Arlo Ch.05

Thanks to my editor Naughty, she finished this at like two a.m. because I procrastinated and forgot about the deadline <3




Arlo scowled as he stepped into the house he once called home. The two words were almost always used interchangeably, but they were as different as night and day to Arlo. Jake stood behind him, in uniform. Arlo walked quickly to his room, and grabbed a suitcase. He quickly packed some clothes, and some personal items, before zipping up the red rolling suitcase, and returning to Jake in the living room. It was obvious Donovan hadn’t returned here since he beat Arlo for the last time. That was the promise Arlo had made himself when he had been checked out of the hospital. That was the last time.

“Are you ready?” Jake asked, his deep southern accent coming through. Arlo nodded quietly, and Jake led him gently out the door. Jake had kindly offered his couch to Arlo if he wanted it. Arlo wanted anything but to go back to that house. Jake had also promised to help him stay sober. Arlo still craved a drink like no other. But he knew from experience that it got better with time. Jake’s only rule was that if Arlo was going to stay with him, he had to see a therapist and go to an AA support group. He saw too many people give up in life because they could never get over the abuse they had suffered. He didn’t want to see that happen to Arlo. Arlo watched the buildings roll by as they drove in silence to Jake’s small house. He felt so much safer with Jake. More safe than he had ever felt with Donovan.

“I cleared out some drawers and closet space in my room. You can put your things in there. Just make yourself comfortable,” Jake said, shutting the door behind him. He watched as Arlo pulled the suitcase behind him with his one good arm. Donovan had broken the other one. Arlo’s eyes were rimmed with dark shadows from sleep deprivation, and the hangover that still lingered.

“Thank you,” Arlo replied, his voice rough and scratchy. Jake ordered pizza, and then helped Arlo unpack while they waited for the meal to be delivered. They had just finished when there was a knock on the door. Jake returned to the kitchen with two pizzas in hand. He gave them each a few pieces, before walking across the kitchen and pulling a bag of gummy worms out of the pantry. Arlo stared as he poured half the bag onto his pieces of pizza, and then offered him the bag. He gave a small smile and accepted the bag, sprinkling his own pizza with the other half.

Before he knew it, Arlo was laughing so hard tears fell down his face in large drops. Jake was pulled into the giggle fit with him, and soon they were both red from laughing. Jake held his sides, as the cramps from laughing too long began. Arlo stood up and tried to walk away, as if whatever was making him laugh so hard was hanging around that spot in a thick cloud. Finally, after several minutes, their laughing died down. Arlo stared at Jake, still smiling from their laughing fit, when suddenly the smile was wiped off his face and a worried look replaced it.

“Jake, I can’t have a relationship with you,” he said suddenly. Jake’s own smile faded away as he stared at Arlo.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Jake said.

“Oh...” Arlo mumbled. He looked down at the plate with the pizza and gummy worms.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Jake said quickly. “I think you need to take care of yourself before you can take care of a boyfriend,” he said, honestly. “You can’t afford to be hurt again, you need to protect yourself,” Jake said. Arlo looked up at him and nodded.

“But that’s not a never... right?” he asked.

Jake nodded. “It’s not a never.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Arlo sat quietly in Jake’s room on the bed. Jake often let him lie on the bed since it was more comfortable than the couch in the living room. Arlo had been given a few weeks off from work, and was taking the time to relax and settle back into a routine. He had made an appointment with a shrink, only a few days away. He had even gone to one AA meeting already. Jake had gone with him, to keep him company and support him. It was scary at first, going back to something he had hated so much only a few weeks ago. But once they got started, he felt himself relaxing and returning to normal. Jake had stood by him the whole time. Arlo felt the dull throb of love in his chest whenever he saw Jake, or thought about him too hard, but he knew that Jake was right. He needed to take care of himself.

So here he sat. Taking some ‘me time’ for himself and enjoying a book in the brightly lit room. The sun poured in from the large windows, making the room seem bright and cheery. Arlo didn’t just sit in here because the bed was comfortable. It smelled like Jake. The natural scent of the bigger man relaxed him and kept bad thoughts from his mind.

“Arlo?” Jake called out.

“In here,” he returned, dog earing the page for later. He smiled.

“Hey, did you get some rest?” Jake asked, already taking off his uniform.

“Yeah, a little. I feel better,” Arlo said. He knew Jake worried about him. He also knew that the southerner would wake up in the middle of the night just to check on him. He was always awake, but he pretended to be asleep so that he would relax. Jake’s eyes were starting to take on the dark rings that Arlo had. Jake kicked off his shoes and looked awkward as he took off his tie. Arlo scooted over, taking half the bed. Jake hesitated, before crawling into bed next to him. He sighed as his head hit the pillow, and Arlo could tell he was already drifting off. Before he could say anything, Jake was snoring. Arlo looked at the clock, it was only six. Jake would wake up in an hour or two and be hungry. Jake didn’t make him pay any rent, and he bought all the groceries. The least he could do was cook him dinner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arlo smiled as Jake stumbled out of his bedroom, sniffing the air like a hungry dog. His eyes were barely open, but he grunted when he saw Arlo placing the pan of baked Macaroni on the table.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he grunted.

“You fell asleep, and I’m sure it’s been awhile since you had a homecooked meal. Besides, I always liked to cook,” Arlo smiled, and set down two plates with forks and glasses of water.

“Well... thank you,” he grunted again, sleep finally starting to clear from his face.

“Sure,” Arlo smiled. They sat down, and began eating. “So, how was work? I didn’t get to ask you before you fell asleep,” Arlo chuckled.

“It was okay, busy. Sorry I feel asleep,” Jake said, returning to normal now that he was awake and eating.

“That’s alright, you haven’t been sleeping well,” Arlo said.

“Neither have you,” Jake raised an eyebrow. Arlo laughed dryly.

“You shouldn’t worry about me so much. You need your sleep, you work so much...” Arlo said. It felt weird, almost like he was back with Donovan. Except that Jake could never be like Donovan...

“I have every right to worry about you. You don’t sleep and when you do, you have nightmares,” Jake said, brow furrowed with worry.

“They’ll go away...” Arlo whispered. He had dealt with a few patients that had suffered from abuse. He never imagined himself like that. He wondered if he looked as lifeless as they always did.

“But until then, just let me worry. Since I can’t seem to do much else,” he mumbled the last part.

“You’ve done more than enough. You’ve given me a place to stay. Somewhere I can feel safe,” Arlo said. Jake slammed his fist on the table suddenly.

“I should have known!” he shouted out of nowhere. Arlo flinched. Jake dropped his head and sighed. He placed a large hand on Arlo’s small delicate ones. “I’m sorry....” he said, as Arlo relaxed. “I just feel so guilty. I’m a cop for Christ’s sake. I should have seen the signs! I see people like you every day and I know how to tell. I was just blind and stupid. I just didn’t want to believe that you could... that he would... that......” Jake finally gave up and sighed, putting his head in his hands. Arlo could tell he was fighting back tears. He put his other hand on top of Jakes.

“You did more than enough, Jake. This was happening long before you came along and there were a million opportunities where I could have gotten help. But I chose not to. I chose to believe that he could change when he couldn’t,” Arlo said. Jake inhaled deeply before sighing. He nodded. “Please don’t feel guilty,” Arlo said. Jake looked up and smiled at him, before returning to his food. He cleared his throat before speaking.

“I invited my mother to stay with us for a week or so. I worry about leaving you alone during the day,” Jake said.

“Your mother?” Arlo bit his lip. He had never met anyone’s mother before. At least not anyone he had dated.

“Yeah, she’s really sweet. You’ll love her,” Jake said. “It will be nice to have her around.” Jake smiled a little.

“Okay... thank you,” Arlo smiled. Jake grunted a ‘you’re welcome’ before shoving another bite of food into his mouth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Oh, aren’t you just the cutest thing!” The woman reminded Arlo of Paula Deen. Her gray hair fell in curls and waves around her face, making her seem larger than she was. She smelled of perfume and dish soap. Her wide smile was filled with perfect white teeth, and her resemblance of Jake was almost scary. She pulled Arlo into a big hug, shoving his cheek into her breast. The woman was easily half a foot taller than Arlo. He felt like a midget.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ma’am,” he said. Her southern accent was even thicker than Jake’s when she said.

“Nice to meet you? Nice to meet you? Darlin’ the pleasure is mine! Jacob has told me so much about you! You’re just the sweetest little puddin’ cup I’ve ever done seen!” she said, pulling him into the kitchen by his waist. “My goodness, Jacob. If you don’t hold on to this one, I’m going to take him home myself!” She smiled as she opened the fridge. Her smile was suddenly lost when she stood there for a moment. “Jacob Ivory Hudson, you call yourself a homegrown southern boy and you don’t have a drop of fresh squeezed lemonade in this house? Shame on you!” she wagged her finger. Jake blushed and tried to hide his head in his broad shoulders.

“Sorry, Mama,” he apologized. Arlo looked at him.

“Jacob Ivory?” he giggled a little.

“Shut up, Doc,” Jake poked out his bottom lip in a pout.

“You be nice to this sweet young boy,” the older woman frowned at her son.

“Yes, Mama,” Jake replied, his southern accent coming out.

“I swear boy...” she mumbled, shaking her head at her son before turning her attention to Arlo. “Jacob here told me you like to cook. I think we’re going to have fun together,” she smiled and winked.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Arlo nodded.

“Now drop that ‘Ma’am’ nonsense. You can call me Mama.” She smiled and kissed Arlo’s forehead, making him blush harder than he had ever blushed before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arlo woke up early in the morning to the sound of Mama singing. Her voice was slightly off key, and she missed some of the words, but it still made Arlo smile. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, which Jake had moved him into when he left for work, and stumbled out into the living room wearing only some sleeping pants. He rubbed his brown and blonde streaked hair as he stepped into the kitchen where Mama had put a plate of pancakes down for him. He smiled and sat down.

“Eat up, Hon. We got stuff to do today!” she said, in her loud southern drawl. Arlo did as he was told, and devoured the heavy stack of pancakes in a few minutes. “Well goodness, Puddin’ Cup. You don’t waste any time do ya’?” she chuckled, and wiped her wet hands on her apron. Arlo shook his head with a mouthful of pancake and a smile. “Well, good. We got lots to do and little time to do it,” she said, and took the apron off, hanging it from a chair. Arlo swallowed.

“Like what, Ma’am?” Arlo asked, and ducked his head with a blush when she glared. “Mama.” he mumbled. She nodded with a smile when he corrected himself.

“You’re in for a real treat today,” she winked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arlo cried as he stepped through the door, Mama not far behind him. He wiped the tears away as his laughing finally stopped. It had been so long since he had laughed this much. He loved staying here. They had spent half the day jumping from store to store loading up on God knows how many baking goods, and now they were ready for the real fun part. Mama sent him to go wash his hands as she slipped her apron back on. He returned shortly, ready to start the mayhem.

“Here you go, Honey Bunny. You can wear Jacobs old apron, from when he used to help me bake as a little boy,” she smiled.

“Jake used to bake?” Arlo couldn’t help the laugh that spewed forward.

“Oh, he sure did,” she smiled and handed him the plain apron covered in dinosaurs. It hardly covered anything but the first half of his chest, but he didn’t mind.

They began with a cake. It was just a simple yellow cake with chocolate frosting, homemade, but as soon as he began mixing the bowl of batter with a large wooden spoon, he felt his muscles relax and his mind empty of all the thoughts that had been constantly fighting through. He couldn’t help but sigh a little.

“Feeling better?” Mama asked, Arlo looked up, raising an eyebrow.

“Hm?” He turned back to the bowl at hand.

“Jacob hasn’t told me any details about why you’re staying here, but I do know that you went through something pretty rough, didn’t you Puddin’ Cup?” She asked, in her peaceful southern drawl. Without looking up, Arlo nodded. “Mmhmmm.” She nodded with him. “This world can be a cruel place, honey. But nothing can make it seem alright like baking can,” she winked, and handed him another bowl with the thick frosting in it. He continued to mix it while she poured in some more chocolate.

“Jake has been so nice, letting me stay here. I just feel like I’m a burden to him,” Arlo whispered.

“Believe me, honey, you’re anything but a burden. You’re not the only one who’s been through some rough times. Jacob is a sweetheart deep down, but the trick is getting deep enough to see it. He’s been hurt a few too many times,” she said, sadly.

“Hurt how?” Arlo asked.

“That’s not my story to tell, honey.” She looked over with a smile, before returning to the work at hand. “So what about your mother? Where’s she hidin’?” Mama drawled.

“She’s not really in the picture,” Arlo said sadly.

“What? Now who in the world would leave an adorable little snowflake like yourself all alone?” She put her flour covered hands on her hips.

“I don’t know. My dad always told me she left and never came back. No warning... no goodbye. I was six when she left,” Arlo said.

“Oh, Puddin’ Cup, I’m so sorry.” Mama patted his back, leaving a flour shaped hand print.

“It’s alright. I don’t really remember her all that well,” Arlo shrugged.

“What about your father?” Mama asked.

“He died a few years ago of cancer,” Arlo said. Mama frowned.

“You poor dear, well now you’ve got me. You hear that, Honey Bun?” she said.

“Yes, Mama.” Arlo smiled and tried to stop tears from falling when she hugged him to her chest again. He didn’t succeed. He tried to wipe away the tear before she saw it.

“Oh honey, you really have been hurt, haven’t ya?” she frowned. Arlo couldn’t stop it now, and let the tears fall. He sobbed and nodded as she held him. After a few minutes of crying and shushing, she pulled his head away from her tear stained dress. “You know what will ease the hurt? If only for a little while?” she asked. Arlo shook his head as he wiped away the tears. She smiled warmly, “cupcakes.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jake loved having his Mama around. The house was warm and felt alive and was filled with music when she was here. He tried to make it just as exciting when it was just him and Arlo but it never worked. It had been a long day at work and he was glad to return home. He could hear the music from halfway down the walkway. He rolled his eyes as he opened the door.  The music doubled in volume as it flowed directly into his ears, the door no longer a barrier.

“What the-” Jake nearly swore in front of his mother when he stepped into the kitchen. Almost every surface was covered with some sort of mix, or flour, or batter, or frosting. Arlo stood in the middle of the kitchen with his mother, wearing his childhood apron. His hair was matted with some sort of dough, and there were smudges of frosting on his nose and cheek. The tiny apron he wore was covered with flour and he was holding a pastry bag in his hands, decorating cupcakes with Mama.

“Jake!” Arlo smiled and greeted him. “Hi, how was work?” He laughed, as a glob of frosting fell off the poor cupcake who had the unfortunate experience of crossing paths with ‘Arlo the baker’.

“It was good... do I want to know what you guys have done with my kitchen?” he laughed.

“We made lemonade.” Arlo took a sip of the bright liquid in the glass.

“And cookies!” Mama smiled as she pulled out a tray of sugar cookies in the shape of little men.

“I see,” Jake laughed.

“We already made the first batch, I kind of dedicated them to you.” Arlo moved so Jake could see the little sugar cookie men, decorated in blue frosting, with a yellow star on their chest, and a smudge of black here and there.

“What is it?” Jake laughed, Arlo pouted.

“They’re little policemen,” he looked down at his franken-cookie.

“I see...” Jake laughed. Arlo scowled and playfully squirted frosting at him. “Hey now!” Jake said, laughing as he dodged the sugar substance. He managed to avoid the rest of the sweets that Arlo threw, but didn’t see his mother coming with the bowl of apple pie filling. She poured the goo onto his head. He couldn’t help but laugh as the sweet mush dripped down his face. He stuck his tongue out and swallowed a glob of the sugary substance. “Is there anything you guys haven’t made?” Jake asked.

“Nope, just about everything,” Arlo confessed, looking around at the kitchen filled with three cakes, four sheets of cookies, two plates of crepes, four pies, two pitchers of lemonade, and God knows how many cupcakes.

“Oh... alright then,” Jake couldn’t help but look a little disappointed.

“Nonsense! There’s always more to bake!” his mother shouted, and cranked the oven up to 375 as Jake practically skipped into the kitchen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arlo was startled awake suddenly. He searched the dark living room frantically, and sighed when he saw that Donovan wasn’t here. He had been having these terrible nightmares ever since he had left the home he shared with Donovan. He only got a few hours of sleep a night, and the few he managed to grab were filled with terrible dreams. He heard a small sound and jumped, sitting up on the couch. Inside he knew it was nothing. That he was just being childish. He knew it was probably a branch scraping the window outside, or the house creaking like houses do. But outside, he was terrified.

Before he realized it, he was standing in Jake’s doorway. The bigger cop was sleeping on the floor, Mama taking the bed, and hadn’t even stirred when Arlo had awoken. He stared at him a moment longer, and glanced over his shoulder. He seriously considered asking to crawl in with him, but cursed at himself. What was he, four? He turned to go hide under the covers back on his couch, when Jake stirred.

“Huh? Whazzit? Arlo? Is everything alright?” he sat up suddenly, looking around.

“Oh... sorry. Yeah I’m okay. I’m sorry I woke you up,” Arlo apologized.

“No no, it’s fine. Are you okay? What’s wrong?” he asked, groggily.

“Nothing... I just got a little scared... I’m okay,” Arlo tried to crawl back to the couch, with his tail between his legs.

“Do you want to crawl in with me?” Jake asked, without hesitation. Arlo paused, his back to Jake. He bit his lip before turning around and nodding. Jake tossed back the blankets, and Arlo crawled in.

“Thank you...” he whispered.

“It’s fine. Maybe you’ll sleep better with somebody here,” he whispered. Arlo listened to Jake’s steady breathing as he began to fall back to sleep. He let his head rest against Jake’s back, listening to the loud throb of his heart. In no time, he was sound asleep. For the first time in weeks, he didn’t have a nightmare.

Of Mice and Men Ch.01

NEW STORY!! YAY!

So he's my new story, it's a spin off of Wings of Gray/Things Change. If you haven't read the stories before, I suppose you could still read this one, but you might want to go back and freshen up on your Alex/Mike Mike/Anthony knowledge.

Also, another fun announcement, introducing my new sexy bitch of an editor: Naughtycouture! Because I'm lazy, I'll just call her Naughty ;) She's by far the best editor I've had so far (If you're reading this GBC, stop being MIA >:O) She's crazy fast, and helpful, plus she entertains me and that's most important as we all know. So everyone give a big thanks to her for making me suck less :D

P.S. I've been meaning to say this but I keep forgetting. I've heard your complaints that the follow by email thingy isn't working, and after poking around I have absolutly no solution, but I do know that others are having this problem and we're trying to find out more about it, but it's not going well. I'm trying to come up with a way to help those who use the follow by email, but I can't think of anything without having some giant email list I gotta send an email to whenever I post. I'll keep you all posted.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Get out!" Chris shouted.

"Chris, please. Just give me another chance," Ethan begged.

"No. Get out. I don't want you here anymore. I've tried to help you, but you've made it obvious you can't be changed. Mike was right about you,” Chris shook his head, in tears.

Ethan had tried his best to accept Anthony, and his differences, but he couldn't help his hatred for the infected. He didn't know where it came from, but it was there. Mike glared at him as Anthony held onto his side.

They had been having dinner when Mike had brought up Alex. For some reason it sparked an old hatred for the mutants. He had gotten emotional and Anthony tried to comfort him. Ethan glared at the cat’s paw on Mike’s shoulder. His fingers were tipped with claws, and his tail swished back and forth gently. Ethan found himself watching Anthony’s tail a lot. It just made him so angry. After that night, almost a month ago, he found himself falling back into his old way of thinking. He knew it would hurt Chris if he ever found out what Ethan was thinking, so he tried to hide it, tried to keep it bottled up. But that only made it worse. Now, a month later, things had reached their boiling point.

He didn’t know what set him off. Why it was tonight, and not any other night they had spent together. Because they were all such close friends, Ethan found himself alone with Anthony a lot. Sometimes Chris would be in the bathroom, and Mike would be out getting some beer, or something. He and Anthony would be alone. It was always kind of awkward, but they worked through it. But tonight had been different. Anthony was in a happy mood and was trying to spark up a conversation between him and Ethan, but Ethan didn’t feel much like talking.

“So how are things with Chris. I have to admit, you guys are really cute together,” Anthony smiled.

“Thanks,” Ethan mumbled.

“His birthday is coming up, right? Have any plans? Mike and I were thinking of throwing a surprise party for him,” Anthony said.

“I hadn’t thought about it yet,” Ethan said, not really participating in the one sided conversation. Anthony stared at him a moment, before trying again.

“Maybe we could go to a theme park or something. Six flags or Disneyland,” Anthony smiled.

“That could be fun,” Ethan said, not really interested.

“Ethan... is something wrong? I know we’re not exactly close, but you seem a little off lately,” Anthony said.

“No nothing is wrong,” Ethan shook his head, lying.

“Are you sure? I just think you seem kind of-” Anthony was silenced when Ethan hit him, sending him flying onto his back.

“You don’t know me you fucking infected piece of shit!” Ethan shouted suddenly. He didn’t know where the blind fury had come from, but it completely filled his mind. He couldn’t think about anything other than the creature that was so worthless in front of him. Anthony blocked his face as Ethan crawled on top of him, drawing his fist back. He punched him again, but before he could swing a third time, he was pulled off a bloody Anthony.

“What the fuck!?” Mike shouted. He had Ethan by the waist and threw him onto Mike’s bed. Chris knelt by Anthony, who had crawled over to the opposite wall. He held his nose, which gushed blood and Chris tried to stop the bleeding with a towel he had grabbed from the floor.

“Ethan, what the hell are you doing?!” Chris shouted, looking up from Anthony for only a second. Ethan’s vision was beginning to clear, and it was like a red haze had been lifted from his mind. It took him a moment to realize what he had done.

“What the fuck happened?!” Mike shouted, resisting the urge to help Anthony. He was more concerned with keeping Ethan far away from his beloved.

“I- I don’t know we were talking... ow!” Anthony hissed, as Chris pressed on his nose.

“Mike, I think it’s broken,” Chris said. Anthony was crying softly, in the arms of his friend.

“I’m going to kill you, you piece of shit,” Mike swore, before moving to Anthony’s side. He rubbed his shoulders soothingly, before trying to help Anthony up.

“Chris...” Ethan stood from where he had been thrown on the bed.

“Get out!” Chris shouted.

"Chris, please. Just give me another chance," Ethan begged.

"No. Get out. I don't want you here anymore. I've tried to help you, but you've made it obvious you can't be changed. Mike was right about you,” Chris shook his head, in tears. Mike glared at Ethan as they helped Anthony out of the dorms. Mike grabbed his keys.

“Come on, we need to get him to the E.R,” Mike said. Chris nodded, and they left. Ethan was left alone. He cursed and kicked the leg of the bed. His leaned against the wall and sighed. He had ruined it. He loved Chris, he really did. He just couldn’t take the panther anymore. The cat had worn on his last nerve.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ethan stormed through the campus, angry as ever. Chris wouldn’t answer his calls or texts, neither would Mike. It had been a few hours and Ethan didn’t know what he would do. He couldn’t go home, he didn’t want to face Chris. Not after what he had done.

‘He’s kicked me out of my own Goddamn home!’ Ethan thought to himself. ‘He’ll defend that stupid fuck of a cat until the end. He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve Chris’s love!’ his mind screamed. His hands were shoved in his pocket and he frowned when his fingers hit something cold. He wrapped his hand around it and brought it out into the street light. It was his small pocket knife, shining in the light. The red haze began to return to his vision, cutting off any sense of reason or logical thought. He just needed to make somebody hurt.

The boy had small horns on top of his head, curved back and around his ears like a ram. His legs were reversed and ended in black hooves that clicked loudly on the ground. He had lost track of time in the art studio and was heading back to his dorm. It was cold out that night, and it made his small tail twitch nervously. The night made him even more nervous. The campus wasn’t exactly the most peaceful one out there, and he knew he should be careful. He tried to take the most lighted path, directly through the campus. His hooves echoed and he didn’t like the sound, it made him feel alone. He smiled when he saw a figure walking ahead of him. It meant he wasn’t alone.

He quickened his pace, happy to see another person, even if he was heading the opposite way. The mans hands were shoved in the pockets of his jacket and he walked quickly, as if he had somewhere important to be. The ram hybrid slowly began loosing his smile as he got an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He swallowed and looked around at the empty campus around him. Far away you could hear the heavy music of a party, but other than that the night was still. He shook his head, it was just a man who was cold and was in a hurry to get warm. There was no reason to be afraid. He often found himself thinking the worst of people when he was alone at night, and crossed paths with a stranger. It was just a stupid thing he did, tricking himself into thinking he was in danger.

He smiled a little as he passed the man, who kept his head down as he walked past the infected. He shook his head and rolled his eyes.

‘See, you freak yourself out over nothing!’ he laughed at himself. His internal laugh was cut short when he felt a sharp pain in his back. He cried out, before falling to the ground. He was flipped over, and as he took his last breath he watched as the killer plunged the small pocket knife into his stomach, again and again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I would love nothing more than to sentence you to a few years in prison, Mr. Khan,” the judge said, addressing Ethan. “I don’t think that will help you all that much. You seem to have a history of prejudice against the infected,” the judge stated. “I want to see if we can do something about that.”

“Like what, Your Honor?” Ethan asked.

“You’re going to spend the next six months doing court appointed volunteer work at a facility that was created to care for infected citizens,” the judge replied. Ethan swallowed, how could this idiot actually think that was a good idea?

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Ethan’s lawyer said. Ethan glared at him as he began packing his briefcase.

“‘Thank you, Your Honor’ is all you have?” Ethan swore at him.

“Hey, kid. You’re lucky you’re not in jail, that infected kid almost died,” His lawyer returned. It was true, the poor ram hybrid he had stabbed was in the ICU. Ethan cursed as he left the courthouse. How was he supposed to spend the next six months in a big building with a bunch of infected scum running around?

~~~~~~~~~~~
Ethan stared up at the tall gray building. It looked like someone had taken some plain apartment buildings that should have been torn down a long time ago, and slapped on some new gray paint. It looked hopeless and desolate. The inside was only a little better. The walls were a dull beige, and a few pictures hung from the walls. But all that was in the lobby was a desk, three chairs, and a plastic plant in the corner.

“Hello, can I help you?” the blonde woman at the front asked him.

“Uh. I’m Ethan, the court appointed worker. This is my first day here,” he mumbled.

“Oh! Okay!” she said, showing her bubbly self. She grabbed a stack of papers and set them down. “I just need you to sign these and then we’re good to go!” she said. He quickly signed the papers, and then she walked out from behind the desk and headed down the hall. “Come on!” her high voice called out to him. He followed her lazily, just looking around the blank walls.

“My name’s Trish. I’m usually the one at the front desk, if I’m not there then it’s Aaron. He’s a really nice guy.” she smiled. Ethan gave a fake smile back and then rolled his eyes once she turned back around to watch where she was walking.

“So what exactly am I doing here? Moping floors or something...?” he grumbled.

“Oh no! Of course not!” she answered. “This program was started to help people who have been infected and don’t have anywhere else to go. A lot of times, families were killed in the camps. Or the infected were so badly disabled they couldn’t live on their own anymore. With no one else taking them in, that’s what we do! Those who can afford it pay rent, those who can't... well... they don’t,” she shrugged. “It’s a rough program, and we don’t have a lot of money, but we do what we can. What we really need is people to go in and talk to them. A lot of them get lonely and just need a friend. Sometimes that’s all they really need,” she smiled.

“Oh...” Ethan mumbled.

“So. What we’re going to do is set you up with a list of guests that you go and visit when you come here. You spend your time here with them and just keep them company,” he smiled.

“Oh...” Ethan repeated.

“Some of them are a little grumpy, but...” she leaned in and whispered “I tried to give you the nice ones.” She winked, and handed him a piece of paper. “Here are your guests. You spend as much time with them as you want, you just need to spend at least a half hour with each person, and then you’re free to leave,” she instructed.

“Okay,” Ethan said. He felt like he was just being thrown into this. He wondered if anyone had ever actually thought about what they were doing. Sending a guy who clearly hates infected to a place where he would be surrounded by them? Who’s idea was that?

“Here’s your first guest,” she said, stopping in front of an apartment. “Her name is Mrs. Fortune. She’s on the older side and she really just likes to talk to someone. She gets lonely. So just listen and let her do what she wants. If she falls asleep before the half hour is over, you can just leave,” Trish said, and left. Ethan stared at the door, before sighing and going inside.

The room was dark. Only one lamp was on in the back corner of the apartment. An older woman sat in an overstuffed armchair, knitting. The entire thing seemed very stereotypical. She was in a plain flowered dress, and there were hand-made doilies and couch throws and pillow covers everywhere. It smelled like Ethan’s grandmothers house. Mothballs and perfume.

“Hello?” Ethan called out to the woman.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you to knock, deary?” the old woman said, a strange after tone in her voice.

“Oh... sorry,” Ethan shut the door and apologized. Given the situation, it didn’t even occur to him to knock.

“Well, that’s alright, I suppose. Just don’t forget again,” she scolded him, and then turned on another light. The old woman had the unfortunate luck to be hybridized with the exact opposite of what an old woman would be. Black feathers hung from her arms, and she had a fairly large feathered tail. When she stood up, and walked toward the kitchen, was when Ethan noticed large black talons where feet should be. She looked unbalanced and awkward. Ethan wondered, for a moment, how she had survived the transformation. He felt guilty, thinking about the how the old woman should have died, but a little bit of that guilt was washed away when she squawked and shook the feathers on her long vulture neck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ethan was bored to tears. He was beginning to get dizzy from the smell of the woman’s heavy perfume, as well as getting itchy from the feathers that had landed almost everywhere. The entire place looked like a bird’s cage. It didn’t smell too far off from one either. The old woman, Mrs.Fortune, had spent the past twenty minutes talking about her son. After that, she spoke about knitting, and crocheting, and stitching, and sewing, and the different types of yarn, and needles, and threads, and everything else under the sun. Ethan thought he was going to kill himself.

“Well, sorry, Mrs. Fortune, but our half hour is up.” Ethan stood up, grabbing his jacket, which he had taken off since the small apartment was about 112 degrees.

“R-really? Oh my, that went by so fast!” Mrs. Fortune mumbled, looking at the large cuckoo clock that hung from the wall.

“Yeah it did, well I guess I’ll see you next week.” Ethan headed for the door, trying not to run.

“What? But you come in every day!” she exclaimed, cheerily. Ethan stared at the door with shock before turning around.

“W... what?” he stuttered.

“Nobody told you, dear? Why, yes! You come visit us everyday!” She smiled, oblivious to the horror that Ethan was feeling.

“Every... everyday,” he sighed and fell against the door. “Uh... right. I’ll see you... tomorrow,” he mumbled, and left.
~~~~~~~~~~~
“Hi!” Trish greeted him at the lobby. “How did you like Mrs. Fortune?”

“I have to come here every day!?” Ethan shouted.

“Oh... yes... I-I assumed the judge told you,” she mumbled.

“He told me I had to come for six months! I didn’t realize he meant every day for six months!” Ethan sighed and sat in a chair.

“I know it probably takes a little while to get used to... but you will. I promise, some of them can be really nice.” Trish walked around the desk to sit with him. After a moment of silence passed, she spoke up. “May I ask you about something?” she said quietly.

“Sure, what?” Ethan looked up from where he had let his head fall into his hands.

“Why did you hurt those boys? The infected ones. What did they do to you?” she asked. Ethan stared at her before answering.

“I don’t know. I just get so angry. I see them and I’m just so mad I can’t think. I just... I hate them so much,” he said quietly.

“I don’t understand,” she said. A small silenced passed between them before Ethan spoke.

“I don’t either,” he whispered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Ethan spoke with Trish, he had to move on to his next room. The room belonged to a young woman who had been in the infected camps as a child. She would have been the same age as Alex if he were still alive.

Ethan knocked softly, hoping she was asleep or something, but when a soft ‘Yes?’ floated through the wooden door, he sighed and pushed it open.

“Mackenzie? Uh... I’m Ethan,” he introduced himself.

“Oh, hi! Trish told me you were coming,” she stood up. Her hands were covered in sandy blonde fur, and it ran all the way up her arms and down below the neckline of her shirt. When she stood to greet Ethan he saw the sandy colored fur continued past her stomach and into the waist line of her jeans. Her face was now pushed out into a long snout. Her ears, also covered in sandy fur, hung down past her jaw and flopped in the air when she moved. Behind her, from a hole cut into the back of her jeans, was a thick wagging tail. She was a lab. Ethan had always liked dogs. But the most obvious thing about her, was that she was completely blind. Around her head, was a blindfold. The black cloth was wrapped tightly around her head so it wouldn’t slip, but was loose enough so that it would be comfortable.

“Hi.” He shook her hand when she held it out, trying not to cringe at the paw in front of him. She smiled, before making her way back to the seat on the couch she had occupied.

“So, tell me about yourself,” she smiled.

“Uh. Like what?” Ethan asked.

“Why did you decide to volunteer here?” she turned her head slightly. Ethan swallowed.

“They didn’t tell you?” he frowned.

“No. They just said someone new was working here,” she shook her head, curious still.

“Oh... I’m a court appointed worker,” he replied.

“I see...” she said, the question lying just under the two words, but not coming to the surface.

“I’m here for attempted murder,” Ethan said.

“Oh my... seems like an odd punishment,” she said.

“It was a hate crime against an infected. I have a bit of a history...” Ethan wished he could see her eyes. Ethan counted to himself, it was now three hate crimes against infected. All in a couple of years. Of course he wasn’t directly linked to Alex, but he didn’t do anything to stop it. So he counted that against himself.

“I understand... well, you answered my questions, so why don’t I answer some of yours?” she asked.

“What’s with the blindfold?” Ethan asked bluntly.

“I was in the camps when people first started getting sick. I lost both of my eyes there,” she said. “I wear this because it’s comfortable, and it helps to not creep people out.”

“Oh...” Ethan said. The conversation was forced and awkward for a while, but eventually they both began loosening up, and soon Ethan found he was forgetting she was even infected, until she got up to get a glass of water, and he saw the slowly wagging tail following her. Alone in the living room of the small apartment, he felt his anger begin to boil forward. His vision blurred as he felt the incredible rage fill him. It was unexplained and without cause, but it was definitely there. Mackenzie walked back out with the two glasses of water, and set them down on a table next to the couch before sitting down.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

“No. Just a little warm,” Ethan lied. How would it look to the judge if he couldn’t even handle a visit alone with an infected for half an hour? He looked at the clock, it had been twenty minutes.

‘I’m not going to jail’ Ethan thought to himself, watching the slowly ticking hands of the clock. He watched Mackenzie’s mouth as she continued to talk about what they had been chatting about before. He couldn’t remember what it was, it seemed so stupid now, whatever it was. Ethan’s breath quickened as Mackenzie spoke. The drops of water rolled down the glass slowly, hitting the wooden table and lying there. The water looked so good, but he didn’t want it. He didn’t know why he didn’t want it, but he really didn’t. Mackenzie’s dog-like lips moved as she laughed, her voice had long since faded away to Ethan. Now the only sounds were the ticking clock, and the dripping glass of water. In the back of his mind, Ethan knew the water didn’t make any sound, but in his head it sounded like a waterfall.

He snapped out of his trance when the clock chimed once, signalling the half hour mark. He stood faster than he should have, and turned to leave.

“Oh... I guess our time is...” Mackenzie was interrupted when Ethan slammed the door, “... up.”

~~~~~~~~~~~
“How many more do I have?” Ethan asked, after he had finished the fourth infected.

“Just one more, he’s a real sweet one, very shy.” Trish giggled, dropping her voice to a whisper she added, “don’t tell the others, but he’s my favorite.” She winked.

“Right,” Ethan said. He had a throbbing headache and several knots in his neck and back from the stress of being around so many people he hated. The migraine seemed to worsen every time Trish laughed, which was about ever three words. “Who’s next?” he asked, just wanting to get this over with so he could go home and crawl into bed.

“Carey,” she smiled.

“Carey? I thought you said it was a guy,” Ethan frowned when she handed him the room key.

“He is a guy,” Trish frowned. “It’s a unisex name,” she stuck her nose up and returned to her computer. When Ethan was beginning to walk away, she called out. “Ethan!” He turned around with a roll of his large green eyes. “If you hurt him, jail won't be your biggest problem, k?” She laughed and winked, returning to work. Ethan raised an eyebrow, before heading towards the last room of the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He knocked on the door, and at first he thought there wasn’t an answer, but when he waited a second too long, he heard a very soft “You can come in...”

He opened the door and looked inside the dimly lit apartment. After visiting the five infected rooms, he noticed that was one thing they all had in common. They all liked it dark. He stepped inside and for a long time he didn’t see anything, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust and then he saw the figure in the corner.

The man stood in the corner, nervously playing with something in his hands. He was fairly short, even across the room Ethan could see that the man was probably only 5’ 4”, give or take an inch. He was thin, whatever he was wearing clung to his lean body, showing off all of his small frame. In the pitch black of the room, Ethan thought he could make out a white long sleeve shirt, and some jeans. He didn’t look like he was wearing shoes, only socks. The man had one foot on top of the other, moving his toes nervously. He lifted his right foot and used the top of his foot to scratch his left calf. He coughed nervously.

“Sorry, I’ll turn a light on, I bet it’s pretty dark in here, huh?” he said, his voice very quiet and delicate. Ethan could hardly hear him. The man moved quickly, darting across the room to a wall. Ethan nearly lost sight of him, he moved so fast. There was a soft ‘click’ as the lights were turned on so that a normal person could see. The man had his back to Ethan and now he could see that he wasn’t actually wearing a shirt. What he thought was a white shirt before, was actually a fair amount of white fur. The fur danced down his back, and moved all the way around to the front of his body, stopping just past his sides, leaving most of his chest and stomach with only pale skin. The fur continued down his arms, stopping just at his knuckles, leaving his palms bare.

Ethan had been right about the pants. He wore a pair of blue jeans that hugged his small slender hips tightly. Even the small pants didn’t fit him and he was forced to wear a belt. But again, Ethan found himself wrong about another aspect of the man’s appearance. Covering his feet was more white fur, not socks. Sticking out from the back of the small blue jeans, was a long, long, tail. He held his tail nervously in his left hand, while his right still remained on the switch. Ethan swallowed when he saw the unusual sharp claws that decorated his fingertips. The man turned to face Ethan, who shivered at the sight of his beady black eyes, and the many long whiskers that protruded from just under his nose. Large round ears were pressed back against his head, a hint of fear and nervousness was given away by their placement.

“Hi, you must be Ethan,” his soft voice said again. Ethan almost couldn’t believe how soft and delicate his voice was. He wondered if he had always been that soft spoken, or if it was new with the change.

“Yeah,” Ethan mumbled. “Carey, right?” he asked. The mouse hybrid nodded, his ears wiggling a little bit with the jerky movement. He walked over to a couch that sat nearby, and sat down. Ethan was weirded out by how little sound his tiny feet made on the hardwood floors of the small apartment.

“Yeah... you can sit anywhere,” he replied in his soft voice. He held his tail nervously, but his round ears were now up and on alert. Ethan sat down and stared at the mouse, the anger starting to bubble up from nowhere. Carey was the one to start the conversation between them. As the half hour got further and further along, Ethan was suddenly aware of how calm he felt. The small bubble of anger had vanished and Ethan found himself only a little uneasy. It was as if Carey had some calming affect on him. He didn’t know what it was, and he didn’t particularly care what it was. All he knew was that it was nice to have a break from the rage.