Strangers
#3 of Analgesics
With Pika's health problems unimproved, Wires offers to take her to the doctor.
Wires woke up at 4am, to the sound of gagging. He sat up, feeling an uncomfortable tugging around his ears. He'd fallen asleep with his earbuds in. Instead of untangling them, he unplugged them from the CD player next to his bed. He walked into the living room with them still dangling around his neck. Pika's sleeping bag was laying empty on the floor. The contents of her backpack were strewn all over it, and his carpet, along with several crumpled paper bags and an empty 40oz bottle of beer. He picked up the bottle and was about to put it in the recycling when he heard the gagging sound again, followed by a wet splatter. He set the bottle down on the kitchen counter and followed the noise to the bathroom. Pika was lying on the bathroom floor, wrapped around his toilet. She was breathing heavily, and there were blood smears all around the bowl. "Pika?" he asked, and she turned to look at him. He had never seen her so entirely defeated. There was blood streaming out of her nose. The stain stretched across her lower jaw and onto her chest. She opened her mouth over the toilet to retch again, and he noticed the loose tooth was no longer in her jaw. "Pika, your mouth..." "It's...the sink." she said, and vomited into the toilet. His whole bathroom was suddenly coated in a wash of the smells of beer and blood. The vomit was a bright red color, and had suspicious-looking chunks in it. Wires took a few uncomfortable steps back. "No, it's okay. It's blood and snot I swallowed." "I don't know, this looks pretty bad." "Don't call the hospital." "I really don't like this." "I don't have insurance." said Pika. Wires hesitantly took a single step out of the bathroom door. Pika looked up at him pleadingly. "Wires, I'm fine. Can you get me a cup?" Wires sucked in his breath. He could feel the fur starting to stand up on the back of his neck. "I hope you know that I'm literally the only person who would let you stay here after this." Pika lifted her head and looked him dead in the eyes. "I know what this is, I want you to stop." Wires stepped out to get her the water, and when he returned, he started rifling through the bathroom cabinets. He took a washcloth and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. "Here." he said, handing her the washcloth. She pressed it to her nose and leaned forward, a foggy look in her eyes. Wires grabbed a pawful of toilet paper and started mopping the blood off of his toilet, floor and sink. The tooth was lying the the drain, and he picked it up with a piece of toilet paper. It was larger and heavier than he'd expected, and he put it on the back of the toilet. Pika seemed alarmed, and reached for it desperately. "Don't worry about that right now, sit up straight." Pika pulled herself up into a sitting position, an arm over the toilet seat. The blood from her nose was soaking the washcloth and leaking into her paw. She wobbled back and forth as she tried to pull her legs under her. "How drunk are you?" "Pretty drunk." said Pika. She leaned over the toilet to spit out a stream of blood. Wires waited for half an hour with her until the nosebleed stopped, and got another cloth to try to dab the blood out of her white coat. Even after considerable effort, there were still pink stains left. She looked very haggard, and didn't even protest when he carefully hooked a claw under her lip and lifted it to reveal barely pink gums. He hastily shoved the cup of water into her paw. "Sorry." he muttered, wiping the last of the peroxide out of her fur. "You can stop trying, Wires. It's okay." said Pika, setting the cup on the floor. "Okay." said Wires. "Tell me if you need anything. You can come sleep in the bed if you want. When you're done, I mean." Pika rested her muzzle on the rim of the toilet seat, but didn't look at him or give him a reply. He left the bathroom door open, then went to the fridge to get two bottled waters. He left one in the bathroom, just within Pika's reach. After drinking most of his own water, and tripping over the cat no more than twice on the way to his room, Wires went back to bed. When he woke up in the morning, he found a warm spot where Keisha had been curled up beside him, but the bed was otherwise empty. "Pika?" he called. There was no answer. The living room was empty. When he went to the kitchen, there was nothing on the fridge. With an unhappy sigh, he headed to the bathroom. Pika was asleep, clutching the blood-spattered toilet like a stuffed animal. Next to her, the cat was curled up in her litterbox next to her own unburied feces and what appeared to be vomit. Wires found his phone, called the office at his job, and took one of his sick days. After the call was over, he moved his dirty dishes into the dish rack and pissed into the kitchen sink.
The next few days were quiet and uneventful. Wires spent most of his time at work, and did his best to avoid Pika, even within the confines of the apartment. He kept the fridge stocked, mostly with meat, and even started to buy some vitamin tablets. Pika never said anything, but he noticed when the tops on the vitamins were popped and the meat dissappeared. He booked her an appointment for the following Saturday at the free clinic, and the two of them were able to maintain a rhythm for the most part. Pika rolled up her sleeping bag, and finally put it away in the closet. A few ten-dollar bills appeared on Wires' coffee table, and sometimes Pika would be missing when he came home, but he did his best to ignore it. When Saturday came around, Wires woke Pika up with a cup of coffee. She rubbed her eyes and sat up on his couch. Her fur was starting to get ruffled again, and both of her eyes were swollen. Despite the frequent cleanings, there were still missing patches and visible bloodstains peppering her face and chest. "I still don't understand why you want to waste this kind of time on me." said Pika, wiping her nose yet again. She rose from the couch and limped to the kitchen, leaving Wires with the coffee cup in his hand. When she returned, she was one-handing a chunk of raw steak on a plate. A fresh cup of coffee was in her other paw. "Did you get into a fight?" "Yes." "What happened?" "I spat lightning out of my face, what do you think happened?" "What are you going to do about that tooth?" "Probably just sell it. I'll grow a new one in a year or two." The two of them sat wordlessly for a few uncomfortable moments. Pika sipped her coffee with all the grace of a vaccum cleaner, and alternated between that and chewing the steak noisily. All the while she kept her eyes locked on the scrolling bottom of the news screen. Wires was still fairly certain she had no idea what the NAASDAC was. "Look, it was my fault. I shouldn't have said that." "I shouldn't have gone in your fridge." said Pika, setting the steak back on her plate with a guilty look. She licked her paws a couple of times, but it was clear that the effort was futile. "I was just so hungry..." "You were going to buy a coffee yourself before I offered to cover it." "Yeah." "You could have gottten food with that." "Okay, first of all fuck you. I meet you in the Starbucks. That's where we always meet. I like you for some fucking reason beyond my comprehension and I just wanted to spend some time with you." "What?" "What do you mean 'what'? I live on the fucking street, Wires. I just wanted to feel like a person. People meet up with their friends and have coffee dates." "It wasn't a date." "You know what the fuck I mean." Wires didn't reply, but sat down next to her on the couch. She skooched herself over until she threatened to squish the cat. Wires couldn't help feeling a little bit hurt. He reached out a paw for her, but she bared her teeth at him. "Stop it! Stop flip-flopping on me, it's really stressing me out. Do you like me? Do you hate me? Like, what's your deal?" "There is no deal." "No, fuck you man! This shit is the shit why Tokui left you. This is emotionally abusive." "Take that back." "Take it--what? No. Are you ten?" "I'm not abusive, take that back." "I'm not taking anything back, because I'm not lying to you. You're an asshole." "Yeah, I'm the asshole." "You know, I used to have a crush on you." Wires knew. In fact, he was sure the entire school knew. "I have no idea what was wrong with me. I loved your eyes, and I thought that stupid black puff on top of your head was cute. But you were an asshole. And you're still an asshole." Wires could have hit her. But he remembered the sad look in her eyes, and he remembered the smell of ozone. He got up and put on his coat. "Let's just go." Pika sucked her teeth, but got up and followed him without a word. The bus ride was quiet and uneventful. Wires spent most of the time staring out of the window and trying to find the most comfortable way to sit on his tail. Pika let hers hang through the slats in the bus seat, where the purple tip hovered inches away from the dirty floor. It twitched now and then, occasionally coming into contact with a stained ball of paper or some other bit of assorted rubbish. Pika sat through it with the indifference of a god. They arrived over 20 minutes early. Pika immediately headed for the bathroom. Wires went up to the front desk and collected her paperwork. There was a doe in the waiting room and Wires sat down a few seats away from her. She was engrossed in a men's fashion magazine and tapping a cloven hoof on the faded carpet. Her fur was a washed-out beige color dappled with white, sharply contrasted by her silky black hooves and bright yellow keratinous growths on her knees and elbows. It took a few moments to realize that they were actually scales. "Excuse me." said Wires. The doe put down her magazine and stared blankly at him. With her face turned towards him, he noticed two small horns poking out of her skull. She smiled at him in a polite, practiced way when she noticed his stare. "If you don't mind me asking, are you a Royal?" "Yes, partly." answered the deer woman. She had a high, lilting voice with a vague Chinese accent. "My father was a stag and my mother was a Qiulin." "Oh, that's cool. Uhm, are you here for yourself? I'm here with a friend." "I'm waiting for my daughter." she said flatly. "You're really pretty. I mean, your fur. It's a nice color." "I know." said the doe, and she lifted the magazine in front of her face. Pika snickered at him from the hallway, having apparently come out of the bathroom early enough to catch the tail of the conversation. When he turned to her, she didn't have the decency to avert her face. She smiled at him, tounge lolling from her jaw. Wires sat there in awkward silence until the doe's daughter, a perfectly normal-looking fawn, skipped out of the doctor's office and into her mother's arms. Pika waved at the two as they exited the office. The doe waved and smiled back. The doctor called Pika in at 9pm. Wires got up and walked in with her. The doctor gave him a passing look, but allowed him into the room with her. The room was typical of a doctors office. It was small, sterile, and smelled strongly of alcohol and cleaning fluid. There was a jar of lollipops on the counter, and several diagrams of the hearts of various species on the walls. The doctor was a large lion, towering over the both of them. His blonde mane was tied into a bunch of tiny braids. "How are we today?" he said with a smile. Wires could almost count the teeth, but Pika seemed perfectly calm in front of him. In fact, she seemed even more catlike than ever, her tail moving in a slow sway. "So, what are we here for today, Ms...Pikapikahikaru?" "Pika. Pika is fine." Wires watched silently as the doctor pulled out a clipboard and started a barrage of questions. He checked Pika's heartbeat, nostrils, and throat. His brows furrowed, and he leaned over into a lower drawer, the braids flopping everywhere. A thermometer, a throat swab, a blood sugar test. All the while, the doctor looked more and more annoyed as he ticked items off of his chart. Eventually, he pulled the tongue depressor out of Pika's mouth and gave her the kind of helpless look that Wires hoped he would never see from a doctor. "Miss," said Dr. Savannah. "I honestly don't know what to tell you. Your chart says you came in for breathing problems, but all of your vitals look normal. I can tell you're dehydrated, but I can't get a conclusive result of your blood pressure or heart rate." "What does that mean?" "Well...it means I can't give you a reliable diagnosis. It says on your chart that you're a Royal. We aren't exactly equipped for your kind." "Of course you aren't." The doctor pursed his lips. "Well, I'll be honest. There aren't really the same kind of resources available for Royals. I can try to refer you to Hexengarten in Manhattan. What insurance do you have?" "None." "Ah. I'm not entirely sure what else I can do for you. Clinics that specialize in Royals tend to be expensive." "Can you find anything else?" "Well, I can't. But you can ask one of the receptionists out front. I'm sure they can work something out, or give you information on an affordable insurance plan." "Thanks..." "From the look of the slide I took of your throat, you might have a bacterial infection. I can prescribe you an aminopenicillin, and hopefully that will be enough." Pika nodded and slid off of the table, wobbling a bit as she waited for the doctor to finish writing his prescription. She didn't say anything, or even look back at Wires when she went out to the information desk. He stared at her back, her tail hanging dejectedly as she talked to the receptionist. He was suddenly overwhelmed by a profound sense of irritation and walked out of the door. Pika's ears didn't as much as flick when the bell on the door sounded. A bus and a train later, Wires was the sole customer in a small divey bar he'd never been in before. The heat was pumping on max, and he took his coat off as he went to sit at the counter. A five-lined skink in a tank top was running the bar alone, and flipped a tailtip in greeting. "An old-fashioned." The skink fixed an emotionless stare on him and awkwardly trailed a claw against the scales on her arm. "We don't really serve your kind here." "What." "No...no, you don't understand! I'm still in training, I don't know what you fluffy guys drink." "Uhm, alcohol." "Yeah, right. But how much do I give you? I mean--" "Can you vomit?" "Don't you?" "Yeah. Just give me something that wouldn't make you vomit." The skink cringed, or at least Wires thought she did, and start mixing his drink. For whatever reason, she gave him a poorly-cut slice of lime instead of a cherry, but he didn't have it in him to complain. He took a sip and almost gagged, the drink was way too strong. Over in the corner, a light started flickering. "Oh, I'll be right back." said the skink. She dissapeared into the back. Wires looked down into his drink, the cucumber slice sitting crookedly on the side. He took a deep breath and upturned it into his mouth. Two hours later, he found himself back on the bus. He ordered two more of the drinks, he remembered that. He remembered the expressionless face of the skink, and being politely asked to leave as a pair of iguanas walked in, the bar's regular clientele. Walking out was blurry. Getting to the bus stop was blurry. When he got back to the clinic, Pika was waiting for him in front of the door. Her paws were buried in her jacket. Her eyes and nose were watering. "You left me." she said. She didn't sound surprised, or even hurt. The matter-of-factness of him threw him off. "I wasn't going to just leave you here." he said, and for a second he believed the words himself, through the alcohol on his breath he knew she could smell. Pika smiled at him, a warm smile. "I know." she said, a little too cheerfully. She grabbed his paw, thin-boned and hard, and together they staggered back to the bus stop.