Astray

By Kichigai Kitsune. 2010 onwards.

Warning! This story contains adult themes and coarse language. This story also contains and refers to sensitive topics, such as child abuse, either institutionalized or from parents. Even worse, it contains scenes of a sexual nature involving a young anthropomorphic furry character ("cub") and an actual plot. Be advised, and do not continue if you are under the age where you would be legally allowed to view such material according to the laws you are subject to.

WARNING: readers have asked me to reiterate this. This story contains details of child abuse, involuntary incarceration in a behavior modification facility and resultant trauma. Sensitive readers and those who were unfortunate enough to have similar experiences should be careful.

If you enjoy my content or approve of my message, consider supporting me so I can keep doing this. https://www.patreon.com/kichigaikitsune

---

Week Three - Choices

Alone. He was suddenly alone.

That's what woke him up. The bed had been so warm, and he'd been so comfortable, but suddenly he had rolled over and there'd been nothing there. It had gotten colder too. Once, he always slept so deeply that nothing fazed him - he was young after all. He needed his sleep. Loved his sleep. Though recently, thanks to what he endured at his last home, sleep had become difficult, elusive, and his somnolent brain easily jolted itself awake at the slightest disturbance.

"Unh?" Nick moaned, pulling himself upright a little. The lights were out, but it wasn't utterly dark. His eyes slowly adjusted.

The double bed was empty. The sheets had been pulled up tightly to his neck, almost as if he'd been alone there all along.

Looking around, Nick saw light from the edges of the curtains. As he tugged the covers away, he also spotted light seeping in at the base of the room's door too. Confused, he looked around for the alarm clock he knew was near the headboard, on the cheap bedside cabinet. The green digits indicated it was early. Half past six. Nick usually wasn't up for another hour at least. Longer on the weekends, like today. Besides, not like he had to go to school anymore!

The nine-year-old cheetah boy slipped out from beneath the covers and hopped to his feet. He looked around for his pajama top - he never wore it to bed. Like his father.

He pulled the light, breathable shirt over his head and padded sleepily to the door. It was too early. He wondered where his father had gone. It wasn't right for him to leave Nick like that. Made him worry, especially now.

The door opened and Nick stepped bare-pawed into the motel room's living room. The carpet was itchy and dirty. Cigarette butts had been stamped into it, firmly, and evidently nobody felt the need to work them out. The only light came from the dull glow of the kitchen light, darkened further by the myriad tiny dots of insects that busied themselves flying mindlessly around it.

Before the decrepit, damaged couch at the far end of the room, a large figure sat motionlessly. His dad slouched on his backside at the small coffee table in the middle of the room, over a nearly empty bottle of vodka. He sat facing the television on the small wooden cabinet up against the outer wall, his eyes were unfocused. The screen was off. Though Nick was clearly in his field of vision, he didn't seem to notice him enter.

"Dad?" the kit murmured, starting to sleepily walk over to the big adult. "Why're you in here?"

His father's eyes clicked over and focused on him at last. He blinked a few times, raising his vodka bottle to his muzzle.

"I'm cold, dad. Do you have to stay up?" Nick's voice was hopeful. "Are you coming back to bed?"

The big adult closed his eyes and seemed to wilt. "Oh, shit!" he whispered to himself. Nick was taken aback. It seemed like his father was about to cry.

"What's wrong, dad?"

The vodka bottle was drained entirely, and his father struggled to his feet. He stumbled against the coffee table and a tumbler fell to the ground, spilling its black liquid over the carpet. It was Nick's vodka and cola from earlier. In response to his begging, his dad gave him a little before bed, but he couldn't finish it. The liquid hissed and bubbled nastily and Nick's dad swore at it, barely keeping his balance.

"I'll get it." Nick promptly walked across the living room to the kitchen, rubbing his eye absently.

But his dad stepped in front of him. "Forget about it, Nicky..." he murmured. "I need to talk to you."

"D-dad?"

The grownup knelt in front of his son, resting both paws on the kit's tiny shoulders. "N-Nicky... I..." He trailed off. With a low cry, he pulled the stunned kit to his chest, squeezing him in a savage embrace. "I love you so much, Nick. I want you to know that."

Instantly, Nick wrapped his arms around his father. He was bewildered, but he wouldn't refuse a hug. "I know. Of course you do, you're my dad. I love you too."

The big, warm adult sobbed, squeezing Nick even tighter. His gentle baritone sent pleasant vibrations right down the cub's body. But his words delivered a horrible chill with them also. "Oh, shit... I'm so sorry! I can't believe this..."

"What's wrong?" Nick started to feel very unsettled. His father got drunk all the time, that was nothing unusual, but why was he acting like this? "Dad! You're scaring me!"

His father separated them, meeting his son's eyes at last. He was crying openly now. Nick could see the matted fur and redness that indicated it wasn't the first time that night. "I'm sorry..."

Nick stepped backwards. "D-dad, what's wrong?"

The grownup shook his head despairingly. "I love you more than anything. You're the best thing that ever happened to me." He threw the empty vodka bottle at the dirty couch. "I don't deserve you."

Nick retreated some more. "Dad... no..."

"I called them, Nick. They'll be here at seven. They didn't want me to let you know."

Whirling around, Nick grabbed at the door handle. It rattled noisily but never budged. Shocked, he spun back to face his father with wide, terrified eyes.

"I'm sorry, Nick."

A terrible weight descended on Nick like an iron blanket. "Dad, please, no!" the kit sobbed. "Open the door! We can run away."

The grownup shook his head.

Panic and despair overwhelmed Nick, but they overwrote one another. He needed to flee, but he wanted to curl up and cry. He didn't want it to be real. This had to be a nightmare. It had to be. He'd had believable nightmares before. His dad would never do this. Not when he'd been so happy to see him! He wouldn't give him up! Not like this...

The small window by the door was closed. His father had locked him in the motel room. Trapped him.

Wait, maybe back in the bedroom!

Gasping, Nick sprinted back to the bedroom. He ripped the curtains aside and tried to open the window desperately. Tears started to streak down his cheeks and he was wailing aloud, but the window never cared. With a shriek, he raised a paw and smashed it into the glass. Though there was a loud bang, the window itself never budged.

"No!!" he yelled. He couldn't be trapped! But just he raised both his arms above his head, strong paws reached past him and took him by his wrists. "NO! Let me go!! Dad, stop it!!"

He was pulled over the bed, backwards. Though he fought to get some kind of footing, his dad easily dragged him off the bed and onto the floor.

"Nick, stop! Don't do this..." The grownup was barely coherent over his own crying. "Don't make this harder..."

How could he say that?!

Nick struggled some more, but his father crossed his skinny arms in front of him, pulled him close and sat down on the filthy carpet, dragging the boy down with him. Nick tried to break free, to stand up, but his arms were pinioned easily, and his dad's longer legs wrapped around his own. He couldn't fight. Couldn't get free.

He wasn't strong enough. The adult held him fast, as if his struggling was as nothing.

"Dad, noooo!" wailed Nick as his father held him tightly. "I don't want them to take me away again! I wanna stay with you!"

His father shushed him, squeezing him tighter in this restraining hug from behind. "Nick, don't... please don't do this."

"No..." It was hopeless. Nick slowly rested his head on his father's arm. He couldn't stop the crying though. "Dad... I don't wanna go. Don't, they'll make me go back! They'll hurt me! Please! I don't want to!"

"Please, Nick... this could be the last time we ever see each other. Don't make this so hard. We don't have much time."

"... I hate you!" Nick sobbed. "Why?!"

"I had to, Nick... oh by all the fuckin' gods in all the heavens, I wouldn't have done this if I didn't need to. I can't kidnap you, Nick! I don't want--I don't w-want you to live like that. I'm a terrible parent! I didn't protect you from your cunt of a mother; I'm a useless drunk." He gave the kit a brief squeeze, this one powerful enough to wind him. "I'm doing this because I love you. I love you too much to--to keep you for myself."

Nick didn't care. He cried softly to himself while his father cuddled him.

"You'll be better off eventually, I know you will..." the grownup sniffed. "You're a bright boy. A good boy. Whoever you end up with will be the luckiest parents in the world."

"I don't want the luckiest parents," choked Nick, his voice cracking violently. "I-I want my dad..."

"I know." Nick's father rocked him slightly. Trying in vain to comfort his son. "I know. But you can't have him."

Unable to flee, Nick could only spend his time between then and when 'they' finally knocked on the door crying while his father held him close. Desperately taking in the affection and closeness he could, from the one person he loved, while there was still time. There was no point fighting anymore. It had been done. The decision had been made.

It was over. His dad didn't want him anymore. It didn't matter what Nick wanted.

When they came, only a few minutes past seven, without hesitation, his father let them in.

The 'runaway' was taken without a struggle.

There was no point in fighting.

The choice had been made without him.

---

Nick curled up on the couch, staring unseeingly at the large television screen with slightly reddened eyes. Gary had thoughtfully provided him with a blue woolen blanket and turned the heating up for him before quickly moving off to the laundry. Nick could hear the adult making noise in that room behind the couch, and it set his nerves on edge.

Gary had sought out the most interesting possible channel to occupy the boy while he dried the other set of clothes he'd bought. Nick was glad for the blanket - not only was it cold, but Gary had seen him very much naked only the night before. Now that the trauma had ebbed away enough for him to think about it, Nick was horribly embarrassed. Worse than that; he'd looked like an utter pussy in front of both him and the doc.

On the couch in the middle of the den, with the grownup nearby yet out of his sight, Nick felt exposed and couldn't bring himself to relax at all. When Gary suggested cleaning his room, returning it to the state it had been when he arrived, Nick didn't want to start a fight, so he agreed - he felt strange. Off-balance, somehow. He just felt like shit. Yet, as much as it made him nervous, being out here with Gary lurking behind him, not some dozen paces away, was better than the alternative.

For some reason, he didn't want to be alone right now.

The television show was about fighter jets and missiles, and Nick found the occasional explosions interesting. He understood almost nothing of what they said, and occasionally the screen would be filled by writing, which the overly-enthusiastic narrator referred to as 'lethal statistics', but of course Nick couldn't read it. There were numbers, though without context he made no meaning of those either. Bored, he eventually tried adding the numbers all up before the show cut away.

There were footsteps from behind the couch.

"Any good?" he heard Gary ask.

Nick shifted slightly. "I guess..."

"Cool." Gary rounded the sofa and placed some bundles of fabric on the other end, down near Nick's paws. "There we go. Fresh out of the dryer. They're warm if you want to put them on! I'll get started on your room, okay?"

"Yeah."

Humming to himself, Gary went upstairs. Nick squirmed under the blanket and tried to focus on the television again.

The show eventually took a commercial break, and Nick sighed. Those were even more boring.

The kit listlessly turned onto his back. He stared down the length of his own blanket-ensconced body, eyeing the bundle of clothing at the other side of the sofa.

He couldn't be bothered getting dressed yet.

Despite the rest he'd managed to get, Nick still felt exhausted. He'd stayed up all that night to meet with Adam, then not gotten any sleep at all throughout the next day. Yet last night, he'd barely scrounged three hours, and none of it restful. He turned his head and stared at the television unthinkingly. A yawn split his muzzle.

Last night still felt like a dream. Nick was so totally confused.

As he expected, this time, things were very different. But in so many ways, it was just the same as before.

When he'd been taken away the first time, he was angry. Bitter. Sad. He only knew he hated everyone and everything. Scared and confused, he lashed out, seeing everyone who tried to take control of his life as an accessory to the injustice; an unwelcome intruder. Those he was placed with complained, each and every one of them, that they couldn't handle Nick's unpredictable, explosive attitude.

All except one, that is. How long Nick had stayed with him, he didn't remember. It was a dark, murky time he'd tried so hard to forget about. His foster parents had been heavy handed with him before, but this was different. It was like an old nightmare to him now, almost nothing but vague emotional memories of fear and dull hopelessness.

It was clear what the guy wanted to do. The monster withdrew Nick from school and set about trying to bend Nick to his will, tear down his spirit. It worked. In a way, Nick forgot who he was - he felt dead inside every minute of every day, eternally grateful for just a moment of loneliness. To know he was safe.

It was amazing Nick managed to work up the will to flee, when he realized nobody was going to save him. Then the hard realities of the street and the supportive environment of the house helped rebuild that attitude. His defenses. His personality. Together, his 'friends' showed him what it meant to be tough. How to fight for himself. How to laugh at the assholes who tried to run his life and tell them to fuck off, because he was in charge of himself now. He was stronger for it now, right?

No. Not really.

The truth was that he was just as powerless. Just as bitter. Just as angry. Deep down he was still scared, and he knew it. Still hurting. Nothing had changed.

This time, things were different, but how much so, really? He had promised his counselor he would try to make this placement work, to fight his own fears, at least for a little while, but the very instant the coyote left him alone he got scared. Like an idiot, he lashed out. But Gary was nothing like his previous foster parents, and Nick thought things were at last going alright. He was keeping himself under control.

It wasn't true at all. Even when he was trying his best, it all just seemed to fall apart. He could see it in Gary's eyes at times. Heard it in his voice the night before: the grownup was already sick of him. Sick of the psycho kid, just like they'd all been before.

Yet he walked into Nick's room and said he wanted Nick to stay with him for longer.

What the fuck was going on?!

Once again trying to blank out his yammering thoughts, Nick lost track of time. Soon, he heard a grownup's paws descending the stairs and he refocused on the present. Gary was returning.

However, Gary went straight into the kitchen and started to screw around in there instead. Nick kicked his blanket down a little and scooted closer to the armrest, his bare chest exposed as he tried to look into the kitchen.

He could make nothing out, so he sighed and lay back again, resting his head on the soft armrest.

Picking up the remote, he switched channels on the television, barely registering what came onscreen before hitting the button again.

Again, he lost track of time and dropped the remote. Spacing out.

Sometime later, Gary called out to him, walking into the den himself. Nick sat up again. A powerful scent had entered the room, and Nick found himself salivating.

The adult simply walked over to his recliner, seating himself. He carried two small plates. The grownup put one down on his recliner's armrest, before holding the other out to Nick.

The strange object on it was clearly the source of the smell. Nick had to swallow. "What the fuck is that?" Upon the plate was a strangely shaped piece of bread. It was puffed up, almost as if inflated somehow, and melted cheese oozed vulgarly from its sides.

Gary winked. "Smells awesome, right? If you ask me, the classiest of bachelor food: croissant with cheese, ham and pepper. Stuffed in the oven instead of the microwave for that extra class." Nick hesitated. "Trust me, no way in hell are you not gonna like it."

After a pause, Gary put the plate down on the sofa's armrest.

Nick fought away the sudden urge to angrily smack the plate to the floor. He hated when furs did that to him! Gary had done it before, with that fucking bag of chicken. But somehow he got the feeling Gary wasn't trying to force him to take it or anything like that. Besides, he really didn't feel like starting a fight right now.

Gary bit into his own, watching the kit expectantly.

Nick eyed the piece of bread... What the fuck had Gary called it again? Part of him told him to leave it, to not accept it. He hadn't asked for it. But he was hungry.

At last, he sighed. Fuck it. What was the point anymore?

Curiously, he lifted it up. It was hot, cooked in the oven as Gary had said. After scowling at it for a moment, he bit into it. It flaked in his muzzle, and the crispy flakes seemed to almost melt upon contact with his tongue. His eyes widened briefly as the thing proved to taste as strong as it smelled. In surprise he pulled it away from his muzzle. "Mmh?!" he mumbled. "Shit!"

"Good, isn't it?" Gary grinned massively. A satisfied grin. Nick hadn't even thought about it, but Gary had - that was the first time he'd got the kit to take something from his paws, more or less, and eat it in front of him. Not just leaving it at his door and walking away. "They're terrible for you if you eat too many, though. They're like ninety per-cent butter."

Nick somewhat sheepishly bit into it again. "What'sh this shit called?" he mumbled, mouth very obviously full.

Gary watched on as the flakes and crumbs tumbled to the kit's exposed chest and stomach. He swallowed and munched on his own again. "It's, uh, a croissant. It's French for 'crescent', because it's a sort of crescent shape." He chuckled. "Good, huh? I always keep a few lying around. I try to not eat them too much; like with beer, you know? Not good for you, can make you fat as hell."

Swallowing the mouthful, Nick briefly looked up at the grownup. "... Then what do you drink?"

"Oh. Vodka, mostly."

Nick nodded slowly. "I like vodka."

"Like bourbon more?"

"Yeah." Nick finished off his croissant. He had to admit he liked it. In fact, he hadn't had anything like it before.

Gary nodded. "Not a fan of it myself, honestly. The taste is freakin' weird."

The kit gave a shrug.

After a slight hiatus, Gary sighed. "Well, nothing to do today, really..." he grumbled. "Want to watch something? A movie?"

As Nick tried to think about the offer, Gary's cell phone started to ring, a shrill ululation that came from the grownup's pants.

Mildly surprised, Gary withdrew the device and hit the button to answer the call. "Hello?"

Nick watched on while Gary's expression slowly became sober.

In only a minute, Gary canceled the call and put the phone away. "Well... looks like the doc wants to come around tomorrow. He says he might as well do the weekly check-in as well as... talk to you about what happened yesterday."

Nick felt a chill, and he slowly lowered his croissant. "... Fuck that."

"I know."

"He's gonna bring the cops."

"... Maybe. He didn't say."

Gary felt his heart stop. Nick gazed at the wall, his eyes haunted.

"You'll be fine, Nick. I promise."

Karen sighed at her laptop, clicking through her employer's appointments for the month.

"Afternoon, Karen," Czejak murmured, pushing his door open. "Had lunch yet?"

"Not yet." The lapin tapped her nose with a pen. "I'm going to meet a few of my classmates later in the afternoon for it. We've got a study group to organize."

"Oh, that's right. Exams soon?"

"Very." Karen sighed again, dropping the pen and lifting up her coffee. "I despise exams."

Czejak nodded, putting down a sealed legal-sized envelope. "I know the feeling. I just hope I don't end up losing you when you get that degree, Karen. I've seen the wages legal secretaries get, and I doubt the force of my personality alone could keep you here."

The rabbit smiled, brushing back her long ears. "I doubt I'll be seeing any better offers for some time, doctor. You'll have to do without me for at least some time though - I'm going to need two weeks off next month."

"I know, it's no problem. I may even shut down the clinic and focus more on my social work." Czejak smiled and took out his wallet. "In fact, here." He carelessly dropped two hundred dollar bills onto the desk. "Have a bonus."

Karen's eyes bugged. "Oh, wow! Um, I-I don't know if I should accept, Andrei."

"You should." The coyote laughed. "If it makes it any easier, how's this? You know the phrase, 'penny for your thoughts'? Well, there's a few hundred for more specific thoughts. I'm wondering if you could offer me any advice."

"I can certainly try, Andrei." Karen laughed happily.

Grinning, the coyote put his paws on his hips. "Well, you know that Davis boy? The cheetah?"

"Him again?!" An exaggerated roll of the eyes. "What's he up to now?"

"Oh yes, him still. Well, long story short... he got involved in a bit of trouble, and I know that I have to report the incident to the police - I've already taken too long in doing so."

Karen gave a sad sigh. "Already?" she asked sadly.

"No, no, not that. He was assaulted - it really wasn't his fault. But involving the police will be traumatic for him, and could make him very uncomfortable in a place I very much want him to feel comfortable; as much as he can be."

"I see. If you make the report, the police can interview him with a younger female, that's usually standard for younger subjects."

"Which won't work. Nick's opinions of police don't differentiate between males or females." Czejak scratched his head. "That aside, his opinions of older females are a little murky - murkier if they're in authority."

"Maybe he can make a written statement. As his social worker, you can likely keep his interactions with the police to a minimum, provided it's clear you're doing it to protect him, not sway his statement."

Czejak nodded. "That's a fantastic idea, but the boy can't write. How's a recorded verbal statement going to stand up?"

"That's iffy. Either might suffice for the statement but the police will have further questions."

"True. They won't get any answers though. Nick understands the link between his attackers and his friends..." The coyote scratched his muzzle thoughtfully. "Even though these furs attacked him, it'll be interesting to see if he provides any details at all. This is all a waste of time - just a necessary formality, and all it's going to do is upset an already distressed child." He lifted his wallet and glanced at it. "Sometimes it isn't so clear what's the right thing to do."

"Usually it isn't," Karen agreed, tapping herself on the nose again with her pen. "But you won't be helping anyone if you get into trouble over this formality - as ludicrous as it may be."

Briefly closing his eyes, the psychologist nodded. "Can you... help me out with this at all? I know it's not in your job description. I only need to know what I can get away with here."

"I'll do what I can, Andrei. If we're lucky, they'll take a recorded statement, but I doubt the police won't insist on an interview." Karen frowned. "Has he really managed to avoid giving the police any details on where his friends are?"

The counselor chuckled. "When they first caught him, they knew who he was, more or less. See, from what I can tell, thieving is less about stealth and daring swordfights, more about sticking what you want in your pants and hoping you weren't seen; if you were, it's time to run down the street, knowing that after a few feet most security guards don't bother anymore."

"Not so romantic when you put it that way."

"Crime usually isn't all that romantic." Czejak shot her a bright smile. "After he stopped swearing and threatening, Nick just didn't say anything. So they put the pressure on him - you really don't want to hear his interview tapes."

Karen nodded grimly. "I can imagine. That's why lawyers are supposed to be present, especially for minors. It's a right."

"Well, you see, they failed to tell Nick that he had those rights." The coyote paused, looking slightly disgusted. "Not unheard of, to say the least. Anyway, when they started pushing, he stayed silent. Ignored all their threats and attempts to make 'friends.' But when one of the officers suggested they would have to be in the area where Nick was caught, trying to scare him, Nick just laughed in his face and said they had driven there - so his friends were actually miles away."

"Do you believe that?"

"Not really. Do you really think Nick's friends could afford a car? I wouldn't call Nick deliberately manipulative, not as a general rule. He doesn't have the... stability; he'd sooner fight than lie, and that aside he's relatively honest. But he is a very intelligent boy, very streetwise. If he needs to, he can think on his feet." Czejak's smile grew even broader. "Sometimes, it works. The police wasted their time looking for a non-existent vehicle."

"Chasing transient street kids isn't easy. But these ones have a fixed address they're managing to keep secret - that's impressive. Their lives must be pretty interesting." After a moment, the pen escaped Karen's paws, hitting her neatly organized desk with a clatter and rolling off the edge. "Oh, crud!"

"I'll get it," offered Czejak, dropping his wallet to the desktop before kneeling.

As he did, Karen found herself looking at her boss's wallet - she was not usually unduly nosy, but something had caught her eye. A small passport sized photograph was kept in the compartment usually reserved for a driving license. A small, wiry boy, a canid of some kind, with a happy expression and wide eyes, stared back at her. Just beneath it, jutting slightly out past it, was another picture - Karen couldn't tell, but it seemed to be another youth.

Though she knew Czejak had pictures of his patients and such, they were usually on the corkboard in the back room. Not only to help Czejak to remember their names and issues, but because Karen knew the coyote took his job more than seriously - he cared deeply about every single one of them, as far as she could tell.

In fact, Karen had to admit she was just a little bit in awe of her employer.

Czejak handed her the pen. When he noticed that the little picture had been in clear view of his secretary he laughed.

"I never knew you adopted," Karen murmured.

"Oh no. I didn't. Dear God, what a disaster that'd be." Czejak lifted the leather object up and snapped it closed. "The picture's just there to remind me."

Karen blinked. "Remind you?"

"Yes. To do the right thing. Not the easy one."

Nick sighed, again changing channel. About half an hour ago, after the impromptu breakfast, Gary had vanished upstairs again to continue 'fixing up' Nick's room. Leaving Nick alone.

The kit was actually sad to see Gary put down his plate and leave. The television was so fucking boring, he'd rather talk to Gary. Gary was pretty chill for a grownup.

He tried to not think about Czejak and the police, but that left him with very little his crazy brain did want to think about.

The news came on, and Nick rolled his eyes. The news was never interesting. It was always full of shit that didn't matter to him. Gary had over one hundred channels of television available and all of it was bullshit at the moment. Groaning, Nick dropped the remote to the carpet.

"Fuck this," he grumbled, kicking the blanket down to his ankles, restlessness finally getting to him. He decided to put his clothes on and go for a walk about the house.

However, once again he heard someone descending the stairway in the center of the house. Stupidly, he froze rather than pulling the blanket up again.

Gary cheerily made his way down the stairs again, and promptly turned into the den. "Okay," he announced. "That's all that done." The grownup wandered into the den, stopping dead when he spotted Nick. "Oh! Shit, sorry man!"

The kit swallowed, then shook his head. "Wh-whatever." He reached down and yanked the blanket back up.

Flustered, Gary looked away. "Uh. Yeah. Well... want to put a movie on or anything?" The grownup smiled slightly. "Otherwise, I'm stuck on my ass all day with some video game."

"A'ight." Nick stared at the carpet.

"Uh, d-do you want me to go away for a minute so you can get your clothes on?"

Nick stared over at his clothing, his expression becoming a mildly annoyed frown. After the humiliating previous day where Gary had seen him naked and utterly pitiful, Nick didn't feel like exposing himself again any time soon; but at the same time, he had to ask what the point was. Gary had seen him naked already. Underpants were an improvement.

Either way, Nick wasn't going to take the offer. Fuck that, it'd just make him feel even more pathetic. Better to let Gary see than to accept the grownup's suggestion and look like a pussy again. He shook his head.

"Okay." Gary smiled a little. Almost instinctively, he nearly asked if the boy was feeling alright, before a little voice in his head warned him off. It did seem like he was getting to know the kit a little better, but at the same time he still wondered how much of his 'progress' was due to luck so far.

He sat down on the opposite side of the den, getting comfortable on his recliner.

The news droned on and on. Gary tried to pay some attention to it. He and the kit quietly watched.

It was all the typical crap that Gary either didn't care about or could get more accurate information on via the internet. The market was doing alright; a politician was caught in a scandal; a new fad in sports-wear had been exposed as a hoax...

This was why he never watched television live anymore. With recorded TV and the internet at his disposal, it was never worth sifting through the nonsense for entertainment. After all, with all the real problems he had, why should he let the television invent new ones for him?

A deep voice issued from the speakers: "When we return - are our children going sex-crazy?"

The screen cut to a view of a female cercal sitting behind an elaborate desk. "These are just children," she declared in powerful accent. "They can't understand the adult world. Especially not sex - how can a kid of fourteen possibly know whether they're homosexual or not? They're not even legally considered intelligent enough to go swimming without supervision."

Oh no.

Now a male, an older jackal, took the screen. "Definitely, our cubs are going sex-mad today. They're being sexualized early by the media - teen pregnancy and 'sexting' are becoming our biggest national emergency, and we never talk about it."

"More after the break!"

Nick's ears had laid right back, resentment already clear on his face.

Thinking quickly, Gary just laughed shortly. "Ignore them, Nick. It's all you can do."

"What?"

The grownup shrugged. "Ignore them. They're talking shit just to get a book sold, or push some religious agenda. This is a kinda right-wing television station; I like it for the brainless shows on tanks and exploding buildings. Not for the idiotic comments their talk-show hosts spew."

Nick looked away with a hiss.

Contemplatively, Gary tried to peer at the boy's face. Suddenly he had an idea.

It was time for a calculated rant.

"It's bullshit, Nick," he began. "I mean, look. For one thing, teen pregnancy rates are going down, have been for years; and sexting is just the same harmless fooling around that kids have done for centuries, only now jack-offs like Professor Sandy-crotch there, with her Ph.Ds in Moral Bitchology and Retardeopathy, have computer evidence of it and wanna use it as an excuse to throw these kids in jail, or fucking up their lives over a picture of their own body. You know, getting charged with child porn for having a picture of yourself in the shower."

Slowly, Nick looked over at him, his expression oddly confused. "The fuck...? That's bullshit."

"They're just using it as an excuse to make a big deal out of it - again. And see? The guy just throws the word 'sexualized' in there like that because he's trying to slip you the idea that god-damn fifteen-year-olds aren't sexual already. See? 'We never talk about it' - bull_shit_, guys like him never shut up about it!" Gary gestured at the screen. "It's all bullshit, and you just have to watch for the little things that give them away. That's how the news always works. That's how the world works."

Nick looked back at the television. He seemed a little bewildered.

"I was your age once too, you know. Why the fuck is it a big deal? It's not my business, it's definitely not theirs and it's not even close to being a national emergency when hundreds of thousands a year are dying to drunk drivers and cigarettes. A lot of fucking idiots think the way the television tells them to - but yeah, that's why they're fucking idiots."

The kit fell silent, but his ears had perked.

"This stuff isn't a big deal," Gary concluded, having warmed up to his role. "They just want it to be, so they can keep pushing their own fucking agenda. Their own idea of what's right and wrong - which doesn't say anything about staying out of other's private business."

Though Nick remained quiet, Gary knew it was probably a better idea to put something more interesting on. What was coming next on the news was likely to piss both him and the kid off.

Though he was sure his workmates would agree that was one of his better short rants.

As the adult got up to put something on, Nick finally moved. He pulled the blanket off to the side and sat up, reaching for the clothes down by his paws. Surprised, Gary found himself watching as the kit struggled to pull on the khaki ¾ pants, arching his hips and looking resolutely away.

Nick flopped down and did up the fly. Sighing, he raised his hips again, reaching behind for the tail-fly. Gary quickly returned his gaze to the DVD player.

When he chose a disc and turned, Nick had sat up against the armrest, one leg drawn up to his chest, the other stretched before him. He was holding the hooded shirt in his paws, messing with it rather than seeming in a rush to put it on. Evidently, it was covering his lower-half that was more important to him.

The kit stared at his foot-paws, specifically at the plastic object clinging to his ankle. He lightly brushed a skinny arm, seemingly lost in thought. "Happy now?" he grumbled softly.

Gary suddenly flushed. "O-oh, I just thought you wouldn't want... I mean, you can wear whatever you want, Nick. I don't mind."

The kit gave another half-hearted grunt.

"Uhh... Nick?" Gary enquired. The kit merely grunted. "How about some more of that comedian? The guy we watched before?"

Nick nodded.

After Gary had slipped the disc in and almost made it back to the recliner, Nick fidgeted. Merely shifted a little.

Gary had no idea how he managed to read it. "Want a drink, right?"

A belated nod.

"Alright, it's a bit early. Not too much, okay? You'll be sick as hell." Gary ambled to the kitchen, checking the clock. It was six in the afternoon. It wasn't too early, he supposed. After all, they'd both been up since dawn.

When he returned with a small glass of cola and bourbon in one paw, his own drink in the other, he saw Nick's ear twitch.

Gary sat down, taking a libation from his vodka-spiked cola.

Nick sipped thoughtfully. Then he snorted. "Praying at the porcelain altar."

"What?" Gary laughed. "What was that?"

"Puking in the toilet - coz it's made of that porcelain stuff." Nick sipped again. "It's what Chris used to call it."

"Oh, shit, that's a good one!" Gary almost spilled his drink. Incredibly, Nick gave a half-smile and another snort. That brought the total amount of smiles Gary had got from him to about three. From now on, he decided to keep count.

The video started, and it went almost the way it had before. Nick slowly warmed to it, breaking out of his traditional melancholic, standoffish mood. Gary was quite happy to supply him with another drink some time later - however, he made sure it was slightly weaker.

Whether it was the vodka or the high temperature he'd set the thermostat to for the kit earlier, Gary wasn't sure. However, he found himself flushed under his fur, and the sounds of the delinquent boy's laughs and dirty-minded snickering were giving him the most unusual feeling. He glanced again at the kit.

Nick pulled the blanket back over his body. "This guy's funny," he said simply. "How many more have you got?"

"Oh." Gary shook his head. "Just this one. But don't worry, this one's about four hours long in total."

"Cool."

"I've got other stuff too; I just watch standup comedy whenever I just want something funny to watch right away, you know?" Gary took a big gulp of his spiked cola. "Something that doesn't take too much thought. Just to distract me for awhile - always got too much to think about. My brain never shuts up long enough for me to enjoy a movie."

The boy raised his glass, looking at the grownup curiously. "Why?"

"Work, mostly." Gary groaned and shifted on the recliner to better address the kit. "Too much crap. After a whole day of sorting out fuckups and trying to do my own job, last thing I need is to waste energy on a complex movie."

The boy nodded solemnly, but didn't comment, and they both returned their attention to the screen.

A minute later, Nick suddenly spoke. "Yo." Gary grunted quizzically. "What'll happen if the doc brings cops here?"

"I don't know. You're not in trouble, Nick." Gary sat up, returning the leg-rest of the recliner to the base with a loud whump. "Czejak just has to follow the rules to cover our asses - you know what that means?"

"Why?"

"Things'll get messy. Czejak might be accused of negligence - meaning he didn't do what he was supposed to and report it. So he was 'hurting' you by not doing it, even though you told him to not." Gary paused. "Or they might blame me, say it was my fault. Or even say it was me who did it and we're trying to cover it up. You never know."

"What the fuck? I'd tell them you didn't."

"Hate to say it this way, but when was the last time furs like them listened to you? People aren't very rational when kids are involved, Nick." The grownup scratched an ear. "Okay. If I got attacked, or whatever, it's up to me if I wanted to report it, usually. But you know these sorts of assholes - you're just a kid, you're not 'smart' enough to know whether or not you should report it. Czejak has to make sure they abso-fucking-lutely understand that you got attacked by random dickheads, and that you said you didn't want us to, but we reported it anyway. He's just covering all of our asses."

Nick sighed bitterly. Then he swore. "Fuckin' assholes."

"Huh? The guys who attacked you or the cops?"

The kit shook his head. "I'm not gonna tell them anything. Assholes." Suddenly, Nick angrily kicked down at the opposite armrest, making a loud thump. Gary winced. "Fuck!"

"It's alright, Nick, calm down. They're not here now - and they won't be able to do this to you forever."

"Fuckin' hate them all. It never fuckin' matters what I want."

Gary smirked. "They can't force you, Nick; you proved that. Still haven't told them where your friends are, right? So if the cops do come around here, just tell them you're not going to help them, you just wanna forget about it and you don't care about it. Don't fight them, don't argue with them. Just get rid of the bastards as soon as possible." Quickly, he moved on, wanting to head Nick off before he got too worked up - if possible. "Want another?" He held his empty glass up.

"... Yeah."

With a grin, Gary got to his paws.

Two hours later, the comedian's performance was over, to Nick's disappointment. Gary froze the video and stretched.

"There are a few other shows he does on this disc," he informed the kit. "If you want, you can keep watching. I've been up since six or something, so I'm gonna go crash."

"A'ight." Nick rubbed at his eye.

"You might wanna sleep though. If you can." Gary stepped around the sofa. "Czejak's coming tomorrow, and you know how early he always is."

The boy nodded.

"Okay, good night, Nick."

"... Night."

As the adult slipped upstairs, Nick gave a sigh.

It was cool to have someone to chill with who wasn't a psycho or an asshole. Oh, and to have access to some booze again.

Draining the rest of his cup, aware that this would be his final drink for the night, Nick sat back and stared at the television, the warm glow from which was the only light in the room. Its high-pitched whine coupled with the whirring sound of the spinning disc in the player...

This was a familiar situation, so he savored it for some time.

Every night used to be like this, when his friends went to sleep, leaving him in the den. Sometimes Chase would stay with him. Sometimes they'd share a blanket.

The television was always on, at least until he was sure he could sleep. Unless he passed out. Because it was too quiet otherwise; being alone at night after spending much of his time with his friends could be unnerving. He didn't like to be alone anymore. Really, he never had. When his friends were up and with him, he could be the life of the drunken, stoned party... but at night, he kinda got, well, afraid. Not that he ever told them that. The television would help though - masked the strange sounds of the night and kept him company.

Once, when he was drifting to sleep at last and the television was off, a carelessly placed beer bottle fell from a table in the kitchen. Nick had leapt to his paws with one hell of an embarrassing scream. It took very little to wake Nick. Sleep was hard enough to attain, but anything... even apparently nothing... could wake him up and prevent him falling asleep again.

Nick threw back the blanket and stood. His balance flitted away for a moment, and he tried to convince himself it was because he had been sitting down for so long. When he recovered, the kit snagged the remote from where Gary had left it and un-paused the video. He wasn't going to watch it, not really - he just wanted the company, so to speak.

It wasn't cold, since Gary had cranked the thermostat up, so Nick threw his t-shirt at the couch.

With Gary off to bed, Nick felt like it was time to actually move around a little. He'd spent literally the whole day on his ass on that couch, wrapped in a blanket. His bare paws tingled from the feel of the plush carpet as he padded his way to the kitchen - the transition to the linoleum felt enjoyably weird.

He'd spent little time in the kitchen, so he decided to look around in the darkness. Not for anything specifically, just for the hell of it. He wanted to wander.

As usual, he had a list of things he didn't want to think about, but that just meant his fuckwit of a brain would keep trying to come back to them. One thing he was curious about though was what Gary had said over an hour ago.

It had been like what Czejak once said. Though in a really different way! Czejak almost never swore or anything; it was cool that Gary didn't talk to him like a stuffy-ass adult. Nick wasn't stupid - he knew that grownups spoke like that too. Spoke the way he did sometimes. His father did with his friends, and his older friends; the guards at the center too. But whenever they spoke to him, they treated him like an idiot; told him off for swearing, as if he had to give a shit what they thought just because he was smaller than them, and pretty much made themselves look like assholes. Chris had taught him the word 'hypocrite' and Nick had found an incredible amount of applications for it when dealing with smug adults.

Maybe even Chris himself. That was one of the things he filed under 'didn't want to think about.'

But still, what Gary said sort of surprised him. Maybe he was telling the truth: maybe he really did understand why Nick did what he did. That it wasn't some big deal. Nick guessed it shouldn't be so surprising really. Gary was picked by Czejak probably because they had similar ideas on all sorts of stuff.

Shrugging, Nick tugged open the fridge and went straight for the cheese slices. There were only four left, but Nick didn't even think about it; he grabbed all four.

He caught sight of the time displayed on the microwave. It wasn't late at all, but he was exhausted already. Could he possibly sleep tonight? Tomorrow could be horrible; if Czejak was gonna involve the police, it could take Nick one wrong word and he'd fuck everything up - again. Once more... something he wished he could forget about.

... Fuck, it pissed him off! He didn't even have words for what it did to him, to hear all those different assholes telling him about how they were 'protecting' him and 'helping' him... often, exactly as Gary had said, they admitted they didn't give a shit about what he wanted, if he wanted their idea of 'help.' But they were fucking lying! Yeah, right: they cared so much about protecting him that he'd been locked away in a horrible place; he got hit by almost every single one of his foster-parents before they'd decided to get rid of him. They didn't care about him at all, that was obvious. They just wanted to make him do what they wanted.

Liars and assholes.

With his snack in paw, Nick headed back to the lounge. Back towards the sounds of cheering and laughter as the comedian took the stage again in a different location. He stuffed a slice in his muzzle and watched for a moment.

He almost snorted the cheese out through his nose after the next joke.

Wandering some more, briefly venturing into the pungent smelling laundry, Nick finally sighed and returned to 'his' couch. He sat down heavily and wrapped the blanket around his slender shoulders again. Walking around like that, working off some of his restlessness, usually gave him time to think; but too much was in his head now. His muddled brain flitted from one problem to another.

Frustrated, he flopped backwards onto the couch

Tomorrow, he would have to deal with Czejak - he always looked forwards to seeing his counselor again, but not if he'd brought any cops with him. He just wanted to forget what Adam did anyway... just thinking about the slick, disgusting chemical that had coated his body made him shudder. Besides, they wouldn't catch Adam. Like most of the fuck-heads that screwed Nick over, he was going to get away with it completely. It was just something he had to live with.

Thankfully, the hilarious video managed to distract him, and Nick found himself laughing and slowly chewing on strips of cheese.

The distraction served for several hours, and when finally every single performance had played the video returned to the menu. Nick stared listlessly at it for several minutes though half-open eyes. Tired and a little drained from the alcohol, Nick made his decision.

To at least try and sleep.

The lithe boy kicked off the couch and clambered to his paws, disentangling himself from the blanket. Quickly, he hit the play button again on the remote control and the video started up again.

He turned the volume down slightly, and lay back on the couch. Grunting and swearing to himself, the kit pulled over his pillow and crammed it under his head, hugging it to his body tightly.

Nick got comfortable and prepared to watch the video again. Hopefully, it could help him drift off to sleep for a few hours. He doubted, even in this warm, familiar situation, that he would sleep long enough for Gary to wake him. That was a risk, but he had to take it.

... What was Czejak going to do? Why was he coming up here again tomorrow? Was he finally going to answer any of Nick's real questions, or would he keep his secrets?

Why did he lie about how long Nick was supposed to be in Wilder Springs? The coyote had ducked Nick every time he asked. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't believe his counselor had done that! Nick had trusted him - he was the only adult with answers for Nick, and he'd lied about the most important of them all. A flash of sour anger made the kit's heart beat a little faster.

Why the fuck did the coyote do that?!

"Guh," Nick grumbled quietly, crushing his pillow firmly. "Shut the fuck up. Just shut up."

These questions could be asked tomorrow... and Nick was not going to back down without his answers.

No. Fucking. Way.

The next morning, Nick was up well before the gray light of dawn, and he had sluggishly retreated to his room. Warily, he sat and stared through the open window of his bedroom, with only his chaotic thoughts for company. He watched and waited, struggling to silence those very thoughts.

'His' room had been restored to the way it was before. Gary had made the bed, and the stench of gasoline had been removed somehow. Even the greasy stain from the pizza had been erased. It all made Nick feel so strange, and he didn't know why. Though he'd grown to love the messier environment at his friends' house, Gary's cleanliness made him feel... well, he didn't have a word for it.

Maybe that was part of the problem, Nick supposed. It's hard to think straight when you have to keep stopping to wonder what the fuck the word for something was.

It was several hours, and the cool autumnal sun was well risen, before he saw the doc's fancy car pull in at the front of the house. Nick swallowed and watched the vehicle intently.

As it turned out, Czejak was the only fur Nick saw, through the closed window of his bedroom, get out of his car.

The kit breathed a sigh of relief, watching the coyote dash through the light rain towards the house's ornate front door.

So the police weren't involved yet. That was good.

Whenever they were, it was bad. Always. Nick hated the police vehemently. They took him from his father. Twice. They held him in place, threatening violence and restraint, while others decided his fate, and then at last delivered him to Wilder Springs. Living with his friends, every day they knew that discovery by the police could ruin everything - then they'd all go to jail, back into the foster system, or possibly worse. Before then, Nick had avoided them on the streets. They were soulless predators that wanted to hunt him down. Hunt him for stealing to survive, hunt him for daring to try and live his own life.

Since when had they ever done anything good for him?!

In a very real way, those uniformed assholes symbolized almost everything that Nick felt had screwed him over. They, and the suit-wearing bastards they stood beside, were responsible for nearly everything. At least, Nick thought so.

At this point, he wasn't so sure of anything anymore.

Much to his surprise, it was Gary who knocked on his door and poked his head in. His expression was very serious. "Nick? Czejak wants to see us both downstairs for a sec."

Nick nodded.

In only a minute, Nick found himself descending the stairway, garbed in his ¾ pants only. He had forgotten to pick his shirt up when he awoke, leaving it downstairs like an idiot. He slowly padded downstairs, mind blank and totally on autopilot. Whatever this was, it couldn't be good.

He joined the two adults in the lobby. Gary watched the coyote worriedly while the doc himself leafed through a small notepad. He seemed engrossed, but when he spotted Nick, he shot the kit a broad, happy grin.

"Good morning, Nick!" Czejak put the notepad away. "Oh my. You both look so anxious. I know this seems strange, but I just wanted to tell you both at the same time what we have to do."

"That still sounds ominous, doc," muttered Gary, crossing his arms.

"Not at all." Czejak found a way to grin even wider. "It's simple. This is, after all, an experiment. I just want to check in on you both, see how you're feeling. But to do that, I'll need to speak to you both privately." He paused. "This is not because I want to keep any secrets. It's just in case either of you aren't comfortable saying something about the other guy, you won't have to say it in front of him. Okay?"

"Right," Gary nodded.

Nick scowled. "Whatever."

"I'd like to speak with Gary first, Nick."

The coyote sighed, leaning up against the cold metal chassis of a disused washing machine. "I suppose your basement is as good a place to converse as any," he said resignedly.

Gary made sure the door was closed and descended the stairway. "It's the only soundproof door in the house, so if you want it to be private, this is all I can do."

"It's rather... musty down here."

"Doc!" sighed Gary plaintively. "It's not like I'm down here every day. Of course it's not up to my usual standard, okay?"

Czejak laughed. "Of course. I haven't been in my basement for over a year."

"Right, let's get started!" Once again Gary crossed his arms. "I've still got a few questions of my own, now that Nick is behind a soundproof door."

"I feared as much. You're not going to quit until you've gotten your answers?"

"Hell no."

Withdrawing his notepad again, Czejak scribbled something. "I suspect I'll be getting something similar from him too. Well, let's get started. How are things going?"

"Well, I guess. I'm not sure why, but a few days ago Nick became a lot more likely to spend time around me."

The coyote raised an eyebrow. "So, as if he was making an effort to... I suppose, get along better with you?"

"... Yeah." Gary frowned. "It was pretty surprising. He still won't sleep in his bed, and it wasn't too long ago that he wanted nothing to do with me. But he started being more open to spending time with me about a day or so before the attack."

"I'm not sure if I can explain why, but twelve days is a surprisingly long time to Nick. Who knows what you could've said or done to change his way of thinking."

"There has to be more to it than that. There's still no way we're going to get any kind of relationship in three weeks, Andrei. He's really only just now started tolerating talking to me."

"Lord no, three weeks is an unreasonable time-frame to expect glue to bond with a piece of paper." Czejak scratched his ear and frowned. "But you're not seeing it yet? It took me a month to get Nick to even speak with me. I'm not sure what you've done, but he seems to have developed a rapport with you in an amazingly short period of time. It's incredible."

Gary shook his head. "I think I have an idea. At least about some of it. Came to me last night."

"Oh?"

"Well... everyone's always talking down to him. Forcing what they think is right down his throat, and he's gonna dig in and fight them every step of the way. I mean, it's pretty obvious that's not what he needs or wants. Sure, he needs a bit of help, but you can't just run roughshod all over him - not after everything he's gone through. I guess if anyone wants to be Nick's parent, they have to be his friend first."

For a moment, Czejak just stared at him. "Exactly. Exactly, Gary. This is part of the point behind all this. It's what we're trying to measure and understand. We need to see how you bond with him, your attitudes towards him, shape your relationship. Nick views foster parents as a danger. He does need a parent, but he also needs to know he can trust that person! He needs to like him, and want to be with him; and know this is reciprocated. If his guardian isn't giving him the support and validation he needs, he's not going to be open to pleasing you, is he?"

One of Gary's eyebrows had shot up. "Me?"

"Oh, sorry. Speaking figuratively." Czejak scribbled some more.

"Don't let your excitement get the better of you, doc." Gary smiled slightly.

"I'll try." Czejak returned the smile. "Have you had any success in enforcing regular habits? Sleep schedules, meal times?"

Gary snorted. "Are you kidding me?! Even when he passes out to sheer exhaustion, I see him back up in about five hours. If I tried to force him to go to bed when I want him to he'll probably murder me in my sleep."

"I know, I just have to ask. Focus on building your relationship first. It is worth noting that structure and a few boundaries, getting Nick into some good habits, would be extremely beneficial though. If you can manage it."

A sour laugh issued forth from the cheetah's muzzle. "Oh, yeah? I've heard that shit before. 'Deep down, kids want boundaries and discipline.' Yeah, I'm sure, but there's no 'structure' for a kid who can't get his ass to bed for more than enough time to cook a turkey. Just flat-out trying to force him isn't going to work."

Czejak chortled. "When I was twenty-four, I discovered that I really quite liked my bed being made and going to sleep at a reasonable hour - I could get up nice and early for class. I've met many children who discovered this at the age of seven or so. I'm much older now, and yet many of my colleagues haven't made their bed since they got out of their parents' house."

"What're you getting at there, doc?"

The coyote shrugged. "Nothing really - just that we're all different, and we all need different rules. You seem fairly cognizant of Nick's feelings, so use your judgment."

"I don't know about that." Gary walked across the basement and hopped onto the dryer that had been collecting dust, alongside the washing machine Czejak leaned on, for God only knew how long. "But I do know that Nick would get royally pissed at me if I started ordering him around. One of the first things he said to me was 'don't tell me what to do, dickhead'."

"As expected, really. But the more he bonds with you, the more likely he'll agree to your rules, if you keep them fair and reasonable - we've discussed this before. He won't compromise, or, to his way of thinking, back down, without you earning his trust - I suspect you'll also have to compromise quite a bit yourself. That's what relationships are about, even the ones between child and parent." There was a brief pause. "Gary, how would you describe your feelings for Nick?"

The cheetah's heart stopped. He flushed beneath his fur. "H-how do you mean by that?" he stammered.

"You've had this boy in your care for two weeks now. What does he mean to you?" Czejak kept his face blank and non-judgmental.

"I..." Gary blinked a few times. "Shit, that's pretty direct."

"I thought you'd appreciate it."

Swearing quietly to himself, Gary stared at his paws. "Damn, I don't know. I-it's been just two weeks."

"I know. Say whatever comes to your mind, Gary. There's no wrong answer. We'll work through it all later."

So Gary thought for a moment. "Alright," he murmured. "I like him, Andrei. I've been sitting here in this god damn town in the middle of nowhere for years. Every day was the same - working, sleeping, occasionally eating - until he came along."

"You once said to me that you always wanted a younger brother. Does that have anything to do with your feelings towards him?"

"Oh, man," Gary groaned, closing his eyes. "No idea why I said that crap. No, I don't really think of him like that."

"How about as a friend?"

"... I guess. C'mon, doc, you know it's not that simple. Our relationship is going to be weird no matter what."

"Maybe. But you were right with what you said before. You have to become, more or less, his friend. Do you want to do that? Even if only for its own sake? Do you want Nick as a friend at least?"

The cheetah nodded slightly. "Been trying."

"That's a start. So you value his company? Like talking with him, for instance?"

Gary hesitated. "Yeah. Yeah, I do." Czejak was silent, waiting for more. "He's... not the little jerk I thought he was. At least not all the time. He's a good kid, and when he opens up, we kinda get along."

"I did tell you," teased the coyote, smiling and adjusting his warm sweater. "Now, here's an awkward one. What about-"

"No. No fucking way, Andrei." Gary interrupted sharply, laying his ears back. "You kidding?"

"I'm just asking for your thoughts and feelings on the matter. You know you can be honest about it."

"Trying to not think about it. It just isn't appropriate... I mean. You know. You gotta know better than anyone else."

Czejak shot him a warm look. "No problem. However, I would like to discuss it in the future. It is somewhat important, and we need to analyze where it fits into this, if at all." He scribbled a few more lines in his notepad, the basement suddenly falling silent but for his pen's scratching.

"Anyone ever asked to read your notes?" Gary asked in a subdued voice.

There was a short laugh. "Oh yes, but most find it very much illegible." The doctor showed his 'patient' the page. It appeared to be covered in incomprehensible scribbling. "It's short-hand. Nobody really learns it anymore. Sometimes, furs think I'm just doodling on the page. I have to assure everyone that they're not boring me."

They both chuckled, alleviating the tension somewhat.

Thankfully, when Czejak continued, he seemed to choose a different line of questioning. For the next quarter of the hour, the coyote subtly probed at Gary's feelings and expectations. Gently guiding the cheetah to examine the feelings of closeness and affection he was clearly fighting to deny.

As he did, he had to fight to keep a smile off his muzzle.

It seemed Gary had made a huge step forward in only a fortnight. It was likely for a great many reasons, Czejak noted, including his own involvement, and the stress of the detention center. Possibly even Nick's anxiety and fear of clashing with a tall grownup that reminded him of an abuser - though that in itself was most definitely not a good thing.

Overall, Czejak was amazed. Gary had done his best and Nick had too - the boy was keeping a lid on his usually volatile nature as well as he could.

After going though his long list of pre-prepared questions, Czejak checked his watch. It had been over half-an-hour. They had to hurry. "Alright," he said, tapping the rear of his pen on the notepad. "Do you have any questions for me?"

"Naturally." Gary frowned. "Some of them are pretty random though."

"Random?" Czejak chortled. He even wagged his tail briefly.

"Huh." With a sheepish chuckle, Gary averted his gaze. "Sorry."

"It's okay. Go on."

Gary thought hard, trying to recall his massive arsenal of questions. "You warned me about those long pauses he keeps doing. Can you explain why he does that? It's pretty strange at times."

Czejak grinned. "It may surprise you, but yes, I can. Sometimes, he's just lost in thought and loses track of time, but sometimes... well, imagine you've been brought up to pull your fingers away from the fire."

"Which I hope you have been also."

The psychologist nodded. "I'm pretty sure that's common practice still. You'd react instantly. But Nick has been raised differently; he has many preconceptions and habits, especially when it comes to social interaction. Many instinctive reflexes like that. When he pauses, it's because he doesn't know what to do. He's challenging those instincts. He's trying to put his paw into the fire, not flinch away without thought, the way he used to."

"Into the fire?"

"To him, yes. He's not ignoring you, he's doing the opposite. He's really trying his best, Gary, I can tell, so if you ask him something and he freezes up, just give him time and remind him if it seems like he's not going to answer. Not too pushily though, be patient. Certainly don't punish him. Anything else?"

"Definitely. Give me a minute to think. I had a list."

But Czejak moved on. "Are you still concerned Nick will damage your house or property?"

The cheetah snorted, scratching just below one of his black 'tears.' "Of course. Yesterday he destroyed a cordless phone. I don't even know when he did it, must've been while I was in the shower."

"How did you react to that?"

Gary shrugged. "He just brought the phone downstairs and ran into me. I think he wanted to put it back without letting me see it."

Immediately, the coyote straightened. "I see. Gary, I doubt he was trying to be deliberately deceptive or inconsiderate. More likely he expected you to be angry with him, so he didn't want a confrontation. It's like lying - punish a child for lying and he'll only lie more, get better at it. To protect himself."

"I know." For a moment, Gary looked about to cry. "Shit, you should've seen him. He was scared. Scared of me. I'm sure he could usually hide it, but for some reason... I d-don't understand."

"Yes, I can imagine. Nick has been 'punished' for a lot of his 'behavior.' Even when he regretted it already. He's only trying to protect himself - he likely expected you to hit or yell at him for breaking the phone."

Gary just nodded.

"How did you respond?"

"Uhh. I told him I wasn't happy he broke it. But that I wouldn't hurt him. I don't use it much anyway."

"Fair enough. I'll bet he already felt bad enough. I know how Nick acts when he doesn't give a damn about someone or their property, and it doesn't involve any sneaking." Czejak shook his head. "You're right though. Nick always puts on a brave face, always. I suspect he was badly stressed already from the attack - and I imagine he cares more about your opinion of him than he'll admit."

Instantly, Gary looked up and met the doctor's steady gaze. "What?"

"Don't quote me, but I think he's going to want to stay, Gary."

A nauseating chill permeated Gary's spine, and he stared in shock at the coyote.

"... Oh, fuck!"

When the adults got back from the basement, over an hour later, Czejak asked the younger of his subjects to go back downstairs with him.

As they walked towards the center of the big, underground grotto, Nick wrinkled his nose. "Shit, it still stinks down here."

The coyote grinned and sat upon his washing machine again. "I said that already. But it's private - nobody can hear what we say in here."

"Fuck." The kit growled, briefly rubbing his bare arms. "Alright."

"Is it cold?" Nick didn't reply. "You can have this pullover here if you like. I'm warm enough."

"I'm good."

Czejak laid aside his notepad. He knew Nick got apprehensive whenever he used it while they spoke.

"So, how's it been going?" he asked. "It's been nearly two weeks now. Are you and Gary getting along alright?"

Nick stood awkwardly in the middle of the basement, looking around uneasily at nothing in particular. He was feeling exposed, shirtless and standing in the middle of a large, open room. "... Yeah."

"Take a seat on something if you like, Nick. Gary and I just used these things."

The kit took a moment to consider it, and then he quickly sat on the stairs, putting his back to the wall. Between Czejak and the exit. He brought his knees up to his chest and drew in on himself slightly.

"Gary tells me you've been getting together a lot more recently." He smiled. "You guys had some fun together a few nights ago, didn't you?"

As always, it took some time before the boy replied. "Yeah. On that Gamestation thing."

"Did you enjoy it?"

An apathetic shrug. One Czejak wasn't so sure was genuine.

"Well, how are you feeling? Do you like it here?"

Nick squeezed his knees for a second. "... Yeah."

"Think you'd like to stay another few weeks?"

"Okay."

Czejak had to smile. "What do you think of Gary?"

At first Nick didn't move. Then he started picking at the dirty carpeting draped over the stairs quietly. "What do you mean?" he asked at last.

"Do you like him, Nick?"

"... I guess..."

"He's a pretty cool guy, isn't he?"

Nick shot his counselor a slightly sour look. He wasn't comfortable discussing the topic for some reason, passing it off as irritation.

"Sorry, Nick. I'm just asking because it's part of the experiment." Czejak waited a few seconds. "He likes you, you know."

"...What?"

"It's true. You're the first friend he's really had in years. He's been alone here for so long."

The kit was silent.

"What about you? How do you feel about him?"

"Shit," Nick whispered, clutching his skinny legs. "I dunno."

Czejak nodded. "Just say whatever comes to you, Nick. I'm here to listen."

Eventually, Nick shifted. "Yeah. I like him. He's alright..."

"Does he still frighten you? Make you think about...?"

The kit shook his head. "No. He's different."

"I'm pretty sure he is. He won't ever hurt anyone. Gary's one of the gentlest furs I know, and he cares. He empathizes very well."

"What?"

"It means he's good at trying to understand how others feel. Like when he asked about the detention center. I think he hates it nearly as much as we do."

Nick sighed deeply. "Whatever." The pair sat in silence for a minute or so, before Nick lifted his head. "He's cool. I like how he listens. He isn't a dickhead."

"I know. He's a very good guy."

After a second, the kit started to pull on the carpet. "Can I go now?" he asked softly.

That caught the psychologist by surprise. "Oh... in a minute, Nick. Don't you want to talk to me?"

"Nah, I do."

Czejak nodded, but then he frowned slightly. "Alright, one last question though."

"What?"

"Can you remember how Gary's phone broke?"

The cheetah boy started and stared at his counselor.

"He's not pissed off at you. I just wondered if there was anything you wanted to talk to me about."

Nick looked away.

"Nick, were you calling your friends?" No reply. However, Nick shifted uncomfortably. The coyote pressed on. "I don't think you'd have wanted to call some drug-dealers to come up here. Did you call your friends?" Still nothing. As expected. "Nick, I swear, I won't be able to find them if you tell me. They'll be safe. I just need to know why it happened."

Throughout the entire time Czejak had known Nick, not once had the cheetah boy said anything that could jeopardize his friends. Social workers, police and even Czejak himself had tried - but Nick knew why they were trying. Nick knew what they were up to, and had never once endangered his friends. All Czejak had managed to find out in ten months were their first names and what they did together.

So Czejak knew what had to be going through the kit's mind as he huddled on the floor, shakily holding his knees to his chest. He didn't expect an answer for several minutes, and Nick didn't disappoint. Czejak watched on as the boy's gray eyes darted nervously over the blank concrete expanse between them.

"Th-they... found out where I was from the phone number..." Nick finally breathed, rubbing at his calf. "When I called them. I don't know why, but they told A-Adam. He used to give us weed and shit. I d-didn't want anyone to come here! I only wanted to talk to them again!"

"Did you speak to Chris?"

"N-No. Chase." Nick held his breath a moment. It was plain he was very distressed but Czejak knew he wanted to continue now. Once he'd started, he'd want Czejak to listen to him. "H-he told me to just... go with it. I tried to be... better. I don't know!"

Czejak blinked. "You mean, you tried to get along with Gary better?"

Urgently, the cub nodded. "I didn't know Chris was gonna make him tell Adam to come up here! Nobody told me!"

"It's alright, Nick. You're not in trouble. You don't feel bad about getting to know Gary better, do you?"

A shake of the head. Czejak saw the kit was starting to cry again.

"I-I can't go back," he said simply. His voice cracked. Then he buried his head in his paws.

"It's okay, Nick." Czejak rubbed his eyes quickly. "You're not alone."

Patiently, Czejak gave the distraught child some time to cry to himself. Nick had seen his entire world come crashing down his ears, punctuated only a few nights ago when a gang of brutal criminals threatened to kill him - an eleven year old boy, who had never hurt anyone. All because he just wanted to speak to his friends again one day; and now he had been abandoned by them too.

Raising his head a little to swipe at his nose, Nick managed to bring his reddened eyes to Czejak's concerned face. "I'm gonna miss Chase," he whimpered.

"I know. You two were very close, weren't you?"

Nick nodded, loosening the bear-hug he was crushing his knees together with. "H-he was gonna leave... go to the cops..."

"You might see him again then."

"I won't." The kit sniffled disgustingly, wiping at his leaking nose again. "I always fuck things up."

"Nick, it isn't always your fault. You know that."

"No. Mom hurt me. Dad didn't want me. They put me with a bunch of assholes, but they didn't want me either. O-one of them just wanted to hurt me. Chris doesn't give a flying fuck about me no more, and Gary won't. I fuck everything up. I don't care anymore! Forget it."

"Nick..."

"Forget it!" Nick hid his face again. "Just fuck off. Leave me alone."

"Please Nick." "What?!"

The coyote hopped off the dryer and walked a few steps closer. The moment he did, the young cheetah's ears pricked and a pair of startled gray eyes came back up to stare at him. "I know how you feel. You've told me before. All I can promise is that if you don't give up, I won't either." He knelt, a few feet from where the huddled cub watched him warily. "Life has been shit for you, Nick. But Gary and I won't add to that."

Nick shook his head. "Bullshit!" he cried. "It's all the same shit. Gary was gonna let me stay for a few weeks then tell me he didn't want me. He already said that! Just coz it's some fuckin' experiment doesn't make a difference! It's the same thing!"

"Nick, as far as we all know, you don't want to stay with him. We're doing what you want." Czejak shrugged. "Aren't we? That's what you told him on your first day, he said."

"Y-yeah, that's..." The kid's expression became deeply confused. "No. I-I..."

Czejak smiled wanly. "Nick, I'm your friend, believe it or not. I'm on your side. But you have to tell me what it is you really want. You need to figure it out for yourself. Or maybe you just need to admit it now."

Nick's eyes watered and he sniffed weakly, but nonetheless he glared indignantly at his counselor. "... Fuck you."

"I'm sorry, but it's true."

Their staring contest seemed to stretch on for eternity.

"It doesn't matter." Nick looked away at last. "It never matters what I want."

"It does to me. So tell me."

After a moment's reflection, Nick gave a slight snort and wiped his nose again on his already matted wrist. "G-Gary won't want me to stay here."

"Well," Czejak said, his voice an oddly conspiratorial whisper, "I think he already does. He just won't admit it yet."

It was well after six in the afternoon that Gary heard the bedroom door upstairs creak open while he was down in the kitchen, unpacking the dishwasher. Or trying to. It had been on the blink for several weeks, but at long last it had given up the ghost. The detergent tablet hadn't dissolved, leaving a thick, greasy film over the cutlery and plates that had accumulated in the machine over the course of three weeks.

"God damn you," the cheetah mumbled, brushing a finger down one plate. It came away smeared with white crumbs - remnants of the half dissolved tablet. "Oh, fucking great."

When he turned to place a few heavy plates in the sink for a proper rinse, he wasn't surprised to see the shirtless kit standing on the other side of the room.

"Nick!" the grownup said, smiling. "For once I had some clue you were coming."

Nick grunted and returned a sort of half-smile.

"Take it you've been thinking about whatever it was Czejak said?" asked Gary, running the tap and hitting the plates with such a powerful jet of water it was as if he was trying to sandblast limestone. Nick nodded slightly. "Yeah, he sure said a lot of things to think about."

"G-Gary?"

"Hm?"

Nick shuffled slightly. "Uh. I-I'm... uh. Your phone. I didn't mean to, man."

Gary smiled. "It's alright, Nick. I don't use it very often anyway."

The boy stared at the linoleum, as if the patterning was somehow interesting to him. Gary turned the tap off and waited.

"Uh. Hey... want to watch a movie or some shit?"

For a moment, Gary stared. "O-Oh! Shit, yeah, sure." He dried his paws off quickly. "Anything in mind?"

"What?"

"Anything you want to watch?"

Nick shrugged nervously. "No. Whatever."

"Alright. Um, cool!" Gary gestured at the plates. "I'll just... dry these and put them away."

Lifting one of the white ceramic disks, Gary started to towel it off. Much to his shock, Nick waited while he did.

That was strange, the adult thought. He had to wonder what Czejak had said to him down in that musty basement.

"I don't use these plates often," he was speaking aloud. "Too much work. Paper plates and stuff like that are easier to deal with. Just finish up and chuck it in the trash, you know?"

"...I broke one..." Nick suddenly murmured.

Gary looked at him. "Oh... Yeah. Well, like I said, I don't use 'em much."

When Gary finished, he stacked the plates atop one another and made for the scrupulously neat dining room. He firmly put the last time Nick had been there out of his mind, aware the kid was following him as he made his way to the cupboard. He placed them on the antique wooden shelving and turned.

Nick had stopped at the entrance. He must not have wanted to concern him by going into the 'forbidden' room, Gary figured. He wasn't about to complain. Though he had since forgiven the last tantrum, the possibility of another filled Gary with dread.

However, the kit was looking up at the marble urn atop the dusty cabinet against the wall. The one he'd dashed a plate against in a mindless rage.

"You okay, Nick?"

Shuffling a little more, Nick frowned. "What's that?" he asked, pointing at the urn.

Smiling slightly, Gary walked over to it. "Oh. That's my mom, Nick."

Nick blinked. "Your mom?"

"Yeah."

"... What?"

Gary laughed. "Yes, my mom is a pot." He grinned. "Just kidding. When she died... uh, well, these are her ashes."

"Ashes?" Nick was baffled.

"Well yeah. When you die, you can either be buried in the ground, or they can burn your body to ashes."

"... Why the fuck would you do that?"

"She asked me to. She didn't want to be put in the dirt, she said."

Nick stared at the urn, his eyes slowly widening. Gary sighed.

"Yeah. This is why I don't want you to break things in here." The grownup scratched at his ear. "Alright, let's go watch something."

With Nick trailing a few feet behind, Gary descended the few stairs to the den and crossed to the cabinet by the television.

"Did you finish off the comedian's stuff?" Gary paused, waiting for the reply. "Nick?"

"No."

Gary tugged open the glass cabinet. He cast a glance back at the boy. "How about the rest of it?"

Looking uncomfortable still, Nick shrugged. "Yeah."

"Yeah, let's finish this off." Gary retrieved the disc. "Feel free to look around in here, Nick. There's a shitload of stuff I haven't watched in years in here."

"Whatever."

Gary rolled his eyes, this time making sure to conceal it from Nick. Still, it was pretty stunning that Nick wanted to hang out with him.

In only a few minutes, Gary had the show started and had made his way over to his recliner. He swung the legs out and got comfortable, shooting a glance over at Nick.

Who hadn't actually moved. He seemed to be lost in thought, standing just at the little stairway to the den. Gary gave him some time, and eventually he came over and sat heavily on the couch.

Twenty or more minutes into the show, Gary realized something was amiss. Having just finished laughing at a particularly rude joke, he noticed that Nick was being unusually quiet - especially for a joke like that. Sitting up slightly straighter, Gary took a look.

Nick hadn't slunk away or anything, but he wasn't even looking at the television. Instead, he seemed to be staring absently at Gary.

A little flustered by the kit's unfocused gaze, Gary looked back at the screen.

Some time later, he finally gave in. He twisted in the recliner. "Hey, Nick? You okay? Being quiet over there."

The boy grunted. "Yeah." Another little pause, then at last Nick straightened up. "Yo. Why didn't he bring the cops?"

Ready for it, Gary shrugged. "He didn't tell me, but he did give me a message for you."

"Huh?"

"He said: 'I told you it mattered to me.' Didn't explain it." Gary crossed his legs and kicked off his shoes. "Just before he left."

Frowning, Nick thought about it for a moment, now directing his gaze to the floor.

Gary paused the video. "Nick, can I ask you something?" he asked. "You don't have to tell me, but... I just have been wondering."

"What?"

The grownup faltered. "Why did you do it? Why didn't you take the chance to get away?"

Predictably, the initial response was dead silence as Nick stilled like a statue.

"Man," thought Gary, "that was a fucking stupid thing to ask."

There was nothing, no reply from the kit for several minutes, and Gary decided to move on. "It's alright, doesn't matter. Want me to put the show back on?" The kit just nodded, so Gary hit play.

Nick never really seemed to start paying attention again, though. In less than half an hour, Gary looked over to check on him. The boy was still locked in thought.

"Want me to stop it, Nick? Not interested at the moment?"

"Yeah." Nick's gravelly voice was subdued.

So Gary did so. Neither of them moved, sitting quietly in the den - it was, Gary knew, better than being in separate rooms.

The questioned he'd asked was foolish, but Gary was extremely curious. At least Nick didn't tell him to fuck off. Eventually though, Gary realized he had to say something, because the kit wasn't going to make a move if he didn't.

With another whump, he brought the leg-rest of the recliner back to the base. "Hey, Nick, I got an idea," he said.

Nick just grunted at him.

"I got some shit down in the basement. Want to look through it all?"

"Like what?"

"Eh, just toys and stuff. I mean, just to see if there's anything interesting."

Nick shifted, looking less than enthusiastic, but at last he nodded. "Yeah, c'mon, let's do something," he muttered.

Gary led the way down to the basement, surprised that Nick had agreed, but he sure as heck didn't plan on commenting. Nick followed on behind as Gary descended the stairs, flicking the light switch as he did.

"Okay, yeah." Gary pointed at a metal shelf on the far wall. The way was blocked by miscellaneous junk, including a broken chair and dust-covered old bookshelves. "That's all of my stuff. Some of my old toys too."

Nick glanced at the shelf. Several plastic containers sat, covered in dust, and he couldn't really make out anything in it.

"So..." Gary dusted his paws unnecessarily. "Feel free to check all the stuff out. Bound to be something there for you."

A noncommittal grunt - again.

"Uh, do they have, uh, any toys at all at that center?" Gary felt awkward just asking that.

"No." Nick swore quietly. "I'm not a little fuckin' kid."

"That's not what I'm saying, Nick, not at all." Gary laughed wryly. "I didn't stop playing with toys until I was twenty-something. I went from toy swords to video games with swords."

Nick frowned. "Twenty?" he repeated.

"Well, think about it, Nick." Gary smiled. "There's no real reason to stop, is there? So it doesn't matter how old you are. Anyway, yeah... if you see something here, take it."

The kit blinked his gray eyes in shock. "What?!"

"Sure. Not like I'm ever gonna have a kid of my own." The grownup sighed. "You might as well take what you like, wherever you go."

Nick had no response for that. After he'd caused Gary to lose that machine, the guy still wanted to let him take his shit? Not that it mattered... Nick knew he was going back to Wilder Springs. They wouldn't let him keep anything. There was no fucking point.

An opaque black box sitting on the far end of the shelving caught his eye, and he nodded at it. "What's that one?"

"Uhh, another kind of toys," Gary answered evasively. "Don't worry about that one."

After a moment, a lopsided smirk found its way onto Nick's muzzle. "Okay."

"Oh, shit." Gary burst out laughing, shaking his head. "Hey, I never said it was that kind of toy - did I?"

"Is it?" Nick asked bluntly.

"Maybe. Maybe. Could be remote controlled cars for all I'm telling."

Nick shrugged. "Okay, whatever."

Gary's features grew sheepish. "Well, anyway... c'mon, let's go upstairs again. It's cold down here and we're not even wearing shoes. I feel like I'm standing on an ice rink. Come on down and check stuff out sometime; if nothing else, I know I've got toy guns around there somewhere."

Once again, Gary led the way back upstairs. Nick followed, once again silently contemplative.

They returned to the couch and recliner once again; Nick quickly swaddled himself in his blanket, tightening it around his neck, still lost in thought.

Gary slammed back into the recliner loudly, deploying the paw-rest immediately. "So, did you guys have any of those, uh, 'toys'? In your videos?" His expression was a little strange, Nick thought.

"Nah." Nick scratched his side. "Chris had a few."

"He didn't let you guys use them? Well yeah, guess I see why."

"... Evie told me 'bout them."

Gary tried to remember who that was. "Oh," he said at last. "The girl at the center." The grownup looked even odder for a moment - Nick realized it was shyness. "So... was she your, um...? You know? Girlfriend?"

The kit stared in what appeared to be utter confusion. Eventually, he moved onto scowling. "No..." he mumbled.

"Oh."

For the umpteenth time, both of them fell silent, and Gary kicked himself mentally. However, Nick seemed to turn his scowl down at his foot-paws, which tented the bottom of the blanket in which he had once again cocooned himself.

"I like boys," he suddenly declared in a cracked voice. Gary blinked at him, but the boy kept his gaze on his paws, visibly mortified. "I think."

Gary sat up. "You think? How do you mean?"

Nick shook his head. "Doesn't matter."

"Nick, like I said, that stuff they said is bullshit. You don't really believe them, do you?"

"Never mind," the kit growled. "Just forget it."

"... Sorry."

The boy closed his eyes briefly. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet. "Y-yeah, I know." He slipped a paw out from the cocoon and rubbed his nose.

"Hey, you don't need to tell me shit, Nick." Gary shrugged. "But seriously: I'm here if you do want to. I ain't going to be a dick to you about it."

Nick grumbled. "Yeah, whatever. It's all bullshit."

"Definitely."

"Don't!"

Wisely, Gary shut up.

But Nick fidgeted a little, seemingly uncomfortable. Gary watched him out of the corner of his eye as he reached for the remote again.

When his paw grasped it, Nick unfurled the blanket and sat up. "Hey. Uh, s-so you wanna know what we did in the videos?"

With only an ounce of hesitation, Gary nodded. "Sure, alright. If you want to tell me." Not only would it assuage his curiosity, but he got the impression this was another of Nick's indirect apologies.

"Um..." Nick huddled up against the armrest, facing Gary. "Me an' Chase did most of them. Started out we only used to talk about it, but then, uh, we started doing shit. Like... one day, we were talking about it, and Kyle said someone should suck me off."

Gary raised an eyebrow. "Now that's random."

"Y-yeah. Because no one had done it before. So yeah, we screwed around, and they told me about the videos. They asked if I wanted to help, and I was like, we were doing it anyway, so why not?"

"I see." Gary nodded.

Nick shivered slightly. "I mean, like, Chase an' me did the videos mostly. Sometimes it was just me and him, but not always."

"How old were you guys? You and Chase?"

The kit shrugged, barely noticeable under the blanket. "I dunno. I guess, like, ten and twelve."

"The younger ones, yeah." Gary mused on that for a moment. "I guess that way'd make more money."

Nick felt his face heat up and he shifted nervously. "Y-yeah. We were just screwing around, and we had a camera there. Sometimes we did stupid shit for the camera."

"Was it fun?" Gary gulped - he couldn't believe he was having this conversation. Or asking these questions. He was shaking a little also.

"Yeah. We, uh... it was mostly just sucking and shit like that. S-sometimes... you know."

The grownup was convinced his head was about to spontaneously combust. "Uh... b-butt-sex?"

"Yeah. Usually, like, Kyle or Jack would do that." Nick bit his lip. "They were way fucking bigger than Chase. So it kinda stung at first. But they were cool about it - didn't just shove it in."

The stupid sentence tumbled from his muzzle before Gary could stop it. "You mean like the guys in the park? And uh...?"

Nick glowered. "No! It wasn't the same."

"Y-yeah alright, I get you. Never mind, sorry." The adult felt faint. "Shit. I meant that they weren't like the guys in the park."

Out of nowhere, Nick asked, "Have you done it?"

It felt like a massive bell clanged in Gary's head, quivering his whole body with embarrassment. "S-sex? Oh, uh, yeah."

Immediately Nick pressed on. "With guys or girls?"

With another mental curse, Gary realized he couldn't gracefully duck the question. He laughed nervously. "Uh, shit... both."

The kit actually fixed him with a stare, a cheeky, boyish grin on his features - Gary felt his heart stop. "So... you gay or what?"

"I prefer 'open-minded', actually." The grownup grinned back, deciding to just go with it. "What about you? Not into chicks at all?"

"Nah... some of them are okay, but... meh." Nick kicked the blanket off again, getting too hot. "Not interested."

A weird tingle had afflicted Nick's entire body. It had intensified greatly as he phrased his cheeky question, almost making him laugh. When his heart started beating quicker as well, he feared it heralded another attack of craziness. But he was wrong - it was excitement, and he recognized it at last. It wasn't getting any worse. There was something else too. The kit was giddy, all keyed-up; and he recognized that feeling too.

It wasn't uncommon back when he lived with his friends. Especially not after a few drinks.

Suddenly, he couldn't help his grin from turning into a full blown smile. "Hey," he said. "Can we have a few drinks or some shit?"

"Sure, it's late enough I guess..." Gary stood and made his way to the foyer. "Not got a lot left."

"Cool."

The grownup stopped. "Hey, how about something different?" "Like what?"

"I'll make you a cocktail - something with a bunch of different types of booze; probably something sweet and fruity." Gary scratched his ear. "If you don't like it, I'll have it and you can have something simpler."

Nick nodded eagerly.

"Give me a few minutes then."

When left alone, Nick laid back onto the armrest, forcing himself to take a few deep breaths. He scratched at his exposed chest and sighed. It really was sort of like hanging out with his friends. It was fun; something he hadn't had a lot of in a long, long time.

Gary was... Gary was kind of a weird adult friend; Czejak was something different, not exactly a friend. He still liked the coyote, but this was something different.

The boy hadn't spoken so openly and readily... and verbosely, to anyone since the others in that dirty little house, except maybe... well. She was gone now.

Maybe things really were different this time.

Gary returned before he could think on the matter any more. In each paw he had a contoured glass filled with a strange, yellow-ish liquid. Large handfuls of ice clinked noisily within the container while a green straw waggled in the air above it. Nick blinked in confusion as Gary handed it to him. He took it and sniffed at it. "Shit, that's not bad..." he said, but his expression was dubious. "What the fuck is it?!"

The grownup grinned. "My own little mix, really. Three types of rum, and a few fruit juices. Mostly pineapple." He sat down. "Watch out though, okay? It might not seem like it, but that's like four shots of your bourbon in one glass."

Nick nodded approvingly and sucked on the straw. "Oh... man, that's not bad," he murmured. It was a little sweet, but he suddenly found himself really wanting exactly that. "Shit."

He sucked hard on the straw, and Gary winced as the glass's contents depleted significantly. "Yeesh."

"Can I have another after?"

Gary froze for a moment. "Err... maybe. Give it some time, trust me. It takes some time for powerful cocktails to really kick in. Doubt you'll want another."

Nick stopped and looked at Gary with incredulity in his gray eyes. "Wait, what did you call it?"

"It's a cocktail."

Nick nearly spilled the drink, bursting into a fit of laughter. "Fuck, man, that's awesome!"

"... Damn, and considering we were talking about butt-sex before, that's kinda appropriate."

Together they laughed at the puerile humor, both nearly dropping their 'cocktails'.

The kit had to put his down, in fact, and he actually put a paw to his stomach, scarcely managing to squeeze curses past the guffawing. "Shit!" he managed to gasp at last. "I ain't laughed like this since I got totally baked!"

Gary nearly snorted pineapple juice. "Fuck, me too..." he confessed, holding his breath.

"What?" Nick blinked. "You too?"

"Sure. A long time ago." Gary paused. "I don't have the contacts anymore, if you're wondering." Which was only partially true - though Gary didn't think Nick needed to know the details. "Uh, so I guess you guys drank and smoked at your fiends' house?"

"Yeah."

"You didn't mess with any of the heavier stuff, did you?" Gary gave a dramatic shiver. "Ugh."

Nick shrugged. "Nah... tried some." The kit stretched as Gary watched. "That stuff you sniff. Was alright. Jack did it, and he sometimes did some other shit he had to stick into his arm."

"You never tried that, right?"

"Nah. Friends don't make friends do things they don't want to." Nick shrugged.

"Yeah, seriously, that stuff can fuck you up. It's nothing to do with your age; it's just crazy stuff." Gary shivered. "Some weed I can understand. Wouldn't touch anything to do with needles in a million years."

Nick nodded. "Yeah, fuck needles."

"Well, hey... wanna keep talking, or want to watch the rest of the video?" Gary grinned. "We can finish our drinks while watching him."

"Sure, whatever." Nick slurped loudly again. "This is really good."

"Wait till it hits you. I really hope you don't throw up again."

The boy shrugged, completely unconcerned about the possibility. "Throwing up is fuck all," he pointed out. "It's if you feel like shit the next day."

"I once threw up because of these. It was bright, and I mean fluorescent, yellow. Like, it could've glowed in the dark." Gary grinned. "I kinda missed the toilet too."

Nick screwed up his face. "Oh, shit!" he choked. "That's gross!" However, he laughed.

"Don't worry." Gary turned on the television again, delighted at the reaction. "This guy has something twice as sick coming up."

"Did you have to clean it up?"

"Yep."

The kit shook his head, cackling gleefully. "Nah, no way, man, nothing he can say is gonna be worse."

Gary smirked and upped the volume. "Wanna bet?"

Nick yawned and staggered over to the bed, seating himself on the edge of the mattress.

After Gary had gone to sleep, Nick had gone down to the basement and immediately inspected the black box. It contained exactly what he expected, and he had worn a grin all the way to the second storey of the house - he'd only given it a cursory glance; next chance he got, he'd dig to the bottom of that thing. See what Gary had hidden in there...

The kit sighed and sat forward, his elbow on his knees. Things were so weird now.

He hadn't managed to work up the courage to ask his counselor about Wilder Springs. He had made a promise to himself that he would, and got so angry about it, but in the end he just couldn't do it. He got scared.

But Czejak had offered him hope still. Maybe Gary would let him stay... at least for awhile. Nick didn't want to stay forever or anything. Of course, Gary hadn't said anything more than 'another three weeks' and Czejak could be lying - like he had about the not-so-little thing that Nick would be imprisoned at Wilder Springs for years to come. It wasn't exactly lying, but it was the same fuckin' thing in the end...

What was going to happen to him now? Nick wished he could be sure.

"Oh mn..." Nick groaned, falling to his back; staring unseeingly at the ceiling.

After today, he felt bizarrely happy. It had been one of the best days of the last year or more - to Nick, that was a long, long time. Only the vague, now slightly soiled, memories of his friends at the house could compete.

However, beneath all that, he still knew where he was. Chained electronically to a stranger's house.

Gary was cool, but that didn't change anything. It wasn't Nick's decision to be here.

He sighed and rolled over, grabbing a pillow.

Things were just beginning. Nick knew he needed to remember that. Just over two weeks meant nothing - it took longer than that for that piece of shit to show Nick just what kind of asshole he really was. But Nick was willing to give Gary that chance.

Anything to not have to go back to the detention center.

More importantly, Gary was not that asshole. They only looked a little bit alike. Probably just because they were both cheetahs.

Nick moaned and closed his eyes tightly.

What Czejak had said was right! That fucking coyote! Nick didn't even know what he wanted.

He didn't want to stay here. Why? Because that's what they wanted him to do! Just like they wanted to keep him in Wilder Springs, or in the houses of all the other fucking so-called 'foster-parents' he'd been in!

Those bastards that didn't even know him, placing him with asshole after asshole... Nick was not their toy or their god-damn pet! He hated them, and he hated what they were doing to him; how they never once asked him what he wanted, never once were really there to help him. They controlled, restricted, ordered and condemned... but were never around to hear his side of an issue.

Experiment. Right. Was this even an experiment? Why wouldn't they tell him what it was about if it was? Nick was sure it was a lie now. They had just put him with another foster-parent, another cheetah that lived alone, precisely like the monster that hurt him, just because they wanted to - and if he didn't 'behave' or chose to say no, they'd throw him back in Wilder Springs. A prison in every way but name.

It wasn't his choice. But it was what they had given him to choose from.

Clutching the pillow to his muzzle tightly, Nick squeezed his eyes even more tightly closed, preemptively trying to stop any tears.

It wasn't his choice, but he had to choose? That made no sense.

However, after everything he'd been through, he started to understand something.

This was about more than freedom and his pride. On the streets, in the monster's home... in Wilder Springs, day after day...

It was, and had always been, about survival.

Sometimes, he wasn't so sure it was worth it.

What was the point of living when it wasn't your life?

A loud, ear-numbing squeal, followed by a deafening klaxon-like blast, intruded on Nick's shallow sleep. He sat bolt upright, looking around wildly.

The noise had come from his room's window, and from the angered shouting he could hear, he quickly surmised it was from a near car-crash. Nonetheless, he hopped to his feet and stumbled dizzily to the window, struggling to wake up.

Like he thought, two luxury sedans had almost collided just to the side of Gary's house, and one of the cars had nearly pitched off the wet road and into the same bushes Nick had been tossed into not too long ago. Groaning, Nick staggered back to the bed and leaned on it to get his balance.

His heart was thumping like the drums of the 'death metal' songs Chris used to play. Fuck.

It was daylight, and Nick glanced at the bedside clock. It was late afternoon - meaning he'd got about five or so hours sleep. He wasn't sure exactly when he drifted off.

Stretching and yawning so hard he almost collapsed, the kit wandered to the door and pulled it open. He certainly felt better than he had before he fell asleep.

Despite the cold conditions outside, it was very warm in Gary's oversized house. Nick padded down the stairs, absently scratching his still naked torso. He decided to pick his shirt up when he got to the couch. Though he did have to admit, Gary seeing him shirtless didn't really bother him now. Now that Nick thought about it, the more he liked the furs he was with, the more clothes he was okay with leaving off.

He snickered, remembering how he showered with the other guys in the house.

In Wilder Springs, nobody liked him and he liked nobody... and they had no privacy. Often, he skipped out on showers entirely, especially if the washrooms were busy. The showers were large, single rooms, with no doors, no curtains, nothing to hide behind. Just a blank wall to face in one direction, where six showerheads were mounted.

It was worse than that, though. Being the youngest kid there, Nick got quickly sick of the remarks and discomfiting attempts by the older males to sneak peeks - or worse. It was the only thing that made him glad for the near-ubiquity of the staff members; not that they didn't sneak peeks and make remarks too, but that they mostly dissuaded any of the teens who wanted to take things even further.

Having heard the stories and receiving a few not-so-subtle threats, Nick resolutely avoided the showers whenever he could get away with it.

Thinking about the matter brought Nick to a decision: it was time for another shower. Maybe not right now, but he wanted another one soon. It was so cool to be able to just relax in there.

He strode over to the couch and picked up the hooded t-shirt Gary had bought for him, pulling it roughly over his head. He stopped to listen. It didn't sound like Gary was in at all, though he could have been still in his room, or sequestered in his office. Perfect.

Shrugging, Nick headed for the basement, making a point of clicking the light on.

The lights hummed loudly, flickering before settling into their bright, clear glow.

It was cold in the basement, as expected, so Nick was glad he had put on his shirt. But this was one of the last rooms Nick had really explored, and Gary had drawn his attention to boxes full of potentially interesting things. He just felt compelled to explore now; it was cold, but he didn't want to turn back. His bare feet-paws were numbed by the freezing floor - but he wasn't sure where his shoes had gone.

Shit. He reminded himself to find them as soon as he could - losing shoes was always a major fucking pain in the dick. If he needed to make a run for it or anything, he'd want to have them on him. It was just ingrained into his brain: you don't lose your shoes.

It wasn't just the opaque black box that Nick had already given a quick glance. While that was undoubtedly full of interesting stuff, Nick felt like investigating the clear boxes of 'normal' toys. Maybe he could figure out what Gary meant. Why he thought Nick would give a shit about anything in there. He looked around, selecting one of the clear boxes.

It took several minutes to pull things out of the way so he could get a clear path to the shelving. A nearly destroyed office chair was jammed between some old furniture, barring his way. Pulling it free took a substantial effort - the kit ripped it away and pushed it across the basement to collapse on its side in the middle of the room.

Marching up to the shelf, Nick had to stand on his toes to reach the box he had selected. He got a grip and pulled it firmly.

The weight of the container was far more than he anticipated, and the kit almost dropped it right on top of himself. Only the fear of being crushed by the stupid box gave him the strength to hold on, surprised as he was, and he trembled slightly while he lowered the box to the ground.

"Shit!" Nick swore, breathing hard. "The fuck is in here?"

He pried the lid off and hurled it angrily to the side before squatting right next to the box.

Toy trains and model cars, made of heavy metal. No fucking wonder...

Using one foot-paw, he pushed the box closer to the metal shelving again. He'd use it as a stepladder if necessary. When he made to look at another, he spotted something lying between two of the containers. Two rubber-ish poles jutted out, and he grasped one to tug it out.

It took a little wriggling, but he soon pulled it free. The synthetic handle was only the bottom half of the item, extending barely more than a foot from the shelving; the rest was a broad circle made of purple and gold plastic, with a net of clear plastic strings crisscrossing within it. It weighed very little, and Nick swung it through the air. It made a whistling sound as it cut easily through the air.

Nick frowned at it. He knew what this was called. A word for it lay dormant somewhere in his head.

Where it had lain on the shelf, there was another such object, as well as a plastic tube. Tucking the synthetic handle under his arm, Nick pulled out the tube. Curious now, he started to pull on what seemed to be the tube's lid. It didn't yield, and when he pulled on it more firmly, his fingers suddenly lost their grip and he nearly dropped the cylinder. He scarcely managed to catch it before its momentum sent it rocketing down into his groin, the thing he'd tucked under his arm falling to the ground with a clatter.

The bottom of the tube popped open and half-a-dozen green orbs fell to the concrete, bouncing noisily in every direction. Including under the old furniture and piles of hardware that littered the basement.

"Fuck!" Nick dropped the tube and kicked it away. "Fuck you!" It smashed into the drier and rebounded away.

His face a grimace of anger, Nick picked the closest green ball up and threw it downwards with all his might.

The ball bounced right off the unyielding concrete, hurtling upwards into the ceiling. Once it hit the ceiling it decided to reverse direction once again. With a cry, Nick pulled aside, the ball grazing his shoulder before hitting the side of his leg. It merrily bounced away while Nick stared at it.

"Piece of-!" Nick suddenly flared, bunching his paws. But he froze after only one step.

No. Not over a fucking ball! This was how it started, every time! He had a sudden impulse to grab the plastic thing and smash it down on the tube the balls had come from, or maybe just the ground, until everything involved broke. But a ray of rationality intruded and pointed out that if he broke any more of Gary's property, he'd be back in Wilder Springs in the next four days for certain.

So he glared at the ball, breathing hoarse and muzzle clenched.

For one of the first times ever, he managed to stop it himself. The only other times he could ever remember that happening was when he was with the doc once or twice. Hell, most of the time, Czejak just let him rant unless he went too far.

Holding his breath for a moment, Nick walked over and retrieved the ball. He held it in his paw and stared at it. "Fuck. You." He squeezed it as hard as he could, but it never lost shape.

Finally he managed to calm down. With a sigh, he gently tossed the ball at the only exposed section of the wall. With a satisfying report, it bounced from the wall to the floor, and Nick caught it on the rebound. Surprised by his own reflexes, he found himself staring at the ball again - he had never caught a ball before. Never. It was very easy, actually.

He threw it at the wall again, a little harder. Correspondingly, the ball moved faster and was a little harder to catch.

Nick threw and caught it again, three times in succession. Frowning, he threw it once more. The ball bounced off on an angle and Nick instinctively darted to the side, catching it with a single paw.

After indulging in this for an unknown amount of time, he stopped, noticing his breathing was coming a little faster than usual.

With a pang of embarrassment he realized he had just been playing with a toy. With a ball. He hadn't been thinking, too bored, and he went right ahead and did the thing he said he wouldn't do to both Gary and his counselor.

This was something he wasn't going to mention to either of them.

... But it was kinda fun. He had forgotten how nice it was to do stuff like that; the kit couldn't really think of the last time he played with something, or got involved in a game like that.

Of_course_ not! That was kiddy bullshit. He wasn't like that anymore. Right? He wasn't a little kid anymore, wasn't five years old! Those rare times when he screwed around with the guys in the house didn't count. They almost never did that, just sat around talking and getting wasted. Besides, that wasn't playing... that was screwing around.

God damn it.

His eyes fell on the black box at the far end of the shelf. The one Gary had been evasive about.

With nothing else to do, his spontaneous mood ruined, Nick went straight for it. As with the first box, it was very heavy, so Nick quickly put it down and dragged it away from the dusty shelving as he had done the night before. He sat on the concrete beside it and started to pull the 'adult' toys out one by one.

He wasn't even sure why, he simply just wanted to see them. Gary had quite a selection, and Nick even had to think very hard about a few of them, trying to figure out what they even did and how to use them.

With a speculative frown on his face, he picked up what seemed to be an adjustable ring to examine. After pressing a button, the ring started to vibrate. Nick's eyes widened when he figured out what it was for.

"Shit! That's cool!" But he switched it off and put it down. He only wanted to look - it didn't seem right to use these things. They were Gary's. There was no way Nick would use them without asking, and there was no way he would ask to use them.

There were things in the black container he simply couldn't deduce the purpose of, but he took them out and laid them aside anyway.

At the bottom, he found a blank cardboard box. Immediately, he pulled it out and opened it. What he found in there made him burst into uncontrollable laughter.

The item Gary had tried to hide at the bottom of his dirty toys box was an eight-inch long synthetic dick. Nick shook his head and inspected it more closely. It was just fucking stupid. The object was incredibly realistic, made of a soft rubber. The contours, including the veins, of a real grown-up dick were perfectly imitated.

Gary was keeping a big dick in a box! What the hell?! That was funny!

Bemused, and with a big grin on his muzzle, Nick sat cross-legged, lifting the massive replica organ in two hands. He shook it, and grinned as the pinkish tip waggled in the air in front of his nose.

Had Gary used it yet? It was way bigger than even Chris's member had been, perhaps twice the thickness. Too big for Nick, the kit figured that straight away.

A switch on the base of it made it vibrate, and Nick amused himself for several moments by switching it on and off, watching as the outline of the unfeasibly large toy blurred each time.

Distracted, he never noticed anything until there were footfalls on the basement stairs - he had left the door open.

The kit looked over his shoulder with a gasp of surprise, and froze when he saw Gary descending the stairs.

"Hey Nick!" Gary said, looking up from the steep stairway. "How's it go... oh."

The adult's eyes widened and he stared in astonishment at the seated boy a few yards away.

It was only then that Nick realized what Gary was seeing. He had held the toy up to his face to inspect it, and had neglected to close his mouth. Slowly, he lowered the realistic penis and looked down at the floor in front of him, mortified.

Gary swallowed awkwardly, but a grin snuck onto his face from somewhere. "Lemme guess, it's not what it looks like?" he quipped, starting to chuckle.

"Shut up," the kit muttered quietly. "I was just looking."

The grownup shook his head. "It's alright, Nick, I know." He held up a plastic bag. "Got you some more clothes and shit, since your other set got ruined."

After a moment, Nick swiveled around and scooted backwards closer to the wall he'd been bouncing the tennis ball off. "Whatever."

Gary scanned the basement quickly. Tennis balls littered the floor, as did sex toys and container lids. The tennis racket he'd bought over a year ago was lying on the ground too. Hardware and furniture had been strewn about as well, tossed neglectfully aside as Nick went about exploring.

Great, he was gonna have to--

"I'll deal with it." Nick pulled his knees in and folded his arms atop their bony peaks. "All this shit."

"O-oh." Gary quickly concealed his surprise. "C-cool."

Abashed and uneasy, Nick hunched his shoulders and drew in on himself.

Gary coughed. "Um. I'll go back upstairs. I'm gonna set up a computer for you; get you some music and games and stuff."

"I was only looking."

"It's alright, Nick." The adult smiled slightly. "I believe you. I don't care, seriously. I just... the way you were holding it when I saw you kinda took me off guard, that's all." Gary hesitated a second. "You can... Uh, never mind. I'll see you soon."

Nick merely nodded.

With a grunt, Nick shoved the toy trains back onto the shelf where they belonged.

Arms rubbery, he staggered backwards and eyed the shelves with distaste - luckily, Gary had placed all of the toys on the middle shelves. Nick was shorter than Gary, and could barely reach the top shelf with his fingertips.

The kit studiously glanced over the basement, making sure he'd left nothing else out of place. Or at least that things looked tidied up. Normally, he'd not care, but he had good reason to not upset Gary now.

Mounting the stairway, Nick gripped his tail's tip thoughtfully as he made his way up to the ground floor.

It was time for that shower, anyway. Or rather, he wanted another bath. Maybe with bubbles, like he had when he was really young. Though he wasn't actually sure how to create them. He always just left the details up to his dad, or his mother if he asked very nicely and at the right time.

The earlier encounter with Gary now struck him as amusing. It had to be funny to see him sitting there with that rubber cock near his muzzle.

Worse than being seen like that was, actually, his reaction. If he hadn't made an embarrassing deal out of it... He'd spent the last, well, he wasn't sure how long he remained in the basement when Gary left, but as he entered the den and looked at the window it was plainly nighttime, and Nick had spent the entire time brooding about it.

Moderately humiliated and pissed off at himself, the kit resolved to avoid Gary the rest of the night. He wanted to just enjoy an hour or three in the bath and do as he usually did: take each moment as they came. Tackle every hour, every minute as they came up. Eventually, he'd be able to face Gary without feeling like such an idiot.

In fact, he was already dreamy-eyed as he went upstairs, imagining the lapping of the warm water on his shins - the bastard of an ankle-tether be damned.

He reached the second storey and padded on silent paws to the guest bathroom's doorway when he finally heard a strange sound.

It was a rhythmic rustling of some kind. Not a slow rustling like leaves, but fast and even.

Nick glanced around, trying to locate the sound. With a blink of confusion, he realized it was coming from the office.

"The fuck?" he mumbled, inching towards the door. It was closed over, but not actually shut. So he snuck up to it and, with a pair of fingers, pushed the door inwards. He peered through the resultant gap.

Gary was seated on his computer chair, lying back slightly. Nick could only make out his head, and the set of his shoulders and legs, but it was incredibly obvious what the grownup was doing. He almost laughed... almost...

Because then he saw the image on the computer's large monitor.

It was a picture of a leopard boy, about his age, Nick wasn't sure, clad in just his white underwear. Posing cheekily for the camera.

The grownup, panting slightly, reached out and tapped the keyboard. The picture on the screen changed, to one of a slender brown fox laughing in just a pair of swimming briefs on a beach.

Suddenly Nick felt his chest tighten, and he felt like he'd been catapulted in the sky.

Gary was looking at-! He was-!

Holy shit... Gary was a-!! That meant-!!

Before he could stop it, Nick unleashed a loud gasp.

Gary let out one of his own, cursing sharply and violently throwing his head around to look at the door. Their eyes met for a brief moment before Nick spun about and dashed away.

"Nick, wait!" Gary called desperately, but the kit was already racing down the stairs.

Tripping and banging his knees at the bottom of the stairs, Nick quickly scrabbled upright again. Unthinkingly, he darted for the front door and wrenched the handle. It never moved, only rattled loudly. The door was locked!

He was locked in!

Heavy footfalls descended the stairs, and Nick whirled around in a panic.

This couldn't be happening! He tried to look around for another escape, but nothing came to mind.

"Nick, stop!" Gary blurted, seemingly panicked himself as he jumped the last few steps. "Don't run! Please!"

But as he approached, Nick's eyes widened and he acted without thinking. On light paws, he stepped forward and threw his right paw straight up at the adult's face as he crossed the foyer. There was a muted impact, and Gary staggered back with a sharp cry.

Nick, gasping for breath, fell back against the front door. He stared at the grownup, seeing nothing but him; the much larger cheetah, an image blurred with fear. His chest literally hurt from the rapid, deep beating of his heart.

"Get away from me!" he cried shrilly, flattening against the wooden surface.

Gary just blinked, touching a paw gingerly to his nose. It came away slightly bloodied. After a second, he pressed on regardless. "N-Nick, wait, let me exp-!"

"Go away!" Nick screamed, shaking violently. "Fucking go away!"

A pause of an eternity seemed to pass, as Gary just looked at him in hurt bemusement. The grownup's eyes started to water.

Nick froze in horror. What the hell had he just done...?

They gaped at one another, neither of them moving an inch. A thin drool of watery blood oozed from Gary's nose, falling from the tip in crimson droplets. Absently, Nick tried to press himself more firmly into the door. Cornered.

The heart that beat so stridently in his chest seemed to plummet to the base of Nick's stomach. Irrational fear was wracking his mind, but even still he knew...

Gary's expression suddenly turned sour. "Aw, what's the point?" he said, rubbing his nose dry. The adult turned and strode furiously towards the stairs. "I don't care anymore. Just fuck off, kid. Little fucking maniac."

As the grownup stalked back upstairs, Nick slid down the door until he fell to his backside with a thud.

What the fuck had he just done...?

His eyes hurt now.

He had been crying for hours, rubbing his eyes for hours... and now Gary's eyes, and indeed entire head, felt like they'd been run over by a steamroller and then set ablaze.

What a fucking moronic thing to do. The one thing he said he'd not do while Nick was in his care, and he did it, and got caught the very first time... because he was such a moron, he left the door open. What a stupid mistake to have made. Of course Nick would react the way he did.

Gary bit his lip and tried to suppress the sudden urge to punch himself in the head. Instead, he knocked on the door in front of him.

"Nick?" he said, voice cracking. "Nick, can I talk to you?"

God only knew how long he waited, but just as he was about to knock again, he heard the kid croak out a wary, half-hearted "yeah."

Cautiously, Gary opened the door, half expecting Nick to attack him immediately. But the boy was slumped in his customary corner by the windowsill, in his customary huddled position - knees to his chest with arms cinched tightly around them.

Nick never looked up, didn't say a word. So Gary crossed the room, keeping his distance. Silently, he sat down quite some distance from Nick, unconsciously adopting the same position.

The kit shifted away slightly, further increasing the distance between them.

Kicking himself mentally, Gary struggled to think of what to say. He should've thought of something before coming in here. What on earth could he say though?

"I'm sorry," Nick whispered.

Gary looked over at him in surprise. "What?" was the best response he could muster.

Nick squeezed himself. "For hitting you."

"Oh." Gary blinked. "Nick, you were well within your right to. I didn't mean what I said afterwards. I'm sorry... this is why we-"

"Don't send me back."

The grownup faltered. "Wh-what?!"

"I don't want to go back." Nick sniffed. His voice was hoarser than usual, but weaker - somehow... vulnerable.

Emphatically, Gary shook his head. "Not gonna send you back, Nick."

But the kit didn't seem to hear. He raised his reddened eyes, a wordless plea within them. "You can hit me back!" he exclaimed. "As hard as you want. I don't care!"

"Nick, I'll never hit you. I'm never going to hurt you." Gary sighed and slumped. "That's the problem, right? You think I'm gonna hurt you?"

Nick didn't reply.

Gary peered at him for a moment. He noticed the kit had something in his paws, slightly concealed beneath one of the arms he had wrapped around his legs. So Gary tried to see what it was in the darkness of the room. When he realized what it was, his heart iced over.

"Is that for me?" he asked, somehow keeping his tone steady. "What you've got in your hand?"

The kit slowly lifted the object up, looking at it as if surprised to find it there.

It was a five inch bread-knife, one Gary had bought over the internet after seeing it literally saw an aluminum can in half - it was phenomenally sharp, and Nick was holding it tightly, concealing it somewhat, but apparently not even aware he still had it. It was obviously intended as a weapon.

Shaking, Nick just tossed the knife away, onto the bed. He said nothing, simply huddled up even tighter.

Gary swallowed. "Nick, I promise you I won't hurt you." Silence. "Shit. Nick... this was the experiment."

Still nothing.

"They w-wanted to see how kits like you would get along with... well." It felt like that knife had slipped right into Gary's ribcage as he tried to say the word. "Shit. Pedophiles. With a fuckin' pedophile."

Nick's ears flattened. "Like me? The fuck does that mean?"

"Delinquents," Gary responded directly. "Criminals. Juvenile offenders, whatever. Ones who didn't want to be adopted. To see if we could change your mind, change your behavior." The adult swore in a broken voice. "It's fucking stupid. I didn't know... Czejak never gave me any details. I didn't know what sort of shit you'd gone through; if I had, Nick, I wouldn't have agreed to this. I'm sorry."

"Wh-why?"

"Because they think w-we'd be, you know... not-assholes." Gary sighed. "We like you, hopefully you'll like us and the attention. But we're supposed to not just be fucking permissive idiots. I'm supposed to care about you, and not let you get sick from drinking booze and attacked by scum with gas tanks on my lawn. I fucked up, Nick."

Nick shook his head. "I don't mean that..."

"You mean, why wouldn't I have agreed?" The kit nodded and Gary swore. "Shit, Nick. Asshole foster parents and other miscellaneous pieces of shit have raped you, and they stick you with a guy like me. They're meant to be fucking doctors and psychologists. They should know better."

The kit seemed bemused. "You're not like them."

Gary opened his muzzle to reply, but he hesitated. Thoughtful. "N-no, I guess I'm not. Czejak always talked about that. Not all pedos are totally sick fucks who want to hurt kids - personally, I kinda like them." He laughed nervously. "I've never hurt one, never once fucking touched one. I swear."

"I know." Nick shivered. "I-I knew that. I just freaked out - o-one of my friends was in a home and this guy... B-but I know that n-not all of them are... L-like Chris and Kyle. And everyone who watched the videos had to be too, yeah." The kit paused. "I n-never thought about it until Chris talked to me 'bout it."

"You never thought about it?" Gary cocked an ear.

Nick nodded. "I didn't think that 'cause Chris got horny watching me an' Chase that..." He frowned, trying to word his point. "We were just screwing around. We just did stuff, didn't call furs stuff like that. I didn't get it."

"Labels," Gary said cryptically. "You didn't think of yourself as a kid, just as yourself, right? So you didn't realize that everyone who was watching you was probably a pedophile. You didn't label yourself, and so you didn't label them. I did that for the longest time with guys; took me ages to say 'oh shit, I like guys, that probaaaably means I'm gay'." The grownup smiled weakly. "You'd think that shit was obvious, huh?"

Nick nodded - that sounded right. Not that he was sure what Gary meant by 'labels.' He hadn't even heard the term 'pedophile' until Chris finally explained it, and he didn't like to be called a 'kid'... he never thought of himself that way. But that was the point. He wasn't just some kid - he was Nick. He was himself; a person with thoughts and feelings. Sometimes completely stupid thoughts and feelings...

When he saw what he saw in Gary's office, his brain had immediately jumped to the worst possible conclusion. It went on from there, beyond his control like a speeding train - he couldn't think clearly again until he felt the surprisingly brutal impact of his instinctively thrown fist on Gary's nose. It wasn't until Gary walked away that the realized what his stupid mind had made him do. It wasn't until hours later, hiding in his dark room with the knife he'd grabbed in case Gary wanted revenge that he realized just how badly he had fucked up.

It took all that time for his brain to put the pieces together. Chris, and many others, including the people who watched the very videos Nick helped make, weren't all bad furs. No matter what many of his so-called counselors tried to tell him.

He liked Gary, but he didn't know him. After all, it took about three weeks for his worst excuse of a foster parent to start really trying to hurt him. When he panicked, Nick's brain had quickly descended a horrible path of logic: Gary was an adult; he was a 'foster parent', much stronger than Nick; and Nick was effectively chained in his home...

Forced to stay with him for three weeks at least.

God damn. He had been a fucking retard. A crazy retard! He'd screwed things up once again! It was the exact same path his stupid brain went down at the end of the first week!

Thankfully, Gary interrupted him before he could punch himself in the face.

"A year or so ago..." the grownup began. "I went to see Czejak. He was the only therapist around I could get a hold of - I was lucky to pick him too. I could've got some asshole who just told me I was fucked in the head. A sick pervert; I knew I wasn't, not really."

Nick listened quietly, ears pricked.

"Um, alright. When I started to download porn, it was just guys my own age." Gary flushed under his fur. "But then I started looking at younger stuff, down to like eighteen or so. I didn't touch anything illegal, if you're wondering. So no, I haven't seen your videos." He smiled wanly. "I did move on to... like the stuff you saw earlier - always found that sort of stuff interesting, even when I was your age. Then one day, I was at a work party and my boss's son was there. I ended up getting stuck playing with him... he was a bit younger than you. Chased him around the pool, played football with him; got into a tickle fight. I felt really weird - kinda just, I dunno, happy."

Gary fell silent abruptly and closed his eyes.

"I just found myself being affectionate to him, you know?" He bit his lip. "His dad, my boss, was a total bastard to him. He just wanted a friend, and a grownup who didn't treat him like shit. So we stuck together like glue, man - end of the night, he was jumping on me, all sorts of stuff. When it was time to go, he gave me a hug. But the next day, I was fuckin' scared. I realized that all my workmates had seen me, you know, touching and tickling this kit. This older guy was touching a 'little boy.' I got scared. So that's why I went to see Czejak... and one day I had to just suck it up and admit it: I was one of those sick fucks everyone wants to kill." Gary wiped his eye. "One of those evil monsters everyone hates. I've felt this way since I was a kit myself but I never fucking admitted it. Every time I heard what furs said about them, I always told myself they weren't talking about me - they couldn't mean me. Czejak helped me deal with it. He just told me to relax, and said I... I wasn't a monster."

"... You were born that way."

Gary jumped. "What?"

Nick was staring at the carpet again. "It's what he told me. Same thing." The kit snorted softly.

"Y-yeah, I guess... I'd never hurt a kid, Nick. I don't want to hurt anybody - just want to be left alone. I didn't want to be what I am, you know?" With another sniff, Gary extended his legs. "When Czejak mentioned this experiment to me, I said 'sure!' Because I like kids, and I want to help. I want to understand, and know that I can beat this. I can control what I am and what I do."

"You didn't want a crazy fuck like me." Nick sighed.

There was a moment while Gary observed the kit. "You weren't what I expected," he admitted guardedly. "But I still like you, Nick. Still want to help. Before you think it, I mean I like you. You're your own person. Kids aren't things, I don't think of you like that. You're your own person, and you're kinda cool."

Nick didn't move. "I-I..."

"But I can't..." Gary interjected. "I can't have you here forever, Nick. I'm a shit parent. Someday you'll need to go either somewhere else, or back to the center. You can't stay with some sick pervert. You deserve a lot better than me." Nick's entire body seemed to electrify before Gary continued. "I want to keep you away from there as long as I can. But it can't last forever."

Nonetheless, Nick hung his head. "So you don't want me either. Yeah, whatever."

"No, Nick. The problem is I think I'm starting to." Gary groaned and changed position, his back starting to hurt. "You don't want that, and neither do I. Right?"

The kit didn't reply.

"I'm gonna get Czejak down here tomorrow... if I can. If he's available. I think he owes you an explanation."

That was good. Nick nodded tacitly. Czejak could help.

"Are you alright now?" Gary enquired solicitously. "A-are we cool?"

Nick snorted - he hadn't heard a grownup say that for a long time. "Yeah. We're cool."

"Alright..." With an explosive sigh of relief, Gary got to his feet-paws. "I have to go to sleep. Good night, Nick."

"Night."

When Gary left, making sure to take the knife with him, Nick stood and put on the light, returning promptly to his previous spot. He stared up at the ceiling.

Gary wasn't pissed at him. Or so it seemed.

Yet something still felt so horribly wrong to Nick - but it wasn't something Gary had said or done. Nick knew Gary had intended to ditch him eventually, but hearing it again, the kit felt a peculiar twinge. A tug on something deep inside of him.

So, Gary would look after Nick for a little while until either he sent Nick back to Wilder Springs, or another family took him.

But Nick knew he'd not want to go to another family. Even though he knew he no longer had a home elsewhere, he still didn't want to go back into the system, shunted from family to family, parent to parent. He couldn't handle that shit. Even if he resolved not to, Nick would sabotage every single placement; only a few adults had been cool with Nick, and he had only been cool with a few of them.

Going back to Wilder Springs...

As always, he had no choice. He wanted to stay, and Gary wanted rid of him. Just a matter of time.

He had to do something, he knew. He had fucked up too much - punching the much larger grownup right in the face had been just the crowning fuck-up. There was no way Gary could keep forgiving this shit. Gary had snapped at him once, no, twice, and both times made his blood freeze; but while most of the others Nick had been placed with would've struck him or worse by now, Gary hadn't hurt him, not once. He'd gone beyond that, and forgiven Nick every time.

That couldn't last forever. It didn't matter what Gary said, Nick could feel it. Past experience was telling him.

The kit rested his chin on his knees.

For nobody else would he have cleaned up the disaster he'd turned the basement into. For nobody else would he have shared so many secrets. Nobody else would he back down from, try to keep a lid on his fucking idiotic habits. Fight his stupid brain so bitterly.

But it wasn't enough. If he couldn't convince Gary to keep him, it'd be back to Wilder Springs. Eventually. Back to the detention center.

There was no way he could handle that. He'd sooner kill himself, the way some of the furs he knew on the streets had; some of them not much older than him.

It was time to admit everything. It made him shake with a thousand conflicting emotions, but he had to. He wanted to stay.

At all costs, he had to do something. But what?

With a greatly relieved sigh, Czejak pulled up to the side of the road.

The rain was crashing down, obscuring his windscreen and effectively blinding him. The storm had come up strong out of nowhere, but Czejak was glad he didn't have to navigate the slippery roads any more in it.

No, instead he had to get out and walk in it.

Groaning, he reached back for his umbrella and coat.

"Time to get wet!" he piped to himself, putting his arms through the jacket and readying himself to make a run for it. With as much agility as he could garner, the coyote pushed open the door of his car and dashed into the storm. He put up his umbrella, but it was a small portable thing - hardly offering any protection at all from the slashing rain.

To his great relief, Gary opened the door and ushered him in immediately.

When they both stumbled away from the doorway, the grownups started to laugh.

"Oh, thank goodness you were watching for me!" Czejak chortled, closing the umbrella.

Gary grinned widely. "Of course I was. I'd never seen you running anywhere before!"

"Sometimes it's necessary. Certainly not my own idea!" The coyote cleared his throat. "I've not got long today, Gary. Is Nick alright? Have you seen him since what happened last night?"

Gary nodded. "Yeah." He frowned. "He seems alright. Staying out of my way a little, seems distracted."

"Well, I suppose you're right. We owe him an explanation or two."

"He's in his room." Gary folded his arms. "I'm staying down here. This is between you two."

"Okay." Czejak moved towards the stairs. "However, given what's happened, I think I should talk to you as well. Is that alright?"

"Yeah. Later. It's not me who really needs you right now, doc."

They shared a brief smile, and Czejak climbed up the stairs, after first kicking his wet shoes off in the foyer. When he knocked on Nick's door he got no reply. So he slowly pushed it open. Nick was awake, standing, looking out his window at the roiling clouds. Or perhaps at Czejak's car. Likely was watching for him for quite some time.

The coyote opened his muzzle to speak, but Nick beat him to it.

"Hey," he muttered.

"Good morning, Nick." Czejak chuckled. "As you can see, I got my tail caught in the rain."

"At least you didn't have to sleep in it."

Czejak raised an ear - it was odd that Nick should mention his days without a home. "No, that's true." He peered at the back of the kit's head. "Are you feeling alright?"

"... Yeah."

"Gary explained everything, didn't he?"

Nick nodded.

They both fell silent, and Czejak continued to study the boy from behind. At last, he had to ask.

"Nick, are you planning on running away again?" he asked bluntly.

But the kit acted like he hadn't heard anything.

"Please don't, Nick. They'll catch you again and take you straight back to the center." Czejak stepped a little closer. "If you're worried about Gary, we can talk about it. I promise you're safe here."

"Not that." Nick shuffled. "... I'm not going back."

"Pardon?"

"I'm not going back!" Nick said loudly.

"If you're happy here, you don't have to."

The kit shook his head slowly. "No. I'm not gonna be here forever. Gary's gonna sick of me and send me back one day."

Czejak exhaled. "Nick... alright. I've got to speak to you about that."

"What?"

"I lied to you a little." The coyote paused. "Gary never wanted to adopt you. The original plan was just for a few months at the longest. It was just a short term foster placement."

Nick put a paw on the window to lean on.

"But I wasn't trying to trick you. Nick, you need to understand that Gary is afraid. He has lived his life alone, and he's scared about the idea of looking after you; the longer you're here, the better the chances that he'll realize things are working." Czejak sighed. "I could never have convinced him any other way."

The kit growled. "You fuckin' lied."

"I did. I'm sorry... I should've explained everything a little better. But Nick, I did tell you it was only a chance. We all had to try to make it work."

Nick glared over his shoulder. "You didn't tell me they were gonna keep me in there until I was eighteen!"

For a moment, Czejak just stared, caught off guard. "Oh."

"When Gary is sick of me, he'll just send me back there!" Nick tensed.

"I'm going to talk to him about that."

The kit whirled around. "Yeah?!" he snapped angrily. "Gonna lie to him too? Not tell him stuff? Get him to fucking do what you want?! Rrgh!" Nick turned around again and smashed a forearm into the window. Miraculously it didn't break. "I'm sick of this!!"

Czejak swallowed. When Nick got like this, it was difficult to calm him down; and he really needed the boy to hear him out. "Nick, listen-"

"No, you fucking listen!" Nick's voice cracked and once again he turned to face his counselor. "I'm not going back there! I won't!" Unexpectedly, he wiped an eye. "Why doesn't anyone ask what I fucking want? You don't even care! Because... because when I go back to that place, you'll be in your big fucking home, with your fucking car and all your money and shit! Doing whatever you want! You don't know what it's like! How much money you getting from this fucking experiment, huh? How much do they pay you to pretend like you give a shit about me!?"

Nick had started to cry, and had looked away. That was unusual. His mood was unusual, and that worried Czejak even more. "Nick, that's not true, I-"

"You're just like the others."

The counselor blinked. "Others?"

"You fucking heard. The same as every other dickhead they put in charge of me. Just lying and not listening." Nick exhaled loudly through clenched teeth. "They didn't care. They didn't give a shit. Wouldn't give a shit if I just die! Admit it. Why the fuck would you care?"

"Nick... we've talked about this before."

Drawing in on himself, Nick looked out the window again. "Nobody cared. They put me with that guy, and nobody stopped him. People like you, just wanting me to do what they want. Don't care so long as you're making fucking money. You don't know what it's like. You don't give a shit about me. Just fuck off and leave me alone."

Not wanting to give the kit a chance for another outburst, Czejak spoke quickly. "Nick, I'm helping to pay for this experiment; it's costing me sixty-thousand dollars and a lot of personal favors." The coyote sighed and leaned on the wall. "As for looking after kits like you, I get paid almost nothing. I made more money from Gary's few visits than from the thirty or so adopted or foster kids I saw all last month."

"Whatever." Nick sniffed and backed into the corner of the room. He sat down heavily. "Bull. Shit."

Czejak just stared at the boy, who seemed to wilt hopelessly against the wall. Sour suspicion and dejection stood clear on the feline's haunted face.

The coyote hung his head, suddenly ashamed. Yes, he had lied - seeking to protect Nick from his own depression. To protect the boy from his own reaction to the news he would be incarcerated for practically as long as he had been truly self-aware. The same way they had tried to protect him from the knowledge he was being placed with a pedophile. Something he surely would've wanted to know beforehand.

Was it so wrong? To lie with the best of interests?

But, somehow, Czejak found himself answering that question the opposite way to usual. Somehow he knew it just simply was wrong to lie to Nick, to bind him with ignorance and manipulation as much as with walls and restraints. Self-disgust unsettled the coyote's stomach. Lying to a child about his life was low, and, at best only, a necessary evil. One that may not have been necessary with Nick - to Nick, some distress would be worth nothing in comparison to knowing he could trust an adult in charge of his life. For once.

So that was another important promise to a vulnerable child that Czejak had broken. Another promise of honesty he had overlooked for momentary convenience. Damn it.

It hurt to admit, but it was true. The coyote eyed the kit again thoughtfully.

He had never told any of his patients... but maybe Nick was the first who needed to know.

"I think," Czejak murmured, "that you just taught me a lesson, Nick. I'm sorry."

"Stop lying."

Wincing, Czejak knelt. "As for how much I care about you... There's someone I want to tell you about. I think you deserve to know."

Nick ignored him determinedly.

Czejak sat down, closing his eyes. Trying to remember details he had long wished to forget. "Nick... when I started to work for the Child Protective Services, I had just graduated from university. Knew exactly what I wanted to do, you know."

"I don't care."

The coyote continued anyway. He knew that Nick would be far more aggressive if the kit meant what he was saying.

Besides. He wanted to tell the boy. "I was suddenly given six cases in just one week. Six different boys and girls with all kinds of problems."

"Fucked up 'delinquents' like me." Nick spat on the carpet. "Criminals. Punks. Whatever you call us when you think we're not listening."

"You're not a criminal, Nick. You're a good, intelligent kid." Czejak scratched his arm. "Like you, they were just furs. That's all. But they all had problems with their lives. Bad parents; screwed over by the system - and make no mistake, Nick, you're right and I agree. The foster care system is broken, and too many young furs are being hurt by it. You're not the first to tell me about it, and I've seen how bad it is myself.

"I tried my best at first. Was always there for them - gave them my cell phone number and everything. Always did everything I could, but then they started giving me more, and more, and more cases. One day, I woke up and realized I had to see thirteen boys and girls just in that one day. There was no way I could give them the help they needed..." Czejak paused. "I was twenty-five. I started crying when I saw myself in the mirror that morning. I had no friends, nothing. I had made my job my life; I had always wanted to help other, but now I..."

Nick sighed impatiently.

"One day, one of my earliest cases, a young dingo called Riley, called me. He had been transferred to another social worker over a year ago, but he called me instead. I knew something was wrong, but he wouldn't tell me anything over the phone. He- he was slightly autistic, and was very shy." All of a sudden Czejak took in a whimpering breath. "By that time, I was starting to make excuses. I didn't show up to interviews, didn't keep promises. I wanted to live now, so I was out most nights. Going to restaurants, clubs, sometimes just sitting by myself at home, or with friends... having a few joints."

The cheetah kit blinked. "What? You?"

"Oh yes. Anything to help myself relax." Czejak sniffed. "I still cared. I still tried to be there for the kids, but I started to spend more and more time screwing around. Convincing myself that I was just 'taking a break so I could do my best.' It went too far. I wasn't doing my job - and worse, nobody was telling me off for it. When that boy called, he wanted to speak with me that Friday. I said I couldn't, because I was 'busy', so I'd see him on Monday."

The coyote stopped talking and wrung his paws. After a moment, he continued. "On Monday, I felt ill and had too much paperwork to catch up on. So I decided to reschedule again - I'd see Riley on Wednesday, the first chance I got. I tried to contact him, but I couldn't reach him after my first call. I didn't bother to try again." Czejak hesitated. Then, suddenly, his features twisted in anguish. "On Tuesday, his foster father beat him, and then strangled him to death in his bed."

At last, Nick's head snapped up.

The counselor sobbed. "I had no excuse, Nick. At least the guy he had been transferred to, he had one! It was my fault, because I was so selfish... Christ!"

Nick swallowed, staring at Czejak. He had never seen the quiet, cheerful coyote this way.

"A-all I had to do... was listen. It wasn't anything hard, it never was! I just had to listen, like I'd promised him I would..." Czejak buried his head in his paws with a sob. "The way I'd promised, and made him think I would. But I didn't keep my promise. I-I knew something was wrong, but I did nothing because I wanted to take a night off. I had told myself that he wasn't my responsibility; that I'd get around to helping him when I was ready, and had finished my pointless fucking paperwork! I betrayed him. I'd betrayed that child the moment I gave his case to someone else. I got a little boy killed, Nick."

Immediately, Nick flared up. "No you didn't!"

But Czejak didn't seem to hear. "He was ten. I had known him since he was six." The coyote opened his wallet and glanced at it. "The guardian he'd been put with... he'd seemed normal at first. But when he had a gentle, happy, mentally disabled boy in his power, he had anger problems. Riley - he was punched, kicked, thrown across rooms, and he had never told anybody. He probably blamed himself; then he was murdered. All it would've taken was for someone to listen to him, to let him know they gave a damn! So he'd tell them!

"I, uh... I took a long time to recover. Then I realized... the paperwork doesn't matter. That there are assholes that get into this worthless, money-hungry industry for the wrong reasons. That the most important thing was the kids we were supposed to care for - and I'd do whatever I could to make sure another didn't die because of me. Riley was always my responsibility; wherever I can help, it is my responsibility." He sniffed. "It took a little boy dying for me to understand that. When I discovered places like Wilder Springs, hidden away from public eye, I decided to do what I could there, too."

The coyote looked up and met Nick's gaze. There was an intensity in the counselor's eyes that Nick had never seen before, and he couldn't look away.

"How much do I care about you, Nick?" Czejak said quietly, wiping his nose. "Make no mistake. If I got any idea that you, or any other of the kids I'm responsible for, had their life threatened by some jackass ever again..."

After a second, Nick lowered his eyes. "I know..." he mumbled softly.

Composing themselves, the two just stared at the empty space on the floor between them.

"Nick... I don't ever want to see you go back to Wilder Springs - but the streets are just as bad. Maybe worse. I don't know."

"... Whatever."

"Are you worried about Gary? You understand, don't you? He won't hurt you, or touch you in a way you don't want." Czejak grinned. "I mean, a gay guy doesn't just pounce on any guy walking by, and not all straight guys are rapists. He won't touch you unless you want him to."

"I know. I don't care." Nick scratched his leg. "I just freaked out because... I th-thought I'd... I thought you put me with another guy that was gonna hurt me. I'm just fuckin' crazy. Never mind."

Czejak nodded. "I know. But Gary won't. I promise you - and if he does, he'll pay. I'll protect you. I promise." The coyote hesitated a moment. "They're panic attacks."

"What?"

"It's what they're called." Czejak smiled slightly. "You're not crazy, Nick. When you get scared, even when nothing is happening that should be frightening, it's called a panic attack."

Nick looked away, somewhere between embarrassed and angry.

"You were good at hiding them." The counselor sighed. "I wish you hadn't been. I could've diagnosed this sooner. You have Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Nick. Because of what that asshole did to you; because of all the bullshit you've been through. Panic attacks are a part of that. It might be why you have trouble sleeping too. You're not crazy."

"... What does it matter?" mumbled Nick irritably. "Same thing."

"It matters. It means it can be dealt with."

"I'm not taking any fucking drugs."

"Then we'll see what we can do without any." The doc waited a moment. "Nick, be honest. Do you want to stay? Do you want to stay with Gary?"

A long, silent pause later, the kit nodded.

"Alright. Now it's up to both of us to change his mind. We have time. He's already thinking about it - I know he likes you. He'll realize it... but you've got to do something as well."

"What?"

"You need to let him know you want to stay, Nick. You've got to tell him."

Nick's eyes unfocused. "Y-yeah..."

The water pipes squealed when Gary twisted the tap, finally bringing his ten minute shower to a close.

It was time for the weekly ritual, he had deemed. Since Czejak left the previous morning, Nick had more or less left him alone, so he had time.

Already, he had lathered himself with ridiculous amounts of conditioner and shampoo all over, and the stench of peaches, as well as the density of the fog that practically blinded him now, was overpowering. It seemed that he'd forgotten to open the window.

Chortling, he stepped out of the shower onto the non-slip mat and took a hold of the window. It was a misted glass, so he had no concern about seen as he opened it slightly. Almost immediately the hot steam whooshed outside, exchanging position with the frigid yet equally moist air outside the house.

Gary went to work toweling himself off. Always a chore.

After a second, he decided the balmy mist wasn't dissipating fast enough, so he paused to thrust open the bathroom door into his master bedroom. The improvement was almost immediate, and he decided to just leave it open.

Adroitly, he started patting everything down. It was too cold and wet to not do a good enough job of drying himself, even with the central heating set so high.

Wrapping the towel around his narrow waist, the cheetah snatched up his toothbrush and prepared to get started on phase two.

Movement reflected in the foggy mirror, however, almost caused him to drop the brush.

"Whoa, shit!" he gasped, turning around.

The bedroom door had been left open, and a slightly abashed cub had found his way in. However, he seemed reluctant to come any closer.

"Jesus, Nick!" Gary put the toothbrush on the countertop. "You're like a ninja. What's up?"

The kit shuffled slightly. "N-nothin' man," he muttered. "I saw you open the door, thought you were done."

Gary peered at him for a moment. Somehow, possibly due to the kit's stance or expression, he got the feeling that was the truth. Nick had only just entered the bedroom.

Nonetheless, Gary felt a little uneasy, fingering the towel about his waist. He absently tightened it. "Uh, well, what's up?"

Nick didn't seem to have an answer ready. After a moment, he shrugged.

"Just wanted to see what was up?" Gary smiled slightly. It did seem that, in spite of the previous night, Nick still wanted to be around him. He had shown that throughout the day.

"Yeah." Nick curiously inspected Gary's bed - its soft linen sheets scrupulously made with hospital corners and tucked edges. But Gary strongly suspected a ruse. Nick wanted to say something, and wasn't sure how to begin.

They'd both been in that situation by now.

The kit swayed a little. "Uh, have you got any of that bubble-shit? Stuff you put in to make bubbles?"

"You mean for the bath?" Gary looked around the still foggy bathroom. "Bubble-bath? I don't think so."

Nick nodded. Clearly not the real reason the kit was in the room.

Gary reached into the shower a pulled out a clear bottle of white liquid. "Here." He stepped into the bedroom, offering it to Nick. "There's maybe one wash in this left." Baffled, Nick eventually took it, with the obvious air of someone who didn't know what to do with it. "You can use what's left of it, just put it in the bath and it should make a shit-load of bubbles."

"Oh, right." The boy stepped back. He glanced furtively at the adult, running his eyes over the adult's exposed torso and arms; Gary flushed a little, even though he realized the kit would probably be twice as embarrassed if he called him out on it.

Instead, he coughed. "Of course, you could... Hrm. Never mind."

Nick frowned slightly. "What?"

"Well." Gary scratched his head nonchalantly. "You should use it on yourself. Trust me, it'll make enough bubbles and you should see what it does to your fur. It'll make more bubbles if you use it on your fur first, actually."

The kit eyed the bottle.

"Yeah, I use it all the time," added Gary. "You know. Makes a huge difference. Give it a shot; use some of the stuff I've got in there for you. You might like it."

Nick lowered the bottle of shampoo and shrugged. "Whatever."

"Might get your fur white instead of gray." Gary turned, though out the corner of his eye he did see Nick surreptitiously check the fur underneath his forearm. Once again, the adult started to towel his head-fur. "You hungry?"

"... I guess."

"Alright. I've got some stuff to do, and then I'll see what I can make." Gary lowered the towel from his head. "Nick?"

"What?"

"What made you think of bubble bath?"

Nick shrugged.

Gary smiled. "Must've been a long time since you had one, right?" he said gently.

The kit slung a slightly annoyed frown at him. "Yeah."

"Well, there's other stuff in there too. Use that stuff, then try the red bottle as well. Not only will you have a shit-load of bubbles, but check out what it does to your fur." The grownup raised an eyebrow. "Now unless you want an adult cheetah strip-show, you should go try it out now."

After a second, a smirk tilted the corner of Nick's muzzle. "Whatever. Not like you got anything I haven't seen before."

"You never know." Gary smirked back. "Go on man, I've gotta get dressed. I work better without an audience."

Still smirking, Nick turned and ambled back out the room, looking at the bottle in his paws.

Exhaling, Gary shut the bathroom door and unwrapped the towel from his waist.

What an odd kid. Still, Gary hoped he'd put the shampoo and conditioner to use. He was relatively fastidious, and seeing Nick's dirty fur was starting to irk him. It was irrational, but it was true nonetheless.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Gary had started to feel responsible for the kit now. He felt that he had to at least try to make Nick want to clean himself up a little.

Not force him to, or coerce him. Gary felt that was fundamentally wrong, especially to do to Nick; he wanted to change the kit's preference, not try to make the boy do what he wanted. That was a very, very different thing. It made sense to Gary at least.

As he put aside his towel and slipped into his pants again, Gary heard the pipes squeak - water once more starting to flow through them.

A grin worked its way onto Gary's face.

If he was right, he had just maneuvered Nick into using conditioner for the first time in what likely was years, if ever.

"Oh yeah," he congratulated himself, doing his fly up. "You're awesome, Gary. You're awesome."

This time, Nick was already beneath the showerhead when he twisted the taps almost violently. Absently, he had stridden into the guest bathroom, thrown aside his clothes and gotten into the tub.

As the water crashed down from above, the kit just closed his eyes and let the almost scalding water soak his fur. The plastic leech on his ankle could fuck off.

It was too hard. How could he ever ask Gary if he could stay? Or tell him that he wanted to? Why did he feel like he had to admit it to Gary now? They had time; Gary wasn't going to make him leave for a little while. Hopefully.

But he wanted to know now.

It sucked not knowing what was going to happen - badly. Maybe it would be months until Gary gave up on him; maybe not. The idea was worrying him and he wanted it to stop.

Not only couldn't he think of how to even broach the topic to the towel-clad grownup, his mind chose the moment Gary noticed him to start its usual shit.

"Why the fuck would he want you?" it asked him suddenly.

And he had no answer.

His counselor had to be wrong. Or lying. Gary couldn't want him to stay. Nobody else ever did, and nothing had really changed since his last placement.

That hurt even more, he realized, getting to his knees in the rising water. He wanted Gary to like him, because he was starting to like the adult. But he always felt -

For a moment, everything faded into a strange, indistinct grayness, and Nick felt himself falling. When his sight returned, he found himself collapsed against on the rim of the bathtub. Oddly weak and disoriented.

"What the fuck?" he asked aloud, straightening again. Confused, he looked around. There was nothing except the dense, balmy mist in the bathroom.

Blinking slowly, he settled against the side of the tub. That was strange. His eyes had just stopped working, and it was as if he had moved somehow.

Whatever. Probably something to do with the steam. Messing with his eyes or some shit.

Though he did feel weird. Tired, and a little spaced out. Shaking his head to clear it, he refocused on more important matters.

Even if his counselor was right, though, Nick understood he'd need to do more than just let Gary know he wanted to stay. Nick wasn't stupid, he understood that things cost money - even the shower he was taking now was going to take a bite out of Gary's wallet. His friends had, ironically, taught him some degree of responsibility with these things.

So looking after Nick would cost Gary money. Nick couldn't work, he knew that. He also doubted Gary would let him steal shit for him - and last time he did that, he got caught. So Nick knew he needed to do something, because otherwise Gary wouldn't want to put up with his craziness.

Gary had no reason to let him stay. He wouldn't just keep looking after him for free.

Was there anything he could do? He'd pondered the issue all last night, but come up with nothing.

Absently, he scratched his stomach and reached for the shampoo. He popped the cap and peered into the bottle, while a strong peachy scent hit his sensitive nose.

Bubble-bath. What a fucking stupid idea. Way to look like a little kit.

Nonetheless, he squirted some into his paws. It felt weird. Gross, but in an alright way. As he wrung his paws, a thick, pungent lather was quickly worked up and almost immediately there was a layer of bubbles on the hot water's surface, spread and encouraged by the falling water from the shower.

Well, at least it worked. Sighing, Nick staggered back to his feet and squirted some more of the stuff into his paws.

This time, he applied it to his stomach and chest. It felt sort of neat, touching himself like that. A... what was it? A massage? Chase used to give him those; felt much nicer when it was someone else doing it.

The pungent liquid slicking up his paws made it feel even better.

Yeah, he could see why Gary suggested he use it. It stank powerfully, but it was a pleasant smell and despite his efforts not long ago at getting the gasoline out of his fur, the water and bubbles discolored more and more as the shampoo removed yet more grime and dirt. Nick didn't usually care much about his appearance but it wasn't exactly unpleasant to use the stuff - maybe Gary was trying to get him to clean himself up. Whatever.

Fuck, and Gary had probably noticed Nick staring at him when he was just in that towel.

It wasn't that. Nick was just looking, processing the differences between his current guardian and the one from years ago. But, like, yeah, he guessed Gary looked pretty good. Way better than that guy. By comparison, kinda hot - Nick wasn't a stupid little kit. He was eleven, he knew when he thought someone was hot. Not that he wanted to stare or anything... he hadn't even thought about it in that way. Shit. Gary was a guardian, a foster-parent; they'd talked about it but they'd never -

Nick froze, his breath suddenly stolen away.

"Oh, shit," the boy whispered, looking down at his skinny, wet form, scarcely visible in the dense fog that enshrouded it.

After a moment, he checked behind him, staggering as his balance deserted him briefly. As he remembered, there was yet more of this shampoo stuff there too.

He swallowed. Hard.

"Oh shit."

The dishwasher rumbled away by his side, again, as Gary lethargically tore open a packet of diced chicken. He wasn't really paying too much attention, and didn't even realize he was in the process of preparing a chicken curry until he'd already made the sauce.

It seemed he just needed something to distract him; whenever he sought distraction, unlike Nick, he couldn't just hide in his room, or his office. He spent too much time there - far from a save haven, those places were where his work was. So Gary had decided to visit the kitchen and prepare dinner.

The barely functional dishwasher gurgled, struggling as Nick continued to draw water upstairs for his shower. Gary didn't mind if Nick's bathing sessions were long ones. Wasn't like Nick took them often, and he could do with even longer ones. Besides, the dishwasher was only going because he wanted to try out a liquid soap instead of the crumbling tablets.

Sighing, Gary dropped the chicken into the saucepan, ready to poach it.

He really should get the kit out of there. Now that he thought about it, an hour really was pushing it.

Just as he finished drying his paws, the water stopped running. Even the dishwasher gave a clunk and started to drain.

"Huh. Nice timing." Gary lifted the saucepan onto the stovetop.

Though he had started to make it on autopilot, really he was looking forwards to the curry. He'd always loved it - a favorite of his, especially when made by his mother. Oddly enough, he really hoped Nick would love it too.

He snorted derisively. That was asking too much. As far as Gary could tell, nobody in their right mind would like his cooking.

It was several minutes later when he heard someone walking slowly and unevenly down the stairs, so he decided to go and greet the boy.

Nick stopped in the foyer when Gary poked his head around the corner. His ears were flat and his tail hung limply behind him. Having just got out of the shower, he hadn't put his hooded t-shirt back on yet. The shirtless kit had a strange, haunted, exhausted look on his face, and he just groaned vaguely at Gary.

"Hey, Nick," Gary said. "Just making something for us to eat. Smells good, right?"

Nick nodded and turned around, making his way into the den for some reason. Bemused, Gary watched. The kit seemed like even more of a zombie than usual.

"Nick, are you-?"

Before Gary could even finish his sentence, Nick took one step down into the living room and then suddenly crumpled on the spot. His legs simply ceased to support his weight, so he collapsed with a loud thud. Lifelessly, the kit slithered down the remaining two steps to lie in a twisted heap of limbs.

Gary was running before he realized it.

Horrified, he leapt clear over the slight body and spun around, falling to his knees by the boy's side. Nick's eyes were closed, and he wasn't moving...

"Oh, shit! Oh shiiiiiiiiiit!!"

It had been hours...What the hell should he do?

With a trembling, tingling paw, Gary felt for the kit's pulse again - still fearing the worst. But it was still there, throbbing regularly in the slender neck, as it had been the last six times he checked in the hour.

Nick was unconscious, but still alive. Gary knelt down and sat by the couch he had so carefully moved the boy to.

He knew he should call someone - emergency services, perhaps - but Gary felt almost frozen. Having never called '911' before, and knowing his charge's aversion to being taken to hospital, he wasn't sure if it was a good idea at all.

Thankfully, Nick was definitely still alive. There were occasional changes in his breathing, lethargic adjustments of position and just general indications that the boy was, in fact, in a deep sleep.

Not dead. Not comatose.

It had been hours now, though, and Gary already had his cell phone in his paw - he would try again to wake the kit. He contemplated calling the local hospital either way. Nick had collapsed like a pole-axed deer; it warranted an appointment if nothing else.

He'd heard tales of adolescents fainting before, but...

At last, Nick stirred. His eyes fluttered and he took a deep breath. After several seconds, he managed to glance around, an exhausted, almost apathetic, confusion on his face. Those gray eyes fell upon Gary's face, and after a second the kit's expression changed to one of recognition.

"Nick!" Gary gasped. "Oh, thank god you're awake!"

Ignoring the adult, the kit seemed to quickly take inventory of himself. He tried to sit up on his elbows, but seemed weak.

"Wh-what the fuck?" he asked. "What happened?"

Gary fell to his backside. "Y-you passed out! Just fucking fainted!" He held up his cell phone. "I was just about to call the ambulance when you woke up."

Blearily, Nick stared at the phone. Then he shook his head. "I'm good..." He took a deep breath. "How long did I sleep for?"

"A-a few hours. About three." Gary sighed. "I had to keep checking your pulse. What happened?"

Nick frowned. "I-I think I fell asleep standing up." After a moment, he snorted. "Shit, never done that before."

"Jesus." Gary buried his face in his paws. "Don't do it again. I was so fucking worried."

The kit stared blankly for a moment.

After a moment, Gary rubbed his eyes. "Fuck, it was my fault, wasn't it?" he groaned. "Not been feeding you; giving you fucking booze; I bet it's the god damn booze that's been keeping you up."

Without the energy to object more vociferously, Nick just shook his head. "It's not that."

Gary looked up. "What is it then?"

Nick averted his gaze. "I just can't sleep..." He shifted on the couch, trying to put more distance between him and Gary.

The grownup noticed and moved away as well, scooting backwards on the carpet. "Why?"

No reply, as Nick curled up under the sheets.

"Alright." Gary sighed and made to stand. "Are you alright now? I think I gotta lie down."

"Wait." Nick swallowed. "Don't."

"You don't want me to leave?"

"Just stay." The boy glanced nervously up at the grownup.

When he recovered from the surprise, Gary wordlessly sat cross-legged. He tried to search the kid's face, but it was, once again, unreadable. "What's wrong, Nick?"

Nick stared into middle distance for a moment. "Why did you pick me?" he breathed.

"Y-you know already." Gary frowned. "I mean, Czejak really picked you."

Nick shivered slightly. "No... I mean..." He trailed off.

The grownup cocked his head. "What? What's up?"

"Y-you're gay, right? You like guys?"

Instantly, Gary felt his face grow hot. "Uh, I guess. What are you getting at?"

The kit took a deep breath and held it for a split second. "What about... you know?"

Gary blanched. "B-boys?" he offered before he could stop himself. "N-Nick, where are you going with this? You a-already know--"

"Is that why?" Nick was, by now, looking with intense focus at the blue fabric of his blanket.

"Oh, fuck!" Gary reeled. Was this what Nick was thinking about in the shower?! "God, no, no! Nick, it was never about that for me. I didn't pick you for that at all."

"Yeah," mumbled the kit, briefly closing his eyes. "Why would you."

For a second, Gary didn't understand. He blinked. "Hey, wait a minute, I didn't say that."

"Whatever."

"Nick, you're a good-looking kid."

Nick snorted bitterly. "Fuck off."

"I swear!"

"Whatever." The kit gave a sour grunt.

Gary smiled nervously. "W-well, let's see... I like your smile. And your laugh."

Bewildered, Nick shot him a lost look. "W-what?" he stammered. "N-no, I mean, like--shit."

The grownup coughed. "Yeah, I know what you meant. But it's true as well." Gary held his breath for a moment. "Y-yeah. Uh. L-look, I don't want to creep you out or anything, but you're not ugly. No fucking way. Could've done with a bath when I first saw you, maybe..."

Nick thought about that for a minute. Gary wasn't sure, but it looked like the boy was trembling.

What the hell was going on? After last night's bizarre confrontation this line of questioning was expected, but the way Nick was going about it really seemed strange.

A premonition struck, and Gary realized something was going to go wrong, very soon.

"S-so that's not why..." Nick mused aloud.

"No, it wasn't." Gary sighed. "It was part of the experiment though. We didn't have to, but part of the experiment was to see what, uh, what benefits we might get if we, you know, got like that. That sort of relationship."

After a second, Nick nodded.

"So... they wanted to see if it'd help if we ended up... screwing around together. But I didn't think you would ever like me, Nick; and when I heard about your past, I said I wouldn't even think about it." The adult shifted uncomfortably. "I forgot all about it. I didn't even want to do, well, the thing you caught me doing, not while you were here."

A sick little knot formed in Gary's stomach just mentioning that. That night, he had lost his resolve suddenly, and he felt he could get away quickly relieving himself.

It had been hard. He fought hard and valiantly to keep 'dirty', prurient thoughts out of his head whenever it came to Nick - the boy was a victim of rape, and already afraid of him. Afraid of any adult male. Even those mere, harmless thoughts Gary forbade himself. But, bathing the gas-soaked boy? Enduring the sight of him in merely his briefs all day? Though the worst, and arguably funniest of them all, was when he walked in on Nick in the basement.

It was no lie. Nick was a good looking boy.

"But," Gary continued, "I wasn't going to touch you. I wasn't going to, I swear, Nick. I'd never hurt you. I'd never touch you like that."

A terrible pause made him feel slightly sick. But Nick just seemed lost in thought for several moments. Still scrutinizing his blanket as if it were the most interesting mosaic.

Suddenly, that premonition was proven right.

"Wh-why not?"

It didn't register immediately, but when it did, Gary sat bolt upright and gawked at the kit. Nick hadn't looked up.

"Wh-what?" asked Gary in a tiny voice. "What do you mean?"

"... I-it's no big deal. D-do you want to?"

"W-want to what?" Something was thumping repeatedly in his ears now like someone had crept up on him with a massive drum. "N-Nick?"

"You know what, man..." Nick swallowed. "Come on."

"Nick!" Gary gasped, his muzzle going desert-dry. "I-I... don't know!"

The kit squirmed a little beneath the blankets. Slowly he started to push the blankets down, kicking it away with one foot-paw.

Gary found himself staring at the kit's white underwear once again. His heart flip-flopped in his chest and his stomach abruptly inverted.

Taking a shaky breath, Nick finally made eye contact with the seated grownup. "Hey," he mumbled. "T-take your shirt off."

"H-huh?"

"C'mon. You saw me with fuck all on." Nick lifted a knee to scratch it absently. "I don't give a shit."

"Nick, I don't think we should-"

The kit looked away. "I want to." There was an odd catch in his voice. A plea.

Gary laid a paw on his chest, pressing in firmly as if he could somehow stop the staccato beat from rattling his entire body. Lightheaded all of a sudden, he realized his shallow breathing was coming now at a frightening pace.

Was Nick really...? This was crazy. What was going on? Had he and Nick really gotten to that point already? It was clumsy, but Nick was trying to seduce him.

Before he could stop himself, his fingers had gone to his gray t-shirt's hem and he was pulling it over his head. He tossed the shirt over to the recliner.

In spite of himself, he smirked at the kit. "Like what you see?" he said playfully. Trying to lighten the mood.

"Stand up, I can't see shit..." Nick's gruff voice was still quiet and shaky. Gary obliged, and Nick rather shyly looked over him.

Nick tried to steady himself, and looked the adult over more intently. Gary's stomach was flat, and his arms defined beneath his fur - some musculature was visible, beneath the impeccably clean and defined fur. Gary toyed with his ear-stud, an abashed smile on his face, the attention making his heart flutter.

"Uh, believe it or not, I hit the gym pretty often," the grownup suddenly admitted. "At least a few times a week. Not been doing it since you got here. It's one of the only things I get to do out here."

Nick nodded absently. Though nowhere near as intimidating, or as bulky, as some other adults Nick had met, it was clear Gary was way stronger even than Nick realized. It was a good thing he didn't take Nick's offer to punch him back.

"S-so..." Gary laughed nervously. "You like boys, don't you?"

The kit shrugged. "Yeah."

"... Soooo, how about guys?"

There was a pause. Then Nick snorted. "Yeah, whatever." Holding his breath for some reason, he arched his hips and took a hold of his briefs' waistband.

Out of reflex, Gary shut his eyes. But he realized just how stupid he was being, and cracked them back open.

Nick was trembling on the couch now, pulling his underwear off the ankle he'd brought towards his face. It had snagged on his tether.

The cheetah boy had looked away. Gary found himself staring, looking at the slender, nude body.

Yes, he had seen it before. But the situation then was dire, and there were more important things on Gary's mind. Now, with Nick lying flat out on the couch, deliberately trying to get Gary to look him over... it was very different.

Nick was a long-limbed, skinny kit; laid out like that, his chest and stomach were tight and slightly concave, and beneath the short fur Gary could see the movement of his quivering muscles.

Just a little below that was something far more... scandalous.

A small paw had drifted there as well, and it lightly touched the area; perhaps even purposefully drawing Gary's attention to it. The adult almost fainted.

What was he doing? Gary knew he should stop this right now, but he couldn't!! He couldn't reject Nick, not like this.

Could he?

Why was Nick doing this?!

Worse, why was it working?

The little organ Nick's paw was loitering about was certainly small. Smaller even, proportionally speaking, than Nick was to Gary. Nick was probably barely into puberty, if it had started at all.

Nonetheless, Gary found himself staring at the smooth little object, albeit mostly out of shock.

"What..." he asked, his muzzle producing sounds while his brain was oddly absent, "do you want me to do?"

"I dunno." Nick spread his legs slightly, bending a knee. "Just do whatever, man. Don't be pussy."

Gary reached out hesitantly, getting to his knees and shuffling closer. "I-I've never..." He faltered. "I..."

The kit gave a half-smile. "It's not some big fuckin' deal," he said. "... Right?"

"R-right..." But Gary's body locked up, unwilling to move in any way. "N-Nick, why? I-I can't-"

"If you don't want to, you don't have to."

That last sentence sounded, at least to Gary, sullen. But if that was because Nick was upset at Gary's seeming reluctance or... Did Nick really want to do this? If not, why was he...? Did he want to, but was he also extremely nervous about it?

Yet it was plain that whatever happened now was going to be perhaps the most important thing that they had done so far. The direst choice, with the deepest consequences.

It was hard to gauge the kit's mood, his true feelings. Even when Nick seemed to be wearing his emotions brazenly on his sleeves, Gary knew it wasn't that simple. Anger hid embarrassment and fear. Disinterest hid interest. At times, when he willingly dropped his guard, he seemed to be brutally honest and open; at others, he protected himself with a well rehearsed, no, instinctive act.

With his gray eyes averted and expression blank, nothing indicated to Gary's untrained mind whether this was another act of the kit's. Or rather, just how much of it was.

No way to know what he really wanted.

So he bit his lip for a moment. "Like your friends?" he asked. "Your friends never made you do anything you didn't want to, did they?"

Nick frowned briefly. "No, that was the rule." Now Gary thought he sounded bitter.

"Well, like them..." The adult forced himself to move, getting to his knees and shuffling forward until he was at the couch's edge. "If you don't want me to do anything to you, tell me. I'll stop, Nick. I won't make you do anything you don't want."

The kit nodded and closed his eyes. His heart thumping in his ears, Gary reached out.

Immediately, Nick flinched, letting out a strained gasp. When Gary tried to pull his paw away, though, Nick protested. "Don't!" he insisted. Gary froze again, torn. After a moment, Nick groaned and curled into a ball, facing him but with his eyes tightly closed. "No! Fuck!"

"Nick, what's wrong?!"

A paw snaked out and grabbed his upper arm. For a split second, it pulled him closer, then seemed to be trying to push him away, trying to make Gary turn away from the kit's face... yet it didn't let go.

Nick sobbed in what seemed to be frustration, his breathing now coming at an alarming pace - Gary could only watch in confusion and horror as the boy constricted himself tighter, clutching his arm in a veritable death grip. But words failed him. This was... nonsensical. Nick just seemed to be holding on to him while he went through some sort of emotional paroxysm, fighting through something Gary couldn't understand.

Almost, almost he made up his mind to stop this before it got any more bizarre. Before his resolve weakened further. Somehow, however, he understood something that made even less sense, that threw him into confusion: Nick didn't want him to leave. He was digging his claws into Gary's arm painfully, trying to control the adult's position... but he wasn't fleeing. He wasn't fighting.

He wanted Gary to stay exactly where he was.

At last he confirmed that. "Shit!" Nick cursed urgently. "Don't go. Don't. I want to. I wanna do this."

"Nick... are you sure?" Nonetheless, a small voice in the back of Gary's skull was urging him to stop - something was very wrong here. "Are you okay?"

"Yes!" Nick held his breath and seemed to calm down. "... J-just wait..."

Gary did so, just watching his charge with concerned, baffled eyes. His mind was racing - he couldn't think straight.

Perhaps it was that that made him choose his next few words.

"Nick," he said firmly. "I'll never hurt you. If you really want me to do this... I won't hurt you."

It was almost a minute later that Nick started to uncurl, once more lying on his back, trembling. "Yeah..." He released the adult's arm and held his breath a moment, seeming to force himself to calm down. "It's cool. I'm good. C-c'mon."

"A-are you sure?"

"Yeah..."

Likewise shaking all over, Gary reached out again, this time with agonizing slowness. His paw came to rest on the kit's bony pelvis. Both he and Nick flinched when it did, but neither of them could find any words. Both pretended it never happened, and Nick eventually laid his head back on his pillow, more or less accepting the touch.

Gary forced it all out of his head, or tried to. He let his paw lightly run along the boy's thigh. When he brought it across the kit's quivering, tight stomach, he almost fainted. The fur was warm, and the flesh beneath it warmer. It seemed Nick had taken his advice earlier, as his spotted, tawny pelt was unusually soft, and the scent of peach was detectable.

Perhaps he had done so on purpose? Was this planned? Why?

It was incredible. Gary's head started to spin dizzily. This was different from the shower - different from anything he'd ever done before. With anyone. The bizarre feeling his stomach, best described as a radiant, warm glow, wasn't something he was entirely unfamiliar with, but now it had reached a level of intensity he had never experienced before. It had spread to his extremities. Clouded his senses. Excited him.

Intoxicated him.

Nick covered his eyes with a forearm, relaxing slightly more. He lay on the couch, allowing Gary to touch him. He seemed alright with Gary's paws lingering on his legs and hips especially, so Gary focused on those wonderful areas, and the soft fur and flesh of the boy's skinny lower belly.

Denial was pointless now. Gary found the slender young male very attractive; touching him was thrilling his entire body and mind like nothing else ever had. Maybe worse, he knew he could put a name to the wonderful sensation he had gotten whenever Nick smiled, laughed... or even worked up the courage to simply talk to him, to be friendly.

It was love. Adoration. Something beyond mere carnal interest... for some reason, when Nick was happy, Gary was too.

"Nick..." Gary breathed, pausing to run his eyes over the boy's form. "You're fuckin' hot. At least to me. Alright?"

The kit inhaled shakily. Then he actually gave an awkward laugh - the last thing Gary expected in this situation.

But then Gary's paw touched flesh. Flesh uncovered, unconcealed by fur, and his lungs took a short break.

In disbelief, he looked down. His palm had come to rest on the kit's penis.

Now it was too late to go back - and did he... did they really want to? Gary slowly fondled the soft object, a powerful curiosity overwhelming him. He'd touched his own, and those of other males, but he hadn't touched a youngster's since he was himself one. It was rather different... Smoother. Smaller, obviously. Gary found it rather pleasant to see, to touch. Nick raised his hips almost imperceptibly, apparently without thinking.

Oddly rapt, Gary listened to the sounds of the boy's breathing as he started to knead and caress the last thing he thought he'd ever touch. The object of his broken vows. Nick did not complain.

In fact, he did the opposite, wordlessly. As Gary touched the sensitive little organ, he could feel it pulse. Stiffening more each time his fingers glided over it. Even in this situation Nick was getting an erection. Stunned, Gary continued, watching it with avid interest, keeping his touch light and gentle.

It gained quite a bit of size very quickly, but Gary realized it was no longer than his ring finger; though a little thicker. The prepubescent organ, however small, certainly was not insensitive, twitching at every teasing brush of Gary's paws.

Nick swore under his breath, and Gary used his spare paw to caress the kit's long legs, gently squeezing and feeling the muscles there. He couldn't help but smile when Nick gave a sharp moan involuntarily.

When the impulse became too much to ignore, Gary shifted position and gently took the boy's hips in his paws. He lowered his muzzle and inspected things more closely.

But Nick squirmed. Immediately Gary pulled away, only to see Nick stick one of his skinny legs out to the side, placing it on the carpet. Leaving Gary between them. With that tacit encouragement, he took a hold of Nick's hips once more. Evidently Nick knew what he had planned, and wanted him to get on with it.

So he did. Lowering his nose to the boy's groin, he sniffed deeply. Nick twitched - likely finding it ticklish.

This new position had exposed something else. Nick's scrotum was now right in front of Gary's face.

With only the slightest hesitation, Gary let his tongue slip out and run right over the tight, down-covered sack. Then he did it again. And again, this time, a little further towards the stiff little pole near there. All of a sudden, Gary found himself licking the entire area, grooming it with a horrible lack of urgency. Savoring it.

"Shit!" Nick complained in a whisper. "Y-your tongue is fuckin' rough..."

Gary snickered. "Feel good though?"

"... Yeah... d-don't stop."

At last, Gary licked right up the bottom of the kit's penis to the very tip, holding it in place with a hooked finger. Nick inhaled sharply and moved his arm off his head, looking down at the grownup.

Gary smiled at him, shifting position so he was more in line with the couch and the way Nick laid on it. "Don't worry... I'm apparently pretty good at this."

Without further ado, Gary slipped his muzzle around the boy's member. Nick gave a hoarse gasp and immediately tried to arch his back. Pressing his tongue to the soft flesh, Gary lowered his head until he had engulfed the entire object - slowly, he pulled back up, controlling the slender hips, making sure his rough tongue grazed the underside of it all the way until the very tip.

When it did so, Nick cried out and shuddered. "Unnhh!!" he moaned plaintively. "Oh-! Shit!"

That was all the reassurance Gary needed at that moment. He descended on the preteen organ once again. Eagerly, he extemporized, gently tugging down the foreskin, swirling and flicking his tongue about the pinkish head; massaging, pumping with his muzzle and sometimes with the help of a paw. He happily used everything in his arsenal of imagination. A minute passed - though it seemed like hours, with Gary swimming in incredulous elation.

Finally, he sped up. As he did, he heard the boy struggle to keep his hoarse breathing steady.

When Nick jolted, again attempting to arch upwards and placing a paw reflexively on Gary's head, Gary knew it was time. He continued, and Nick yelped, stiffening all over. The kit's stomach tightened, and his expression became a grimace.

At last, Nick cried aloud and a leg kicked involuntarily. His entire body shook.

To Gary's surprise, a taste invaded his muzzle. It was slightly salty, yet not entirely un-sweet.

It seemed Nick wasn't 'dry.' Barely.

However, Gary continued, almost lovingly, coaxing every drop of bearable feeling out of Nick and continuing even beyond that. At last the kit collapsed to the couch and desperately tried to push Gary off. "S-stop! Fuck!!"

Gary obeyed, withdrawing. He looked at the kit, who had splayed out on the couch, still unable to believe he had done what he had.

After a second, Nick drew his legs in and put a paw protectively to his groin. Openmouthed, he stared with amazement at Gary. Amazement, but not fear.

"Good?" asked Gary detachedly, shuffling up the couch slightly.

Nick nodded dazedly, idly rubbing his touchy penis. "Real good..." he admitted. Still rocked by the climax, Nick started to smile.

A sudden burst of affection hit Gary full-force. Without thinking, he reached out to touch the boy's lean shoulder.

But Nick gasped and shot up the couch, pressing into the backrest. He stared at the paw.

Gary froze on the spot. It made no sense. Even after that... Nick was still terrified of letting Gary touch him. How could that-?

Moments ago, that handsome young face had been wrought with ecstasy; but in the space of an instant, it was a confused, wary terror that resided now on Nick's features.

The look in the boy's eyes hinted he wasn't even seeing what was in front of him, but something else. Gary sadly began to understand. He had reached out for what seemed to be Nick's face. His truly personal space. The child probably thought he was going to strike him. A knot twisted his stomach - it was disgusting.

Before Gary could lower his paw, Nick brought his up. The kit's expression softened into something resembling curious concentration; he extended his small fingers, even as his arm shook. Reaching for...

Gary could only watch in astonishment.

A set of smaller fingertips touched his.

He stopped breathing.

Together, the adult and child stared at their outreaching hands as they moved, apparently all on their own. A truly incomprehensible wonder occurring right before their eyes.

The smaller fingers slipped between the larger, and Nick grasped the grownup's paw firmly.

When Gary looked at him, Nick looked back.

"I won't hurt you," promised Gary again.

Nick swallowed, squeezing his paw. He held it steady, not allowing it closer or allowing it to withdraw, as he had done earlier. "I know." They fell silent for a moment. Then Nick touched the couch just in front of his stomach. "S-sit here."

Nodding, Gary stood. Nick never relinquished his grip as he sat down on the small section of the couch the kit had indicated. He sat down and twisted around so he could face the nude boy, still letting him hold that paw.

"What's up?" he enquired, raising an eyebrow.

Nick didn't reply, instead suddenly curling up behind him. He grasped the adult's pants with his spare paw, screwing his eyes shut tightly.

"Nick?"

But the kid was silent. Grabbing at him almost violently now, twisting the fabric of his pants. Eventually, Nick gave a weak sob.

"Why?" he asked, his voice breaking. "Why are you doing this?!"

Once more, Gary felt his heart stop in his chest. "Wh-what? B-because you asked me to!"

"No!" Nick pulled in even closer. With a start, Gary realized the boy was essentially clinging to him. "Why the fuck did you want me? If you don't want me for this, why? What do you want from me?!"

"Nick... I don't want anything from you."

"No!" Nick coughed. "No! Nobody wants to-! They always wanna fuck me over! Why?!"

Gary smiled tolerantly. "Nick... not everyone is bad or selfish. You're not. I'm not."

The boy pulled on Gary's pants - Gary was surprised when he didn't hear a ripping sound. "Yes I am!" he insisted. "I'm a piece of shit. Nobody wants me, and nobody likes me. Everyone screws me."

"Well, I'm not going to." This time, Gary used his other paw. He lightly drew it down Nick's nude shoulder and back. The kit shivered slightly, but seemed to accept the touch. "I won't screw you over."

By now, Nick was digging his knees into Gary's back. "No!" he snapped. "You don't want me either. I'm not good at anything. All I can do is steal shit and I'm not even good at that. I'm just some fuckin' useless scrub." He paused. "That's what they make us say. At the center. 'I'm a d-delinquent, and I need help.' It's true, isn't it?"

Gary sighed. "Don't think like that, Nick... You're not a delinquent, don't call yourself that." This was unbelievable. "Don't be what they want you to be."

"Why did you want me?! Why me?!"

The grownup closed his eyes. "Because I wanted to help you; and I like you."

"...Really?" Nick actually kneed him in the back then, seemingly by accident. "Bullshit!"

"Alright, Nick..." Gary shifted slightly, trying not to react to the sharp pain in his back. "Shit, I dunno..."

"W-what?" Nick demanded sourly.

"Nick... I understand. I really do." Gary shifted slightly so he could better address the kit behind him. "Maybe I haven't had your experiences. I haven't gone through what you have, and I get that - like I said, I look up to you. I didn't know you until you came here, but I know you at least a little now and I know you're a great person, considering everything others have thrown at you. I understand why you don't want others making you do what they want, and you have every right to hate that."

The kit sniffed. "I just wanna be left alone..."

"I know. But look, I know some furs say they want to help you, but they really just don't know you, do they? Just tell you what to do, even when they've never met you."

"They're just assholes. I hate them."

"Yeah, Nick. They don't really care about you - they're loyal to the system. Probably don't really understand anything outside their offices." Gary shrugged. "But you need to understand why furs like me and Czejak do care. We really do." No response, so Gary pressed on. "I don't want to tell you what to do. I'm only here for an experiment. But I do care, Nick. And here's why: because if things stay as they are, you're gonna stay in Wilder Springs for another six years."

Nick tensed visibly, squeezing Gary's bigger paw in his.

"It gets worse, Nick. When you get out of there, you'll have nobody. No job, no home, nothing. Either you're living on the streets for the rest of your life, or you're breaking the law and you'll be put in jail. You'll never be free, never be your own person.

"It's bullshit, I know. I think you should be able to make your own choices - but listen." Again, Gary paused. This time for effect. "I don't want to make you do what you don't want to do. You don't deserve that, and you're not stupid. But I think you need help to change what you do want; like, a reason to do the right thing. That's very different. I'm here to help, and I'm here to give advice - and I'm just gonna sit here and hope to fuck you listen, because I do give a shit about you. I dunno why, don't ask me why, but I really do."

Nick sniffled and lay still, just processing what he was hearing. "... It's not up to me..."

"How do you mean?"

The kit shook his head. "I didn't wanna be taken from dad... I didn't wanna be put in those houses, with all those different assholes." He swore suddenly. "They never fucking asked me if I was cool with going to that fucking place!" He kicked downwards at the couch's armrest again, though his paw fell short this time. "Now I'm fucking here!!"

Gary blinked. "What's wrong with here?"

"I-I... what? Where the fuck is here?!" Nick's voice grew shrill. "They put a thing on my leg and took me here! Nobody told me where it is. I don't know where I am! It's the same as the center; it's the middle of nowhere an' they don't tell you where you are so you can't run! How the fuck is it my choice?! It never is! I can't ever do anything; they just make me do what they want!! You don't understand! Fuck off!"

"No, I know... you're right. That's all I can say. You're right." Gary twisted around and reached down, pulling the blankets over Nick's nude form again. "Those are the assholes I was talking about. But you need a home, Nick. I mean, there are certain things you'll never be free from - you're gonna need a job, and you'll have to work every day of the week. You need to learn to read; you'll have to pay taxes and you've got to obey the law. You can't get drunk and stoned every day. Maybe you won't be totally, truly free, but at least that way you can make your own choices. You won't be able to choose just anything - but that's the point of having choice. You've got to deal with the consequences. That's what freedom is - it's the best you'll get."

Suddenly, Nick gave a despairing moan.

"It's not that bad, Nick. I live that way after all."

Gary observed the boy beneath him, who was still clutching his waistband and paw tightly. It was clear that Nick had been listening to his slightly sanctimonious preaching. Gary had to ask just how many times Czejak had said these things to him. Perhaps Nick hadn't listened; or perhaps he had, and it wasn't that easy. Nick couldn't just change his world-view, his ingrained emotions and beliefs, on a dime like that. No one could, especially not after enduring the life Nick had.

At some point, his survival and happiness probably depended to some degree, on the very habits and behaviors everyone expected him to just drop. On the beliefs they wanted to force him to renounce and accept the opposite.

It could never be that easy. For every speech he or Czejak or anyone else had for Nick, he had an outburst like the last one ready for them. But Gary hadn't lied: Nick was right to feel the way he did. After everything he'd suffered, Nick should desire freedom, independence and a little respect.

The problem wasn't whether he was right or wrong. It was that Nick needed to accept he had to give in, to compromise, to back down just a little, if he ever was going to have a life. Life wasn't fair, and what the uncaring bureaucracy had done to him was awful and wrong, but it didn't have to be as bad as the boy thought.

With everything he had gone through, was there any way to truly explain that to him?

All of a sudden, he got it. A flash of understanding lit up Gary's mind like a lightning strike.

Nick knew all of this. Maybe he had trouble accepting it, and what it meant for his life, but he knew it all.

Except, now Nick was chained in a stranger's home; before that, he had been locked away in a detention center where they tried to bend him to their domineering will; tossed from one family to another that treated him like a mere object to rent.

Nick knew what choices he should make.

What he really wanted, though, was to make those choices for himself. That's why he fought - that's why he was torn and lost. Because the choices they made for him only threw him farther into a sea of confusion. Because they were forcing him. Punishing him for his resistance and for the remnants of his shattered pride. Giving him none of the respect he deserved.

A slave of their status quo, with nobody on his side to give him the validation he needed.

Except for one coyote and an irresponsible dumb-ass who let him drink bourbon in exchange for his company.

"Wow..." Gary rubbed his eyes through his lids. "What a fucking mess."

"What?"

The adult sighed. "Nothing. This is just so fucked up."

Nick sniffed loudly, finally letting go of Gary's paw and pants. He scooted away slightly, pressing into the couch's backrest. Gary smiled at him.

"Alright..." Gary murmured. "Are you hungry? I can go put something on for you."

After several moments, Nick shook his head.

"Okay. Let me know if you change your mind. You feel tired still?"

A grunt in the affirmative. "Always get tired after being sucked off."

Gary had to laugh. "I told you I was good at it."

"Yeah." Nick hesitated, not looking up at the adult. "I-I'm good too. I can suck yours if you like."

"No," Gary replied firmly. "Not yet."

The kit fell silent a moment. "...Why?" His voice was neutral.

"Because it's one thing for me to do it for you. Another if I'm getting you to do it for me." Gary swallowed. "I just... want to wait."

"... A'ight." Nick pulled the blanket tighter to his body.

"You should sleep if you can."

Nick shook his head.

"Don't think you can manage it?" Gary asked gently. "Did you have trouble sleeping at the detention center too?"

"Yeah." Nick yawned briefly, clamping his jaw shut as soon as he could.

The grownup twisted around a little - it was somewhat amazing to him that the boy didn't mind him looming above the way he was. Something had changed. Something big. "When did you start having trouble sleeping? On the streets?"

The kit thought about it for almost a minute. "N-no, before then," he admitted at last.

"Before then?" mused Gary. "Oh, right. The asshole. It was him, I guess." Nick gave a strange exhalation that was not quite a gasp. "Oh, shit. I'm sorry, Nick. Never mind."

However, Nick simply curled up a little. "It's cool..."

"Is there anything I can do to help you sleep?" Gary kept his tone gentle. "Anything at all? I'm worried, Nick. This will happen again if you don't sleep a lot more than you have been."

For a second, it seemed like he had irritated the kit with that question; but Nick's expression softened. "Nah, man."

"Do you want me to piss off?" chortled Gary, grinning.

But Nick shook his head.

"Still wanna talk?"

After a pause, Nick took a deep breath and scooted a little closer to the backrest, almost pressing his body lengthwise into the soft material.

Gary lowered his voice. "Do you want to tell me why you can't sleep?"

With another bitter snort, Nick rolled onto his back and stared blankly at Gary's torso. "You sound like the doc," he murmured.

"Sorry."

Nick scratched his ear, expressionless. "Forget it."

"Alright." Gary paused, his heart flip-flopping in his chest as he decided to ask yet another question he'd usually have considered idiotic. "Uh, N-Nick? Want me to lie next to you? Keep you company for a bit?"

As expected, Nick did his freezing thing. But after a moment, he gave a curt nod and turned into the backrest again. Offering his back to Gary.

Gary jolted as though a thousand volts had suddenly, briefly, coursed through his spine. For some reason, the idea of lying beside the kit was almost as shocking as Nick's earlier, scandalous suggestion.

But Nick gave him no words, so Gary simply gulped and shifted on the couch's edge... before stretching out on his side by the slender, smaller form of his charge.

However much he wanted to, he did not cuddle up to the silent kit.

As they just lay there together, Gary could feel the anxiety, the wariness just emanating somehow from Nick. But he could also feel it ebbing away; the tension in Nick's shoulders visibly lessening over time.

Gary gave a quiet chuckle. "I'm gonna fall asleep like this if I'm not careful," he joked.

Nick shifted slightly. "M-me an' Chase did this..." he muttered quietly, sounding almost shy.

"Hm? Did that help you to sleep?" When the kit nodded slightly, Gary chuckled again. "I suppose you guys cuddled, right?"

"... Whatever, man."

"Makes sense." Tired himself, Gary laid his head on the armrest. "Whatever, huh?"

"Yeah..."

Unable to keep a yawn at bay, Gary made himself comfortable beside the boy. "Y'know... how about we ask Czejak? See if he can help you with this sleeping thing. He'll be a shitload more useful than I would be."

For a moment, Nick seemed to wilt, his ears folding back.

"Y-you don't get it," he suddenly whispered. "It's not just that."

"Huh?"

"My brain doesn't shut up! Even when I'm tired and trying to sleep..." The kit swore weakly, his voice breaking. "It always does that shit! I c-can never shut it up." He paused. "A-and when I'm about to go to sleep, it just goes 'no way, bitch!' and wakes me up."

Gary blinked, at a loss for a moment. "W-what does it do?"

"I don't know!" Nick sniffed, clutching the fabric of the backrest in a tight fist. "It just never lets me sleep. It takes ages to shut up, then I just wake up for no reason! Fuck, I hate it! I hate my fuckin' brain! I hate it all... I just fuckin' hate it. You don't get it..."

"Nick, it's okay..." Gary scooted a little closer involuntarily. "I know it doesn't seem like it, but this is stuff we can fix. It's all stuff we can change."

"Wh-what? How?!"

"It's true, Nick." Gary scarcely managed to stop himself touching the kit's shoulder. "It won't be easy. This sort of thing never is; but it can be fixed. This is the sort of thing Czejak is there for. He'll help you... but you gotta tell him. He's a psychologist, not a mind-reader." He sighed. "I know there's a lot you haven't told him."

The kit said nothing, and Gary just listened to his soft, gentle breathing as he seemed to process what his guardian had told him.

At last, he moved back. Moving closer to Gary.

"G-Gary..." he breathed, his voice as tenuous as morning mist.

"Hmm?"

"I-I want... I don't want to go back."

"I know. I don't want you to go back there either."

"Hey. S-stay for a minute, yeah?"

"Don't worry, Nick." Gary smiled in spite of himself. "I'm goin' nowhere." Unable to help himself any longer, he leaned closer and gently touched the back of the kit's neck with his nose affectionately. There was no objection. "Let's both try to sleep, huh?"

"... Whatever..."

A knock on the office door snapped him back to reality, and Czejak looked up from his work.

"Come in?" he said, not really sure who it was that had knocked. Thankfully, it was only Karen. The fresh-faced rabbit lady opened the door, holding an oversized paper cup in her paws. The coyote blinked. "Oh! But wasn't it my turn?"

Karen smiled. "Given you've been here all night," she said, "I don't think it matters."

Czejak blushed under his fur. "How did you know?"

"Not sure." Karen placed the cup on her boss's desk. "What's got you doing this insanity? Not the cheetah again, I hope."

"No..." Taking the hot cup in his paws, Czejak noticed just how cold he had gotten. His fingers were practically numb. "But a friend of his."

"Want to talk about it?"

"... Why not?" Czejak sat back and rubbed at his eyes. "Though she wasn't one of ours, she was a friend of Nick. She died."

Karen frowned. "How?!"

"She was left in her room without access to her asthma medication, and she died of an attack; the staff claimed she was trying to manipulate them, so didn't come to her aid." Czejak peered at the paper in front of him.

"They killed her?" Karen's expression became horrified.

The psychologist mumbled, "Just one of seven last year, don't you know." He gladly drank the caramel flavored latte. "Mm. Anyway. There is something wrong here, and I'm not placing it. Her asthma wasn't considered a great danger, and yet this was an acute attack."

"Sometimes that can happen." Karen shook her head.

"Yes, but what if something made this happen?" Czejak wrinkled his nose. "They used pepper-spray, but something doesn't seem right here. Her asthma had become more active in her last few weeks, to the point the staff actually bothered to take note."

"Pepper-spray could do that." Karen shrugged. "I guess."

Nodding slowly, Czejak nonetheless didn't appear convinced. "Yes. That was what everyone thought. But her medical records from Wilder Springs are... splotchy. Things that shouldn't be missing are missing. A lot of the ones we've managed to pull are like that; but Evelyn is the only one to die."

"What's missing?"

The coyote frowned. "I don't know. I just know something is missing - or I'm missing something." He laid a finger on something on the page. "That... Doctor Thornton. Wilder Springs' resident psychiatrist. Something is very wrong here. I have to go through the other records. Look for a clue."

"Is there anything in particular you're looking out for?"

Czejak nodded, his face taking a grim expression. "Yes," he said. "I'm looking for a name. See, my last talk with Nick actually reminded me of an avenue I had missed."

"Whose name?" The lapin cocked an ear, curious.

"I'm afraid, Karen, it's not a person's name that I'm looking for."

Karen sighed. "You need to stop being so mysterious."

However, the coyote merely smirked at her.

When his eyes cracked open once again, at first he wasn't sure where he was. He almost fell off the recliner.

Sitting up, Nick took in his surroundings, trying to make sense of them - as before, he was in Gary's living room. A soft, warm light gilded the curtains pulled in front of the windows, and the sound of gentle rain seemed to be all around. Confused, the cheetah boy lethargically pushed the blankets off his body and stood.

His knees buckled briefly, and he groaned while his head started to clear.

After a moment, he realized he was naked.

"Shit..." he mumbled, looking about for his clothes.

As he did, memories of the previous night returned. With a start, he looked again at the windows.

Daylight. Early daylight, it seemed. It had been evening when he drifted off. An entire night had passed.

Nick stared at the curtains for a few moments, processing that. Then he lifted his underwear from the nearby couch, hopping as he put the briefs on. It took him longer to find the ¾ khakis - they had been pressed between the cushions.

Last night had... gone differently than he imagined. Collapsing and finding himself swaddled in blankets on the couch was certainly not what he expected, but it worked out alright. Very alright.

Nothing had gone as expected; which he kinda expected.

It was nice to have things turn out alright. To not fuck up now and then. He hadn't even planned on trying that wild idea out the same day he thought it up, but it worked nonetheless.

A half-smile crept onto the kit's face as he pulled his pants back on. Strangely, he felt great. It wasn't just last night; he had an unusual amount of energy considering he'd just woken up, and as his mind shook away the cobwebs it only got better.

Though he was alright with numbers, Nick wasn't too good with time. All he knew was he had slept for a long time, like the first night when he had fallen asleep on the bed. Gary had probably gotten up hours ago, assuming he even fell asleep next to Nick.

A strange feeling made the kit tingle all over just thinking about that. But not in a bad way.

At first, he wasn't sure if he wanted to and it wasn't easy; but it was his choice to make. However, Gary was... Gary helped. Was just there for him.

In a way, he was proud of what he'd accomplished.

That he managed to keep himself under control and see his plan through so well. As expected, it was hard to do that; his stupid mind had sought to sabotage the night, subjecting Nick to memories and thoughts of times he longed to forget.

It was weird how Gary helped, and how it all became so much easier as Nick got used to the guy touching him.

Like, of course he was going to touch him. That was the plan. But Nick knew it wouldn't be easy right from the start.

Things changed quickly though. The grownup was--Nick didn't even have words for it. All he knew was that he didn't want to end what he had reluctantly started. When Gary was close like that, it scared him... but somehow he knew Gary wasn't going to hurt him. He could feel it; and it felt nice. Warm. As in, he felt warm, in a way that didn't really have anything to do with heat.

It was too hard to explain, he didn't even get it himself.

Nick staggered towards the stairs, trying to push the matter from his mind. Last night had gone well, and wasn't anywhere near as bad as he expected. That's all he needed to think about.

In moments, he was in the bathroom, washing his face and drinking from the faucet. When he was done rubbing his eyes vigorously, he looked up at the mirror.

What he saw was surprising. His eyes were wide open, with no redness of which to speak. Actually, he looked alright. Last night, soaking in the bath with the shower running had washed away much of the dirt in his fur, the rest obliterated when he finally decided to use the stuff Gary had pointed out to him - perhaps used a little too much, actually.

At any rate, he had never seen himself so... well, bright. Brightly colored. He twisted slightly, running a paw across the surprisingly white fluff on his flat stomach and touching his flank, where his tawny fur was marked by easily distinguished spots. The black tears beneath his eyes also were clearer, unblemished by months-old dirt and grime... Curious, he leaned closer to the mirror and parted the fur there; the bruise was still there, but scarcely visible at all, let alone at a glance. It didn't hurt to touch anymore either.

Come to think of it, it was funny Gary saw it even when he did. Nick's fur was short, but still quite thick. It must've been really bad.

Though nothing else had changed. It was neat to see himself looking less like he had been dragged through the dirt, but he was still woefully small. It annoyed him to see other boys not much older but almost twice his overall size.

Nick ran his paws through his fur, surprised. It did make a big difference to use those things, he supposed.

He decided to look around for Gary. To test the waters a little. It didn't take long. Right as he exited the bathroom, he knew the nearby office wasn't empty.

The door was ajar again, so Nick pushed it open.

This time, he saw the adult slumped in his chair at the computer desk. A pen was resting on a small booklet, but Gary himself was motionless. Lost in thought.

Curiously, Nick observed him for a moment. It felt very strange, being around Gary after last night. Not in a bad way, though...

"Hey," the kit murmured, stepping closer.

Gary barely looked up. "Oh. Morning, Nick. Sleep well?"

Nick grunted in the affirmative. "What's up?"

"Hrm. Nothing really, just doing something for Czejak." The adult flipped back a few dozen pages, scanning them quickly. He sighed pensively. "Only nineteen days."

"What?" asked Nick, idly looking at the pages himself - Gary's handwriting made absolutely no sense to him. Sometimes he could pick out basic words, or at least letters, but the grownup's spidery penmanship was indecipherable.

Gary shut the booklet and sat up straight. "Never mind. I'm just thinking." He scratched at one of his tears. "Uh, listen. I'm gonna be busy today. Uh, work shit."

Mildly disappointed, the shirtless kit just shrugged dismissively. "A'ight."

"Yeah. I'm gonna make that curry tonight. So I'll be down there later. Unless you want breakfast or something?"

"Cool, whatever." Nick shuffled back to the door, rubbing his arm.

"Alright."

Nick paused at the doorway, casting just a quick look at the grownup as he turned back to the little book.

Something felt... wrong.

Suppressing the chill that suddenly knotted his stomach, Nick made sure to pick up his shirt from the bathroom where he'd left it yesterday, then made his way downstairs. Trying to think of something to do.

He hit the power button on the television before collapsing to the recliner and watching the screen come to life. It was the same channel as last time - the one with the jets and bombs and shit. He sighed.

Oddly, time seemed to stretch out, and Nick realized something very bizarre. He was bored; and he sort of wanted someone to talk to today. Not to sit on his tail in the corner brooding. He did that all the time, didn't feel like it now.

Didn't want to anymore.

Eventually he spaced out, the television's mumbling losing all coherence. His brain started to ramble at him again, and soon Nick was lost in thought.

However, the moment the show ended and the news came on again, Nick immediately snapped out of it, resolving to head to the basement to spend some time with the tennis balls again - he had no interest in sitting through that bullshit.

But that strange, almost magical inspiration never happened again and he quickly grew bored of the green, fuzzy balls. Putting them away, he decided to look through the toys some more. There were a great many more boxes to inspect, after all.

The very first box he took down, which weighed considerably less than the first, contained several toy guns. Rooting through them all, Nick found a plastic knife and some small metal jet-planes as well. He lifted the knife up and frowned - the plastic object was scarcely a fraction of the weight of a real one.

Dropping the knife, he lifted a toy pistol and stared at it.

Guns were cool, he guessed. Not when you had one pointed at you, of course. But what was he supposed to do with this thing? It wasn't real.

The kit sighed, looking the toy over. It couldn't shoot anything, so what was the point? What did people do with these things? The last time Nick had played with any toy, he was too young and stupid to speak properly. None of his toys had been guns or knives or anything.

However, Gary had said something about playing with toys until he was twice Nick's age; and Nick had found himself inanely bouncing a ball against a wall just for the hell of it only a few days ago. So perhaps he was missing something.

With a resigned sigh, he tried to aim down the plastic sights. Looked the hunk of black plastic over again.

Nothing. Nothing happened. He put it away and picked up another, hoping for some bizarre instinct to take over, or some insight of some kind to come to him.

Disappointed, he put the guns away and continued his search.

It wasn't until many hours later that Nick realized Gary had left him alone all day. Not said a word to him, nothing since he had said he would cook dinner - and nothing had come of that. After rooting through several more boxes of toys, hopelessly looking for something to entertain him, Nick decided to investigate.

Maybe he could hang out with Gary now.

When he headed upstairs again, it was dark outside. The study's door was closed, though light gilded the edges of the frame.

Gary had been in there for perhaps the entire day; whatever the fuck he was doing, it was definitely keeping him busy. Shit.

Curious, the kit snuck over and laid his head on the cold wood of the door. Nothing. Not a sound.

He very nearly walked away, but he hesitated. The notion of banging on the door, or calling out through it, came to him. But he hesitated at doing that too. For several seconds, he stayed right by the door, ear hovering scarcely a finger's width from its creamy, white surface.

Swallowing, he inched away.

Yes, he did want to spend time with the guy. But he was still not comfortable with going out of his way to ask for it. Just felt... weird. Like he shouldn't do it.

Now especially, he didn't want to upset Gary.

It made him worry, though. Gary had never been this quiet for an entire day since Nick had arrived.

Trying to ignore the uneasiness that settled tangibly somewhere in his stomach, Nick turned and quietly slipped into his bathroom again. Absently, he pushed his pants down and sat on the toilet seat... even though he didn't need to go at all.

He simply sat there, elbows resting on his knees as he tried to not-think. Not-thinking was as difficult a task as always.

After a minute, he heard a gentle sound and immediately got to his feet again. Pulling his pants up, he flushed the toilet unnecessarily and headed for the door again.

As expected, Gary exited his room at roughly the moment Nick opened the bathroom door and wandered back into the upstairs corridor with him. The grownup acknowledged him wearily, and Nick gave a half-smile before breaking eye-contact.

"Hey," he murmured softly.

Gary stopped. "Hey." There was a hiatus. "What's up?" Gary added.

"Nothin'." Nick scratched at his neck. "Hey, wanna watch TV or something?"

The adult glanced back at his study. Nick looked past him, curious. The computer screen was blank, but the small book still sat on the desk. Nick figured it had to be related to Gary's work.

"Uh, yeah, you know what?" Gary nodded. "I think I'm done with, uh, work for now. Got anything you want to watch?"

"Nah, man, just bored." Nick managed to give an amused snort.

"Alright. Let's see what's on the box."

Though he led the way downstairs, with Nick following a half-dozen feet behind him, Gary seemed tired. Or lost in thought. Nick keenly felt the strange remoteness that seemed to almost emanate from the older cheetah.

Though it seemed to lessen when they actually reached the den downstairs. "Ugh, alright!" declared Gary, snatching up his remote. "I need a coffee. Want anything to eat or drink or whatever?"

Nick couldn't hold back a smile, pleased that Gary seemed to be brightening a little; it combated his nervousness. Meant that whatever had been wrong wasn't a big deal. "I dunno. Got any more of those cocktails?"

"I knew you'd ask for that." Gary chortled.

"Hell yeah." Nick shrugged.

"I don't have much of the ingredients left... I guess I can give you a beer though?"

Nick nodded. "Sure. It doesn't matter, whatever." It took several moments for him to realize what that sounded like. "Uh, like, I don't just want to drink or nothin'."

Gary's glanced at him, an unreadable expression on his features. After a second, he nodded. "I know, it's cool. Hold on, I'll grab a beer and get a coffee or something." He tossed the remote to the couch. "See if anything interesting is on."

Sitting down by the couch's armrest, Nick brought one knee up and snatched the remote. He flipped through the channels, seeing nothing much of interest, but that wasn't really what he wanted at the moment.

Sometimes it was hard to tell when he had a real reason to be worried and when it was just his brain being fucking annoying. The booze would help a bit, but so would just... being able to see and talk to Gary. Properly figure out where they stood after what they did the night before.

Seeing Gary still comfortable around him was such a relief.

When the adult returned, Nick couldn't help but smile at him. Especially as he was then handed a cold bottle of beer.

"Here," Gary dropped a small metal object next to Nick and sat on the recliner off to the side. "Figured you'd want to open it yourself."

Nick nodded and pressed the bottle opener to the lid. "Cool." Although Nick pried the brassy-colored lid off slowly, the beer nonetheless gave a sharp hiss and immediately bubbled over. "Shit!"

Despite quickly getting the bottle to his muzzle, the pungent beverage already had wet Nick's hooded t-shirt. The kit gave another muffled curse around the neck of the bottle. Snickering, he lowered it.

"You alright?" Gary asked, sipping his coffee. "Get it on your shirt?"

"Yeah." Nick shrugged.

Gary smiled wanly. "Don't worry, beer washes out."

Returning the smile, Nick put the bottle between his legs and promptly pulled the shirt over his head, tossing it down the length of the couch. Shirtless once more on the couch, Nick lifted the bottle to his muzzle again.

Though his expression again became unreadable, Gary didn't look away. He observed the bare-chested boy openly. Thankfully, the confusing stare only lasted a few seconds.

Gary took a long sip of coffee. "God I needed this."

"Is that coffee?" Nick asked, taking an equally long gulp of beer. When Gary responded with a mere positive grunt, Nick shrugged. "Czejak's always drinking that."

"I noticed." Gary grunted. "Probably an addict."

"What is it?" The kit scrunched up his features. "It stinks real strong."

"What, don't you like the smell?" Chortling, Gary drank some more. "Many folks love it."

"I guess it's okay. Just weird."

Gary nodded. "Kind of an acquired taste - you get used to it. It helps wake you up, get your heart-rate going, stops you feeling shitty in the morning when you first get up. So for guys like Czejak and I who get up too damn early, it's good."

"Huh." Nick frowned speculatively.

Immediately, Gary laughed. "Yeah, I know what you're thinking, but it last for a long time. It can actually keep you awake when you're trying to sleep, hours after you drank it. I'll give you some if you want, but it might screw your sleep up even more if you're not used to it."

"Whatever, man." Nick shrugged, drinking from his bottle again. "I got my beer, I'm good!" He smirked.

The grownup scratched at his ear, looking pensively at the coffee. "I've heard you're not meant to give it to 'kids' because it stunts their growth." He snorted. "Sounds like more bullshit to me, now I think about it. Yeah, you know what, I'll give you some in the morning if you like."

"Cool." Nick sat back, once more taking a mouthful of beer. It wasn't the same beer he had that night he puked - something that still surprised him. Like those beers, though, they actually tasted better than what he was used to, with a strangely complex flavor. He peered at the label. "This stuff is good."

"Yeah. It's craft beer from a local brewery. Expensive stuff, but if you're gonna drink beer, get the good stuff." Gary finished his coffee then seemed to hesitate before speaking, nursing the empty cup. "I've put another one in the freezer for you, for when you wanna get it."

Nick blinked. "A'ight."

There was another hiatus, and Nick felt mildly uneasy. Gary was definitely not being his usual self tonight - at least not consistently.

Thankfully, Gary looked over at him curiously and put an end to the silence. "So, like, how did you start off drinking?" he asked. "How did your friends get you started?"

The kit frowned and thought about it. "I don't remember. It was, like, um, wine-coolers and stuff like that. They started bringing me, like, cans with stuff already in it, like rum and soda."

Gary nodded knowingly. "Yeah, alright. Guess they brought you bourbon and cola premixes and you liked the taste?"

"Yeah."

The adult shifted and scratched at his arm. "I started out with vodka and cola. Got smashed one night with my friends; we were about fifteen." He shook his head. "Man... we had no idea what we were doing. Got ourselves so sick we couldn't move the next day."

"Yeah... the others used to drink a lot." Nick smiled wanly. "Chris would be all over me an' Chase though. Told us to slow down. Everyone looked after someone if they got sick."

Gary nodded once more, smirking. "Yeah, guess it wouldn't take much to get a ten-year-old tanked to high-hell. Must've been a pain."

After a second, Nick gave a brief chortle. "Nah man," he said. "It was cool. Saves money, you know?" He grinned and finished off his beer.

"Yeah, I feel sorry for guys who can 'hold their liquor'." Gary laughed as well, and again Nick felt a little relieved.

With more enthusiasm than warranted, he hopped up to his foot-paws and started to walk to the kitchen. "Gonna get the other beer."

"Alright."

Pulling the freezer door open, Nick had to stand on his tip-toes to locate the beer set at the back of the huge, stainless steel monstrosity. As he withdrew the bottle, a plastic-wrapped chunk of meat fell from the freezer's edge.

Thinking quickly, Nick caught it by raising a knee and pinning it against the fridge's door with a dull clonk. "How about no?" he taunted the packaged steak, feeling weirdly pleased with himself, replacing it and shutting the door.

Gary was watching the television. A music video had come on, and the adult was tapping the edge of the recliner to the beat.

Grinning, Nick jumped the tiny staircase into the den and hopped up onto Gary's couch, before getting comfortable.

Gary smiled slightly at him, seemingly amused by his energy. After a second he grunted and pushed himself to his paws. "I think I'll get myself something. Need to get something to eat too. You want anything?"

Nick thought for a moment. Then he shook his head.

It looked like Gary was going to say something, but instead the grownup just wandered around the couch, looking distracted again. He passed close to the back of the couch, and Nick found himself instinctively drawing away.

Last night had taught him for sure that Gary wouldn't hurt him. He trusted the tall, surprisingly well-built grownup now, at least in that regard, but it didn't really matter - he'd been cuffed too many times on the back of the head to overcome his reflexes easily.

Neither of them commented on it though, and Gary ambled into the kitchen, Nick following him with curious eyes as he did.

... Maybe Gary was just tired? He looked it.

Forcing himself to put the matter out of his head once and for all, Nick returned his attention to the television.

The music video finished and another started up. Nick's ears pricked up almost immediately when he realized it was familiar. A leopard in over-sized urban clothes appeared and started to rap over heavy guitar chords.

Almost instinctively, he started to move his head to the beat.

It took well over a minute for his brain to recall the lyrics, but after the second verse, Nick started to rap along with the leopard, complete with paw gestures - still holding his beer.

"Yeah, but that's bullshit, coz we don't pack heat - now c'mon get your head cracked with a phat beat!" he grunted emphatically, flicking his free paw at the screen. "Yeah!" Out of the corner of his eyes he saw movement, and the cheetah kit paused to grin over at the adult.

Gary was smirking at him again, but his eyes looked a little wistful for some reason.

"What?" objected Nick, swigging from his beer.

The grownup made his way back to the lounge, raising a beer of his own. "Nothin', just didn't think you'd be into rap."

"Hell yeah, man." Nick chortled. "It kicks ass."

Gary sat on the recliner again, shrugging. "Yeah, I can see it. Nick the Bad-ass Gangsta-boy!" The smirk grew even bigger. "Terror o' the streets."

Likewise, Nick's grin almost split his face in two. "Fuck off, man!" he joked, nestling back into the couch with his beer.

A strange, almost foreign compulsion to jump to his paws and leap on the teasing adult nearly got him to put his beer down. The way he sometimes did with the guys at the house. He dismissed it as inappropriate at the moment.

A flush settled in the kit's cheeks, and a weird glowing feeling invaded his stomach. Raising his eyes, he looked at the adult directly.

The youthful-looking grownup just returned the gaze curiously.

"What's up?" he asked.

Embarrassed suddenly, Nick shook his head. "Nothin'."

Strange feelings boiled up from within him, and Nick squirmed slightly. The strangest of them all abruptly came when he realized he probably could act on all of them... and Gary wouldn't mind.

Would he?

A memory of last night suddenly came to the kit and he stared unfocusedly at the creamy carpet to the side of the couch.

Laying together on the very same couch last night, he and Gary. The blowjob was one thing, but he felt strangely safe with the grownup he'd known for just less than three weeks, holding him loosely from behind.

It was time to confess, like Czejak had said. His feelings for Gary were complicated, and he trusted the older cheetah like almost nobody else before. Sure, maybe not totally and utterly, but enough...

It was embarrassing to even admit to himself that he liked it when Gary held him like that. That he wanted to 'cuddle' again. The idea of asking for it directly, or even just walking over to the grownup and sitting near him of his own volition repelled him - he couldn't bring himself to do something that humiliating and pussy. He was eleven, not five.

There was another option though.

Nick bit his lip for a moment, before shifting on the couch awkwardly. "Hey, uh..."

"Yeah?" Gary took a rather protracted libation from his own beer.

"W-wanna, uh, do what we did last night?" Nick asked, nervously rubbing a slender arm. "I'll d-do it for you this time if you want."

Gary's face stiffened. Slowly.

A disturbing sensation, like that of icy water flowing through his veins to his tingling fingertips, chilled Nick all over.

After a few seconds, Gary's expression turned anxious and he swallowed audibly. "I-I can't, Nick." The kit didn't reply. After a few interminable minutes of silence, Gary stood. "I gotta go. I've gotta, uh, finish my work and get to bed. Night."

With that and not a word more, the adult hastily made his way around the couch and up the stairs in the foyer. Nick still couldn't bring himself to look up; he continued to stare at the blurry, off-white surface of the carpet beside him.

The office door upstairs quietly opened and closed, and Nick squeezed his eyes shut tightly.He whispered a bitter curse...

What the fuck did he do wrong this time?

Frowning, Nick carried on into his own room, clicking on the light. His stomach was tight with a mild hunger, but he didn't feel like eating anything yet.

Not caring to even think about it, Nick collapsed on the bed, crawling into the middle of the mattress.

Despite last night being pretty restful for him, Nick found himself tired already.

Soft sounds from beyond the door let him know that Gary had at last emerged from his study. A twinge of hope that he would come in to speak with Nick annoyed the kit briefly, but the adult just descended the stairs.

Had he come out of the study just because he'd heard Nick go into his room?

After a moment, Nick flopped back onto a pillow. "Fuck."

He closed his eyes and just tried to relax. As expected, that wasn't easy, but there was nothing for him to do now. All that was left was to kill time.

Kill time until he found out where he stood. Gary couldn't be pissed at him - why would he be?

Not exactly drifting off, Nick stared up at the ceiling light through partially closed eyes. His usual techniques for occupying himself in silence hadn't worked well since he'd got here.

He held his paws in front of him, squinting at their silhouettes through the glare of the light. Just watching the shadowy shapes of his fingers as he wiggled them, bored.

After a few minutes, he sighed and let his arms collapse onto his chest.

Fuck. Would've been nice to have that Gamestation thing still.

Then again, this was still better than being at the center.

With a mumbled curse, Nick turned onto his side and closed his eyes. A gentle drumming sound started up as rain started to once more patter against his window and the roof above. Great, he couldn't go outside now either.

Reaching across the bed, he pulled the other pillow to his chest tightly.

He closed his eyes, listening as the rain outside grew louder, and gentle, bass rumbles heralded the coming of another storm.

That was okay.

This was a storm he could listen to and enjoy. He could let the soft white noise of the rain be his lullaby, and the low growls of the thunder would not frighten him this night.

After all, it wasn't like he had to sleep out in the motherfucker tonight.

He was awake.

He knew he was awake - wide awake, even - before he had opened his eyes. With a curse, Nick sat up in his bed, head swaying dangerously atop his neck as he tried to regain his balance.

Though the room was still bathed in light from the bulb on the ceiling, a mere glance at the window told him it was still night.

Great. He had suddenly been wrenched awake, his heart beating fast and so oddly alert despite being only just awoken. As always.

That gave him pause.

It had never occurred to him before, just how similar he felt whenever he got those weird crazy attacks, whatever Czejak called them, and when he woke up like this...

He wasn't exactly... scared, but he had been torn from sleep, his pulse quickened and breathing sharp.

They were related. Somehow, he just knew they were.

... Why? What the fuck were they?

Growling another sour swear word, Nick tossed his pillow off the bed and to the carpet below. He pulled his knees in to his chest and rested his chin atop them pensively.

He recalled when Gary woke him on the couch the previous week. Why had he gone so crazy then? There was something... What was it?

The kit's mind went blank. It was as if a wall had sealed off a part of his memory, and touching it just filled him with a strange numb repulsion. Something within him repelled him, and, though he wasn't sure why, he accepted that.

After pushing the matter from his thoughts, he realized he could hear a voice. Someone talking. His ears pricked involuntarily, and he glanced at the closed door.

He could still hear the rain pattering against the rooftop, however it had quieted. Now, somebody was quietly murmuring several rooms away.

Instantly, Nick hopped to his feet. The cheetah kit knew that he had to hear whatever was being said - it was just too unusual for him to ignore. With a quick look at the clock by his oversized bed, he realized it was only ten at night; he had dozed off early and been awoken in only a few hours.

On silent paws, he quietly cracked the bedroom door open. Nothing more was necessary: the light in the hallway and the clarity of the previously muffled voice indicated it was Gary he could hear, and the grownup had left his office's door wide open.

Frowning, the kit tried to listen.

"I'm sorry," Gary was saying, his voice strangely unemotional. "I can't do this. I can't. I'm sorry."

What was this?

There was a moment of quiet, before Gary took a deep, audible breath. "I'm sorry, Andrei. I can't fucking do this. I'm not... I know. But I just took advantage. There's no way."

A chill started to nestle in Nick's chest. What the hell was Gary talking about?

"I can't look after- I can't do this, okay? No, no; I've already called them. They've arranged to come by tomorrow morning... I wasn't gonna give you the chance to talk me out of this." Gary took a deep, shuddering breath that Nick could hear easily from the bedroom door. "I j-just... I had to let you know. No, he doesn't know yet. I dunno how I'm gonna tell him - m-maybe I shouldn't."

Nick's legs buckled and that strange, burgeoning chill seemed to burst within him, leaving nothing more than a dull, cold nothing that drenched every fiber of his mind and body.

This couldn't be happening!

Meanwhile, Gary had started crying. "I do, Andrei! I fucking do! That's why I can't. I'm not... c-can I talk to you tomorrow? Please, don't fucking hate me for this. A-alright..."

There was a loud beep and Nick let out the breath he had been holding for twenty seconds at least.

"N-Nick?" the grownup called softly, his voice quavering. "You there?"

Tears already stood in Nick's eyes, and he almost shut his door with a curse... but he didn't. Instead, he sniffed and pushed the door open further, stalking out into the corridor on trembling legs.

The cheetah boy stood in the open doorway of the office, glaring at the adult who slumped in his leather office chair.

Neither could think of the words to say. At least not at first.

Then Gary wiped at an eye. "Did you think I wouldn't figure it out?" he asked.

"W-what?"

"You didn't do any of that shit because you wanted to." The grownup looked at him properly at last. Nick felt his breath catch and he looked away. "Just trying to stop me sending you back to the center."

Nick swallowed.

"I'm sorry..." Gary blinked owlishly. "I shouldn't have done it. You were just trying to stop me sending you away; you didn't really want to do it. I should've seen that."

"What the fuck...?" Nick scowled, though he didn't seem to be able to dredge up the energy to be angry for some reason. "I d-did... I don't give a shit! I'm okay with it!"

But Gary just shook his head. "That doesn't matter, even if it's really true. I shouldn't have fallen for it... I'm sorry, Nick. I wanted you to stay here for a few months or something, but-"

"I wanted to stay!" exclaimed Nick, his paws becoming fists. "I wanted to stay with you! I don't want to go!"

Gary's eyes watered visibly at that. "I can't have you here when I'm just gonna take advantage of you."

The kit staggered back. "You're lying." He found himself shaking all over. Quivering. "You just don't fucking want me. You don't care what I want! You don't care what I think! You're just like all the fucking others."

They both stared at the floor, silent for several moments.

"What do you expect from me...?"

Nick raised his eyes. "What?"

"What did you expect from me, Nick?" Gary shifted in his chair. "What the fuck do you want from me?"

"You're just like the others! Fuck you, asshole!" Nick realized he was hyperventilating.

However, Gary just seemed to wilt. "What did you expect from me, Nick?" he repeated weakly. "I can't handle this. Look at this. Look at you! You're not even listening to me. Why me? Did you even give any of your other parents a chance?"

Nick sniffed. "I gave you a fucking chance!" he almost shouted. "Look what happened! You're not listening to me!"

"I'm sorry..."

The kit struggled to keep his composure, but the emotions were suddenly so overwhelming. So numbing. "Why?!" he demanded, backing away.

"I can't look after a kid, Nick. I-I can't trust myself."

"I don't care! I don't care, it's not a big deal! You said that! You said that..."

"I do care, and it is when you're just offering it to me because you're afraid I might send you away..." Gary sniffed. "What kind of relationship would we get out of that arrangement? How fucked up is that?!"

Nick was just lost. There was so much wrong in Gary's words. He didn't feel like that - it wasn't just because of his fears, at least not anymore. He knew his feelings were more complicated than that - though he knew not how to explain them.

Anger and despair fought for control, and Nick couldn't think of anything to say.

A nauseating sourness invaded his stomach, somehow sapping his strength even further.

This wasn't fair.

He wanted to say something, anything, to change what was happening, but nothing came to him.

... Damn it...

Suddenly, his shoulders slumped and his head fell forwards like the strings that held them up had been neatly slashed. It was hopeless.

"Don't do this," he managed to force out. "I don't care. Let me stay. I-I'm s-sorry... whatever I did."

The adult shook his head. "It's not what you did..." he muttered. "It's what I did."

"No..." But it was pointless. Nick could tell - this had happened before. He turned his back on the adult and lethargically dragged himself back to his room. "Fuck you... Just go and die."

The boy settled into his customary corner by the window and fell against the wall, struggling with the bitterness him that burned his insides like acid.

The doors would be locked. The tracking bracelet still around his leg.

There was no escape.

He just felt dead inside.

The sun had been up for almost an hour when Nick heard the vehicle pull up in the driveway. It was a heavy vehicle, like a van or something, judging from the low growl of the engine. Nick couldn't be bothered getting up to look.

It didn't matter now.

He doubted it was the police or anything. It would be Wilder Springs' escorts or whatever they called themselves. The company that worked with the facility, delivering the youths who would be their unwilling guests.

At least they waited until morning. Nick had heard that they preferred to drop in on their 'deliveries' in the middle of the night - though a glance at the clock told him it wasn't yet six in the morning.

Time had passed with a spiteful haste.

His mind had been filled with meaningless noise for all the hours since he had fled from Gary. Nothing of any real substance; no meaning aside from faintly simmering resentment.

What a fuckin' idiot he had been.

What had expected from Gary? That had been a good question. It was just dumb to think the guy would've been any different.

Or that he, Nick, the same idiot that so many other parents had rejected - after giving him hope for a family... for a place he could fight to make his home - could change himself. Every time, it hurt less, but it left him a little angrier. Hardened his heart some more.

Absently, Nick plucked at the resilient plastic strap locked so tightly around his ankle...

Some stupid part of him - a part that he wanted to just punch and stab to death! - had told him he could make this odd placement work. That he could find a home with Gary, a guardian that actually tried to know him; that seemed to care about what he thought and felt.

What an asshole!

Yet Nick wasn't even sure who to blame. He knew he had fucked up - he had made a big mistake, trying to play Gary's interests like that. But did he deserve this? How could Gary do this to him?! It was just a mistake! It was an accident!

He was sorry...

But it was too late. This time, Gary wasn't gonna give him another chance... and he would never give Gary another chance. He'd never give anyone another chance. It hurt so much every time...

There was a knocking downstairs, and almost immediately he heard the heavy front door being unlocked and opened - like he thought, Gary had locked him in. The fucker.

His sensitive young ears managed to hear Gary's voice. The surprisingly youthful voice of that older cheetah carried easily through the walls and doors. Nick couldn't hear perfectly, but he understood the guy was telling his escorts that Nick knew they were coming.

The replying voice was deep and quiet; Nick couldn't hear the response.

Unable to help it, the boy gave a sharp cry, his eyes scrunching tightly shut. He squeezed his knees cruelly to his chest.

They were here. He was going to be taken back. Today.

Now.

They took their time, and it was a full minute before the door was brusquely pushed open and two burly adult males strode into the room. Nick forced his eyes open to see.

One was a jaguar, and the other was a heavily set wolf; both were garbed in dark, functional street clothes. Though their species weren't uncommon, their size and width spoke of a pair who had been blessed with powerful bodies, and had taken to their gifts with joyous abandon.

The jaguar eyed him with a neutral expression. "Good morning, Nick," he grumbled, identifying himself as the owner of the bass voice. "You know why we're here, don't you?"

The sheer size and disposition of the duo sucked the wind from Nick's sails easily. What little will to resist he had left, knowing it would be ultimately pointless, evaporated in the presence of these intimidating goliaths.

"Yeah..." the kit sighed, his voice trembling embarrassingly.

"You know the drill, don't you?" The jaguar stepped closer while his partner moved to the side of the door. "We're going to take you back to your program. You've got a choice to make: choose to come with us the easy way, or choose to make me handcuff you for the trip." He lazily tossed a bundle of cloth at the kit - the hooded t-shirt he had left downstairs. "Have you got everything?"

Nick shifted. "... Need my shoes."

"Stay there." The jaguar raised a warning paw. He wasn't going to give Nick the chance to run or retrieve a weapon. "Where are they?"

The kit swore. "I dunno, man. Ask the asshole."

"If you mean your guardian, he's gone for a walk." The jaguar folded his thick, meaty arms. "Where would they be?"

Nick's head just hung. This was already so humiliating, but he didn't have the energy to fight now - and he didn't want to spend the long drive back to Wilder Springs in handcuffs. "I dunno. I lost them."

The jaguar nodded at his canine partner, who slipped out of the room and shut the door firmly.

After only a few seconds, the door was pushed open again and the wolf walked in. He tossed the brand-new, white sneakers at the desolate boy. "Put them on."

Weakly, Nick retrieved them and started to shove his foot-paws into them, not taking the time to undo the laces. He slipped the t-shirt onto his slender torso and stood. His knees buckled momentarily, but recovered.

"Alright, come on." The jaguar stepped over to him, paw raised, mindless of the boy's involuntary flinch as he did. "Don't do anything stupid. Just gonna put my paw on your shoulder and hold onto you until we get you in the car."

The burly feline did that, though his other paw roughly grasped at the side of Nick's ¾ khakis, slipping a pair of fingers through one of the belt-loops on the boy's waist, grabbing it tightly.

Nick almost protested, especially when it caused the crotch of his pants to be pulled upwards, and the waist to be cinched tighter, but there was no point.

Shoulders limp and the speed of his gait controlled by the adult forcing him onwards, Nick found himself being pushed insistently in front of his 'escorts' while they directed him downstairs.

Gary had left. Not wanting to even say goodbye. Nick took a shuddering breath and stumbled, though he was caught and held standing by his captor.

The front door came into view as he was walked like an errant toddler to the foyer.

He was going back.

Back to being all alone.

Back to being tackled to the ground and held there for hours.

Back to the group 'therapy' sessions.

Back to having everyone around him tell him he was sick. A criminal. A pervert.

Back to being forced to talk to the scornful, heartless groups of adults and teens about when he was raped, telling them everything until he could talk no longer. About when he was beaten. Locked in the basement...

Having to say that it was all his fault.

The jaguar's paw left his shoulder briefly, extending towards the heavy door's handle...

It all crashed down on Nick like a tsunami of horror. An incredible revulsion at what awaited him... A breaking wave that shattered upon him, overwhelming him with realization.

"No!" he choked out, his stomach upending and his entire body going numb.

Before the word, before even the change in the posture of the young boy he was holding by the waist had registered for the jaguar, Nick had lashed out. He twisted around, throwing every ounce of strength into his next action.

Had he not, had he not done it so suddenly and without warning, the adult would have easily controlled him. But his desperately-thrown fist struck true, straight into the escort's groin. The jaguar buckled and Nick, acting on an instinct he never knew he possessed, threw himself head-first at the twisted face that was now at his height.

With his entire body behind it, the head-butt knocked the adult to the floor, releasing his captive's pants.

Staggered momentarily, Nick barely managed to twist out of the wolf's lunging paw, and with a panicked, unthinking cry, the cheetah boy took flight. His mind burst into flames, and a primal, unexplainable fear once more tainted his thoughts.

He was screaming as he rounded the hallway and charged into the disused dining room. His vision narrowed to become a hazy tunnel. There was a crash as loud as any Nick's ears had ever heard and he collapsed to the ground with a stifled yelp.

All around him was shattered glass and picture frames. He had run straight into the cabinet - though he didn't understand it. Gasping in panicked breaths through his sore throat, the boy looked around with terrified incomprehension.

One second ago, he had been running. How had he fallen? What was the crash? Where was-!?

Suddenly, his eyes focused on the top of the cabinet... as an urn of white marble rolled towards the edge.

Why he did it, Nick would never be sure.

He leapt to his paws and caught the urn just as it tumbled off the cabinet, holding it high above his head.

As the wolf rounded the corner after him, his features set with grim determination, Nick could only stare incredulously at the object he had surrendered himself to save...

The jaguar, nose bloodied but otherwise appearing fine, was only a second behind his partner.

It was over in seconds.

The remains of Gary's mother were removed from his grasp, and Nick's best efforts didn't even slow the escorts as they expertly pulled and tripped him to the ground, pulling his arms together behind him.

His crying and pleading didn't even give them pause as he felt cold metal tightly encircle his slender wrists through his short fur.

However, when they brought him to his feet again, dragging him almost savagely to the front door together, the hopeless boy was strangely silent...

Gary placed the vodka bottle gently beside his monitor, closing his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"... The door was open, Gary." The familiar, mellow voice was tinged with sadness. "I did call out. I didn't mean to barge in, just wanted to be sure you were alright."

Alcohol burning the back of his throat, Gary turned in his chair, cracking open his eyes to stare dully at the coyote.

"Disappointed, Czejak?" he asked sourly, reaching for the vodka again.

"... Yes."

"Trust me," Gary swigged from the bottle directly, vaguely realizing he hadn't done that since his teenage years, "not as much as I am."

"I suppose so." Czejak sighed. "Though, frankly, I doubt either of us can come close to what he feels like."

Gary took the bottle from his muzzle, coughing as the liquid seared his insides and made him gag.

In silence, they both merely stared at the floor, some arbitrary space between one another. Unwilling to meet the other's eyes.

But Czejak sighed. "I'm sorry, Gary, but I can't just not say this: do you have any idea what you've done to him?"

The cheetah shook his head. "I'm not changing my mind, doc."

"No, I suppose it's too late for that." Czejak nodded. "He won't trust anyone now. It took a year just to get him to give this a try; now he's been burned again. I think that was the last chance."

Gary thumped the bottle on the desk again. "The fuck do you want me to do, doc?" he demanded, a brief crack in his voice. "How could I keep him here after that?!"

"After what?"

The cheetah sniffed. "I took advantage of him, Czejak. I should've known he was just trying to fucking bribe me... w-with his god damn body. How sick is that?! How sick is it that I-!? Fuck!!"

"That doesn't sound like what happened to me."

"What?"

Czejak smiled wanly. "Sounds to me more like he seduced you. It also sounds to me that he liked you. Gary, I understand exactly where you're coming from, and to some extent I agree wholeheartedly, but Nick doesn't think like that. You didn't force anything upon him that he didn't want. Had you truly 'lost control', Gary? Would you have continued after he said to stop? I'm not going to stand here and openly condone what you did then, but what you did after was far worse, Gary."

"I-! N-no!" Gary wiped at his nose. "For fuck's sake, Czejak. I'm not some other kid - another street boy giving him hugs and fucking blowjobs for mutual fucking comfort! I'm an adult, and I-"

"Gary, you have the exact same needs as anyone else, and so does he. Did you ask him if it was all about bribing you? Perhaps he wanted some of that comfort from you. He'd never have wanted to stay with you, or let an adult twice his size touch him like that, if he didn't like you, Gary. Even if you're right, that means he offered himself to you - trusted you that much despite everything other adults had put him through! - because he wanted to stay with you." Czejak swallowed. "You're right, it was more than mere sex play. The fact that he was willing to do this sort of thing with you at all, as if you were another friend, is amazing."

"I told you... a-at first he was scared-"

"Yes, Gary... of course he was. He was pushing at the edges of a relationship, and testing his trust for you." Czejak bit his lip. "Seeing if you were trustworthy."

"Trustwo-? I took advantage of him!" Gary hid his face, an unwelcome dread creeping through his chest. "Christ!"

"Listen, Gary, I understand why you and many others would think what you did was wrong; but cutting Nick loose instead of working with me or other therapists to correct his attitudes towards sex did not help." Czejak weakly shook his head. "It's complicated, Gary. I think we both know that. But was sending him back to that place so abruptly really the mercy you think it was? I hoped your own attitudes toward sex and sexuality had relaxed a little; I never once expected you'd overreact like this."

"Czejak, he's a fucking rape victim!" Gary's voice sounded desperate now. "I couldn't just... I-it's his attitude towards it that's fucked up!"

Czejak blinked. "Yes, but he'll be the first to tell you that rape is not the same as what you and he did. He was lucky in that he never associated sexuality with that incident - or perhaps his friends helped him with that. What he did with you was clearly not the same thing."

The cheetah bit his lip. "W-wh-what about his foster father?" he whispered shakily. "What about that son of a bitch? After everything he did to Nick, how can I be his dad and do the same shit?"

Now Czejak looked truly bemused. "What?" he asked, frowning. "Gary... Nick was never raped by his foster father. Quite the opposite; he was devoutly religious, never once touched Nick in any manner that could be called sexual. He's been raped just once, Gary, but he's been routinely belittled, ignored, beaten and abandoned by almost everyone he's ever been placed with."

Finally, Gary stared at his therapist, his eyes watering painfully. The visage of the coyote in front of him was now just a wavering, unfocused blur. "W-what?"

However, the coyote was merciless.

"Which of those did you put him through once again?" he asked gently. "You're right, you did take advantage of what he offered you. Think about how it appears to him now. You took what he offered, and then you tossed him aside."

The cheetah froze.

"I'm sorry, Gary." Czejak turned back to the door he'd entered through. "I'm not trying to upset you, or blame anyone. I'm just... a little distraught myself. Have to go see what I can do for Nick now, assuming he'll be willing to talk to me."

"I'm sorry, doc..."

"It's alright, Gary. I'm glad you tried."

"Nick won't ever try again, will he? H-he gave me a chance, and I fucked him over like I said I wouldn't."

"I have no idea, Gary." Czejak shrugged helplessly.

"H-he ran into my mom's cabinet..." Gary took a juddering breath. "I don't- Was he just trying to break things? I-- he's done it before. My mom's urn... shit."

"Gary... I doubt he did it on purpose. I really do." A wan smile. "I'll see you soon, okay? Be well."

Gary picked up his vodka again with trembling paws. "I doubt you'll see me soon, doc. P-probably never again."

"I don't want that, Gary. Things didn't work out; I don't want anyone to ruin themselves over it." The counselor smiled wryly, even though Gary was now staring at the bottle in his paws. "Besides, if anything, this has told me we still have to work on your issues."

Gary drank from his bottle again. "You just added to them... making business for yourself?" He chortled dourly.

"Maybe. It does pay to think ahead. See you soon, Gary."

Gary simply raised his bottle in a half-drunken farewell.

Yet, when the coyote had at last left, closing the front door that Gary had left open for him in his earlier mindless depression, the cheetah crossed his arms on the computer desk and thumped his head down onto them.

"Gary... you're a piece of shit..."

End of Chapter Four

• Kichigai Kitsune, 2011