With Spirit out of earshot, Stein swung out of bed and studied the dog. "I don't think there's anything wrong with you. Don't listen to him. You're absolutely fine."
The dog continued to watch him as he pulled on a pair of pants and retrieved his glasses. When he brushed past it to make for the kitchen, it pulled an about face and trotted contentedly behind him, black toenails clacking against the concrete floor. It seemed no worse for wear, even though it had underwent fairly serious surgery just yesterday. It seated itself at the edge of the kitchen and watched Stein as he started to make tea.
Though he had never owned a dog, the doctor found it easy to hold a one-sided conversation with the animal, especially one that seemed to hang on his every word. Rather than find it unnerving, like Spirit apparently did, Stein decided it was a fantastic trait for a dog to possess.
"I'm afraid your breakfast will have to wait until I can figure out what to feed you, and where I'm supposed to get it," he said as he switched off the tapwater. A noise came from the dog's direction, not a bark or a whimper, but almost a cough. A glottal stop of sorts, and it made Stein pause and glance at the dog over the top of his glasses. He dismissed it as coincidence, but for a moment he could've sworn it sounded impatient. "Here, why don't you go outside for a bit, and then I can take those bandages off?"
The patchwork dog followed him to the door and then slipped outside. Stein left it ajar, so the dog could return at will. There was something about the canine that made him certain it would come back within a few minutes.
A bit of screeching made him check the teapot, but no, it was just Spirit's attempts at singing in the shower. Stein had to grit his teeth and rub at an offended ear while he arranged the rest of his promised breakfast peace offering. By the time Spirit wandered into the kitchen, fully clothed and smelling of medical-grade antiseptic, Stein had made his way onto a second cup of tea and piece of toast.
"One of these days, I promise I will convert you from that wretchedly sterile shampoo over to something that smells less like a surgical theatre and more like soap," Spirit muttered, and pulled out the chair across from Stein. His disgruntled expression only grew as he surveyed the table. "Oh. I forgot. Your idea of breakfast is so…"
Stein raised an dangerous eyebrow as Spirit trailed off. "Careful..."
"Great. So great," Spirit flashed all of his teeth at the potential dragon sitting across from him, then proceeded to spread an epic layer of jam over a piece of the bazillion-grain toast that Stein insisted was not only healthy but tasted good. In Spirit's opinion, it tasted worse than cardboard, but he had finally managed to sneak a large collection of jams and jellies into Stein's fridge, just for his own use.
His save seemed to placate Stein, who went back to his tea. The click-clack of nail on floor made both of them turn to watch the dog trot in from the open door. Wordlessly, they followed the mutt's path down the hall and into the kitchen, then went slack-jawed as the dog hopped right onto the open chair at the table. It's one-eyed stare fixed itself on Stein, and then it made that funny little noise again, like tapping their tongue against the roof of their mouth.
"I think he's hungry," Stein commented, to no one in particular.
Spirit had nothing to answer with, so he just continued to gape at the dog. Out of curiosity, Stein offered the mutt the rest of his own breakfast, half of the last piece of toast with a sparse layer of honey spread over the top. With it an inch from his muzzle, the dog twitched its moist black nose and then peeled back its lips to reveal a gleaming set of white teeth. With delicate precision, it plucked the bread from Stein's fingers and swallowed it in one gulp.
"You shouldn't feed him from the table," Spirit muttered, having rediscovered his voice.
"Quiet. He's not your dog. He can eat from the table if he wants."
Stein was rather amused by the dog's behavior, and so, to test his experiment, he pushed the remains of his cup of tea over to the dog, too. Even though the dog's teeth and tongue were rather large, it didn't hesitate a moment before lapping at the warm liquid. Stein laughed openly and snapped his fingers, shooting a lopsided smile at Spirit. "Doesn't even spill a drop! What a perfect guest. I think I'll keep him, Spirit."
Spirit just shook his head as he licked the remnants of strawberry jam off of his fingers. "You should. He's as awkward as you are. What are you going to name him, Doctor?"
"Huh. I don't know."'
"Well, have fun with that. I'm late enough, already. Kiss me goodbye?" Spirit got to his feet and shot Stein his most charming of smiles, the one he knew would never be denied. He flung his arms around Stein's neck as the scientist rose to meet him, and plastered his mouth to the other man's. Cigarettes and honey. Spirit approved.
After shutting the door behind Spirit, Stein regarded the dog, who was still seated at the table. It regarded him, in turn, as he cleared the table, sweeping Spirit's trail of crumbs into one hand and brushing them into the trash. He leaned one hip against the counter and chewed on a thumbnail in thought.
"A name, huh? Well. Let's see. This is more Spirit's department, really….I suppose it was luck that he spotted you and carried you here. Lucky?"
Stein jumped a bit as the dog growled loudly, as though in response. Just as quickly, though, the growl ceased, leaving the doctor to wonder if it was just another fluke. These possible coincidences, though, were growing too frequent for him to keep dismissing them. He decided to entertain the notion of the dog being unnaturally intelligent, since Spirit wasn't around to protest his inner crazy coming to the surface.
"Alright, I'm sorry. Wrong choice. Since you're made of spare parts, now, what about Patches?"
Another deep-throated growl, but the dog still stayed in his chair, watching Stein with his usual intensity.
"Wrong, again, I see. Well, I'm sure we'll find one you'll like, eventually. In the meantime, how about a look under those bandages?"
As he expected, the dog followed him as he headed towards the surgical suite. A bit of searching produced a pair of bandage scissors, and Stein crouched on the floor beside the animal to start slicing through the white tape. The dog stood unflinchingly as Stein unwound the gauze and padding, but did sneak a lap of his tongue against the doctor's wrist when he removed the bandaging from his face. Stein laughed for this and scratched under the beast's ear. Out from the cover of his wrappings, the dog was a strange sight, indeed. Black fur clashed with grey, big lines of sutures joining the pieces together. The patch of grey on his face broke up the severe darkness of the dog's expression and gave him a much friendlier face. The green eyes peering out from the repaired face were so bright they made Stein's look as dull as cut grass.
"Huh. How odd. You seem to be healing exceptionally fast, dog. I had thought your high spirits were just from the benefit of youth and maybe some genetic hardiness, but there's barely any inflammation near the incision sites. No seepage. No rejection of the new skin. Remarkable, really…" he mumbled. The dog's tail fanned in the air lazily, and when his mouth parted in panting, Stein was sure he was laughing with self-assuredness. Maybe Spirit was right, after all. There definitely was something unusual about this dog.
He mused over this in silence as he cleared away the discarded bandages and then readied himself for the day. Though the dog followed him like a mottled shadow, it was silent and Stein found himself enjoying the steady presence beside him. When he showered, the dog curled up in a ball on top of his discarded pants. While he dressed, the dog hopped onto the bed and flopped sideways on the blankets. By the time Stein walked out the front door, he felt as though the dog had become a permanent part of him.