A/N: So, my first Hoot fic. I'm branching out, guys! My recent obsession with Hoot (Logan Lerman!) has caused this story. This is a familyfic, with Roy/Bea slash if you squint really hard.
Enjoy! (*cough cough* review! *cough cough*)
Beatrice jogged out to the beach, panting softly. She knocked on the side of the boat lightly.
Looking around, she added, "Mullet? You out there?"
Beatrice Leep had lost her stepbrother yet again. Actually, strictly speaking, he had lost her, but when it came to her brother, Beatrice felt personally responsible.
"Bea… I'm up here," a voice said faintly from the boat cabin. The words were slurred slightly, and Beatrice panicked.
"Mullet!" she exclaimed, swarming up the side of the boat quickly. She ran into the cabin, and looked around in a frenzy.
"Relax, Bea, I'm right here. Probably not gonna be going anywhere, anyhow," Mullet Fingers said wryly, gesturing down to his arm. Beatrice gasped.
"What happened? Oh God, it looks infected. How long have you been like this? Why didn't you come to me?" Beatrice fired her words quickly, with the rat-tat of a machine gun.
"Bit by a dog at the lot. It is infected, and my arm's been this way for, I don't know, fourteen hours. I didn't come to you because I knew you would come to me," Mullet Fingers did his best to answer his sister's questions.
"I've got to get you help," Beatrice said.
"Where will you go? Not the police?" Mullet Fingers asked worriedly.
"Of course not, silly. I'll go to… to Roy." Beatrice answered hesitantly. Her brother smirked.
"Roy, huh? You got the hots for him?" he chuckled. Beatrice turned bright red.
"No. If you say that again, I'll break your arm!" Beatrice threatened.
"Aw, you wouldn't. I know you wouldn't," said Mullet Fingers nonchalantly.
"Fine, you're right. I'd just give you a good black eye, instead!" Beatrice answered sharply.
"That, I can believe," her brother laughed, then winced as pain shot through his arm. "When you go, tell Roy to bring meat with him," he added.
"What do you need meat for?" Beatrice asked curiously, moving to the cabin door.
"The dogs," was Mullet Finger's only reply. Beatrice glanced at him worriedly one last time, before shutting the door. Blinking in the Florida sun, she hopped over the side of the boat. Taking a deep breath, she started jogging, and then running.
Mullet Fingers was the only real family she had, and she would do anything for him. If she told anybody about it, they'd only laugh, and ask how a family could be that size, and why didn't a father and stepmother count. They had no idea.
Beatrice, however, knew that family was the people you could count on to love you, and to be there for you. She knew that family was family, no matter how small.