Protect Him

By: All Grown Up

Rated: PG-13

Disclaimer: Dark Angel belongs to people richer and more important than me. ::sniff:: I've asked nicely, but Fox just doesn't know how to share.

Summary: This story has been entered in the fic and art competition at awards dot thebrokenworld dot org. Just remove spaces. It is in response to a challenge by BeBoring - pick a character and describe his or her defining moment in 500 words exactly. Go check out the awards and vote!

A/N: Yes, I'm back! In the middle of all the craziness of applying to colleges, inspiration struck and I managed to find some time to jot this one down. More will be coming, hopefully sooner rather than later. But I am indeed still alive!

I saw this challenge and I couldn't really pass up the opportunity for a quick exploration of Joshua's character. The toughest part was doing it in 500 words - I'm rarely that concise.

Anyway, enjoy!

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It was the day Father didn't come.

Father always came. At the same time, every day. He used to come a lot more, but that was before - before the basement, before whispers and secrets, hard men in boots and uniforms. Before the light had been replaced by darkness, and the warmth by coldness. Before fear.

Joshua had waited. The sun was low enough to set the very tops of the trees on fire, and the dog-man sat dutifully by the door that led to the world above - a world once so familiar, now strange and cold. He remembered his confusion the day Father had ushered them into the basement and led them through the passageways - their new home. The old man had pulled Joshua aside and given him stern instructions: "Whatever happens, you must look after your brother. Protect him. Will you promise me that, Joshua?"

Joshua had nodded, a good son. "Yes, Father."

That was the last time he had seen the kindly old smile. Father rarely smiled anymore. Joshua hadn't understood the warnings then, but he had taken them to heart anyway, because Father was never wrong.

Joshua continued to wait. Dusk had full and truly set in, but he felt his hopes rise one last time as faint footsteps approached, lighter than the heavy footfalls of guards in army boots. They were growing stronger, nearer, and Joshua was about to cry out in joy when they fell sharply away, replaced by a silence that was overbearing. Isaac moaned behind him, and Joshua felt his heart sink with the dying sun. Father hadn't come.

That night was the darkest and coldest that Joshua could remember. He had ventured out to search for food, but the sterile hallways were confusing in the darkness and heavily guarded by men with guns. Bad men. Joshua could sense it, could smell it in the air as they approached. So he retreated to the basement, the only safe haven left to him.

When he returned, Isaac lifted his tearstained face from his large paws, eyes shining with hope in the darkness. Joshua slowly shook his head. "Father gone," he said simply, and as harsh as the words sounded in the dank air, they were true. Joshua was part dog, after all - he had instincts, and he knew that Father was gone, and that he wasn't coming back.

Isaac's whimpers began anew and soon turned to howls of grief. Joshua knelt in front of his brother, a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Isaac." The younger looked at him, sniffling. "Father lost in the people. We find him. We wait. Father will come."

The brothers huddled together through the night. As Isaac dozed, Joshua gazed into the darkness and thought about Father's words. He had known, somehow, and he had left it to Joshua. "Protect him," he had said. And he would - he would protect all of them. Father would be back one day. He had to believe that. He would wait.

Father would come.

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Thanks for reading. Review? Pretty please?