Notes: With thanks to WET NOODLES and traincat for beta reading and putting up with a great deal of my whining about the ending. This takes place in an America-ish modern setting unrelated to Broadbandverse, the setting for my other modern AUs.

Also, happy National Puppy Day. (I didn't plan for this to happen—this came in one swoop of inspiration yesterday morning. Really.)

State Home for Dogs

Libra was in the middle of making dinner when he received a phone call at seven. Wiping vegetable juice off onto a towel, he answered, "Yes, this is Libra Rivers speaking?—Henry's gone missing? Hmmm. Yes, I think I have some ideas. I'll let you know if I find him. No, I don't think it'll be necessary to report him. ... Mmhmm. ... I'll let you know soon. ... Yes, you too. Bye."

He put the phone down and resumed chopping carrots. He knew where the boy was. And since Libra was professionally obligated to turn him over once he found him, he took his time.

Henry slipped in through the back, picking off the duct tape he'd left on the door. All twelve dogs in the room perked up at his presence and started barking for his attention. As expected, pressing a finger to his lips and hissing shhhh did no good, and the commotion got the dogs in the other rooms started too. Oh well. The buildings were all practically a quarter of a mile apart from each other in this nowhere town. It wasn't as if anyone would hear.

"Well then! Good evening, Buddy, Angel, Pineapple, Brandy, Denver..."

He trailed his fingers along the bars of their cages, prompting the dogs to make a terrible racket, leaping against the bars and snorting and licking at his fingers. Henry laughed, chortling, "Settle down! Settle down!" without meaning a word.

At last he arrived at the cage of the husky mutt he'd come for. Once again, Luna had neglected to pee in the newspapers spread in the corner. Just like any other day. It was almost comforting. "Okay, Luna, you're going to have to wait for me to get the mop." Luna did not wait for the mop, treading circles in excitement and tracking wet paw prints all over her cage floor as Henry popped over to the closet and then the sink with mop and bucket in hand. Figuring that no one would see, he flipped on the lights, causing another round of barking.

When Henry opened her door, Luna planted her wet forepaws against his chest. He laughed and scratched her firmly behind the ears and laid a kiss on her nose. Contented, Luna let go of him and settled for trotting out the cage and waiting next to Henry, wagging her tail. "We should probably go take a bath," Henry said as he cleaned her mess, bending over to pick up stray kibble and tossing it back into her bowl. Luna paced in circles, sniffing at the bucket, sniffing at Henry, just about knocking him onto the floor. "Hey! Calm down girl, I'm staying all night."

Luna did not calm down. She kept bumping into him the whole time, even as he dumped out the bucket and stuck everything back in the closet. Henry thought that was fair enough—there was no sense in obedience training her tonight.

"Okay! Let's get us a bath! You love baths, don't you?" Luna actually did love baths. It was one of her redeeming qualities. She trotted after him to the washroom. When he opened the door, she ran ahead of him and hopped onto the washing counter, wagging her grubby tail.

Henry ditched his own stained shirt in a pile of dirty towels and turned the water on at full blast, just like they both liked it when his boss wasn't there to yell at him about the water bill. He sprayed Luna in the side, making her burble to him as he scrubbed all along her body. In between splashing water all over the place with her tail and thumping one hind foot, at one point Luna grabbed Henry's hand with her mouth in excitement. "Ow." Henry sprayed her in the face and she let go with a snuff of surprise.

"Aww, Luna, now I'm going to make a bloody mess." So he said, but he switched the shower hose to his wounded left hand so that he could finish working the water into her fur with his fingers. Luna obliviously licked at his bleeding hand, beating her tail against the counter like she hadn't any idea of what she'd done. She probably didn't. It was part of why he loved her.

When she had been thoroughly rinsed down, Henry turned off the water and grabbed some fresh towels, mentally rehearsing his inevitable conversation with his boss about getting blood on everything. Apparently, it was a biohazard.

Luna hopped down from the counter to follow him before shaking herself off, making him lean over to dry her. She wasn't very good at shaking herself dry, either, and as usual it took three bloodstained towels before she was acceptably damp. Henry dried himself off with the last one and decided he had bigger things to worry about than a shirt. He threw all the towels in the hamper on top of his old one, deciding to go without.

"Time for a detour," he announced to Luna, sucking on his hand as he turned off the washroom light and closed the door. She followed him down the hall to where they kept the first aid kit. Henry hadn't bothered to turn on the lights in the hall—the cats in the room nearby had woken to all the noise and started meowing for attention themselves anyway—and although his night vision was good, he fumbled a little with the gauze pad wrappers by the faint light that spilled over from the dogs' area. Luna helped by poking her nose between his knees to sniff at the bleach.

At last he had his hand reasonably bandaged so that the animal shelter wouldn't look like a murder scene in the morning. (Even if, technically, it would be.) He could hardly move his thumb with the way he'd wrapped the bandages, but it would do.

Henry replaced the first aid kit and led Luna back down the hall. He collapsed into the chair at the front desk, grabbing the pack of treats on the counter. He spun the chair around and patted at his lap for Luna to come, shaking the bag of treats. "C'mere." Having never seen the gesture, she cluelessly stood before him with her tongue lolling out, waiting for the treat. He took one out and tossed it to her. She gobbled it immediately, then went back to looking at him expectantly. "C'mere, Luna. Oh—" Henry put the treats aside. He got out of the chair and started to wrap his arms under her to pick her up, but she startled, so Henry took the hint and settled for sitting on the floor. Spitefully, he kicked the chair away—Luna watched with ears alert as it rolled forward and slammed into the desk. "C'mere." This time she understood, and walked on top of his legs to stick her nose in his face.

Henry wriggled his legs out from under her heavy paws, wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and leaned his head against her still-damp neck. Her bristly fur rubbed against his skin all the way down across his cheek, neck, and chest. Cluelessly, Luna stepped on his leg again with one hind paw. He let it go and closed his eyes, running his hand across her back.

"Do you think bad dogs and bad people go to the same place, Luna?"

—Not that Luna seemed very bad right now, panting loudly and thumping her tail against the ground. But Henry was a rotten judge of these things.

"You don't have to wait or anything. But if you remember me in awhile, that would be nice."

Luna interrupted her panting to lick her own nose, then resumed panting happily. Henry patted her on the back, then squeezed her in a tight hug that made her step all over his legs again. "You're not scared, huh, Luna? Me neither."

She wiggled her head out back from between his arms, shaking out her mussed fur. Henry looked at her, and she looked at him, before seeming to take notice of something behind her. "What's that, Luna?" As insolently as a cat, she trotted away and around the counter without an explanation before returning with a ragged stuffed monkey in her mouth. Luna went up to Henry, her eyes bright, her tail wagging vigorously.

"You want to play fetch? But you never actually fetch anything."

Of course, he took the toy from her and threw it anyway, his right hand sending it no farther than two or three feet away. Luna overshot it, doubled back with hind paws skidding across the floor, and sniffed the toy where it had fallen. Then she picked it up in her mouth and sat there, looking at Henry expectantly.

He humored her, going up to him and wrestling the toy away from her to toss again. Luna bounced around, knocking against chairs and walls in toss after toss like she was made of something indestructible. Perhaps wanting a part of the commotion, the dogs down the hall began to bark. "I should probably go turn off the lights," Henry said. Luna sat there expectantly with her toy in her mouth. Henry gave in and went to get it from her for another round.

Just as Luna was about to pick up the toy again, there came a knocking sound. They both froze and faced the front of the building.

Libra was there, peering in through the glass front wall. When Henry saw him, Libra smiled and gave a small wave.

"I guess we should let Mr. Rivers in?" Henry asked Luna. She sat down and looked at Libra, then looked at Henry, and blinked meaningfully. "Aww, Mr. Rivers is nice. Promise."

With a hint of resignation, Henry went to the front door and opened it for Libra to come in. Luna stayed put as Henry closed it behind him, looking very serious despite the stuffed monkey at her feet.

"Hello, Henry," Libra said, not remarking on his shirtlessness.

"Hi, Mr. Rivers."

Libra inclined his head at the husky observing him with silent gravitas. "Would that be Luna?"

"Uh huh. She doesn't really like people. Other than me, that is." Henry went over to Luna and sat down next to her. "It's okay, Luna." She continued to fix Libra with her guard-dog stare, so Libra opted to stay where he was.

"Have you finished playing with her?" he said gently.

Henry glanced at the familiar sedan in the parking lot outside and back at Libra. "I sorta promised I'd spend the night with her."

Libra exhaled and slowly dropped himself to a seated position under Luna's watchful gaze. "I would let you stay if I could, Henry."

"So why don't you?"

"If I don't tell them I've found you, they'll declare you missing and send the police out to look. They will certainly check here."

Henry sighed like Libra was the one being difficult.

"But if it doesn't come to that, I can talk to your principal tomorrow and I'm sure he'll let you take the morning off to come say bye to Luna."

Henry made a noncommittal sound and looked at Luna. She was still watching Libra as if she had been tasked with the most important job in the world.

"Or, even better, we could ask around and see if someone would take her."

"No one would take Luna," Henry said bluntly. "She pees and bites people and doesn't even look friendly. I always knew she'd end up getting put down. It's all right."

Libra wished he could have said that he would take the dog, but he knew it was against the rules of his profession. So instead he said, "It doesn't have to be all right."

"No, it's okay, really," Henry insisted. "Otherwise she'd probably be passed around for a few more years and end up in a crate again. It's better this way." He reached out to touch Luna, startling her attention away from Libra. She gave Henry a look for interrupting her, and resumed her vigilant staring as he stroked her back.

Libra had a feeling that if he let this dog go, it would teach Henry all the wrong things. This child did not need to learn to accept loss. Rather, he was already prepared to lose anything. That was his problem.

Libra took out his smartphone, and Henry dully observed with a sardonic smile, "Are you going to tell them where I am?"

"I'm going to tell them I've found you," Libra said politely, then smiled conspiratorially. "But I'm not turning you over. Don't worry." Henry's grin turned quizzical; someone picked up the phone. "Hello?—It's Libra Rivers. I've found him. He's fine, but could we have a few moments? ... I'd prefer not to. Don't worry, he's with me. Yes, everything's under control. Mmhmm. Mmhm, I know. I know. It'll be a reasonable hour. I'll bring him over when we're done. ... It's a delicate matter. Yes, of course I'll discuss it with you later. ... See you later tonight."

"Now," Libra said in the stern voice he usually reserved for Sundays. Keeping the phone in one hand, he gestured to Luna with the other. "Look at her. Do you really think she wants to die?"

Henry looked at Luna, who was still staring at Libra and frankly seemed indifferent to the idea. "I dunno. But it probably won't seem too bad once she's gotten it over with."

"There's no going back from death."

"—I know—"

"How old is she?"

Caught off guard by the twist in the conversation, Henry said, "Two?"

"Listen. We can try asking some rescue groups if they'll take her. They're good people. They'd keep her for as long as it takes, and they wouldn't leave her in the hands of anyone irresponsible. If it's really as you say, and she'll still be a difficult dog to place after years of training, by then you'll be old enough to adopt her yourself." Libra didn't mention, of course, that at eighteen Henry would likely have enough problems looking after himself. The boy didn't need any help being pessimistic.

Instead, Henry said, "I dunno. It seems weird to do all of this for one dog."

"What do you mean?" Libra said, taken aback.

"They put down dogs here every other day. A lot of them were nicer than Luna. Why do so much for her?"

"You didn't sneak over here at night to play with the other dogs," Libra pointed out. "I could ask you the same question."

Luna had begun to relax, glancing curiously between Henry and Libra as they spoke. Henry patted her on the head and said, "Because I like her of course."

"Isn't that reason enough to try a little harder for Luna?"

"Just because I like her?" Henry repeated. "That's silly. That shouldn't make any difference. I like barbecue rib days but they're only going to have them twice a year."

"It does make a difference," Libra said, refusing to get sidetracked. "When you love someone, you fight for them."

Henry didn't protest that Libra changed his L-word, or that he'd put on his Sunday voice again. He pet his dog and gave an intrigued hum as if Libra had just shown him a magic trick.

"Here." Pressing the internet search app, Libra offered Henry his phone. "Why don't you search for some nearby rescues, and we'll call them together."

He accepted the phone, but not without saying, "You know, Mr. Rivers, you're actually pretty pushy." Libra quirked an eyebrow. "Not that there's anything wrong with pushy. But some people mind I guess."

"I'll keep it in mind."

Henry fiddled awkwardly with the phone, holding it in his bandage-paralyzed left hand while poking letters with his right. As if trying to reclaim his attention, Luna kept trying to stick her head under his arm. "Hang on, Luna." Each time he'd give her a few brief pats and resume his arduous typing. "Okay. I found some. They're all the way over in Ylisstol and stuff though."

"It's only a two hour drive," Libra said. "We can take her there tomorrow morning. Shall we call and see if they have room?"

Henry immediately handed him his phone back. "You're probably better at talking."

"If you'd like."

Libra dialed the number as Henry took Luna's big head into his arms and rubbed her all over her neck like she wanted. Apparently, Luna had decided that Libra wasn't enough of a reason to refrain from basking in Henry's attention. "Hello? ... Good evening, my name is Libra Rivers. I'm a social worker in the Border Sands area. I have here a two-year-old husky mix from a shelter... she's due to be euthanized tomorrow morning. She has some behavioral issues, but she's very important to a client of mine..." Presently, Luna's tail began thumping against the ground. "Mmhmm. Yes, exactly. That was what I was hoping. Oh, good. Yes, I believe we can bring her records. ... Would around nine or ten tomorrow morning be good for you? Excellent. Yes, thank you. It means the world to him. Thank you, again. Have a good night."

Henry smiled at Libra as he got off the phone. Luna had crawled into his lap and cocked an ear when Libra stopped talking.

"All right. I'll come pick you up at seven and we'll both be here to get Luna before the doors open. The vet comes at nine, correct?"

Henry nodded. "I can take her papers with us so they won't be able to approve it!"

"No, I don't think stealing will be necessary... but I can leave a note, just to be sure. Why don't we tuck Luna in for the night and go home?"

So they walked Luna back over to the dogs' wing, and when she realized it was time to back into her cage, she whined and ducked and sent Henry scrambling around the shelter for another twenty minutes before he finally coaxed her in by sitting down in her cage with a handful of treats until she came in to feast contentedly in his lap. Libra took this moment to walk out to his car for a spare shirt.

Alone with the dogs again, Henry ruffled Luna's fur in both directions and said, "Don't be scared, Luna. They'll play with you and take you out on walks every day." Luna cluelessly thumped her tail as he pet her.

The next morning, Henry sat next to Luna's crate in the black Hummer that Libra had showed up with (his wife's car), bound for Ylisstol.

Luna whined persistently from inside the crate. Henry stuck his fingers through the bars in an attempt to pacify her. "Aw, it's okay Luna. You'll be out in a few hours," he said at first.

Thirty minutes later, he was leaning his face against the cage and it was, "They'll take good care of you. Don't worry. The cage is just so that we don't crash the car."

And then, "I'm sure they'll like you. It'll be all right even if we don't see each other again."

"Mr. Rivers?"

"Hm?" Libra had been listening to all of it and wondering how a child so distraught over parting with his dog could have ever possibly attended her execution, though he had spoken such cold-blooded words before.

"Do you really think I'd be able to take care of Luna someday?"

"Perhaps," Libra said evenly, trying to piece together an encouraging response. "It can often be surprising what people manage to do for the sake of their loved ones."

Henry laid with his face on Luna's cage and his seatbelt pinched around his waist, the fingers of his well-bandaged left hand resting between the bars next to where Luna's head laid upon her paws. The vibration of the car against the highway through the steel bars made his cheek a bit numb. After a silence that marked the end of that conversation, Henry said, apropos to nothing, "Thanks."