silenttrainbaby | Our dried voices / when We whisper together / Are quiet and meaningless

He was being followed. Every time, though, that Grey turned around, there was no one there, or someone simply passing along the street, not following, not threatening, not even bothering with the strange, silent boy in the scrubs and cast.

When he stopped, ducking around a corner, he waited, finally sneaking a peek where he'd come from.

That was when he saw it. A sad, battered looking thing who went still at being watched, scrunched against the wall. What was that? Slowly, Grey crouched down, staring at it, the creature looking right back at him.

It was missing an eye, it was dirty and had clearly been in more than one fight. As weird as it sounded, the thing made Grey feel something in his chest - a tight warmth. From his pocket, he pulled a small packet of cheese and bread he'd brought and he pulled off a bit, holding it out.

For a long time, the creature didn't move, his nose flaring. Then, when Grey stayed very still, he came forward, sniffing at the food, then quickly snatching it, skittering away to eat it. The boy took a bite, too, leaning his back against a building as he shared his small meal with his new friend in bits and scraps.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

plaguedrat

He's just walking, still too used to skulking along in the shadows, walking with almost silent movement. Moving along the height of a fence, dropping down near Grey to see what he's doing.

"Scrappy little bastard, isn't it?"

From:

silenttrainbaby

The creature skittered away at the new boy and Grey scowled, sending Rat a dirty look.

He turns to the thing, holding out a morsel of cheese, waiting for the little one-eyed thing to come back.

From:

plaguedrat

Rat sits quietly, looking at the creature. It's been through hell and needs medical equipment, that much is certain. So he sits down quietly next to Grey, watching as he hunts his pockets for food.

From:

silenttrainbaby

Slowly, really slowly, the thing comes back and takes the bit of cheese, scampering back to a safe distance to chew; he growls as he chews.

For some reason, Grey would be upset if this thing left.

From:

plaguedrat

Carefully, Rat unwinds the cloth he wears as a scarf, piling it on the ground a few feet in font of him, a warmer and softer surface than the asphalt, but continues to say nothing.

From:

silenttrainbaby

That gets a thorough sniffing.

With a look nearly of thanks, Grey puts another bit of cheese on the scarf.

Almost seeming to talk, the cat kneads at the scarf, claws pulling at bits of it, then eats the cheese and sits, looking at them both with his one good eye.

From:

plaguedrat

Rat nods, putting a hand out slowly for the cat to sniff as well. "Here cat," he says softly. "Here kitty."

From:

silenttrainbaby

So, this is a cat? This is what Bay was talking about.

Still kneading the scarf, the cat smells Rat's hand, and Grey's too, when he holds it out, mimicking Rat. It's a delicate sensation, that.

From:

plaguedrat

Slowly, he crooks his fingers up, gently scratching the cat's chin.

"It needs to go to the vet."

From:

silenttrainbaby

What's a vet?

Grey pets the cat too and its fur is spiky and soft all at once and his stomach hurts at the sensation.

From:

plaguedrat

"A doctor for animals," he says, assuming Grey's question.

Slowly he reaches out to pick up the corners of the cloth.

From:

silenttrainbaby

The animal turns to give a hiss at that and Grey actually almost smiles. The cat reminds him of Edgar in some ways.

He touches Rat's hand to urge it back - a vet will demand something, right? Face paper or something? He has what he has but that is all. If the cat needs a doctor, he hopes he can help. He then reaches forward, not as smoothly as if he weren't injured, and the cat sniffs at his cast, but doesn't object to being held, though its small body is tense.

From:

plaguedrat

Rat's instinct is to bare his teeth and hiss back, to be the dominant creature, but he holds off. Dropping the corner of cloth, he holds out soft hands for the cat at Grey's insistence.

"...it's not feral," he observes, scowling. "This cat was born to be a pet and someone threw it away."

From:

silenttrainbaby

Does Grey know that he was a pet in a way? He wasn't thrown away, but passed on, dying for the bigger picture. He still misses Gilliam desperately, most often at night. When Rat has the cat, Grey gathers the scarf and reaches for the animal. He has nothing and the cat has nothing: nothing plus nothing could, perhaps, equal something.

From:

plaguedrat

With more care than might be expected, he gently passes the cat into the waiting scarf, helping to bundle it up. Hands freed Rat turns on the phone he's avoided using so that he can look up a veterinarian.

"We're not far from an animal doctor."

From:

silenttrainbaby

If Rat has a chance to notice, Grey is looking at him with gratitude. He would know none of this, not know what to do if Rat weren't here. He holds the creature whose warmth goes through the scarf into his chest and he knows he will protect this animal with all that he has.

From:

plaguedrat

Rat memorizes the route before turning his phone all the way off and nodding in the direction. He walks, expecting Grey to follow and keep up.

Perhaps someone else would try and fill up the quiet, Rat doesn't.

From:

silenttrainbaby

It sure isn't going to be Grey who fills it, or the cat, who peers over Grey's cast to see where they're going. Grey matches Rat's stride and looks around. Those in the train would know his expression: determined.

From:

plaguedrat

Rat knows it too, appreciates it a little. It's a look he's seen on many faces, worn himself.

"We're almost there." He assesses the cat, remembering all the things that the Dogkeeper had said when taking their dogs in and out. "Eye is gone. Probably infected too. Fleas, maybe heart worm. Might have mange. Can'ttell with the matting."

From:

silenttrainbaby

Most of that didn't mean anything. "Infected" and Eye is gone - that made sense. It didn't change how Grey feels though. He doesn't know that heartworm can be deadly. Leukemia, deadly.

All he knows is that this animal is his friend and he will protect it.

At the office, they walk inside and again, he's assaulted by that antiseptic smell like at the hospital. His nose wrinkles and he holds the cat a little tighter, which earns a petulant meow.

From:

plaguedrat

Rat notices the tension, sympathizes, but knows what has to be done. If Grey wants the little fleabag to live, it'll need medical attention.

"Stray cat. Needs help," he says simply.

From:

silenttrainbaby

"Oh. Well." The receptionist smiles. "Right this way." She rises, leading them to a small, white room with strange posters on it. "The doctor will be in shortly."

Standing just inside, Grey doesn't let go of the cat.

From:

plaguedrat

Rat leans on the wall by the door, waiting for the vet to appear, looking between Grey and the cat and wondering what will come next and what the hell he's doing getting involved.

"They may have to keep it for a while."