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I floated in and out of consciousness for what felt like an eternity, not sure if I was leaving or staying, but in the back of my mind, I knew where it was I wanted to go. Surely, even death would be better than the nightmare of a life I lived in. Unfortunately, I could hear my name being called out in the distance, and as it grew closer to my awareness, I felt myself waking up for real this time.

Slowly, my senses came back to me. There was the deep red under my closed eyelids informing me that I was in a lit area, the sounds of rhythmic beeping and tones meant I was probably in a hospital.

"Ash, can you hear me? I think he's waking up."

That voice sounded familiar, but my head hurt too much for me to try and place it. The air smelled stale, but clean, and as I tested out my muscles, the feeling of a bed underneath me and bedding being cautiously gripped by my paws told me the rest. Taking in a deep breath, I just barely opened my eyes, letting in just a small amount of light to avoid shocking my eyes.

"Oh, OH! Ashdyn, you're here!"

My breath caught as I recognized that voice all too well, knowing my mother's tone immediately. Turning my head towards the source, I forced my eyes open a little bit more.

"Mom?"

Her paws caught my own, holding it gently. I stifled a soft cry from my throat as I suddenly realized how much I would have lost by dying. They brushed over my pads, lightly stroking my fingers as she massaged the small tendons there. Even with me being an adult, there wasn't a single thing more comforting or safe than my mother's touch and as she held me, I felt all my tension melt away for the time being, glad to know that she was here with me.

"How long has it been?"

"Just a little under three days, honey. I rushed here as soon as I heard. Your father would have come too, but he was in China for a business meeting and only relented on leaving it to see you because I told him I could take care of it."

"Heard from who, mom?"

"The cops called me after they got you in the ambulance. What on earth had you walking down an alley at night in Chicago?"

My stomach cramped up at the question. I didn't want to answer it, but wanted to keep secrets from my mother even less so. She knew almost everything anyway.

"Someone from high school recognized me at a bar. He started telling everyone what I was. He was that bull from the gym, Mom. Those stares and looks, the finger pointing, it hurt too much. I needed to escape, but didn't realize until miles of aimless running later that I was really trying to escape myself."

The feelings were all too familiar, but with my mother here, I felt like I could at least keep them from overwhelming me.

"You've been doing that a lot, Ash. You tried to escape through video games and fighting the first couple years, then through numerous boyfriends and girlfriends in high school. Then you left Burbank to try and escape all of it. What you have to understand is that you're never going to stop being you, no matter what you do about it."

"I don't want to be me, though. The only things that follow me around are pain and solitude. I played those games because I didn't want to be around anyone. In high school, I couldn't stand the isolation anymore and started looking to anyone to show me that I could find love outside of my home. By the time I graduated, the only thing I wanted was to get away from everything I knew."

"I understand your reasons, honey, but it's only going to hurt more the more you try and run from it. This is who you are and you need to accept it, not run from it. There are those out there who will accept you for who you are as well, but it will be hard to find them if you can't even find yourself."

I sighed in defeat, knowing that this conversation would end like many of the last ones had, with my mom declaring that I was special and that I should take pride in it. She didn't live with my crutch, my disease, only around it, and without the former perspective, it would be almost impossible to make her understand. No one had ever accepted me for who I was, or cared enough to do anything for me after they found out. No one...except.

"Mom."

"Yes, dear?"

"I need to go back there. I don't think the cops found me first. I think I know who did."

"Why is that important?"

"Because he heard what I was from the bull in the bar and ran after me when I fled. I think he also followed me when I left his house even after I yelled at him in fear. He's the one who found me and called the police."

Excitement welled within me as I saw the difference between him and the others. He hadn't chased after me from the bar and brought me to his house so he could fuck me, but rather to keep me safe and warm. Every opportunity for him had been there, and still, even after he had found me, he had respected my request for him to leave me alone and departed when the cops came.

"You want to go back and thank him?"

"Yes, and apologize for lashing out. He did nothing to deserve it."

"Okay. I'll go talk to the staff and see what they can do. They plan on keeping you here for a couple days for observation. Is it possible that you might have his number or remember his name?"

"I only know his first name. Trevor something. He's a cheetah who apparently goes to the bar I was at a lot. If I can't leave, maybe you could check there?"

"I'll see what I can do. They should be bringing in food soon. Eat what you can and then get some more rest. Your body needs as much as you can give it. I'll be back as quickly as possible."

"Thanks."

The fourth shot of tequila went down much the same as the first had. There was little I could do to quell the immense pain I felt inside me. My wife had left me two months ago, though the process had drug on long before that. With money from her new rich boyfriend, fiancé or whatever she called him, she had hired a lawyer that had succeeded in taking all I had. It was hard to imagine how far I'd fallen, but my thoughts refused to stay on me, instead constantly shifting over to the black cat I had met three nights ago.

My perspective of how bad I had it had been shattered into a thousand pieces. I hadn't truly believed the bull that night about the feline male having a vagina instead of the usual equipment, but when I had carried the shivering, recently sobbing guy in and taken off his clothes to dry him out, the sight had left me speechless. How he had lived this long with that burden was amazing. When he woke up, I had hoped for a chance to talk to him, but the countless years of pain had probably left him more wary than a mouse.

When he left, I had waited in my piece of shit apartment for a couple minutes, deliberating in my head whether or not to follow, finally deciding on the latter. Heading in the direction of the bar, I ran to try and catch sight of him. The roar followed a few minutes later and I ran towards it in terror, expecting to see the worst. With the blood dripping out of his jaw, his form unconscious yet again, I acted on instinct. I pulled him underneath an awning and then hugged him tightly, doing all I could to transfer over the body heat.

After the ambulance left with him, I knew it was the last time I'd see him. The confrontation with the bull would have him gone from the city within a few days. I wasted away in my apartment for a couple days, broke and cold. With little to hope for and no future on the horizon, I had planned it all out for tonight. Handing the bartender a cancelled credit card to hold as a tab, I would drink until I couldn't feel anymore. The sixth shot felt a bit smoother, but I knew I wasn't there yet. Had a bottle of six Percocet in my pocket and I was just waiting for the right time to go to sleep forever.

Once I downed the eighth shot, I felt my fingers go numb, just a few little tingles surging through the digits here and there, but that's when my ears heard the clang of the door at the front of the bar. Looking up, my vision kind of blurry, I was stunned to see a gorgeous black feline enter inside. My eyes lit up, thinking that he might have come back for me, but when the cat opened her mouth to talk to the bartender, I knew I wasn't the lucky man. That is, up until she looked at me, with the waiter handing me my ninth shot. She strode over as I downed the glass, looking down at me with a passing glance over.

"Are you Trevor?"

"Yessh. Whats you need?"

She wrinkled her face, probably in reaction to the strong smell of liquor on my breath.

"Well, whatever I need, my son needs it more. He told me to come get you, said you might be at the bar? Do you always drink this much?"

"Noth really, but-"

"Whatever. It isn't important right now. Ashdyn really wants to see you to make things up. I'll help you out to the car if you're willing to come along."

I nodded in delirious excitement, the sudden knowledge that this was Ash's mother registering in my muddled brain.

"I thought he didn't wantch me near him."

"Maybe not then. He told me he was scared. A lot of the ones he trusted initially turned out to be terrible mistakes, so he's become a lot more wary. Now, come with me."

I didn't resist when she grabbed my arm and lifted me up, nor when she used a second paw to help steady me when I nearly fell over. There were quite a few eyes on us, but I ignored them, except for the two belonging to the bartender.

"Hey! You can't just leave without paying up."

Turning towards him, the sober mother pulled a small purse from her shoulder.

"How much is the tab?"

"Thirty-six fifty. He gave us his credit card ma'am. I don't think there'll be a need for you to pay."

Gently, as if understanding, she looked at me.

"Is that card going to run?"

I shook my head and she completed her exchange. The bartender shrugged and as soon as she had her change, we were on our way out. Helping me get into the car, we were soon on our way back to the hospital. She had a few statements for me first, though.

"You used a fake credit card, you're completely wasted and I'm supposed to trust you with my son? You had better not cause more trouble for him, or else I will personally render you earless. You understand me?"

"Yes, I do."

Now that I was removed from the alcohol, I had started to realize the extent to which I had taken this. I could feel the bottle of pills in my pocket and wanted to throw them out the window. In reality, I was terrified. How could I have let myself come so close to ending all of it when Ash was willing to let me back? Of course it had to take time. No one in his situation, alone, in unfamiliar territory, vulnerable, would have acted differently. Now I just had to hope that I could handle myself inside.

I must have looked like a patient that needed to be brought in the way I was walking, but no one tried to throw me on a stretcher. We rode the elevator up to the third floor before she led to the fourth room on the right. She turned to me one last time before squeezing my shoulder.

"I've dealt with those in pain before. Ash inspired me to look into taking up therapy and counseling as a new career. I don't know how badly you've had it, but I can tell it's been rough lately for you as well. I'm not angry at you; if my son is willing to call for you back, then I'm willing to let this go."

Smiling back at her, I cautiously made my way into the room, sitting down next to his bed. Only when the door shut did I realize I was alone. The mother had taken a seat just outside of the waiting room, close enough to hear if Ash called for her, but far enough away to give the two of us privacy. Taking a look at him, I sighed, feeling at fault for what had brought him here. His right eye was swollen, not entirely shut, but pretty badly and he had a bandage wrapped around his chest, protecting his ribs.

Once I built up the courage, I slowly let my paw fall on his forehead, stroking his head fur with my thumb. I wanted him to wake up, but the last thing I wanted was to startle him. Soon, I felt him rustle around gently, one of his paws coming up to grip my own before he opened his eyes.

"Trevor?"

"Ash. How are you?"