Choice
Perhaps the hardest thing that Barton ever did was to force himself to pretend not to care too much. The young rabbit would have a tough enough time trusting him not to turn them in to the authorities, much less believe that he actually wanted to help. He risked putting a forepaw to her shoulder, pressing down slightly as if trying to convince her not to run. He was sure that she wouldn't; she would never leave her sibling behind, if indeed that's who this was.
"When did th' illness start?" he asked.
It was the sick bunny that answered him, with a voice so ragged and full of pain that it was hard to distinguish gender. "About a week ago. They threw us out of the shelter... no real medical facilities; said I might make everyone sick. Lyss could have sta--"
"Don't be stupid Ly! There was no way I was staying there without you!"
Well, there was one confirmation at least. This was a matched pair, by blood or otherwise. There was no mistaking the devotion in the would-be attacker's voice. Helping one meant helping two, not that it was a consideration worth dithering over. In his heart, he felt Wallace warming him with congratulations on his courage, telling him not to stop now. He leaned in low enough to see the tiny burrow they had tried to make, and saw what he figured had to be their only possessions - a pair of backpacks, as ragged, wet, and filthy as the rabbits themselves. Before he gave up his heart entirely, he'd best find out just how much trouble the two were in.
"Who's after ye?" he asked, softly but firmly. "An' it's the truth yer tellin', or sure an' I'll have t' call the authorities. Why d' ye say they'd kill ye? Is it somethin' ye've done?"
"We didn't... we never..." The sick bunny succumbed to another fit of coughing as the other held him close and tightly, as if afraid the hacking would cause the body to implode. When the semblance of breathing returned, the doe spoke without turning her head.
"A wolf and his mate, he... they..." She shook her head took a deep breath, and spit out the rest in a rush of fierce breath. "They adopted us... two years ago. He wanted a pair of young girls he could... raise as his own..." An angry, bitter laugh echoed against the walls, a sound that should never have come from such a young voice. "Imagine his surprise when he found out..." The laughter died in a choked off sob as the last of her bravado cracked and she wept brokenly while clinging to her sibling.
That did it. For good or ill, the badger's heart broke, and he knew that he had to help them. He looked about quickly, saw that no one had noticed them down the alley. He leaned toward the ragamuffin pair and spoke quietly. "Ye've no reason in the world t' trust me," he said. "But I want t' help. That's me spa back there, place called The Getaway. If nothin' else, there's a sauna room where your sister can breathe warm, moist air t' help her lungs. I c'n rustle up a bit o' food, have a place where ye can clean up, and if ye don't mind the cramped space, a back room to hide in for a little while. Get yer bearings, figure yer next move. Will ye let me help?"
"How do I know..." She hiccoughed through her tears. "How do I know you won't..."
"Two things, missy. First, yer both a bit young f' me, and second, ye've both got the wrong plumbin'. I'm gay."
The look in the healthy doe's eye changed sharply, as if she'd made a sudden realization. To trust him, perhaps?
"Let's have it this way," he said. "Ye said ye'd toss the trash for me - you do that. Get yer packs and come over t' that door." He pointed behind himself. "I'll leave it propped open. I'll go in there an' get a few things ready. Ye like tea? Coffee? Hot chocolate? Got all three, and a hot drink should go down well after all this chill. I've got a washer an' dryer for yer clothes, ye can shower privately, put on robes and towels and all 'till the washin's done."
The rabbit looked up at him, the pinch on her face trying to decide, trying to fathom this offer, this stranger's motives.
"I've got clients most of th' day," he said. "If nothin' else, I'll be too busy t' do anything t' ye, and there'd be too many witnesses." The badger actually smirked a little. "That line up wi' what you're thinkin'? I prolly would, were I in yer place. Nobody believes someone wants to do a bit o' good anymore. Look here, lass: I'm doin' this because m' mate would want me to. I'm goin' back in now, and I'm gonna hope ye follow soon. Me first client is due in about half an hour, and I'd like to get ye situated before then."
_ Wallace, by you and all the other saints, help me,_ he thought, then played the final card of trust. He turned his back on the pair and padded slowly to his salon door, praying that he wasn't wrong...
* * * * * * * * * *
He didn't notice!
This one thought became the high note in Lyris' mind as the badger - she rethought the comment, the stupid badger turned his back on her. At the least, he should have backed away a good few meters before doing that. The idiot wouldn't last a night on the street. Come to that, she thought,Lyal may not either...
"Lyss..." the buck wheezed. "Let's go with him."
The doe whirled on her brother, her face twisted in angry disbelief. "What?"
"Not much choice. What can we lose?"
"You heard him - he's gay! He thinks you're my sister, but what happens when he finds out otherwise? You think for a minute that he'd stop himself from..."
A wracking, ragged cough erupted from Lyal before he could stop it entirely, and it took several seconds for him to bring it under control. "Dammit, Lyris, we've got no choice. We can't go back to the shelter; they'll bar me at the door for fear of the flu running through the entire place. We can't take another night like last night. I can't, at least." He grunted, raising himself to his hindpaws, wobbling a bit before he steadied himself against the dumpster. Turning to his sister, his eyes bore down into hers, that firm and logically insistent Big Brother look that usually won out, even over the I always get my way that Lyris would treat him to. "Besides, it's nothing I haven't done before. You stick it in your muzzle and suck till it blows." He paused, shaking his head a little. "He doesn't look like that type anyway. And he seems pretty stable otherwise, too; I think we could trust him. Or at least take him up on his offer. If there's a price tag, we'll pay it and move on, like always."
"He looked stable to, in public." Neither had to ask for identification. It was almost like that book about the young wizard, and _He Who Must Not Be Named._After a long moment, the doe nodded. "All right. We'll take the chance. But so help me, if he tries to hurt you..." She left the threat hanging in the air, not certain how much of it was bluster and how much was a choice she prayed that she never had to make. She murred a little as he reached out to touch her cheek gently, felt her heart lighten when he smiled at her. "Okay. I'll get the trash bags, you get our packs."
Lyal nodded as Lyris went for the trash bags. They were too heavy for her to lift them both, so she made two trips out of it. Being the tidy sort, she took the flattened cardboard they'd been using for insulation and, determining that there wasn't a proper recycle bin, tossed it into the dumpster as well. She dusted off her paws in an unconscious gesture of "job well done" and turned back to her brother. He had both packs in his paws. Everything they had in the world was packed into those two tired, filthy, bedraggled packs, and they couldn't leave them behind. She tried to take the bags from him, but he shook his head, the stubborn bunny, so she slipped an arm around him and let him lean against her as they made their slow way to the door with the now-strangely appropriate legend GETAWAY. She wondered in what sense they should take it - invitation or warning. She could feel warm air escaping from inside, unsure if it were a warm tropical breeze or the breath of a cruel and hungry dragon.
"Ly-bunny? Are we making a mistake?"
He kissed her cheek softly. "We're making a choice."
"The right choice?"
Both of them looked at the partially-open door with longing.
"A warm choice, at least." He leaned in close to let his whiskers dance against hers, what their birth mother had called "butterfly kisses." "Got my paws full, Lyss... let's get inside."
The doe nodded slowly and released him. Pulling the door open, Lyris stood to one side as her one and only, best beloved brother stepped into the warm, inviting unknown.
It felt like being wrapped in a blanket fresh from the clothes dryer. (Who was it that said, "Happiness is a warm blanket"?) The young female hadn't realized just how much she'd been shivering until it started to subside a little. She turned to Lyal when she heard him drop the packs to the floor. The look on his face was about as close to ecstasy as she'd ever seen without his being involved in something sexual. The expression surprised her enough that she almost didn't notice him about to fall over. She caught him in time, nearly tumbling to the floor herself; his weight wasn't much, but at the moment, neither was her strength. She looked frantically around, shoved a small box off a larger one, and carefully helped him sit down. She maneuvered him to lean against another stack of boxes, made sure that neither boxes nor brother would topple over, then turned to deal with the door. With a last look out into the alleyway, a tiny breath escaping her lips that might have been a prayer, she slowly pulled closed the door - for better or worse - behind her.
* * * * * * * * * *
Barton, tending to the front of the shop a bit, raised his head - boxes falling over? Not a big crash, but what had... it was then that he heard the door close. His stomach twiddled a bit. Whatever it was that he had invited in, be it friend or foe, it was now inside his sanctuary. He found himself remembering several old sci-fi stories where the seeming innocent was actually some horrible monster, and he hoped he was wrong.
Trust, my lovely. Not too far, but just enough. Not every good deed gets punished.
He nodded, as if he'd just heard Wallace voice in his ear instead of his mind, and padded gently toward the storeroom at the back, wrapping the meerkat's spirit around himself like a cloak. He cleared his throat almost pretentiously as he approached the open door to the storeroom. Despite the fairly potent scents of the various conditioning and grooming products that he used, he still had a heady and potent whiff of rabbit - some of it the flop-sweat of fear, some from days of exertion without a bath, and some... he hated to admit it, but some of it was sex, and not all of it was rabbit. The badger's stomach lurched a bit as he suddenly realized part of how the poor kits had been staying alive.
_ But they_ are alive, luv. Don't judge too harshly.
_ Not judging, my kit... just wishing we lived in a better world._
_ Then make it better. Start here._
"It's just me," he said, before entering. "I'm still alone. Are ye all right?"
"We're in here," the elder (not by much) bunny said. Resignation. Fear. Hoping she hadn't made a mistake. The mere sound of it hurt Barton's heart. The old badger stopped in the door frame and looked at the pair. The healthier of the two - by all the Saints, neither was really healthy at all - stood looking back at him, not exactly defiant but still looking as though she might bolt in a second if she had the chance. The elder sat slumped on some boxes, her breathing still poor, but the look on her face told of her gratitude that the air was at least warm. Neither rabbit was shivering as much, perhaps only because it the warmth. Part of it was fear, and that wouldn't go away easily.
"Introductions all 'round?" he asked, hoping to sound casual. "I'm Barton, or Barty if ye prefer. What c'n I call ye?"
"I'm Lyris ... or just Lyss," the more buxom doe said. "This is Lyal."
"Sisters?"
"Yes."
Barton noticed a quick look from the younger to the older but let it go. "I don't want t' rush ye, but as I say, th' place will be a bit busy soon. Come w' me; we'll set ye up in one of the private rooms. There's no lock on either side of th' door, but all me clients and employees respect th' 'Do Not Enter' sign when it's up. No one will come in without yer say-so. C'mon then, bring yer things. We'll get ye set up in there."
The older doe ... Lyris ... hesitated, looked at her sibling. "Lyal, can you get up?"
The bunny resting against the boxes tried to nod, but ultimately, moving too much didn't seem as easy as hoped. The breathing was a little less labored, but it was still ragged. Barton would have bet the shop it had been a good day or more since either of the bunnies had eaten, and he'd have taken odds against it having been even longer. The other one - Lyal - just didn't have the strength.
"Change o' plan," the badger announced. He approached slowly and squatted down next to the younger sibling. "Lyal... I want to carry ye into th' sauna. We can adjust th' temperature right, add some steam to help yer lungs to work better, and ye can rest. It's quiet, dark, and ye'll probably be able to fall asleep in there if ye want to. Will ye let me carry ye there? I really think ye'll feel better..."
Lyris burst into voice. "How do I know you won't hurt h-- her? How do you..."
He looked up at her. "There are no locks on that door either; a push lets ye out at once. That's the law, so no one can get trapped in there. I'll show ye how to work the controls. At the very worst, ye can help her out of it at once, or call me to help. It's not a trap. I don't eat steamed rabbit or anythin' such like. All right?"
While the elder made up her mind to let him help, Barton moved slowly to the younger and knelt before her, looking into her eyes. "I can carry ye, lass. It's just a short hop down the hall... forgive the pun." He reached out, looking into the milk-chocolate brown eyes, hoping that he wasn't about to grab a tiger by its tail. At length, the bunny managed a small smile and leaned forward into the badger's embrace.
As he gathered the young rabbit into his arms, the movement caused the fur and clothing to cast scents into the air. Barton caught the rank whiff of garbage, the smell of sickly sweat, and enough confirmation of maleness to know that the poor kits had indeed done what they had to do to live. Sauna first; bath later, to get rid of all that other smell and let the does smell like themselves for a change. Bracing his back as well as his nose, Barton lifted and raised up on his hind paws. The lass tumbled against him, putting her arms around his neck. The badger would have been surprised if the poor thing would top 40 kilos, limbs too thin, ribs showing, even showing some signs of guarding; her lungs must have hurt like the very devil. The elder doe reached up to touch her sister tenderly. "I'm here, Ly-bunny... I'm not going anywhere..."
"This way now, lass." The badger jutted a chin toward the hallway, and the sister moved out ahead of him, carrying the backpacks with her. "T' yer right now. Door on the left, see it?"
Lyris pointed to be sure, and Barton nodded. She clearly was looking for a latch or a lock and, finding none, pulled on the solid wooden knob to open the passage into the sauna. Hot steamy air billowed out, even warmer than in the passageway itself. The brief flicker in the doe's eyes told Barton that his joke about "steamed rabbit" was probably misplaced. Even so, the doe held the door open, and the old badger stepped in to set her sister onto one of the three benches in the room. "Here now, just ye relax against that corner there, just like that. Prolly best ye nae lay down t' start. That's the way..." He adjusted the rabbit's limbs tenderly to her side. She managed to croak out a weak "thank you," and Barton realized that at least their time on the streets hadn't worn away all of their manners. He took it as a good sign.
"I'll get ye towels and robes, and ye can get outta those clothes." The old badger turned to the elder sister, still speaking softly. "Got a washer 'n drier in the back, so collect 'em up in a pile fer me, will ye?"
Lyris nodded, almost starting to take off her clothes right then and there. He left quickly before she got too far into the process. Not that he'd be tempted by anything, but he didn't want the slightest chance of anyone being able to say that he'd laid an inappropriate paw on either of them. He grabbed a few of the largest towels he had from the linen storage to take back to them, finding two of the smaller white terry-cloth robes that he kept in stock for his customers to use when they didn't bring one of their own. A glance at the clock told him he had only a few more minutes at most before his first client of the day would be here.
Upon returning to the sauna door, he knocked first to make sure that didn't just walk in on the pair. Lyris didn't speak, simply opening the door to him; he was grateful that she'd not disrobed after all. He handed his stack of useful fabrics to the older girl, then gestured back down the hall. "Two doors down on the right is o' of the private rooms; I'll put a sign on for ye so's ye won't be disturbed. When I get a chance, I'll come fer yer clothes and get 'em in the washer; ye've each got robes in th' stack here. Iffn' ye need aught else, lemme know when I come back t' ye."
He smiled as reassuringly as he could when she took the towels. "The steam and warm air should help yer sister, lass, but if it gets too much for ye, she'll be safe enough in here if ye need to step out." He didn't touch her; something told him that it would be unwise. Just at this moment, she appeared ready to fall apart herself. "Sleep if ye can, ye look like ye need it." Then he left them there, heading for the front of the spa.
He felt more than heard Wallace's voice. I'm proud of you, love...
* * * * * * * * * *
Lyris' priority was to check the door once more, ensuring that there really wasn't a way to lock them in (or the old badger out, but there you go), and then she retreated back inside the sauna and sank onto another of the benches, looking over at her twin with a mixture of sheer confusion and - let's be honest - a touch of disgust, for herself and him both. More accurately, she wrinkled her nose as she smelled the stench coming off of their fur and clothes, a toxic note even above the slight spruce-like scent of the wood in the sauna and the faint tinge of something (lavender?) that seemed mixed with the steam. The term "stink out loud" took on a whole new meaning, and it was time to do something about it.
First things first - she had to get him changed. She set the towels and robes onto the bench and stripped off her own clothes before turning to help her brother. Carefully, she stripped his jacket and shirt off, keeping herself between him and the door on the off chance that the badger came back suddenly. She was far less concerned about him seeing her naked than of discovering that her "sister" wasn't exactly as advertised. The robe went over his shoulders and hung off him, too large for his slender frame despite the garment seeming small, like a girl's. It hurt the doe to see that she could count his ribs through his fur. She shook her head gently, knowing she wasn't much better off. Gently, she guided his sleeping form so that his legs were on the bench, to give her access to his jeans. There was no embarrassment in her at seeing him naked; she was as familiar with his body as she was with her own, for reasons other than mere biological association. Once she had him bundled into the robe, she tucked a towel between the wall and his head, a makeshift pillow, and then draped another over his shrouded form like a blanket. The freshness of the towels helped to cover the smell, just as their shapelessness helped to cover his gender.
Next step. The old honey badger said he had a washing machine. It'd been at least a month since they'd had the money to visit a Laundromat, so she started pulling clothing out of their bags figuring everything should be washed. While sorting through the un-washable possessions, her fingers found and lovingly stroked the small picture album that held their only link to their past before the wolf. In the soft, quiet, momentarily safe space around her, she gave herself a few seconds to relax and remember before she regained herself and shoved it back into her nearly empty backpack. Lyal's held only his clothing and the recipe book that their grandmother had written in her own paw. Truth told, he was the better cook, so it was only fitting that he should keep charge of it. She hardly dared think that there might be a day when he again would be able to make the old granddam's red cabbage casserole and spaetzle. He found herself drooling and stopped thinking about it.
She fussed with the side seams on both bags to find their tiny fortune of coins and paper, counting it slowly. If she was careful, she might be able to get him some medicine, but that would leave them with nothing again. She tucked all the money away once more, and put the bags right next to Lyal's hind paws. She wrapped herself in the softness of a clean robe, letting her nose have a holiday from the terrible smells still on her fur and the pile of clothes that she had set just inside the door. She could go look for the washing machine, but she didn't want to leave Lyal, much less go wandering through the spa, possibly bumping into some stranger. The old mustelid had said that there were showers here too, and she let herself dream of one for a moment or two, nearly drooling over that thought as well. It would have to wait.
She moved back to Lyal's side and sat on the floor near him, leaning up against the bench. He was asleep, out like a light, his breathing shallow but for the first time in days, not nearly so ragged. The warm, moist air must be doing some kind of good. She let the thought comfort her a little, and she realized that she was tired. Tired, and sore, and heartsick, and quiet, and warm, and wrapped up in a soft robe, and Lyal sounded better, and...
The thoughts leaked from her mind and, in something less than three minutes, she slept peacefully, for the first time in more weeks than she would have cared to count even if she'd been awake enough to try...