes. It was pointless to make a fight out of it. "You're as bad as Mike. C'mon, got some stuff to show you in the game."

Tai skipped over and sat on the couch. In seconds, he nestled his back up against the much larger body and put his legs out in front of him, reclining against Jake's side. Jake slipped an arm over the kit's chest, beneath his arms, and took hold of the Gamestation controller again. After some squirming, Tai got comfortable.

Eventually it became clear Tai wasn't too interested in the game, and was just enjoying the contact. Jake swallowed and put down the controller.

"Alright, you," he grunted, looking down at the little boy in his arms. Suddenly, the realization that he was snuggling the quiescent pre-teen, on his couch - as if he were a_date_! -struck him and he shivered all over. "Oh, crap."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Jake shook his head, reminding himself that it was merely Tai being affectionate. "You're not too interested in the game, are you?"

"I-!" The kit bit his lip. "I am."

Yeah, Jake thought, right.

Forcing the fact that his heart had once again started to beat erratically out of his mind, Jake hovered his face over the boy's. He narrowed his eyes and stared into Tai's. "Well, I think I'm more interested in tickling little jerks for teasing me."

Tai looked away shyly. "I'm not teasing..."

"Sure. Whatever, pal."

"Y-you can still tickle me though."

Jake gave an evil grin and took the kit's wrists in his paws. "I knew it. You're gonna get it now, weirdo."

Unsurprisingly, Tai didn't resist as Jake pulled his arms above his head. Instead, when it became clear what the teen was trying to do, Tai actively helped, repositioning himself on the sofa until Jake had him laid backwards across his lap... arms stretched out above him and held tight by the much stronger teenager. The kit tried to slow his excited breathing, but to no avail.

Equally timorous, Jake gathered those wrists into one paw as best he could and let the other lie on Tai's skinny chest. He couldn't believe he'd gone merely this far - but he couldn't deny he wanted to. It wasn't dirty, it was just playful. Only playing. He reminded himself of that.

Tai swallowed, but didn't say anything. He just watched the teen with his leafy eyes expectant.

"Let me know if you want me to stop..." Jake held his breath for a moment, but then slowly let his free paw scratch at the kit's exposed armpit again. Just a slow, gentle movement of his fingers to start off.

Tai inhaled sharply and stiffened, closing one of his eyes in a wince. "Nnh!" he groaned, immediately starting to shake involuntarily. "Gak!"

The slowly moving claws made their way down his side, and Tai instinctively brought his knees up, fighting the instinct to buck. He giggled lightly.

"T-Tai?" whispered Jake, not pausing. "Try and hold still. Show me how tough you are."

The kit nodded, valiantly biting back his squeaky complaints. Bravely, he extended his legs again and lay flat for Jake.

Jake was suddenly enthralled. He could feel the little muscles beneath his paws and through the warm flesh and fur; dancing gently, quivering only slightly while Tai whimpered from a mere half-tempo scratching down his side. When he reached the concave, exposed belly, Tai jumped before getting himself under control and bursting into laughter once more.

"Oh no!" he wailed, forcing himself to sit still.

"Whassamatter?" Jake started to move across to the other side of the slender body. By now, he was grinning in spite of his fluttering heart. "Having trouble holding still?"

Tai nodded. "Yes!" He wriggled his bare toes in a futile attempt to distract himself. "Y-you're good!"

"Oh well." Jake shifted. "You're just lucky I can't use both paws..."

The kit gulped, and Jake nearly whimpered himself when he felt the movement of the boy's taut stomach muscles as a result. But his will, and sanity, was tested thrice as hard when Tai spoke next.

"Y-you can tie me up if you like."

Jake's muzzle went dry, and he shook his head. "N-not yet..." he replied. He immediately wondered what temporary insanity had made him say that instead of rejecting the idea entirely.

He started to up the pace, enjoying the ambivalent expression of joy and consternation on the kit's features as he did. A strange, giddy sensation, sort of like if he had plunged off a tall building, or maybe jumped as high as one into the sky, threatened Jake's senses. He started to chuckle himself, but kept the tickling at its tormenting pace.

Tai had begun to laugh in earnest now, and he was clearly struggling to sit still. It was just ticklish enough to be horrible, but he wasn't laughing or crying so hard that he was tired or having trouble breathing.

At last, Jake stopped, resting that paw on Tai's belly. The kit caught his breath and grinned. "Is that all?" he blustered, his ears perked upright.

The alsatian chortled. "Nah, just for now." The teenager inhaled shakily, slowly rubbing the boy's stomach, for no reason but because he wanted to. Tai just stretched out and sighed.

After a minute, Jake placed his paw in the center of the skinny boy's chest and spread it. It covered much of the ribcage. Suddenly, he recalled the visage in the mirror... Though Tai was smaller than he was, it took seeing him behind the fox kit in the mirror to see just how big the size difference was. The span of his paw was nearly the span of Tai's chest... and yet...

Jake closed his eyes. "Damn!" he croaked.

"Wh-what's wrong?"

Jake shook his head. "Nothing..." The teenager sighed. "Um, look, I have to ask something."

"S-sure."

"When... when you guys got kidnapped that night," Jake murmured. "That guy... tiger I think you said. The one that tried to... you know. He was much bigger than you guys, right?"

Confused, Tai nodded. "Yeah... way bigger than you even."

The teenager hung his head. "Shit. I'm sorry..."

"What?" Tai shifted on his lap. "About what?"

"I'm sorry." Jake sniffed. "I couldn't protect you guys at all. I was useless."

Tai's arms slipped from his grasp, and before he knew it, a small, tender paw was resting on his cheek. "They got you by surprise... and there were a bunch of them."

"You guys took down that big bastard while I got knocked out in a second." Jake opened his eyes to see a concerned young fox staring up at him.

"We were lucky..." Tai shook his head, sitting up. "He, um, underestimated us. If he'd wanted to, he could've killed us really easily." The kit's face became wry. "He pushed me with one paw, and I flew so far back and I fell down the stairs."

Jake smiled slightly. "I-I guess you're right..." He laughed. "It's just... I can't believe it. I feel like such a useless piece of crap. I should've protected you guys, not gotten... knocked out like a loser and you guys make your way back. You guys were heroes, and I'm just the idiot that got knocked out."

"We don't think that..."

"I don't know why you don't..." The teenager sighed. "Maybe I'm just being emo, whatever. I just feel like I should've been more useful."

Tai thought for a moment. He shrugged. "Maybe it just wasn't your turn."

"Huh?"

"I dunno." Tai frowned pensively. "I think Mike and I just got lucky, and now everyone thinks we're cool 'heroes'. But it's just because we got lucky."

Jake laughed. "Shit, you're a cynic," he muttered. "So heroes were just in the right place at the right time."

"Kinda."

The teenager smiled and gave the kit a sudden hug. "Thanks, Tai... you're right, I guess. It wasn't my time, fair enough."

Tai squirmed and happily cuddled up to the teenager. "You're smart and cool," he stated. "You'd've done even better if it was you who got taken and not me."

"Don't sell yourself short, kid." Jake chuckled. "I think you're pretty damn awesome yourself."

"I dunno..." Tai averted his gaze.

Jake briefly touched his nose to the kit's pink one in a display of sudden affection. For some reason, he felt he absolutely had to. "But I do."

They stared at one another for a long moment.

At long last, Tai got to his knees and laid his paws on Jake's shoulder. "Um, Jake?"

"Yeah?"

Tai bit his lip. "Wanna keep tickling me?" he asked in a wispy voice.

The teenager searched his younger friend's shy face. "You don't just want me to tickle you."

"No." Tai flushed deeply. "I wanna... you know. S-since I first met you. But we can just tickle if you like."

Jake took a tremulous breath, unable to break eye-contact with his charge. He didn't know what he was thinking, except perhaps that he knew he wasn't thinking at all. Didn't need to. On autopilot, he nodded.

"Y-you can tickle me like you did before," offered Tai, lightly fingering the waistband of his low-riding pajamas. Pushing the envelope. "L-like, when I'm not wearing anything. When I got out of the bath."

Jake took the kit's delicate wrists in his paws again, guiding them away from the slender hips. Swallowing audibly, he placed his own paws there. "Tai, are you sure?" he whispered.

"Y-yeah." Tai smiled slightly. "It's not a big deal. You'll see."

"Easy for you to say." Nonetheless though, Jake clutched the kit's pajamas and started to pull them down. It was impossible to tear his eyes away from what was being revealed inch by inch - Tai wore nothing beneath the cotton pants. In only a few seconds, Tai's most sensitive parts were exposed; but the kit kept his paws away and allowed Jake to continue.

At long last, Tai slipped out of them by shuffling forwards on his knees, taking the bundle of fabric and sweeping it negligently it to the floor. Jake almost fainted.

"S-stand up..." he said to the kit.

Tai obliged, eager. To his surprise, Jake lifted him in a simple cradle-grip, then sat down again with Tai lying backwards over his knee again, but this time he was comfortably in between the teenager's legs. One of Tai's arms was guided behind the alsatian, who simply sat against the sofa's back to pin it there while he continued to support Tai's neck in the crook of his arm. With that same arm, he took Tai's other wrist and held it up by the kit's head. With the other arm pinned behind him, Jake's grip of the slender limb was tight.

"Uh-oh..." Tai squeaked. He tried to pull the unpinned arm down, but Jake held it so fast he doubted the teen even realized Tai had tested his grip.

Jake glanced at the time on the large clock above the entertainment system and swallowed. "We... we got two hours before your dad is gonna drop Mike here..."

"Wh-what do you wanna do?" Tai tried to gulp, but his muzzle was dry - unlike his now regular fooling-around sessions with Mike, this was an entirely new frontier. He felt like he was back at the beginning again... now he was nude in the cradle-grip of a larger teenager, a position he never thought he'd find himself in. Yet he knew he could trust Jake. It took Mike and his father to truly teach Tai what trust was, now it was up to Tai to apply it; and the friendly, respectful alsatian teenager deserved his trust, he knew.

Besides, this was a frontier he wanted to explore so much. The contact, the affection... how safe he felt. This was the most wonderful thing in the world.

"I don't know..." Jake's voice was weak. Once more, he laid his free paw on the kit's chest... and dragged his fingers down the taut body. Promptly, Tai gave a gasp and squirmed, Jake's light touch leaving ticklish trails through his fur.

By now, Jake was floating on clouds. His feathery touch was as much an attempt to tickle the little fox kit as it was to caress him.

He just surrendered. Tai was openly seducing him, offering his lithe, tender body up for Jake to touch and explore, and it was working very, very well. "Oh, to hell with it..." he mumbled, starting to tickle a bit more intently.

So Tai burst out into giggles again, his eyes widening as those claws sought out his vulnerable armpit once more. "No, no!" he gasped, his broad smile displaying his little white incisors.

"Yes, yes!" countered Jake, moving down to the kit's belly now. "You asked for it!"

Tai twitched and squirmed, fighting to stay still and bear the torment he requested while Jake moved from armpit to armpit to that horribly touchy spot around about the floating ribs, and so on. Both of them laughed happily as the game went on.

"Nyaaah!" Tai was involuntarily wriggling his toes and trembling all over. However, Jake's slow-but-steady approach meant that five or more minutes passed easily, still without Tai getting short of breath.

Strangely enough, Jake was really, really good at this!

Chuckling to himself, the teen looked down at the twitching legs. "Hrm." His free paw stopped its merciless tickling, and Tai let his head flop in the teen's grip.

"Th-this is awesome!" Tai breathed.

The tickling paw touched him again, but this time it ran down the length of the kit's long leg until Jake gently took a hold of the little heel at the bottom. "Y-you've got nice legs." Jake blushed violently beneath his russet facial fur. "Nice everything, actually."

Tai gave a sheepish smile and wriggled his toes again. "You should tickle my paws too," he suggested.

"I will." Jake's paw drifted back up to the kit's knee and pushed it aside. "B-but I wanna see if you're ticklish here too."

He stared in amazement at the fleshy object he had fully revealed - though most of that disbelief was directed at himself. Obligingly, Tai separated his legs a little more, and Jake looked enquiringly, unsurely, at the boy's face. All he saw was an eager willingness; a smile. With that wordless consent, Jake did the one thing he swore he'd never do, and placed the palm of his paw on the pre-teen groin, feeling the gentle heat radiating upwards from the partially upright member. He brought his fingers together, once more torturing the kit with a feather-like touch.

"Gack!" Tai complained, stiffening slightly. "Oh, no!"

"Wh-what?"

"I-it tickles! Hee-hee-hee!"

Jake laughed in spite of himself, kneading and touching that warm, down-covered area so happily spread for him. "You got the giggles?" he demanded incredulously. "Mike touches you there all the time, and you've still got the giggles?!"

"You- you're doing it all tickly!" Tai cried out and winced, fighting to hold still. He felt himself getting stiffer down there as Jake's teasing touch continued.

His heart leapt. This was incredible! The first day he'd met Jake he'd imagined this, and it had finally come true.

"You're sure you want me to continue?" Jake's voice had a catch in it, almost as if some small part of him was begging Tai to say no, to revoke his consent and give him the strength to stop himself. No such luck; Tai nodded so enthusiastically he felt his head was going to topple from his shoulders. Jake swore to himself.

Tai suddenly shifted in his grip, turning into the teenager's body despite his restrained arms. "Hmmm..."

"What's wrong?"

The tawny boy smiled up at him. "Nothing..." He closed his eyes. "C-can we stay like this for awhile?"

"I guess... for how long?"

Tai shrugged as best he could in his position. "Until Mike gets here..." He giggled. "Then you can tie me up and keep tickling, okay?"

"I don't know, Tai..." Jake sighed, shifting his attentions all over the young cub's body, relishing the chance to touch it so intimately. "Doing stuff with Mike is a different thing."

Not really, Tai knew. But that was something he could explain later... when Mike was here.

He was far too comfortable right now.

Mike was yawning so hard, he never realized the car had come to a stop until his father had already gotten out of the vehicle and was knocking on his window.

Momentarily baffled, he stared out the window at his dad's amused face. "Oh!" he gasped, opening the locked door and clambering out. "Sorry, spaced out!"

Robert laughed and went around to the trunk. "You tired?"

"Yeah."

"Good." Robert pulled up the metal door and reached in for his son's duffle bag. "Make sure you sleep well tonight, okay?"

Mike nodded and stretched. "Gyaaagh!"

Together, they sauntered to the porch and skipped up the stairs to the white door. Robert knocked on the inlaid glass, absently passing the bag in his paw to Mike.

Mike took it and yawned yet again. His training session had been brutal, and honestly, he only had himself to blame for that. It was his idea to do the extra laps and push himself so hard. Though he had been out of practice, he'd done well... but not well enough.

Butterflies were doing complex aerial combat maneuvers in his stomach, but Mike knew he had to ignore them. They'd only return tomorrow, a few hours before the race, at ten times the intensity anyway. Nothing could stop them.

Really, it was fear... and he just had to deal with it. But that was okay. He'd done that before.

Eventually, Jake opened the door. Mike could've sworn his expression was, at first, sheepish, perhaps a little guilty, but he smiled and greeted them both.

"I'm not staying," Robert said, laying a paw on Mike's shoulder. "Just dropping Mike off, then I'm off for bed."

Jake chuckled. "Not staying for coffee or anything?"

"Nah." Robert shot the teenager a grin. "You guys are having a sleep-over. Don't need an old bugger like me intruding."

"Alright, cool." Jake stepped aside and Mike stumbled in, letting his head wobble about exaggeratedly.

The kit groaned. "I'll have one..."

His father just laughed. "No you won't. Not unless you want to be up all night and come last tomorrow."

Mike grinned at him. "Or maybe I'll just drink so much I'll win because I'm hyper."

"Trust me, doesn't work like that." Robert grinned. "Get some rest, Mike. You could use it. I wouldn't normally have you sleep over anywhere before an event, but..."

"I'll be fine." Mike's jaws apparently repelled one another like magnets as he yawned yet again. "I promise."

"It's not just for me, Mike." Robert gestured and his son dropped his bag, immediately coming over for a hug. "I want you to do it for yourself and be happy."

Mike never replied, just squeezed a little tighter.

"Alright, Mike." The grownup squeezed in return. "Have fun, and sleep early."

With that directive, Robert separated them and bid his farewell. Mike staggered dazedly into the big house and into the central foyer, with Jake concernedly taking up the rear.

With a happy smile, Mike spotted Tai in the living room, clad in just his pajama pants and intently focused on a video game. It was the first one he'd ever played - Tai had taken to it strongly and was now very proficient at it. In fact, he was very good at most of Mike's games.

When Tai noticed he had company, he gasped and dropped the controller, before bounding across the room. "Hey!" he greeted. "Guess what!"

"What?"

"I beat my old record on challenge mode!" Tai grinned, taking Mike's paw and leading him to the sofa. "Come see!"

Sitting his brother down on the sofa, Tai quickly scanned the room... and snared the barky-furred boy in a hug. Expecting it, Mike returned the embrace. They stole a quick kiss, breaking it deliberately a second after Jake had walked into the room and seen them.

Once again, Jake felt like his heart was replaced by a block of ice. "Christ!" the alsatian complained. But he had better sense that to press the issue, instead opting to head for the kitchen for a drink.

The boys giggled.

"Hey, let's have a bath!" insisted Mike. "I've gotta have one, big time."

Tai suddenly looked guilty. "I-I've already had one."

"Oh." Mike's ears drooped. He had been looking forward to some fooling around in the tub. "Darn."

Surreptitiously, Tai leaned towards those ears. "You have one!" He giggled. "Trust me."

"It's not as fun if you're not there..."

Tai gave a broad smile. "Trust me! We'll do stuff afterwards. Jake's mom and dad aren't back for hours!"

Nodding, Mike got to his feet. "Okay, whatever..." He groaned and started to pad towards the kitchen. "I dunno what you're up to, but I stink of chlorine still."

Wiping the smile off his face, Tai picked up the controller again. He had to approach this carefully. Needed to think of a way to broach the subject to Jake again.

He was still trying to formulate an attack strategy when Mike ambled into the bathroom holding a towel and Jake marched directly into the entertainment room, holding two glasses of cola.

"OK," he sighed. "What do you want?"

Tai blinked.

"Come on." Jake sat down beside the kit. "Why aren't you in there with him?"

"I, um, I've already had one." Tai's cheeks started to warm up.

"Yeah, but you've done this before. C'mon, what do you want to ask this time?"

Tai squirmed. "Um, I want to talk about... um..." He looked away. "C-can we both play with Mike when he gets out?"

Jake shook his head. "Tai, please, no. I told you, it's different... it's wrong."

"Because he got raped?"

"Yeah."

Suddenly, Tai shot the teenager a direct, pleading look. "But that was two years ago!"

"It's still wrong."

"You don't understand..." Tai sighed. "When we got kidnapped, I got tied up. I still want you to tie me up."

The teenager's eyes widened in shock. He hadn't considered that. He didn't know that!

"But that's different. You're not ad-abducting us. You don't wanna hurt us - that makes it different. We were playing."

Jake floundered, unsure what to say. However, the boy continued.

"It was a really bad thing that happened to him two years ago. But because of it, you won't play with him today." Tai paused, puzzling his way around wording his point. "S-so, you're making something that happened two years ago that he doesn't care about still matter because you won't play with him, even though it's different. It was two years ago, it shouldn't still be making him sad today."

A figurative boulder of understanding seemed to come crashing down from the sky upon Jake's head. "Oh, shit..." He stared incredulously at the tawny-furred pup. "Wow, thanks. You just made me feel like crap."

"Um. S-sorry." Tai drew in on himself. "Don't be mad at me. I just think you should help him. He wants to do the stuff he likes with someone he likes, like you or me; not be hurt or scared again. That's why he wanted to do stuff with me, and I liked it, and I wasn't ever raped."

Jake flopped back to the couch's cushioned backrest and stared listlessly at the television. That hurt. Tai probably didn't even understand how much that hurt to hear - effectively, he had just accused Jake of perpetuating, or worsening, the dreadful effects of the event two years ago; the very thing that actually drove Jake to tears that night when he heard about it, out of concern for his younger friend. Worse, it really made sense.

Holy shit.

"W-will you think about it? Please?"

The teenager gulped audibly. "I'll think about it..." He sniffed. "I-I dunno about tonight. Maybe..."

"You said you were gonna tickle him." Tai's ears perked. "You could do us both."

Jake stood. "J-just, uh, just keep playing for a bit, okay?" He started to walk to the stairway. "I'll be back later..."

Aghast, Tai watched as the teenager glumly padded up the stairs to his room, eyes downcast.

"What did I say!?"

Mike reclined in the bath and lifted up an armful of soapy bubbles, placing it on his chest. He took a big breath, allowing his buoyancy to float him to the top of the water.

He was too tired to even play with the toys that had been left here. Instead he amused himself by blowing the bubbles away, inch by inch. Lethargically, he picked up a toy dolphin and poked himself in the tummy with its nose. It felt kinda sore.

Anxiety had crept up again. What if he over-trained? He'd done that before. Sure, he made sure to warm up and down before and after the session, but he'd been in the pool for hours! When he wasn't in the pool, he made himself run - his father was worried, but Mike underplayed what he was doing.

Tomorrow was a big day. Mike hadn't competed in a regional before. He wanted to do his best, make his dad proud, but he had no idea what level of competition he was facing. Even the slightest injury was going to totally throw him off - he was competing three times. Breaststroke, freestyle and butterfly. Butterfly was the main focus of his practice today, and if he got a sore stomach or shoulder he was dead.

The tingling angst suddenly boiled over, and Mike groaned aloud, shaking his limbs in the water. "Uuunnnh!" he moaned, scrunching his eyes as if he was going to cry, covering his face with a forearm. "C'mon!"

The image of himself standing off to the side, wet and cold in his competition briefs, as other, more confident, experienced, better young swimmers who had practiced more diligently took the podium forced itself all unwelcome into his mind.

Mike just bit his lip. He was being silly. Sure, it was a step up in competition, and sure, he'd lost before - badly. It always sucked. He always ended up crying about it. But how much of a step up was it? It would be okay. It'd be alright to screw up a little at his first regional meet. He'd just have to work harder for next time.

Okay, this was getting real dumb. The kit sat forward and pulled the plug out, getting to his knees. As the soapy water gurgled away, he pulled himself upright with a little effort, weighed down by as he was by his sopping fur that seemed to be leaking gallons of water. He picked up the showerhead attachment and got to work properly cleaning out his fur.

He had to get out of here to play with Tai and Jake. For some reason, he was really freaking out about tomorrow's races.

In minutes, he was vigorously rubbing his freshly shampooed and conditioned fur down, working the towel's edge between his furry toes. Quickly, he snatched up his pajama bottoms and slipped into them - if Tai was going topless, Mike figured it'd be fair enough to do likewise.

Sighing, Mike tugged open the door and walked out, stretching.

Bare-pawed, he walked down the corridor. Tai stood and walked over, his expression concerned.

"Whassup?" Mike enquired, cocking an ear.

"I think I upset Jake..." The tawny kit looked distressed. "I-I..."

"Why?"

Tai averted his eyes. "I... Um, never mind." He gestured at the couch with his head.

Shrugging, Mike laid an arm affectionately around the kit's skinny shoulders, guiding him back to the den. "He'll be fine. Jake totally has the hots for you."

"I'm worried." Tai hopped onto the comfortable leather, kneeling upright. Mike did likewise. "Are you sure he'll be alright?"

Before Mike could reply, there was a quiet cough from the direction of the stairway.

Both kits looked over, cocking their heads inquisitively.

Jake grinned and dropped a large camping bag on the ground. "Hey guys." He bent over and removed a neat coil of thin, blue rope from the synthetic bag.

Mike peered curiously at him. "What's that for?"

The alsatian laughed sheepishly. "Well, was just wondering if you wanted to play a game. I think Tai'll like this one."

"What game?" Mike looked from him to the stunned, but pleased-looking face of his brother.

"Well... you'll see." A shy smile crept onto Jake's face. "Tai can demonstrate. You're still as ticklish as I remember, right? I mean, we can do other stuff if not."

Mike's eyes widened.

The next day...

The echoing noise in the indoor pool was hurting his ears, and Tai still wasn't too comfortable with the smell. At least he wasn't gagging anymore, but he found himself taking much shallower breaths than usual. This wasn't the same pool he usually went to with Mike; no, this one stunk even more.

Quite emphatically, he preferred outdoor pools - they barely even had a smell by comparison. The only thing to recommend indoor pools was that the warmth was a blessing - having been fooling around in the pool with Mike and some of the others to warm up, Tai had to sit on his butt and watch all the events in just his swimming briefs. Outside, that'd have been horrible, but in the pool area it was balmy enough for him to forgo even laying a towel over his shoulders.

However, they weren't going to be there for much longer. Mike was padding up through the bleachers towards his brother and father, a dejected look on his face. Tai found it somewhat inappropriate, considering he had a pair of medals, silver and bronze, around the matted fur of his sodden neck.

Smiling, Robert laid out a beach towel on the seat between him and Tai. Mike groaned and sat down heavily on it.

"Don't be like that," Robert chortled. "You did fantastic."

Mike hung his head. "I stunk."

"You came fifth on your worst event. Five others came after you - you did fine." Robert lifted another towel and offered it to his son, who just stared at the floor. "Come on, Mike. Don't take it so seriously, it was freakin' butterfly. One event. You'll do better next time."

Mike sighed and took the towel at last, using it to dry his face. "Yeah." He paused. "Freakin' otters."

Robert just shrugged. The kit was upset, but he'd actually done extremely well - he'd realize that soon and snap out of it. Today alone he'd seen a dozen other young athletes verging on tears or worse. Mike's self-disappointment was relatively mild, which was good. "Come on, little jock. You feel the need to hang around much longer?"

With a curt shake of the head, Mike got to his feet again. "We'll go get changed." He still sounded depressed. "Coming, Tai?"

The skinny boy stood and grabbed his duffel bag. "Yep."

Neither kit spoke as they walked down the bleachers, surrounded by parents manically cheering as the next set of young swimmers took the starting blocks. When they reached the bottom, only a few feet from the pool, Tai looked around in confusion.

"Where are the changing rooms again?" he asked.

Mike just nodded down the length of the pool and continued on, his shoulders in a slump.

This was bad. Tai had never seen the bigger boy like this, but he did know how it felt. He'd been like that many times before, so as far as he knew, nothing Tai could say would help. It would just take some time for Mike to come out of it.

Together yet in silence, their wet paws squidging delightfully on the slimy, synthetic floor, they made their way to the changing rooms. It was surprisingly quiet in there, only a handful of others in the large, echoing room, and the duo put their bags on the benches and went for the showers.

"Together?" whispered Mike. Tai nodded, and they both quickly slipped into a cubicle before anyone noticed them.

As the jet of water started to come down, Tai noticed his older brother was staring at the floor. An idea came to him, and he tugged down his green swimming briefs, stepping out of them. He stepped up to Mike and promptly deposited them on the brown furred head, settling the garment so Mike's ears were jutting out from the leg-holes.

Nude, he grinned at the older boy.

"What are you doing?" Mike asked, unable to hold back a giggle.

Tai shrugged. "It's a hat. Looks good on you!"

Smiling in spite of himself, Mike slipped his fingers into the waistline of his black and blue briefs and took them off as well. In a second, he nestled the bundle of slick fabric atop Tai's head. "It suits you better!"

They both started to laugh, each fox boy's ears perking ridiculously out of the legs of the other's briefs.

"I think it's just because it's not covering up the nice parts anymore," posited Mike with a meaningful glance downwards. Tai blushed and nodded. "Last night was so cool. We've got to go to Jake's more often."

Tai snickered. "We can buy some rope!" he suggested. "So we can play that way at home."

"Sure, but I can't tie rope as well as Jake."

"I'll show you! I know how to do some."

Mike shuffled slightly. "Oh. Okay. Um, you should do it to me as well."

The tawny kit nodded. "Okay! But how are we gonna get some rope?"

"I dunno." Mike stepped under the jet of water. "Maybe a camping store? We can get dad to take us one day."

"Okay." Tai decided to give his older brother a hug. He pressed his body to Mike's and sighed happily. "You're awesome."

Mike countered with a strong embrace of his own. "I know."

"I've never won a medal before..."

Suddenly, Mike laughed. "Believe me..." He separated them and touched his nose to Tai's. "You're gonna...! I'll make sure of it."

The car was parked at the side of the quiet street and the three foxes got out, adjusting their thick jackets.

Tai took a deep breath, literally inhaling the dust-like snow from the air. "Hmmm." It smelled so much better in the snow and rain here - he was growing to appreciate Manhattan, but frankly, the scent of pollution was rife and potent everywhere. Somehow, it was like the snow was burying the smell. Smothering it. Tai approved quite heartily.

It was incredible to see the intimidating skyscrapers of New York, the unrelenting concrete and metal, coated in cold snow. Seeing the imposing city through the lens of a blizzard, it was twice as majestic. Twice as beautiful. Tai had to admit he liked it, especially the view from the top of their apartment building.

"Never been here before," observed Mike, tucking his medals into the jacket.

Tai skipped across the oddly quiet street, his boots making only a gentle rustling sound in the snow. "It's pretty neat!"

Robert shrugged and followed along. "Well, so long as they have the basics..." The adult frowned. "Smaller stores are usually more expensive though, so we'll see."

Tai tugged open the jangling door of the first store he'd visited in New York, standing off to the side and gesturing grandiosely for his family to go first.

"Why, thank you good sir!" joshed Mike with a florid bow as he passed.

When they were all inside, they split into two parties to explore the small store. The kits went one way, while Robert went another.

It was exactly as Tai remembered it. It still reminded him of a store he used to shop at back in Alaska, and, clad in his warmest clothing this snowy day, the similarities were even more striking at the moment.

With Mike at his side, scanning the shelves with mild interest, they rounded a small display made of instant soup packets. Someone was kneeling by it, apparently putting the finishing touches on the intricately constructed castle-like formation of cardboard.

Tai did a double take before he recognized the fur. With a loud gasp, he leapt backwards, nearly tripping Mike in the process.

"Whoa, hey!!" complained the older kit. "Whassamatter with you?"

Tai just gawped at the skunk, who was returning the stare with equally stunned eyes.

"Y-you?!" exclaimed the astonished mustelid.

Shaking slightly as adrenaline, and apparently liquid nitrogen also, suddenly coursed through his body, Tai backed up until he knocked several bags of candy to the floor from their perch on the shelving.

"Wait!" The skunk raised both paws and retreated as well. "Hold on, man! I'm not gonna hurt you."

Mike looked from his younger brother's terrified face to the concerned teen's. "What's goin' on here?" he demanded, slipping a paw into his pocket. He took hold of a cylindrical, plastic container in there.

"What's wrong here?" Robert had suddenly appeared behind the teenager, who whirled around and gave a sound like a trapped wild animal.

"He's one of Darron's friends!" hissed Tai.

Robert frowned. "Oh?"

"No!" The teenager shook his head firmly. "I got nothing to do with that jackass no more."

The plaid tartan curtain at behind the counter was thrust aside and a middle-aged badger came storming out. "What the hell's goin' on-?" He trailed off when he spotted a tawny kit with a horrified expression. "Oh shit." The others looked over at him as he sighed and leaned on the counter. "I knew this was gonna happen."

Tai swallowed. "What's going on?"

The badger grinned. "It's alright, kid." He nodded at the skunk. "Go on, Wayle. Let 'em know. Now's your chance."

Wayle backed off nervously. "Uh, l-look, after what happened..." He shot a guilty look at Tai. "I left school and Bradley gave me a job. I-I haven't seen that asshole wolf in months! I don't do any of that shit anymore."

"So you only knew him at school?" asked Robert, folding his arms.

Confused, Wayle turned to him. "School? Man, nobody knew him out of school. Nobody knew where he lived. He just fucked around at school and on the streets."

The badger, Bradley, straightened up. "I found out a little more about Wayle's, uh, circumstances. I knew him from around the place; neighborhood kid, got himself into some trouble before, but never anything like what that Darron kid was into."

"You have no idea." Mike frowned.

Wayle nodded, oddly intimidated by the adult fox especially... and he knew that the brown furred kit wasn't reaching into his pocket for candy, either. "He, uh... asked me if I wanted to come work for him. It was either that or the Marines, man - and I don't think I can handle that. I had to get my life together." He sighed and shrugged. "Look, okay? I can't say sorry enough, alright? I couldn't believe the things Darron had me doin', and I always wanted to apologize." There was a pause. "S-so yeah. Sorry."

Bradley coughed. "Wayle. Nearly four. Gotta get ready."

The skunk's shoulders drooped and his large tail completely sagged. "Yeah. Right, uh... I, uh, I gotta go. Got community service. Four hours of cleaning and taking out trash at the mall."

After a slight hesitation, Robert stepped aside and let Wayle walk by. But the skunk stopped just before the door.

"Hey, Brad?" he called.

The shopkeeper grunted.

"Whatever they get, man, can they get it off my pay?" The skunk shrugged. "I-I dunno if you'll do that, but..."

"Are you sure that's what you want?" The grouchy-faced badger's eyes widened.

"Yeah, man. Right, uh... I gotta go, they're gonna bust my ass if I'm late again." With that, Wayle turned and pushed the door open. He stepped out to the street as a flurry of snow whirled in to replace him.

But Tai leapt forward and darted around Robert like lightning. "Wait!" the kit cried, giving chase. He moved so quickly, he was outside before the heavy door could close.

The snow on the sidewalk past the overpass was soft and deep, and it was hard to keep up with the long-legged skunk. "Wait!" Tai called again.

Reluctantly, Wayle stopped and turned. "What's up?" he asked dully, his voice almost drowned out by the sound of several cars going over the overpass.

"D-don't you need that money?" The kit stopped quite some distance away. Close enough to converse, but far enough away to be away from grabbing distance.

Wayle blinked. "Nah..." He scuffed some snow away. "Why d'ya ask?"

"You're poor." Tai flushed a little. "Like me. Or, um, I was. I can tell."

The skunk shrugged. "Lots of peeps are." He smiled nervously. "Don't worry, kid. Go on. I owe you a lot more than a bag of groceries. I-I gotta go."

"But you need the money!"

"I need to do this even more." Wayle started to walk away, backwards. "Hey, uh, I'll see you around, right?"

Tai swallowed, feeling slightly depressed all of a sudden. "S-sure... you work at that store now, right?"

"Yeah." Wayle shot him an odd gesture with his paw. "Peace, kid. Stop by some time." He turned and started to walk away.

Tai stood there watching the skunk, the same one who chased him for what seemed to be his life only a few months ago, disappear into the hazy snow. At last, he sighed, expelling a thick mist that clouded his vision. After letting it dissipate, watching the receding figure through the swirling cloud, the kit started to head back to the store.

When he got back inside, he shook himself to get the fine snow off his jacket on the inside mat, then proceeded to walk up to the counter from where three very confused pairs of eyes were watching him. He barely noticed, instead absently working the snow from his hood.

"Are you alright, Tai?" Robert asked. "I saw you talking to him in the street."

"Huh?" The kit blinked, refocusing his eyes. "Y-yeah. It was nothing."

Robert stared at the kit for a moment. Something happened out there, something very profound, and he doubted he'd ever figure out what.

Like mother, like son...

Perhaps now wasn't the time to worry about it. "Okay." Ushering Mike ahead of him, Robert headed for the aisles. "Come on guys. There's one last store we've got to hit up after this one, so let's get moving."

"Another store?" Mike looked up quizzically. "What one?"

Robert laughed. "Well, Tai's demonstration of experience at getting snow off himself just reminded me of something." He grinned at both kits. "I've got a camping trip lined up for us in about two weeks. We're gonna drop into the outdoor store at the mall on the way back."

There was a dumbfounded pause... then Tai and Mike shared a glance.

"Fantastic!" exclaimed Mike, a mischievous grin sneaking onto his face.

Someone was talking to him, but Tai only heard a strange murmur in his ear. He wasn't paying attention to the adult kneeling in front of him in the den, adjusting the collar of his new black shirt. Normally, he'd do it himself, but at the moment he didn't feel like moving, speaking... or anything really.

"There we go," Robert was saying, standing upright again. He waited for a reply, but got none. "Tai, are you alright?"

The kit blinked owlishly. "Yeah."

Groaning, Robert knelt again. "I know it's not going to be easy for you." He laid his paws on the kit's shoulders. "But you should say goodbye."

"Too late." Tai stared at the carpet. "She won't hear me now."

Robert smiled. "You never know, Tai. She might hear you from heaven."

The kit nodded sadly.

"Okay. Are you ready?"

"I guess so." Tai quickly checked his pockets and walked over to his jacket. He hesitated before finally slipping the fashionable object around his shoulders.

With some help from Mike and his friends, Tai's wardrobe had significantly expanded. A single glance in the mirror brought butterflies to his stomach - it was so strange to see himself not looking... poor. Like it was a stranger in the mirror. He was still as small as ever, but at least he looked a little better. A little... cooler.

But today, he wasn't interested in boys' fashion.

Mike was watching him from the other side of the room, his expression sad and understanding. Tai had never been to a formal funeral before, not even his dad's. He wasn't even sure there was one for his dad. But Mike had, and he knew what the younger kit was feeling.

Like a shroud of lifeless iron had been draped over him.

The funeral had been delayed for so long, Eraline's body was already cremated. Though the notion brought Tai to tears, he was grateful for it. Robert had promised to ensure his fears never came true - that his mom wouldn't become food for disgusting insects and disease. That couldn't happen now.

So it was mostly just a formality. Tai was going to say goodbye to a jar full of ashes. It was too late.

Staring out the window, Tai brought a finger to his muzzle and pushed on a tooth absently. It wobbled, like he thought it would.

"Losing a tooth?" enquired Robert, putting his own jacket on.

Tai nodded. "It got wobbly last night."

He didn't feel the need to point out it wasn't his own tongue that detected that. Mike stifled a giggle half-way through by pretending to cough, but he still got a confused look from his father.

That gave Tai reason to smile at least.

"Come on, guys," sighed the grownup. "Let's get moving."

The car ride was more than uneventful. Tai spaced out, staring out the window at the busy streets. They passed hundreds of furs, all dejectedly wandering the streets, wrapped tight in their winter clothing. Though snow still drifted down from the heavens, a thick fog was clouding the city; from the smoke and steam the myriad cars all spewed, Tai didn't bother guessing where it was coming from.

He laid his head on the window, not really thinking. All he felt was an odd deadness; an empty detachment that seemed to weigh him down. Today was just a task, and he only had to live through it. He didn't have to feel anything. He didn't want to feel anything.

They headed to some small, relatively non-descript building in a quiet part of the city. On the outside, it was a simple brick building of a single storey. Tai didn't even see a sign, anything to indicate that the building was a place where the dead were given their final farewell by their loved ones.

Beyond the double wooden doors that served as the entrance was the empty foyer. Carpeted floors, polished wooden surfaces and wallpaper in a warm hue... Tai thought it was like a living room in an old fur's home. The heating had been turned up, and his face started to prickle and flush under his fur.

"It's stuffy in here," observed Mike, his voice low.

Tai just nodded his agreement.

"Come on, guys." Robert gestured at another heavy wooden door. "We'll only be here as long as Tai wants. Come on."

The room beyond was nearly empty; a sorry fact made plain by the sheer size of the room, and the rows of pews that sat facing forwards. On a dais at the far end of the room, there was a coffin settled on a small bier. An ornate window was above, allowing the weak, choked sunlight into the room to fall upon the chestnut wooden box as a wide shaft of light.

White flowers had been strewn about the coffin, but it was otherwise unadorned. Whereas the previous room was like a homey living room, this was more like a small church, albeit one without any clearly apparent religious symbols.

A single urn of the whitest marble sat upon the coffin's closed lid.

Tai found it hard to move beyond the entrance, and Robert had to come back for him. All together, they took a seat towards the front.

"I-is there gonna be a speech or anything?" Tai asked, scanning the room. There were very few others in there; none of them were recognizable to him. He doubted any of them even knew his mother - most likely, they were only there to get in out of the cold for awhile.

"No." Robert ruffled the kit's long head-fur. "Not unless you want to give one."

"No thanks." Tai closed his eyes. He wasn't even sure why they were here. Robert had said it was to say goodbye, but what was the point if his mom was already gone? There was so much that he wanted to say to his mother; so much he wanted to repair. He loved her, but wasn't sure she loved him in return - not knowing the truth about that was painful, like a splinter in his heart.

Why had she been so mean to him? Not there for him? He'd never know now. 'Goodbye' was the last thing he needed to say to her, but it was too late even for that.

Before he could stop it, a broken sob escaped his throat. Hot tears started to pool in his eyes.

"Tai?" he heard Mike ask.

Despite his best efforts, Tai started to cry. He felt Mike's arm go around his shoulders but the tawny kit simply slouched on the pew, cradling his head weakly.

"I-I knew this would happen!" Tai sniffled, trying to wipe his eyes.

"It's okay," cooed Mike, shifting closer and giving Tai's shoulders a reassuring squeeze. "Maybe it should happen."

Tai shook his head. "I don't even know if she loved me!" he complained. "She never cared. She was always busy - but it was my fault! I'm so stupid; I knew she was busy. Now I'll never know!"

"There's no way your mom didn't love you." Mike laid his chin on the suddenly distraught kit's head.

"I'll never know." Tai tried to hold his breath. He could scarcely manage a second. "It's not fair."

Mike said nothing. He simply held the smaller boy while he cried. For several minutes, Tai sobbed wordlessly; the distressed kit just sitting there, consumed by a morose, tearful reverie.

Quiet, solemn music piped from speakers hidden about the room. Tai wished it would stop - it wasn't helping.

Somewhere at the back of his mind, he was amazed. So much had happened and he felt much happier now than ever before, and yet he still had so many tears to shed over his mom. Behind every memory of her snubbing him, coldly dismissing him or outright hurting him with thoughtless words, there were vague, hidden memories of her gentle touch; of days long ago where she was always there for him.

That was the problem. What had changed?

In the car, Tai had thought he'd only be able to stay there for several minutes at best. Perhaps longer if there was a speech or ceremony or whatever they did. But instead he found himself slouching miserably in his chair, eyes closed tight as the minutes crawled by. Not so much thinking, or even remembering, as feeling. Just processing his emotions.

As much as he loved Mike and Robert, and as much as he was glad they were going to be his family from now on, it made him feel so heavy and weak just realizing that he was now, in a way, more alone than ever. Nobody related to him was alive anymore - he was the last of his real family.

A paw gently took hold of his. He recognized it as Mike's. A moment later, there was movement around him and a much larger, warmer arm went around his shoulder and Mike's, drawing them together.

Gladly, Tai cuddled into Robert's body as the adult pulled both he and Mike into a reassuring side-on embrace. Fiercely, he gripped his new brother's paw.

Dozens of minutes passed, with none of the foxes making so much as a sound. In time, Tai squirmed away slightly and looked up at his father.

"Can I go outside?" he whispered. "Just for a little while."

Robert nodded. "Go on."

Tai extricated himself and stood. He tugged on Mike's paw. "Come with me, please?"

"Okay."

The two kits ambled to the door, but Tai hesitated, casting a guilty glance back at the coffin at the far end.

Mike shot him a rueful smile. "Don't worry," he said quietly. "She won't mind."

They pushed the door aside and made their way back to the cozy foyer. Tai picked a leather sofa at random and sat on it.

"What's wrong?" Mike enquired, sitting next to his brother. His expression was mildly concerned.

The tawny kit just looked at his knees, rubbing them absently through his jeans. "Nothing. Just wanted to sit out here."

"Sounds good to me."

"I'm gonna go back," Tai said firmly. "Just not yet."

"It's okay."

Promptly, Tai cuddled up to his brother again, clutching at his jacket. "Just stay with me for a minute?"

"No problem."

Robert lightly touched a paw to the wooden casket, silently saying his final goodbyes. Yes, Eraline wasn't in there strictly speaking, but that didn't seem to matter. Saying goodbye, or anything really, to a deceased person wasn't logical to begin with...

But Robert still felt it needed to be done.

Something else needed to be done also, and, after wiping his nose dry, he turned back to the pews and strode towards one of the only others in the empty room.

The old bruin shot him a wry smile as Robert took a seat beside him. "Was beginning to wonder if you'd ignore me entirely."

"That wasn't my intention." Robert shrugged. "I didn't want Mike to get suspicious; he'd probably recognize you."

"That's fair enough."

"Come to fill me in on the aftermath?"

Mitchell nodded. "More or less. You already have most of the details."

"Nonetheless, I appreciate you coming. Eraline would too."

"It was the least I could do."

"I'm thankful you reconsidered your position on Tai's adoption," Robert said tactfully. "I don't think he'd be able to handle being taken away, emotionally speaking. What made you change your mind?"

"Seeing you wouldn't change yours." The bear gave a smoky laugh. "Besides, it seems you're going to be safe."

Robert raised an eyebrow. "Now that's the important thing. What do we know?"

"Not too much, but the operation on the dock has shut down the syndicate's operations in New York as far as we can tell. Most of the surviving smugglers weren't even aware who those boys were, or even why they had been kidnapped. From the FBI's sources as well as our own, it doesn't seem like the syndicate understands what happened that night."

"So, I was right. Darron acted alone."

A sober nod. "Yes. As before when it seemed Nate acted alone. They've got no reason to think you or your family had anything to do with the incident at the docks. They've got more important things to do than to target you, assuming anyone has information on you."

"That's still very shaky." Robert sighed and wrung his paws. "How certain are you?"

"As certain as we can be."

The fox shook his head. "I'm gonna have to think about this..."

"We'll protect you, of course." Though Robert wasn't sure, he thought the glance Mitchell shot the ornamental coffin was somewhat guilty. "As we should've her."

Robert nodded. "It wasn't anyone's fault."

"She'll have her own star down south. As will Thomas. I will do everything I can to make sure of that. Speaking of, her final message has been released. It's in your email inbox. Your work email, that is."

Robert pensively rubbed at his eyes. "Alright. I'm not sure what to do about this... This is where Mike grew up; if I took him away from his friends, his clubs and everything he knows..."

"I don't know if it's necessary, Robert. We can't see any way for the rest of the syndicate to even know your involvement."

"Still, I think I'll take precautions." The vulpine frowned to himself. "I needn't be overbearing or anything. Don't see any need to restrict the boys any more than I do. No, I think I'll do the opposite: equip them to better protect themselves."

"How do you plan to do that, out of curiosity?" Mitchell raised an eyebrow.

Grinning, Robert just gave a shrug. "I'm already violating several impractical laws - all things considered, I think Mike's desire to own a pepper-spray canister is hardly unreasonable." He paused. "That said, maybe some training would be more useful. You wouldn't happen to know anyone who could throw together a training package for them, could you? Considering what they've already gone through..."

"Oh, so you'd like one of my staff to put together a SERE training seminar for the prepubescent field agent?" Mitchell gave a peculiar half-smile. "It's never too early to start their torture-resistance training."

"Well." Suddenly, Robert had to chuckle. "No. Not exactly, sir. It doesn't have to go quite so far. More just some of the more useful field-craft skills; can't deny, for example, that lock-picking would've been of use to them at the docks. Tai's an outdoorsy boy anyway, and his parents had already started to give him some form of survival training. He'll enjoy those elements especially."

"That's the reason for the camping trip then?"

"Only in part. It should also make for an interesting couple of days off for us all." The fox shrugged. "I can understand if it is a ludicrous request."

Mitchell shook his head. "Not at all. We somewhat have such programs; it would make good sense to modify them for agents who are also parents to give their children an edge in the event of danger. It would take some time to work out a program that wouldn't raise suspicion, including the child's, and it might be hard to float past the accountants who'll say that it'd be pointless to teach them how to survive if their parents were exposed."

"'They're dead anyway in that case, so why bother'?" Robert rolled his eyes in contempt. "If we're going to endanger our children, as well as our lives, for our country, then we should at least enable our children as best we can. It's that simple. Well, all you'd have to do is hand me the manuals - I have no need to dance around the issue with these two; and I'm a home-schooling parent myself, and a teacher. Indirect teaching techniques are probably suited to these things without being obvious anyway." He shot his superior a grin. "It's perfect. Camping skills, picking locks... they're practically games already."

The bruin looked thoughtful. "Yes, I see your point. You wouldn't consider helping out on this, perhaps?" He raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps yourself, a few field agents and maybe a few others. Maybe psychologists or something. You could put this training together yourselves; for your own children, the unadulterated original version. For others, those unaware of their parents' employment, or spouses, a more subdued version."

Opening his muzzle to reply, Robert only got a syllable out before he stopped. Then frowned. "Actually, why not?" he assented. "It's not like I have to write dissertations all the time. This would make a good change, to do something useful."

"So, I take it you're not resigning just yet?"

Robert closed his eyes. "I gave it some thought - I owe it to these boys, they deserve a safer life and some parental honesty. But the truth is, it's too late. Cutting loose would just be more dangerous in the long run." He smirked. "So, no. I think I'll continue to serve my adopted country - the CIA is still useful to me."

"Oh, Robert." Mitchell hung his head. "After all these years, now you choose to think like a field officer."

"Maybe I'll get drunk later and try to consider that a compliment."

There was a thump, and the door at the entrance started to move - slowly. Robert turned and just managed to make out that it was Tai, struggling to push the heavy wood aside. The long-haired kit slipped back into the room, followed closely by Mike, who had only slightly better luck with the door.

However, they didn't head for, or even look at, their father. In the center of the aisle defined by the rows of oaken pews, they briefly stopped to confer. Robert perked his ears, straining to hear, but he couldn't discern a word. Eventually, Tai took a few steps down the aisle, but then he hesitated.

"Go on, it's okay," Robert heard his eldest son say.

Reluctant, Tai gave a half-hearted nod and started to walk over to the coffin.

He stopped scarcely a step away from it and just stared. Some moments later, he laid a hesitant paw upon the wooden surface. His eyes were set on the ornate urn atop it; clearly aware that it was that container that housed his mother's remains.

Robert would've eaten his arm just to know what was going through the boy's head at that moment. Like Robert had done, he was trying to say his last farewell.

In the aisle, Mike just watched his brother with attentive concern, waiting for him to finish.

From alongside him, Robert heard his boss mutter something. "Sorry?" Robert blinked and turned back to the bruin.

Who just smiled. "I just said that your boys have a rather peculiar relationship."

"Oh, yeah." Robert scratched his muzzle pensively. "Do you know what I think? I think that in the middle of all this death and intrigue, all these so called adult-problems, a totally different story was unfolding; and I completely missed it at first. We all did."

Mitchell blinked. "What sort of story?"

"I might be wrong..." Robert frowned. "But a love story, I think. Sort of. Those two had no idea what horrible circumstances led to them even meeting in the first place; and likewise, we had no idea what was going on right under our noses. Maybe that was a good thing. God knows what kind of damage we would've done if we'd meddled."

"How do you mean?" The bruin was curiously observing the kits as well now.

Robert gave a shrug. "Those boys have gone through things I'll probably never know about; they've got their own issues, and just because they're young doesn't mean their troubles weren't just as real as mine. In some ways, those boys have seen and done more than I have."

Surprisingly, Mitchell chuckled. "Everyone has their own tale to tell; their own story. Their life. Some lives are more boring than others; I can testify to that."

"And maybe they needed one another to get through theirs. Alright." Robert stood slowly. "I think Tai's almost done. It's time for us to leave. Thanks once again - I'll be coming in soon. I've got marking to do now."

"Are you concerned at all about this... love story?" Mitchell's voice was curious.

"Not at all, I think it's something they both need. It's a wonderful thing. I've never seen Mike so happy."

"Not concerned that they might be...?"

Robert laughed, shaking his head. "No," he said. "After all, you said it." He slipped an arm into his heavy coat.

"I did? What did I say?"

"It's their lives."

It was impossible.

There was no way he could do it.

"Urgghhh..." groaned Robert, covering his face with a paw.

Why did he have to pick Literature? If he'd become a Law professor, the typical moron would've had no chance at getting into his classes. No, then he'd just have to worry about the rich morons.

"How do you get into college without being able to differentiate between 'your' and 'you're'?" the fox blithely asked his monitor, imagining the vapid face of the early-twenty-something leopardess he knew sat towards the back of every one of his lectures to play with her cell phone. "How do you even get into college when my sons had this down before they had two digits to their age - and one of them was bloody publicly schooled? Hm?"

Oh, it was hopeless. Some high school teachers had let this young lady slip right through without a grasp of fourth-grade English, and now he was expected to catch her up in first year Literature. The sad thing is, as far as Robert was concerned, it wasn't her fault.

At worst, schooling had stripped her of her interest in learning. At best, she wasn't suited to further education, but had the 'necessity' of a bachelor's degree pounded into her vacuous skull. Either way, he was bloody stuck with the mess now.

Hell, she was a very pretty young thing; seemed to take pride in her head-fur and such. A good stylist course at the local community college could give this girl a better career than Robert's.

"Oh, forget this for now." Robert stood up, rolling his chair away with the backs of his knees. Clicking off the monitor, he made for the living room.

A funeral was enough depression for the day.

The boys were actually in the den, sitting together in the corner of the couch and sharing a single handheld game-thing, utilizing the warm light from the free-standing lamp by the couch's side. Robert had long stopped paying attention, honestly. It wasn't that he had anything against video games, exactly, but he just didn't see much point in them. As far as he could tell, his eldest son didn't either; he just sort of had them around for when he was bored.

On the other paw, Tai seemed to enjoy them. Though still an active young boy, Tai was very interested in games.

Everybody needs a hobby or three, Robert supposed.

"How's it goin', guys?" he asked.

They didn't look up. "Good," replied Mike, slipping an arm around Tai's shoulder to more easily hold the plastic object in front of them both. "Just showing Tai another game."

"Alright." Robert glanced at the tawny kit. He seemed alright. Not too depressed. "I'm gonna make some dinner. Is there anything you're interested in for tonight?"

"I dunno... uh, have we got any macaroni?"

"Yep. So, macaroni and cheese. How about some chicken in there too?"

Mike looked up and beamed. "Sounds awesome to me!"

Robert grinned. "So, Tai? Is that acceptable?"

The tawny kit hesitated. "Y-yeah."

"Alright." Robert frowned. "Are you okay?"

Tai nodded, absently snuggling into Mike's body. It made Robert grin wryly.

Having been a boy himself, and being an athletic one inclined to joining soccer teams and such, he understood that boys could be surprisingly affectionate to one another. It wasn't until they got a little older that they started treating one another like lepers. Random group hugs and such physical closeness were surprisingly common.

But it had been clear for quite some time that his two sons had gone beyond that. Though he wasn't sure how far beyond he still could tell. Perhaps they thought he hadn't noticed, or merely tried to keep up the pretence just in case, but Robert wasn't blind.

Because he wasn't blind, he could also tell something had gone abruptly wrong. Tai's ears drooped slightly, and he had lowered his eyes sadly.

"Mom never asked me what I wanted," the nine-year-old explained gloomily. "If she bothered to feed me in the first place."

Robert nodded. "She didn't have much she could feed you with, Tai," he explained. "Don't be upset."

"It wasn't just that." Tai swallowed. "You're a better parent than her. She wasn't a good mom."

Fully aware the others were staring at him, Tai just looked down at his sock-covered feet.

Finally, he had to admit it. He had made excuses for his mom for years now, almost as long as he could remember clearly. Always busy, always cold, always dismissive. It wasn't always his fault. Yes, she was busy, but sometimes she seemed to almost hate him.

"She didn't love me at all." Tai sniffed. "Only when she wanted to."

Wiping his own nose, Robert smiled slightly. "Come on, Tai," he said gently. "Your mom did love you. She just sucked at showing it - she didn't know how to show her love to you."

The tawny kit's ears drooped slightly. "I don't think so."

Robert watched the depressed boy for a moment.

It was time, he supposed. He made the decision.

"Yeah, alright," mumbled the grownup. "I'll put the dinner on. Then I have something to show you, Tai." He stepped towards the kitchen, then stopped. "No. Let's do that the other way around."

Tai watched him curiously.

"Tai, come with me for a minute?" Robert sighed, nodding in the direction he had just come from.

"Um, okay." Tai slipped out from under his brother's arm and stood. Biting a lip gently, he padded towards the office door.

Mike sat up, but his father shook his head.

"Sorry Mike. This is private." He smiled slightly. "Tai should see this alone."

Bemused and curious, Tai followed the tall adult into the study. Robert went directly to his computer and sat in his comfortable leather chair. He typed a few things on the keyboard, and Tai politely averted his eyes from the monitor. He held his paws together behind his back.

But Robert suddenly turned, spinning the chair around to face the kit.

"Tai..." he began. Then he sighed. "Listen. I wasn't sure when to let you see this. Part of me thinks that today isn't appropriate for this. The rest of me, though, is telling me that you deserve to know the truth already."

"Truth?" Tai felt his stomach upend for some reason. "What about?"

Robert sniffed and wiped an eye that had suddenly become wet. "You'll see. This might hurt for you to see, but answers are better than uncertainty."

"What is it, dad?"

That earned him an affectionate smile. "Tai... your mom recorded something for you in case she ever died. She had a lot to tell you; a lot to get off her chest, if you know what that means. Some of it isn't very nice, but neither of you seemed to understand each other." Robert hesitated. "Your mom died, and she won't ever understand you, Tai. But she knew that could happen, and she made this video so that if she did... go away, one day, you would be able to maybe understand why she did the things she did. Why she behaved the way she did. If nothing else, maybe you'll be able to understand her."

Already, Tai was baffled. "What do you mean?"

"Watch, you'll see." Robert clicked with his computer's mouse, but he paused. "Tai. I wanted to speak to you alone about this, then leave you to watch it. But this isn't going to be easy for you. If you want me to stay, or to go and get Mike, I can; but this is private, and I thought you might want to process it yourself. But we'll both be there for you afterwards."

"I-I'll be okay," Tai said, though he was starting to feel apprehensive.

Robert clicked once more with the mouse and stood, gesturing at the chair. Tai hopped up onto it, and Robert obligingly pushed it a little closer to the screen.

"I'll be back in five or so minutes," the grownup mumbled. Tai heard the door shut, but there was activity on the screen that caught his eye.

He frowned and peered at it, before suddenly a picture appeared on the screen.

... It was of the living room of the tiny house he had lived in back in Alaska.

A sound issued from the speakers, and a shadow fell across the living room. Suddenly, Tai realized he wasn't seeing a picture, but a video. A moving picture.

Eraline walked in front of the camera, her face darkened with thought. Tai felt a strange unease as his mother slowly lowered herself to the old sofa he knew was in front of the fireplace, with a scratched coffee table between them. That would likely be what the camera sat on.

Camera? Tai didn't recall there being a video camera anywhere in his old house.

The recording of Eraline stared at her paws for a moment, then took a deep breath.

"You'd think after all the rehearsing, I'd know how to begin this," she said wryly. "Um, okay. Hello, Tai. I don't know, I mean, I'm not sure when you'll see this; I hope never. I hope at least I have time to make another, one slightly less depressing. I'd rather work these things through, make up for them... not admit to you just how much of a failure I've been. The only thing better than confession is redemption, but I suppose we just have to make do."

Tai frowned and sat forward in the leather chair. "What...?" he whispered aloud. "What's going on?"

Naturally, the visage of his dead mother had no reply for him. "Tai, not long ago, you turned eight years old. You're at school right now, and we haven't even really spoken since yesterday morning. We, uh... you came in asking for homework help. A little voice in the back of my head told me you didn't really need help." Eraline shifted on the couch, her expression numb. "I told you to go away. I don't blame you for being upset with me. But you have no idea."

The vixen seemed exhausted; which was pretty much how Tai remembered her in her last days. No, beyond exhausted. Tai peered at his mother's familiar face - something else was there. No, in her final days, she had been tired, but that was not all that Tai saw here.

"If you're watching this, then I'm... not there with you anymore." Eraline smiled wanly. "It always could have happened, and your father and I, we always prepared for it. We always prepared for things like this in advance. This is the third time I've recorded a video for you in case... The first one is still around, I'll keep them together - that one, your father... I-I think you'll be glad to see him again. I can't explain, or, uh, convey to you right now, just how much your father loved you, Tai. If only he was here for you now, because I'm not. I'm just not."

Onscreen, Eraline wiped her nose.

"I'm not going to make any excuses, Tai. I don't even know where I could begin to do so. F-firstly, we aren't poor. We never have been. It was all a lie. In order to do our job, your father and I... we made you live like this." She looked around disgustedly. "I know you love Alaska. I know. But you deserve better than this. Your father cried when he realized he couldn't buy you the bike you wanted, just before he..."

Suddenly, the vixen sobbed and closed her eyes briefly.

"Damn it. You deserve more than this. More than abject poverty, living in a crappy rundown shack in blizzard country, eating every second day. We could have given you a better, happier life - and I can see you're not happy. But we didn't; even when Tom died, I didn't. I could've ended it all right there, but I kept living this lie. That's... th-that's what I have to talk to you about, Tai. This is what you need to know."

Tai sniffled, surprised to find himself crying already.

"When Tom... when your dad was... taken from us, I should've taken you back to the place you were born, or maybe San Francisco; I quite liked that place. Instead, I stayed here; pretended I could still accomplish my goal." Eraline snorted. "Or perhaps not. I... haven't been the same, Tai. I know it, I feel it. Without Tom, I feel... I don't know. Alone out here, a-and you feel so distant-" There was a pause, then the vixen took a juddering breath. "If you'd just open up to me, Tai! If I could just let you open up to me! Th-that would help, but I don't know if it'd be enough.

"I... S-several weeks ago, there was a blizzard. We got snowed in for a few days. I-I remember lying awake all night, hoping you would go out to play in it. Th-then not come back; it would make things so easy."

Immediately, Tai gasped, his eyes flying wide open. However, the recorded vixen's face twisted in anguish, once again being buried in her paws.

"I'm sorry!" she groaned. "I know you must hate me for saying that. After everything I've done, I deserve it. How can I be like this? How dare I be a mother when horrible things like that are coming out of nowhere into my head like that?! I don't even think these things, they're just... I-It's been so hard with your father gone..." Once again, Eraline stared at the camera. Her eyes, though wet and reddened, suddenly became haunted and afraid. "I'm not the same, Tai. Living alone in this desolation is killing me. Th-thinking, a-and feeling what I do, whenever something like yesterday morning happens, I just want it to end. But I can't. Somewhere at the back of my head, I know you'd suffer just as much if you lost another parent while stranded out here in the middle of nowhere; you seem to have little enough as it is. So I can't; i-if you were gone, I wouldn't have to feel this. Wouldn't have to feel anymore; because giving in is so much easier than trying to make everything I've done wrong to you right again."

Tai's just stared at the screen, aghast. He felt suddenly sick, though the recording continued.

"Don't hate me, Tai. I know saying that is futile, but please forgive me. I'm so sorry!" Starting to cry, Eraline averted her eyes again. "You're the only thing I have now, and the only thing I live for. I-I'm a shattered person, but you're the only reason I have to pick up the pieces."

Bizarrely, Eraline laughed. "Oh. I've rehearsed this a dozen times, and now I'm recording it, all I can see is your face. Imagine how you have to hate me for everything I've done. M-maybe you'll understand when you're older; maybe you'll understand straight away. Maybe I deserve nothing but your loathing and contempt: I don't give a damn. I'm going to make up for this somehow.

"We're moving to New York City, where you were born, in a few weeks. You know, I think. It's hard to tell, but I think you know something is coming. You're not going to like it, at least not at first, but you'll see; you'll see what it's like to have friends and so much, uh, vivacity I guess, all around you. You'll even have family there, more or less. If your godparents' son is anything like his parents, you might get along. I think this will help me too. If nothing else, I can get myself the help I need from a psychiatrist or whatever, while your godparents pick up the slack - and god knows I've been a slack parent.

"There won't be any need for faking. You'll have a real life; you'll have real birthday presents - and actual parties! Won't that be fun? I will make this up to you, Tai. You'll have the life and the mom you deserve. I swear. It might take some time to get myself on the right track, but I love you too much to give in to this. I've got so much to look forward to with you."

A whimper escaped Tai's throat and he started to tingle all over.

Now the recorded Eraline started to smile again. "I don't plan to leave before then, but you never know. These messages need to be recorded - in my line of work, you never know. I want you to know all of this. I want you to at least have this to remember of me when you watch the sky at night, just thinking, the way you do. I'm not the best mother ever, and I've failed you more than you know; but I hope you know that I'm going to fix it all. I'll get myself together, and I'm going to fix everything."

She stood and approached the camera. "Okay. I think that's enough. It helps a lot to say this; keeping it all inside just makes you numb. If you make a habit out of not-feeling, well. You probably already know, I think. I love you, Tai. Oh, and as these videos always have to end: I hope you know you have your father's eyes. Most beautiful green I've ever seen; and you're the most beautiful thing in the world. Good bye, Tai. I hope every day from now is filled with happiness for you. You're the one star still shining in my, rather morbidly black, sky - forgive the poetry; your father is to blame. Good bye... I love you, even if you don't know it. Good bye."

The video stopped, and the screen turned black.

Something seemed to brush Tai's cheek and he reached up to touch it.

His father's eyes... she had mentioned that. Moments before...

It felt like the paw on his downy cheek slipped away, and a sickening image of blood streaking down white fur burned briefly in the kit's mind.

"Ahh!!" Tai screamed, falling forwards in the chair. As on that same day, he started to wail like a broken-hearted infant.

She was going to make it better.

Then she was taken away from him.

A twisting, wrenching pain contorted his heart - It wasn't fair. It was disgusting. It was wrong! But he couldn't even summon up the anger he wanted to throw at the world that had done this to his mother and him; throw it at the world until it was as broken as his old life had become. Despairing, Tai dropped his forearms on top of the keyboard, then slammed his head down upon them.

But in only a matter of seconds, something brushed his left paw. Startled, he looked up and saw a dark-brown furred paw start to grip his own of cloudy white. Attached to an almost chestnut colored arm.

Tai blinked, the image before him swimming in tears, but he knew who it was. "M-Mike?" he managed to croak.

His other paw was gently taken, and Tai looked over to his right. It was Robert, kneeling by his side and smiling reassuringly.

They just stayed there, quietly holding his little paws as his crying slowly wound down.

"Are you okay?" asked Mike when he seemed to be finished.

Tai gave a short nod and a sniff. "Y-yeah." He paused. "Th-thanks."

"Anytime."

Swallowing, Tai looked up at the mostly blank monitor. "A-at least we've said goodbye now," he whispered in a cracked voice.

"I'm sorry, Tai," murmured Robert. "I know that must've been hard to watch. I hope you can forgive her."

The tawny kit smiled weakly. "I-I think s-so."

It was bloody cold, still. The very air sparkled with mist and fine crystals of ice, even though the sun had broken through the clouds at last.

New York City was melting. Or rather, the layer of snow that had blanketed everything was starting to melt.

The trees of Central Park were thus mostly just twisted spines, clawing at the sky. Freezing though it was, Robert had to admit it was still beautiful, in a stark, simple way. It wasn't hard to see what Tai liked so much about the outdoors even in the winter. The snow was almost gone, and now the dewy, wet grass and flora were just starting to fight back against the weather. Struggling back to life.

In a way, thinking of it like that helped Robert understand why spring was such a wonder to some. Sacred even. Not merely the beginning of new life, but life's inevitable, undeniable return.

Standing with the other adults, he was busy wringing his paws while he watched the younger members of the congregation play in the snow, chasing one another and yelling obstreperously in the relatively quiet park. While Robert was shivering, it seemed the active kits didn't have a care about the temperature.

"Are you sure this is a good time for camping?" enquired Jake's father, chortling slightly.

Robert gave a wry grin. "Not really," he admitted. "But this was the time I picked. You know, Tai actually pointed out that it's dangerous to be out at this point; melting snow is dangerous, apparently."

"Yeah. Knows his stuff, that kid."

"We'll be alright though, we're driving inland a little; not going near anywhere dangerous, and it's been thawing out for a few days." Robert paused. "Well, relatively speaking. But camping can always be dangerous. Delayed for a few days already, on Tai's advice."

"Got any plans, or just looking to get away for a few days?" The alsatian rubbed his gloved paws together briskly.

Suddenly, Ciaran and Mike burst from behind a tree and sprinted past the adults, laughing excitedly.

"Come on, go, go!" Mike urged, accelerating down the path.

Aaron jumped out from the brush nearby. "Heads up, oldies!" he warned. Prudently, the assembled grownups stepped back as the ringtail teen skipped forward and pelted a green orb after the escaping foxes.

The tennis ball shot right past the adult muzzles and zeroed in with deadly accuracy on a tailed behind. With a wet smack, it impacted off of Mike's backside and the kit yelped.

"Aww, bloody hell!" he complained, stopping to retrieve the ball. He looked up and spotted a tawny and white face staring at him in surprise, having just stepped onto the broad cobbled path. "Here, catch, Tai!" With a giggle, he hurled the ball at the smaller boy.

Tai spun to the side and the ball flew off into the wet grass.

"Crap!"

Robert frowned. "Is it me, or is that tennis ball soaking wet?"

"That's the idea," explained Jake's father. "It stings. If you yelp like all heck or have a big wet patch on your clothes, you can't deny it hit you. Who else is it?"

"I've not been following, but I think Jake, actually."

Just as he said that, Tai leaned on a thick tree trunk to catch his breath. A teenaged canine simply strolled up to him, footsteps muffled in the wet soil, and deposited a wet ball in the kit's hood. Then promptly pulled it up over his head.

"Hey, wha-?!" Tai squeaked. When he knocked his hood down and the ball fell the ground where Jake had stood only seconds before - having now dashed away - he sighed, realizing what had happened. Brushing the dirt off his head-fur, he picked the ball up and started looking for a target.

"Was Jake hiding in the bushes?" asked the ring-tail twins' mother. "That's a sneaky way to catch someone in this game."

Robert shrugged. "Jake's just being realistic. Ever had to actually chase kits this age, Clara?" He chuckled. "They're small, but they're like lightning, and bloody maneuverable. It's easier for me to catch the teenagers I play football with."

"Can't they just keep running?"

"Nope, they set up the rules before they started playing." Robert grinned. "You can only run between the big tree and the bridge over there."

"Hey, fish-fox!" they heard Ciaran yell, apparently at Mike. "Let's see if you can aim as well as you swim!"

The ball promptly flew past the arctic's skull; with a delighted laugh, he sped away from it. Mike ran to retrieve the ball, and as Ciaran passed him, still taunting, he reached out and gently whacked the older boy on the head - with a paw full of wet grass and slushy snow.

Ciaran's dad chortled. "It's must be nice to have everything back to normal," he said to Robert. "After everything that happened, does it feel weird to be watching our kids play ball-tag in Central? Or having another kid in your apartment?"

"Brian, you have no idea." The fox raised an eyebrow. "Have to say though, it feels quite natural to have Tai in the apartment. I'm considering moving to another apartment though, or maybe to some place outside of Manhattan."

"Don't rent, whatever you do. Especially if you move on over to Staten."

"I know, Daryl's been telling me. If I can find another apartment on the same island it'll be good, but we definitely should relocate out of the current building."

Brian nodded thoughtfully. "I might be able to help you there. I'll see what we have in Manhattan. Prices are a little high at the moment."

The conversation drifted towards real estate as the congregated parents allowed their children to play unhindered. Though a few minutes later, Tai padded over to the adults, looking a little dejected.

"What's up?" enquired Robert.

Tai shrugged. "Nothing," he said. "Just a little tired."

"Alright, catch your breath for a bit then. We're gonna leave soon."

The kit nodded. "I know. It's just really hard to-" Suddenly he reached out and threw the tennis ball right into Robert's stomach. "-really hard to catch anyone who sees you coming! You're it!!"

"Ah!" Robert cried, fumbling the ball. "Tsk, Tai..."

The kit stopped a dozen feet away, grinning at the grownup. "What?"

"Tai, come on, I'm not really interested in trying to chase you!!" Before he'd even finished the sentence, the grownup had shot forward, chambering his arm to throw the tennis ball.

With a cry, Tai whirled around and sped off into the distance.

Robert chased him, but the slender kit was fast and wily. However, as they both reached the cobbled pathway again, a confused Ciaran stopped to look at them. Without a second's pause, Robert spun around and took aim. Realizing his mistake, the arctic fox tried to run, but Robert hurled the ball at his feet.

It bounced off the cobbles and shot into the back of the kit's legs, stumbling him. "Whoa, shit!" Ciaran exclaimed, regaining his balance. "Aw, man!"

Robert chortled to himself. "Oh yeah. Still got it."

"Got what?" a voice asked him from behind. Something wet smacked into the center of his back, and Robert slowly turned around to see Mike grinning at him. "No tag-backs," the boy said flatly.

"It's alright," assured Robert, noticing a certain alsatian teenager blithely walking up behind the barky-furred kit. "I'll get you back some other way. I'm inventive that way."

"Bwaha- hey!" Mike jumped as Jake pulled his jacket collar back and dumped another sopping wet ball down his shirt. "Aww, what?!"

Jake shrugged and started to jog away. "Pay attention, Mikey! Gloating is a weakness!"

At last, things started to wind down.

The adults all had things to do that day, and the kits were reluctantly being dragged along for the ride - all aside from Tai and Mike, both ecstatic about their plans for the day. Especially Mike, who had never gone camping before in his life.

As one big group, they made their way out of the park.

"Did you see- hey, did you see last episode?" Mike was asking. "That was awesome."

"Yeah," replied Ciaran. "Azimar completely underestimated them."

Baffled, Ciaran's father leaned closer to Robert as they walked along. "Are you following any of this?" he asked.

"Heck no," admitted Robert. "They're talking about that Eidolon: Zero show. Tai got Mike into it."

"I thought programming was hard," the arctic mumbled. "This stuff is far too complicated."

Tai snickered. "Yeah, I didn't know you could do that attack in the Spirit World."

"You can do it in the games, so I knew it was coming."

The tawny kit faltered in his stride. "G-games?!"

Millie laughed at him. "You didn't know there were games? You really are deprived."

"Shut up, vegan." Aaron smirked and danced out of the range of physical retaliation. "You're one to talk about deprivation."

The female ring-tail reached into her jacket pocket and withdrew one of the tennis balls. She hurled it at her brother, but Mike, with a grin on his face, reached out and deflected the still soaking object.

"Whew, thanks bro!" Aaron said.

Mike chuckled and leapt away from the bigger ring-tail girl. "No worries, I've got your back!"

When at last the others bid their farewells, leaving the trio of foxes to walk to their car, Mike was busy picking at his clothes.

"What's up with you, Mike? Ants in your pants?" Robert unlocked the car via remote.

The barky-furred kit groaned. "I'm soaking," he mumbled plaintively.

"It's going to get colder and wetter, Mike," warned the grownup. "You brought a change of clothes right?"

"Yep. Of course."

"Both of you should change in the car, then." Robert opened the driver's door. "I know they feel weird, but put on your singlet; or tank-top, whatever they bloody call them here again."

"Undershirt?" Tai offered.

"Yeah, those. It's only going to get colder from here on, so get ready while you have the chance."

Mike nodded and started undoing his jacket as he reached the door. "Roger."

As the boys got into the car and started pulling their wet clothes off, rooting around in their bags for warmer garments, Tai looked up into the rear-view mirror.

"How long is the trip, uh, dad?" he asked. Saying that still gave him a strange feeling.

"About three hours. Most of that will just be getting the hell of the island."

Tai sighed. "Alright."

"Hang on..." Mike put down the white undershirt he was about to don. "Put on the heating, dad? We should dry off a little."

Robert snorted a laugh and twisted the knob near his dashboard. "Alright, but I wonder what's going to happen if people look our way at the toll-gates."

Mike just shrugged. "Fine, but they better pay us for the show!"

"I think they're more likely to just call you nuts." Robert snickered.

"It's a common misconception," Tai drawled, grinning at his brother. They both burst out laughing.

The car growled and surged forwards.

"This is a good spot, I think," Robert mumbled to himself, carefully lowering the heavy bag he carried to the wet ground. "At least we've got some protection from the wind."

The grove was medium sized, and it was a few minutes off the road. Robert found himself actually contemplating trading his sleek sedan for an SUV, just in case this became a regular thing - the sedan was fine for the city, but it certainly had trouble getting over the bumpy grass and shrubbery when they deviated off the interstate.

Mike took the duffel bag he had slung over his shoulder and dumped it next to his father's. "We're not moving away from the car?" he asked, a faint hint of disappointment in his tone.

"Not today." Robert looked pointedly up at the sky. "If bad weather comes, I don't want to be half-a-mile into the forest. We'll go for a hike though."

"Awesome!" The barky-furred kit opened the bag. "Okay, can I set the tent up?"

Robert chuckled. "I don't know, can you? Ever done it before?"

"Nope! Gotta learn somehow!"

"Ask Tai to show you." Robert glanced over at the car only to see his adopted son shuffling on his knees out of the back seat, buttocks first. The kit hopped out and shut the door, hitching another bag on his shoulders. "Hey, Tai, wanna help Mike set up the tent?"

Grinning, Tai placed the carry-bags alongside the others and dusted his paws off. "Sure!"

The long-haired boy was so happy, Robert would've sworn he could feel it radiating from him. Though Tai seemed to be getting a little fonder of New York, he had been looking forward to this trip with an almost air-headed excitement - which had only intensified once the day came, and led to some unusually loud antics in the back of the car during the long trip.

They weren't that far from the city, but they were far enough. Robert had specifically picked this place, even researching it with satellite imagery from the internet. There was a hilltop nearby that offered a view he was certain to please the boys.

All three of them ended up helping to pitch the tent, which was by no means a small one. Robert had spent several hundred dollars on the twelve-foot wide monstrosity, made of heavy, weather resilient material, and it was too large for the kits to put up by themselves.

When it was finally set up, and Tai was satisfied it wouldn't collapse or be blown away in a storm, they stopped to survey their work.

"Brr." Mike shivered. "Sure is a cold day to be outside."

Robert nodded fervently. "I'm rethinking the wisdom of coming here today. We might not even be able to make a campfire or anything; it's too wet."

"Wait!" Tai suddenly exclaimed, bounding over to one of the bags. In seconds he had withdrawn a little metal shovel - a military issue 'evacuation' tool that the boy had insisted Robert buy. Kneeling near the front of the tent, Tai started to dig. "Get some wood, please?"

"I can do better than that," Robert said slowly. "I have those heating rocks. Whatever they're called. Why are you digging?"

"Gonna make the fire down here." Tai made a small hole scarcely ten inches deep. As Robert started to walk over to the car, he realized Tai had actually shifted to the side and was digging yet another hole.

Mike knelt beside him. "What are you doing?"

"You'll see. This is really neat." Tai grinned at him. "The soil's wet, so the hole won't fall in."

After a minute, Tai had punched through the cold, hard dirt, connecting the two holes he had dug, and deposited the excess soil to the side. Robert started to smile when he noticed the second hole was actually on an angle - Tai had created a flue. "Oh, that's smart," he commented, also kneeling by the holes.

"The air will come in from the other hole," the boy indicated, still grinning. "The wind is coming from that way. Even if it's wet, we won't lose the fire. Oh, and we can put sticks over the top to make sure stuff doesn't fall in, or give it, um, like a cover. So the rain doesn't get in and put it out."

Satisfied, Tai sat back on his shins while Mike gingerly inspected the fire pit.

"That is cool," he stated simply.

Soon the campsite was set up well enough, and Tai's discrete fire burned hot. Even though it was essentially buried, it gave off such an intense heat that it pierced the frigid air easily; it also kicked up quite a bit of mist, which Tai insisted on waving away with a spare jacket. He remarked that they might have to set up the covering he mentioned, and so the boys went looking for sticks and leaves. Together, Mike and Tai ranged about the campsite, grabbing the choicest sticks and bark they could spot.

When they returned, they found Robert had placed a kettle on a metal frame over the hole and was sitting on a blanket with a wide grin.

Tai scowled at him and put his paws on his hips. "You had that all along? We could've used that as a cover."

"You were having so much fun!" objected his father, face perfectly straight. "And I wanted a cup of tea."

The kit sighed exaggeratedly. "Well, we can make it up afterwards, or put it on top of the kettle. We gotta stop it making so much smoke."

"Right." The adult smirked. "I suppose now is a bad time to tell you about the gas-cooker I brought that we could've used for a fire?"

Both of the boys stared at him disapprovingly.

The evening marched on, and soon they sat down to enjoy their tea under the purplish twilight. The coldness of the day gave them further reason to huddle together around the fire, talking and sharing snacks around like a late-night picnic.

"Oh, hey, did you bring Tai's gun?" Mike asked at one point, in between mouthfuls of a chicken sandwich slightly toasted over the fire.

Robert blinked. "No, of course not. Why?"

"Well, we're out camping. I thought you could practice shooting stuff if you were outside the city." Mike grinned.

"Not exactly, Mike. I think it has to be someone's property, someone that we know, not just a few hundred meters off the road." Robert frowned. "I'm not sure though. Going to have to get the facts straight."

"Why?" asked Tai, perking an ear.

"Well, believe it or not, I see the value in not going camping in the middle of nowhere without a gun. I think I've seen too many of those movies." Robert grinned. "And I did say I might teach you some hunting skills; assuming I pick them up myself."

Mike shrugged cheerily. "Hey, as if they'd find out we have it! We should just bring it anyway."

His father shook his head. "Last thing I want to risk is having some cop hear us shooting at tin-cans and take away Tai's father's present. I'm really unclear on the laws when it comes to this; we might even have to go outside the state to use it freely, or apply for a hunting license."

"I don't want to shoot any animals," whispered Tai. "Only if I have to."

"I know, it's alright. Speaking of that, you know there's a competition coming up?" The grownup raised a suggestive eyebrow. "Juniors. Low-caliber."

Tai nodded glumly. "I know. I can't compete because I'm not thirteen."

"Now that is stupid!" Mike exclaimed abruptly. "Aaron could, but not me or Tai?"

"I know. As if there's not adult supervision - or as if you're going to go on a shooting spree." Robert shrugged. "After all, you kids are so irresponsible. You'll start a gunfight if someone calls you a dummy-head, right? That's why they have these condescending adults hovering over your shoulders."

Mike scowled indignantly.

"Don't worry about it. I'm not actually talking about that one." Robert smirked. "There's a free entry contest outside the city. Their minimum age is nine."

Briefly, Tai's ears pricked. Then they drooped comically. "I'll never win."

As Robert was about to comment, Mike held up a paw. "Let me." The brown-furred kit shifted around until he was facing his brother, who watched him in bemusement. "Okay, here's how it goes. Unless you're really lucky, or you're up against cruddy competition, you always lose your first meet. Then you'll probably lose the next five or ten, because even if you're really good at the sport, you gotta be good at it in a competition - it's different. But if you keep going, you might win, um, maybe some of the time. Maybe. You're up against a whole bunch of others who are trying their best to win as well, after all.

"If you quit, you're never gonna win, and you'll never get good - you have to practice and keep trying, and you'll stuff up a million times, but you won't even get 'okay' at something if you don't. To get good, you gotta practice a lot, compete a lot, even if you lose a few times."

Tai blinked. "B-but I-"

"It isn't even about winning, really," Mike continued. "It's about trying your best and seeing how good you are compared to others, and if you win that's cool too. If competing isn't fun because you aren't winning, you got the wrong idea about why you're competing."

The tawny-furred kit stared for a few seconds. "You mean, d-do it because you like the sport?"

"Yeah, sort of. It's just like playing a video game. You can just run around blowing stuff up for no reason and get bored quickly, or you can play through the story mode trying to win because that gives you a goal. But look: you'll never get good if you don't practice a lot and go into tournaments. So just give it a shot - pun intended!"

"That was awful, Mike," groaned Robert. "But excellent advice."

Tai bit his lip. "Okay... I'll try."

But Mike held up his paw again. "Uh-uh. Don't try. Practice. Practice, practice, practice! Because it is more fun if you do good, and that takes a lot of practice of whatever you're doing! Anyone who ever got good at anything practiced their tail off!"

Robert sighed. "Yeah, I've created a monster," he muttered quietly. "You know, Tai. On that matter, I have to ask, ever considered taking up wrestling or anything?"

There was an incredulous pause. "W-wrestling?" Mike scoffed. "Tai?"

"Don't do that, Mike. You know they have weight classes, so it's not like Tai would be facing off against behemoths or adults." Robert shrugged. "It's just a thought. You're a non-violent kit, Tai, and I know you're not as competitive as most of Mike's friends - but just think about it. Maybe a martial art, perhaps for both of you? Could be useful; certainly would give you both a workout. It wouldn't have to become your main hobby or anything like that, maybe just something on the side, like the rock climbing."

The boys both shared a glance.

Robert smiled slightly. "Let me put it this way. At the university, we have wrestling classes. I've seen the most unlikely-looking furs hurl opponents around like pillows, and you can't always just pick the victor before the match by looking - knowing what to do, and getting into shape, when you're small can make a big difference. Your mindset can make an even bigger difference."

Tai stared at the shimmering air above the fire. "I... I guess."

Smiling, Robert looked up at the sky.

The dark grey clouds had long separated, signifying the night would be the first one with clear skies in weeks. They had timed everything perfectly; holding off for a day or so to let the snow melt, as per Tai's suggestion, had been an auspicious choice.

An ethereal purplish glow infused the sky that slipped closer and closer to the darkness of night. Robert looked forward to it.

He cleared his throat. "Guys," he said slowly, "in a little while, we're going to go for a walk. There's something I want you both to see."

The kits shared a glance again.

"Okaaay." Mike frowned. "What're you up to, dad?"

However the grownup just smiled at them both.

It was over an hour later that night truly fell, and the family of vulpines started to get ready for their hike. They made doubly sure the pockets of their thick jackets and pants contained everything they had decided they may need.

Durable torches of shock-resistant synthetic materials were tied to their wrists - another suggestion of Tai's. It made good sense, Robert admitted; dropping a torch in the middle of the forest at night and losing it for whatever reason would be very bad news. But, by now, the tawny pup had ceased to surprise his new father.

They set out north, talking quietly to one another. Having long left the trail, blundering around at night on the forest floor was dangerous - particularly for Robert, who was continually checking their position on the GPS navigation device he had strapped to his wrist. Several times they tripped on branches fallen from the dead trees, slipped on wet patches or leaves, or stumbled on uneven ground. Though they never hurt themselves badly, Mike's pride suffered a blow when he slipped and fell on his backside as they walked up a hill, sliding comically back down until a tree brought him to a halt.

Yet nobody suggested giving in and heading back to the camp site. In fact, the kits seemed excited, just enjoying the trek. Robert found himself wearing a massive grin before an hour had passed.

This was going to be worth it, he knew. Even though he wouldn't be there to witness it all.

No, he had decided that days ago.

This was going to be their moment.

They had been fighting their way through the forest for nearly two hours when Robert's ears picked up the first yawn.

"We're nearly there," he promised the kits. "Just hold on. We still need to head back after this."

Mike hopped over a dangerous rock. "But what about the car, dad? Is it safe now that we're so far away?"

"Not really," confessed the grownup. "But I doubt anyone will encounter it in the dark. This isn't the most travelled area, you know."

Mike snorted. "We're in serial killer territory then! Told you we should've brought the gun."

"Who says I didn't bring a gun?" Robert drawled, checking the GPS. "Alright." He pointed forwards and up. A gently sloping hill stood before them, covered in sparse grass and trees. "Just up there."

Groaning, the kits started to pull themselves up the incline after their long-legged father.

At the top, Robert had to laugh as they both collapsed on the ground, exaggerating their tiredness.

"Guys," Robert called to them, pointing back down the hill. "The car is over there."

Mike, who had fallen face-first, moaned and got to his paws. "Wow. We came this far? It totally felt like we'd only been walking a minute."

"Look at the river. Can you see the river?"

"Yeah." Mike scratched his head. "Hey, it looks like it's glowing... whoa. Everything's glowing."

Tai stood by his brother, scanning the brightly lit forest below them. It was a vast stretch of land covered with denuded trees, though with patches of surprisingly vivid greens and yellows; the forest, like the park they had left from, was struggling back to life, shrugging off the deathly chill of winter. "This place is pretty..."

"It is, but you're not looking in the right direction yet." Robert turned to face them, a strange smile on his face "Think about it. No street lights. Nothing - it's a new moon. How come you can see the forest so clearly? What's with this visibility?"

The kits blinked, and Robert merely pointed upwards.

"Look."

Together, Tai and Mike slowly inclined their heads upwards.

Tai gasped, and Mike's eyes widened.

"Wh-what...?" the barky-furred kit breathed. "Wooow. That's... th-that's..."

"Beautiful..." supplied Tai, suddenly smiling too.

"I-I was gonna go with 'freakin' awesome' but..." Mike swallowed. "I-I've never seen this before."

The sky was not the flat blackness he had expected - certainly not the featureless, murky gray he was used to. Mike had seen stars before, but not like this.

Glittering sparks shone above him in every direction; the sky was a brilliant cobalt, shot through with the darkest black, like dye bleeding from a canvas of obsidian. Mike found himself reeling: the sky seemed so deep, an ocean filled with thousands of living lights that went on forever.

"That's incredible!" The kit found his eyes watering, and he staggered backwards. "Th-they're not all in one place. They look like they're at different distances..."

Tai merely nodded.

Chuckling, Robert stepped away. "I'll be at the bottom, guys. Come down when you're ready."

"Dad?" Mike asked, confused, but not looking down.

Robert put his paws in his pocket. "Don't worry," he said. "This is your time. I've seen this before."

With that, the grownup padded on down the hill, leaving the two youngsters to themselves.

"... Never seen anything like this," Mike repeated, mostly to himself. He scanned the sky, from the horizon beyond the forest to the dense, unfathomable field of stars directly above. "Th-the sky doesn't look like this back home."

Tai shuffled. "Light pollution," he said, looking over at his brother. "I've seen this b-before..." The kit's eyes widened and he turned slightly. "Mike..."

"Yeah?"

"L-look." Tai raised a paw, pointing at something directly behind Mike, in the direction they had been walking.

Eventually, Mike turned around. Reluctant to tear his gaze from the twinkling stars.

Yet a million, million more of them seemed to greet him when he did. Varicolored, shimmering and intensely bright, it seemed a constellation had taken root in the earth itself. Reds, blues, greens... though mostly made up of vibrant whites and yellows.

"Holy shit..." Mike gasped. "I've never seen that either."

Tai found himself gawking. It took several moments for him to realize what he was looking at.

New York City itself, skyscrapers tall and somehow delicate in the distance, shone with countless brilliant lights. Radiating a beauty and warmth he hadn't ever noticed on the streets themselves.

How could such a dreary, dirty place be so beautiful? Even if from a distance? Tai couldn't understand it. He never would've expected to see anything like this from the place he so dreaded when he arrived many months ago.

Mike laughed joyously, watching the city, rapt.

For some reason, Tai found his eyes focusing on his brother now.

The city he found so dark and cold...

It had led him to the brightest light in his entire short life. It had given him the warmth the sun and stars could not. Shown him the way when he was too lost for them to help.

By day, the city seemed a place of isolation. Surrounded by millions of others, Tai had been keenly aware that he was still alone. But that had only been half the story. He had been so caught up in his own sadness, so upset by the conflicting remoteness and chaotic exposure of his new home that he had forgotten how to see the city lights when they shone right in front of him.

Slowly, Mike turned back around, his eyes drawn again to the bluish-black of the night sky. "This is awesome!" he enthused. "I wanna stay here."

Unable to help it, Tai reached out and took his brother's paw, twining their fingers tightly.

"Huh?" Mike looked at him.

But Tai stepped forward wordlessly, hugging the bigger boy tightly around the ribcage with his spare arm, pressing their bodies together.

Immediately, Mike responded, squeezing the tawny-furred kit to him firmly and laying his head on his cheek. "What's wrong?"

"I'm glad I met you," Tai said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah... me too."

Their paws separated and the two kits clung to each other. A cold breeze struck up, threatening to knock them to the wet grass and soil, but together they were barely rocked by it.

Though their eyes were closed at first, as they just enjoyed the warmth and closeness, soon they couldn't help but open them again. The glimmering stars and the vast constellation of the city drawing their attention as they held each other close.

Minutes passed as they swayed together on the hilltop, just trying to absorb the wonders they were seeing. The lights weren't static; they moved. They seemed to breathe as they flickered and shifted in the distance. As they did, so did the fox boys, their hearts beating as one.

On a sudden whim, Tai leaned back and touched noses with his bigger brother. Smiling, they searched one another's faces.

"One heck of a view up here..." Mike murmured. "The stars and stuff are nice too."

Tai giggled. "You know what?"

"What?"

"You're my best friend ever."

Mike exhaled slowly. "I think we're a bit further along than that..."

At a signal unspoken, the boys slowly pressed their muzzles together. The kiss was brief, and soon they separated.

Sighing, Mike broke into a happy grin. "I love you, Tai."

The emerald eyes glittered mischievously. "Prove it."

"Okay."

This time, the kiss wasn't so brief.

Bathed in the starlight, the kits let the moment continue. In fact, even when they would stop and separate, much, much later, this moment would be with them forever.

Just as they would always be.

Now, their stories, their lives, had become one.

---

Epilogue - two weeks later...

With a crunch of gravel and sand, Royler brought his utility truck to a halt. On the vehicle's rear tray, the crates slid forward to smack up against the cab, and the coyote looked around with a sigh. The boxes didn't seem damaged, but the old rope he had used to secure it had clearly snapped - possibly many hours ago, when he was crossing into South America. The route to avoid the customs checkpoints was rough and too long for his liking.

Waste of time really. Royler knew it would've been smarter to just bribe the guards, but the big boss didn't want any traces. As a professional 'courier', Royler knew nobody would be able to track him beyond the Texan border; he was good at what he did, and like any good smuggler, completely ordinary in every way.

He could even eliminate his Brazilian accent on demand, appearing as an ordinary American as necessary. Though he always felt a little ashamed afterwards. He had nothing against Americans; he made quite a lot of money off of them, in fact. But he was a patriot.

The boxes in back contained a few samples of heroin, nothing to write home about. But Royler was really here to deliver something far more volatile; something he had to keep even more secret than a dozen pounds of illicit drugs. The boss wouldn't be happy to know he risked it just for the sake of getting high when he got back home.

Coughing, the coyote opened the door and stepped out onto the dusty street. He cast a slightly bitter eye over the estate on the other side of the road. It was a three story hacienda, complete with a forty-foot pool and tennis court. It was sobering to remember this was merely his employer's holiday home.

The pleasant-faced squirrel out the front, wearing polarized sunglasses and street-clothes, wasn't a typical local. The slender earpiece and microphone nestled in one of his ears wasn't connected to his cell phone either. Royler knew the friendly looking fur was absurdly armed and one of the best trained killing machines he'd ever had the 'fortune' to work with.

Smiling winsomely, the guard waved him over. "Hola," he called.

Royler held up a paw, and then popped his hood. Avoiding eye contact with the deceptively cheerful squirrel, he wandered to the front of his vehicle and withdrew a tiny plastic box from his hiding place beneath the engine's fan belt. It wasn't the perfect hiding spot, but it worked most of the time; the biggest concern was damaging items with the heat, but the insulation on this little container was rated to withstand over a hundred and fifty degrees. That is, before the inside itself got hotter than room temperature.

The package was entirely safe.

"Technology, eh?" Royler mused to himself.

When the guard finished frisking him to a point just short of humiliation, Royler was escorted past the pool, which he couldn't help but eye wistfully. Perhaps he needed to ask for a higher payment next time.

Or maybe he could cut back on the drugs. He was pretty sure he could stop if he cared to, and the costs were a little steep.

Around the back of the lavish little estate, he was led up some stairs on the outside and finally taken into the building itself.

It was truly a beautiful place. Wooden walls, chandeliers, and intricately patterned carpets.

In the living room, his employer was relaxing in a chaise longue, holding a brightly colored cocktail in one paw and tapping merrily away on a net-book that rested alongside him.

Clad in a pair of tan pants and a white, silken shirt, the middle-aged panther looked quite sleek. He could almost be a tourist, just a well-dressed one. The golden watch on his wrist was probably worth more than what Royler made in a year in his previous job - before he wised up to ways to make the world work for him.

Oddly, the panther's stylized head-fur had a dusting of gray at the top. Almost a crown of silver.

Quickly, the coyote scanned the room. In the corner, apparently engrossed in his reading, sat a young jackal, no more than seventeen or so. The canine looked up at him, and the strange ambivalence in his eyes made him shiver momentarily.

Royler didn't even believe in things like that until he met this kid. Eyes were eyes, right? How was it possible to convey anything with just your eyes? But somehow, the agate hard gaze of this young jackal seemed both intensely focused and oddly laconic. Watching everything, processing it all, every detail, and clearly not giving a fuck about any of it.

Outside, on the balcony, a short, smaller cercal sat between two bamboo plants. His legs were crossed and he was meditating, garbed in strange oriental clothing that Royler had never seen outside of movies - and occasionally on the streets of New York, but that place was just crazy, he felt.

It was a good thing the cercal was meditating. Royler always found himself intimidated by the young Asian feline. Fierce black markings around his dark eyes made him look strangely feral, and yet he carried himself with the dignity and confidence of a maniacal killer.

Royler didn't know whether he was or not, and he didn't want to find out.

The panther looked around calmly. "Ah, Royler!" he exclaimed, smiling broadly. His voice was genial and exuberant; not what Royler had expected when he met him. Though he quickly discovered it didn't mean very much - how one sounds and one's true nature were often completely different. "Come on, sit down. Would you like a drink?"

After thinking about it for a long split-second, the coyote nodded. "Yes, thank you, Mister Grayson."

"Please, Alex will do." The panther sat up. "I assume you have the package."

Royler handed him the little container. "It is only a memory card."

"That's just fine." Grayson smiled even wider. "Did our contact tell you exactly what this is about?"

Royler nodded. "I do not ask questions, but he told me to pass on a few details."

"Oh?"

The coyote suddenly felt a chill. "Well, he said it was a report on, uh, wh-what happened at New York, as well as all related information you might want."

"Information on what? Come now, my friend, I expect you'd have looked at it. Information is power, right?"

That was only partially true. Sometimes, information was poison. Plutonium. To be kept as far away from as possible.

Royler averted his eyes. "I only know what the contact told me; he told me more than I wanted to hear. I-I only know that the New York op has been destroyed. Some sort of CIA sting, it happened too fast - our contact said he couldn't warn anyone."

"What happened?" Grayson took a lazy sip from his glass.

"I-it was your son, Darron." Royler shuffled slightly. "He went on some sort of vendetta. Crusade, man. Kidnapped two kids, but they got away from him. Contacted their father, some CIA guy. Then the Coast Guard and the police were all over the docks, right in the middle of a shipment transfer."

The jackal shook his head slightly, not looking up from his book. "Darron was an idiot."

Sighing, Grayson cast his gaze at the floor. "He was a troubled young boy. I can hardly blame him. What do we know about the CIA's involvement? Why would Darron want to do something so foolish?"

Royler shrugged, but the jackal put down his book. "The agent who nearly compromised the New York operation several years ago..." he murmured. "He blames her for his mother's death. Nate told me about this." The youth glared hard at the courier. "Tell me more. Was it her? What happened? Where is Nate?"

The coyote swore to himself. "A-all I know is that the operative who led the attack was male - a friend of the one from several years ago."

"Where is she?"

"Darron got Nate to ice her." Royler swallowed - his muzzle had gone dry. "B-but then the... male operative, the one who screwed over our New York operation, he killed Nate."

The jackal stiffened visibly. "...What? H-he's dead?"

Grayson held up a paw. "We can assume the same agent was responsible for the death of Darron and the others in charge of that little crew?" he asked pleasantly. "Is that why we've not heard from them? We know they've got the boat, and the shipment."

"S-something like that. The contact hinted it was the children who got Marco, and his friend... we think Darron himself killed him. I dunno, he said the details were on the card."

"So Darron went rogue, so to speak," mused the panther, finishing his drink. "Like I figured. Disastrous. We've cut our losses though. The New York operation, we'll rebuild it easy. They can't lead it back to us."

A scantily clad female silver-fox with dead-eyes entered the room. She handed Royler a bright red cocktail, and made to leave quickly.

"Ah, bring me a Long Island, would you, doll?" Grayson called after her. "I'm afraid I'll need a stiff drink. I just found out my son is dead, after all."

The jackal snapped his book shut and stared at the carpet. "That idiot..."

"I know you didn't get along with Darron, but don't hate him for this. I was the idiot to not expect it." Grayson shrugged.

Royler drained his glass quickly. His pulse had quickened by now and he felt terribly uneasy. This was not normal. Things had gone wrong.

If only he'd picked that up back in the States. He could be halfway to Iceland by now.

"I don't mean him, father. Nate. He should've known to leave that city; leave the country. Why did he do this?" The teenager hung his head. "Why did he expose himself to the agency that wanted him dead?"

"Perhaps he wanted himself dead," offered the cercal on the balcony, his voice flowing and mellifluous, tinged with a hint of a Chinese accent. "It was no life that he had now. What did he have to live for?"

But the teenaged jackal simply sighed, a paw clenching into a fist.

"We'll find the one who did this," promised Grayson, shutting his net-book over. "We'll finish this business once and for all."

The jackal nodded. "Good."

"You don't rush a thing like this, boys. We wait, and then do what we need to do when the time is right." Grayson rubbed his chin. "After all, we can't blame the CIA for doing their jobs. We're all just doing what we have to, eking out an existence as best we can."

Royler blinked. His vision had gone fuzzy. The cocktail was very powerful, it seemed. He was thankful for that. Some liquid courage would be helpful here; and he hadn't had a drink in days.

"We should kill this CIA insect's own son," suggested the cercal. "It would be appropriate."

"No," insisted the jackal. "I won't kill anyone who doesn't deserve it. I'm done with that."

Suddenly, Royler's legs buckled and he fell to his knees. "Wh-what?" he croaked, dropping the brightly colored cocktail to the ground. His body went numb and he pitched face first onto the wet carpet.

"We don't need to kill anyone," mused Grayson, glancing only briefly at the pole-axed coyote. "That attracts attention and gives us little profit - goes right against both halves of my motto. Anyway, we'll come back to this. I have to deal with this short-selling issue before it gets out of hand."

Royler gasped, his lungs seizing up. "O Cristo!" he wheezed. "Please! I-I stay silent! Never talk to anyone!"

Strong paws grabbed his neck and hauled him to his knees. Grayson looked over at him again.

"Sorry, buddy. This is all too... touchy for us to just let you go, knowing everything you do." The panther sighed, looking genuinely regretful. "I liked you too. I'm sorry to resort to this pathetic poisoning cliché, but simply shooting you would be a pain in the ass to clean up. Can never get that kinda metallic smell out of carpets like this. I suppose we'll just have to dispose of you by sticking all that heroin you stole from me into you at once."

The squirrel guard hoisted Royler's paralyzed body over his shoulders in a fireman's carry before starting off towards the exit.

"N-no!" Royler pleaded, though his voice was only a groan. "You twisted b-bastard..."

However, nobody was paying him any attention as his limp form dangled off the deceptively strong squirrel's back. Draped over the guard's neck like a wet towel. The dead-eyed maid walked by again, bringing a drink to her employer - or perhaps master.

She did not comment, or even glance at the doomed coyote.

"Where did this report come from, father?" murmured the jackal youth as Royler was being carried around the corner.

"Hm? Our informant in Manhattan."

"Which one?"

Everything blurred into meaninglessness and Royler's vision darkened. A darkness he knew would be permanent. It was over. He was dead. Dead, and he would leave nothing behind.

As he asked himself where he had gone wrong, why he had turned his back on his family and his God, lived as a worthless shadow... he heard an indulgent chuckle.

"Our friend in the CIA, of course."

... To be continued.

Final Words!

Gosh. This story has become so much more than I imagined.

Thank you, those of you who were with me from the beginning.

Thank you, those who supported me through the tough times I went through while writing this tale.

Thank you, all of you. I wouldn't be here now, and I wouldn't have come this far, if it weren't for you all.

I hope you take as much from my story as I did, and as much as I took from my myriad influences. I hope I touched your hearts the way mine has been. Tai and Mike's story may be over for now, but mine isn't, and neither is yours.

Thank you all once again!

Tai's Story - Fin.

By Kichigai Kitsune.

Copyright Kichigai Kitsune 2011.