Title: Dogged
Author: LM Simpson (Kady the Red Panda)
Pairing(s): ElenaxZick
Rating: T
Warning(s): Transformation, sad ending
Disclaimer: Disney would crush me if I ever tried to acquire the rights. I don't want a broken back the rest of my life, please.
Other tidbits: Sometimes I write cute, fluffy stuff like "Cookies with Santa." Sometimes I write crude, light-hearted stuff like "Testosterone Poisoning." Sometimes I write stuff like this. I wanted to write a werewolf fic, but it somehow evolved into this as I wrote the outline and rough draft.
From my current plans, this will be three chapters long. They will be up when I can. I got school, y'know? Oh, and my review policy still applies. So don't flame me or else.
Enjoy!
Chapter One
1111
Weird things happened on December 21. Even non-superstitious citizens admitted that. Miss Swift's current pupils even promised themselves to exchange their experiences upon returning from Christmas break. Whoever told the most unusual experience had their grade's smartest kid do his or her homework for a month. When most of the students did it the previous year, it was a tie between David's and Mattie and Patty's. David confessed to witnessing books thrown off shelves as if by an invisible hand, and the girls swore they noticed their doppelgangers roughing up a neighbor's roof.
Most desired outdoor investigations of peculiar activity—some to figure out why strange things happened, others just to come back with a personal ghost story. That day's rain and sleet extinguished any chances and desires. Only one student exited his home that day, and it was not for experiencing the unknown.
"What did you want me here for, Elena?" Zick asked as he sat on her bed Indian-style. His wet blue jacket and hat hung on the doorknob. Compared to the already dark outside, Elena's room was as cozy as the inside of a heater.
Elena, whose left shoulder rubbed against his right, only replied, "Cover your eyes. No peeking!"
Their shoulders no longer touched. Eyes closed, Zick only head the mattress squeak and felt the bed's right side slightly rise from under him. Soon, he felt a lump plop onto his lap with a "thud."
"Okay! You can open them!"
Zick looked down. The mystery lump was a petite while box sealed shut with burgundy craft ribbon.
"Well open it!"
He tugged the ribbon off one side with a finger; the top was freed. Lifting it revealed, among white fluffy material, a silver necklace. The pendant charm itself was a half circle with jagged edges on the right side. The word "best," written in black, was on it.
He lifted the necklace by the chain. Huh? Does Elena think I'm a girl? A ton of the more giggly and bubbly girls at school wore them.
"Uh… Thanks. But why did you give me this?"
Elena wore its companion around her neck. It read "friends." "I know it's a day early, but happy thirteenth birthday, Zick!" She hugged him. "How do you like it?"
"Like what?"
"The necklace!"
"Oh, that… Uh, it's okay."
Elena let go. "Just okay?"
"Well… I don't know what to say. It's nice, but…"
"So you don't appreciate our friendship?"
"No, no! It's not that!" He looked at his necklace. "Not at all, Elena. I just don't know if I can wear this or not!"
Elena frowned, then growled. "You dog! I paid twenty bucks for that at a high end jewelry store, and that was when it was on sale! You can be so ungrateful sometimes, Zick!"
"No, no, no! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Thank you very much for the gift, really!"
She gave him a second present: a cold stare.
"Okay, I guess I'll take to you later…" He got off the bed, grabbed his jacket and hat, and silently exited the home.
The raindrops rhythmically and methodically attacked everything in their path. The only other figures Zick saw outside was a man walking his dog. The large black dog on the opposite side cocked his heads towards the boy and barked. The man grunted and struggled to restrain his dog, but he material slipped from his hands.
Zick yelped, ran like hell for the stairs, and slammed the door behind him. His socks and shoes were drenched, as were his jacket and hat. He peeled the articles off and smelled pan-fried porkchops and rice cooking.
"Guys, wash up!" Greta called from the kitchen. "Dinner's almost ready!"
He sighed. At least Mom's cooking is always a bright spot in even my cloudiest days…
Zob noticed something different about his son. "Nice necklace. Where'd you get it?"
Rice still filled Zick's mouth. "From Elena."
Greta butted in. "That's nice of her. Don't forget to send her a thank you card!"
"Are you excited about your birthday tomorrow, son?"
Zick shrugged and continued eating. "Kinda."
"Really? Just kinda? But you're turning the big 1-3 in a couple of hours!"
"If he wasn't born a minute past midnight," Greta interrupted again, "we would be celebrating it tonight. In fact, if he didn't get stuck halfway through—"
Both men covered their ears. Zick quipped, "Mom! Not while I'm eating!"
Greta sighed and sipped some water.
Zick swallowed his final spoonful of rice. Only scraps of meat and some grains of rice remained on his plate. His stomach was so full he could explode. He clutched it and groaned.
"I think I'm going to bed."
Both parents stared blankly. It was only half past nine.
"Are you sure?" said Zob.
"Yeah. I don't feel so good."
Greta rose and placed a hand on her son's forehead.
"Oh my! Baby, you're burning up!"
She grabbed some red capulets from the bathroom medicine cabinet and Zick's half-full water glass.
"Here," she said before her son swallowed them whole. "Now go get some sleep, okay?"
Zick left the kitchen. "Okay. 'Night Mom, 'night Dad."
"Good night!" Both said.
Zick did not bother changing into his pajamas. He simply wanted to sleep his aches and pains away and hope for a better day tomorrow. His slumber started after his head touched his pillow. The temporary hibernation lasted for two and a half hours.
One minute past midnight, Zick felt a sheer, scathing pain spanning his entire body. He woke up and felt nauseated and sweaty. His stomach flipped. He leaned to the side of his bed and vomited onto his bedroom floor. The scent and taste burned his throat and nostrils.
He groaned. His temperature only skyrocketed as he slept. An inferno consumed everything in and out. Zick pulled away the covers, but he only felt worse.
He emitted a pained cry as he rushed at tearing off every piece of clothing on his body. Now a volcano seemed to erupt within him. Death was humane at this stage. Zick thought it could not get any worse as he laid in the fetal position. He was gravely wrong.
His internal organs shifted and his ribcage expanded. He could only close his eyes and yelp as he felt himself altering all over. His hands closed and flattened. His muscles enlarged. A slender growth extended his tailbone. Bones crunched and reassembled, and that was not even the worst pain. No, the worst pain occurred as he appeared to shrink and spout thick hair—no, fur…
The heat and pain ceased. The stench and the rain pelting against the roof accentuated.
Zick hoped it was just a nightmare. He opened his eyes. It was dark, but somehow something felt wrong about everything being black and white.
Huh? What's with the dog paw? It twitched. He felt like he did it.
Wha…? He tried to roll onto his back, but felt too rigid. He had to roll onto all fours. Something felt wrong afterwards. Very, very wrong. He felt a small weight just above his lower back move back and forth.
No, no! It can't be! I can't be a—
He tried to scream. Only a bark came out.
No, no, no, no, no! I don't want to be a dog! I just can't!
The bedroom door was slightly open. He hopped off and ran out into the hallway.
How the heck can I be a dog? Aunt Emily must have had something to do with this! But why would she want to specifically turn me into a dog?
Going down the stairs was scary. The whole time he was afraid he would fall down and break his neck ( Nooo! I don't wanna die as a dog!). When he was halfway he saw Bombo on the lower steps. The monster crouched down with his arms wide open.
Zick barked, "Bombo! Get Mom and Dad! Aunt Emily turned me into this! I need he—Bombo, what are you doing? Put me down!"
"Shh! Quiet, cute doggy! Timothy already want you outside! You disturb everyone in house he says!"
"No, Bombo! I am Zick! Don't take me outside!
"Timothy! Can you hear me? Understand me? You're about to have Bombo put Zick outside!"
"Bombo, get that dog out of here right now!" Timothy yelled from the living room. "His barking is already driving me nuts!"
Bombo whined as he opened the front door. It was still pouring. "Sorry doggy, but Timothy mad at me and you! Be okay for Bombo!"
The monster dropped the former tamer outside and shut the door. Zick could only zip his head through the doggy door. Timothy's face met his.
"You again? If you want in again, then you must be a spy! Scat, you fiend, or else!"
Zick was about to try to say who he was again when the tutor clawed his face. He yelped as he shoved his head back and ran down the stairs and into the street.
Ow, ow, ow! He stood on all fours on the wet asphalt. Whimpering and wet he knew he needed to find shelter soon. The greenhouse was warm, but required opposable thumbs for entrance. Then he noticed Elena's home also had a doggy door. His new tail wagged—still a funny feeling.
Alright then, he thought as he crept through, I'll just have to get out of there the second one of them wakes up…