Cujo V – The Son Also Rises

Chapter 7

I know it's been ages since I've updated. No excuses offered. Just know that the story hasn't been abandoned and it never will be. I'll see this one through to the end. Thank you for your comments, follows, and favorites. If I haven't yet gotten back to you I apologize. I will be replying shortly.

SPNGran was once again pestered into beta duty. I think she intends to hang a sign at her doorway that says 'Will work for margaritas'. I have no problem with that. As a matter of fact, I think it's cruel to let her drink alone so I'll have to join her. Don't judge us.

Disclaimer: No animals were harmed. No money was made. No one ever got to Hawaii.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

Howling the Blues

Still face down in his pillow, Steve frowned. Even without opening his eyes he knew it must be way past his usual wake-up time. He rarely slept this late; must be because his internal clock is off right now due to the meds. Considering the circumstances behind his sleep-in, he didn't feel guilty; just kind of annoyingly groggy.

Intending to turn onto his back, he realized it wouldn't be as easy as it should be. First, there was the uncomfortable pull on the not yet healed injury, then there was the feeling of weight, or make that, weights on various parts of his body. The warm heaviness between his shoulder blades, behind his knees, and on his butt made him realize the cats had found a comfy sleeping place. Groaning, he began to roll over, hearing several protesting squawks as he did so. Unfortunately, one of his bedmates dug-in to hold onto their position. How dare their human bed move!

"Hey!" he yelped before he felt them finally slide off, wondering why they didn't just get up and change location. At least they hadn't wakened him in the middle of the night so that they could be fed. That was Cujo's usual routine

He blinked at the sunlight flooding into the room and tried to focus on the animals sitting at the foot of the bed. Four sets of eyes stared intently back at him as though their thought waves would make him immediately fetch their breakfasts.

It was then that he noticed something a bit unusual among the feline family. There sat Cujo - a grey cat. Next to him was his mate Lili - an orange cat. Beside her is Tina - a multi-colored cat. Then there's Attila - a blue cat.

Wait! Blue!?

As though drawn as a cartoon, the kitten's fur stood out in stiff spikes. Steve reached for him, intending to pick him up, but quickly pulled his hands back. It was like touching a porcupine! The blue tufts were stiff and pointy as though they'd been shellacked.

"What the hell did you get into?" he muttered to the one with the formerly white spot on its chest - now a bright blue, with the rest of him a sort of indigo.

Looking around for the source of this alarming coloration he noticed something that hadn't been there when he'd gone to bed. Scrunching up his eyes then blinking to be sure he wasn't just imagining it he spied blotches, blue ones, trailing across the hardwood floor from the doorway to the bed and then up onto the bedcovers. Closer examination revealed these blotches were in the shape of paw prints.

Clambering from his bed, he strode to the door he'd left ajar so the cats could come and go as they pleased; there's no way he's keeping a litterbox in his bedroom.

Following the splotches, he made his way down the stairs, careful not to step on the prints, as though he was investigating a crime scene. He followed them across the living room toward the kitchen; a furry entourage trailing behind him in expectation of breakfast.

Entering the room, he froze.

What lay before him almost took his breath away. Like the River Nile, flowing from the broom closet across the linoleum toward the doorway was a ribbon of blue.

"WHAT. THE. FUCK!" he exclaimed at the top of his voice, causing even the steel-nerved Lili to flinch.

On the chairs, on the table, on the counter; everywhere he looked were blue paw prints.

He bent to touch the edge of the shiny stream. Instead of finding it wet, it was dry. It felt like plastic. Muttering to himself as the cats looked on curiously from the safety of the countertop, he traced the river to its head; the tall cupboard in the corner of the room. Peering inside he found a broken glass bottle that had contained the laundry bluing Bambi had purchased just yesterday. Beside it lay a now empty bottle of floor wax. The containers had been on a shelf higher up in the closet along with other cleaners and household products.

Adding up the clues, Five-0's leader theorized the likely scenario behind his kitchen looking as though an entire herd of cats had run through paint then stampeded over every inch of it. The bottle of bluing had broken when it hit the edge of a metal bucket on the closet floor. The floor wax had been knocked off the shelf as well and landed in the bucket, its contents spilling out when the cap had come loose. The liquids had blended and, like a chocolate coated strawberry, Attila had somehow managed to dip himself into the muck. The bucket had tipped over, (probably when the cat had made its escape), and the goo had dripped out of the closet onto the linoleum.

"Holy shit!"

Steve jumped when he heard Danny's exclamation behind him. He'd been so engrossed in his investigation that he hadn't even heard him enter the room.

Having been awakened by his partner's reaction upon discovering the disaster, the detective had struggled out of bed to make his bleary-eyed way to the kitchen. "What the hell happened?" he asked as he hobbled forward, his single crutch tucked under his arm.

"Apparently, someone got a little too curious for their own good." growled Steve, glaring at the assuredly guilty party who stared innocently back at him.

Like birds on a wire, the felines were now lined up at the edge of the countertop, curiously observing the goings on. For all that it mattered; they could have been watching a tennis match as their heads turned back and forth between the two humans. Unlike dogs, cats have no inclination to owning up to their actions. As Cujo's human had learned; they're pretty much guilt-proof.

"Looks like Attila got into the closet, knocked floor wax and laundry bluing off the shelf, somehow coated himself in it, then ran around leaving evidence of the crime over every square inch of my house." Steve summarized.

"So that explains why you have a punked-out Smurf sitting on your counter?" chuckled Danny.

"Yup." sighed his partner; running his hands over his face then again glowering at the animals staring intently back at him; no doubt still waiting for their breakfasts. It seems that Cujo had shown his offspring how to leap from the chairs onto the top of the tile. Wonderful.

"How the hell am I going to clean up this mess?" asked Steve to no one and everyone.

"I dunno, babe. Is that stuff permanent? If so, you could probably get El Gato del Diablo Junior a gig on a Saturday morning cartoon show. Sort of like Barney or one of the Muppets but smaller . . . and bluer."

"We've gotta find him a home . . . soon!"

"Maybe he can be the next internet superstar. You know, 'I can haz fame and fortune despite my seriously fucked-up fur?' If he gets enough followers it can pay for whatever solvent you're going to need to clean up this mess. It's probably gonna take gallons by the way 'cause you've got about ten miles of paw prints to erase. How did he even get them up there?" asked the detective as he pointed toward the wall.

Steve looked in the direction Danny had indicated and saw that, somehow, Attila had managed to track blue splotches nearly four feet off the floor on the wall next to the dining room entrance. Crap!

Now as though suddenly coming completely awake, Steve exclaimed, "I've gotta find out if this stuff is toxic!"

"Oh, please. If you're worried about the little shithead, if he's anything like his father, he'd be indestructible in a nuclear explosion."

"Get dressed, Danny! We have to get them to the emergency vet! If he licked it up it could make him really sick. I don't wanna have to put him down because he's wrecked his liver or his kidneys by ingesting that stuff!"

The spiky blue kitten gazed innocently back at the humans discussing his possible fate. Humans are strange.

It's another day in Paradise. Clouds scudded across the blue expanse of sky as a fresh wind swept its broom across the earth below. The beautiful morning held breathtaking promise for most of the island's creatures - though there were exceptions.

The sharks had found something interesting . . . and tasty. What was left tumbled in the surf like a piece of driftwood before being deposited onto the shore.

Like oceangoing vultures, gulls wheeled overhead; their sharp calls announcing an opportunity to stock up before continuing their journey to a larger landmass. Being only visitors to the islands, the winged omnivores needed to fortify themselves before leaving. What lay below looked promising.

Luck being relative, the victim had been discovered by an early morning beachcomber searching the strand for interesting objects surrendered by the sea. This object was a little too interesting – to the police in particular.

Though there were no fingerprints to use for identification, (there were no fingers), the decedent's face was relatively undamaged. Standing over the body, Kono snapped a picture to run through facial rec. The program's usual use was to identify suspects caught on camera during commission of a crime. This guy's days of lawful or unlawful behavior were over but it could provide the identity of who lay in ruin on the wet sand.

Donning a pair of black nitrile gloves, Chin searched through the pockets of the victim's shredded Levis. There was no wallet, just a set of keys, a few coins and a folded piece of soggy paper. Carefully removing the water damaged sheet; he put it in a plastic evidence bag to send to the lab. They'd have to dry it a bit before it could be unfolded without tearing it.

As they waited for the CSI's to finish their examination of the most likely clueless scene, Kono gazed at the white capped Pacific. For whatever reason, she'd always found it extra sad to find someone dead on the beach. It was as though the ocean had had its way and what was left was thrown out for the earth to deal with.

Symbiotic but not necessarily friends, moana and aina would always be engaged in their struggle to best one another. With quakes and landslides the earth would assault the sea and, with tsunamis, it would retaliate. It was ever thus. Still sad though.

"Cuz, you think maybe we should call the boss and tell him about this?" asked the Hawaiian woman as the wind whipped her hair and she sought to tuck her flying locks behind an ear. "He'd probably want to know."

"Yeah, he'd be pissed we got the call and didn't notify him." reluctantly agreed Chin. "But we know how Steve is wired. He'll want to show up at the office despite doctor's orders."

"Yeah. He'll want in on this one for sure." sighed her cousin. Though not every body that landed on the island's beaches meant it was their case, this one hadn't landed within city limits. The victim had washed up miles from Honolulu on the shoreline of Ka'ena Point State Park, the western most point on the island of Oahu. This one was Five-0's for sure.

"At least Bambi's there to keep him in line." said Chin of their tough leader and his even tougher caretaker.

"Yeah." snorted Kono, "She's the only one who can intimidate him enough to do it. It's kinda cute."

"Don't let him hear you say that."

"Okay, you want to call him or you want me to do it?" asked Kono resignedly. She knew the nurse could 'bring it' when it came to dealing with her stubborn patient but maybe drugs and a baseball bat would help?

"Okay, I understand why we're taking the Smurf to the vet but why are we taking the others?"

Steve steered the big, (blue), truck along on the rapidly heating streets. Neither of the humans in the vehicle were supposed to be out and about, (let alone driving), but Steve had deemed this enough of an emergency that he would risk Bambi's wrath.

From past experience the driver was familiar with the fastest route to the veterinary clinic. Five-0's furry piranha had, more than once, been subject to the consequences of his mayhem.

"We need to be sure that none of the others licked-up the stuff Attila got into." said Steve through clenched teeth, his hands clenched nearly as tightly on the steering wheel.

Cujo clung to his usual perch on the dash while the others, (Lili and Tina in a travel carrier and Attila in a taped-shut cardboard box), rode on the back seat. The little miscreant responsible for this journey howled out his unhappiness, poking his paws through the air holes cut into his corrugated prison.

Even Cujo looked annoyed at the racket. Still, he was fine with the ride. He loved to stare out the windshield as scenery sped by – the faster the better. It was one of his favorite things to do but a trip ending at the vet's – not so much. Abruptly recognizing their destination Cujo began to growl as his human steered the rolling box across the gravel to park under the big banyan tree that shaded part of the parking area and the walkway to the clinic's entrance.

Shutting off the ignition, Steve, with the speed of a striking snake, snatched Cujo off the dash. The SEAL was the only one with quick enough reflexes to grab him by the scruff without getting mauled. With his other hand he pulled the pillowcase from where it had been tucked into the waistband of his sleep pants. Though it wasn't the usual thick nylon bag used to control the nearly uncontrollable animal, it would have to do. The cab of the Silverado was filled with what could only be the feline version of swearing and threats of dismemberment. Cujo fully intended to murder anyone he could sink his teeth into.

I smell dogs! thought the furious cat as he howled and struggled. Now I'm in the cloth thing but I will be put in a metal box close to dogs! And I can't even kill them! The humans will poke me with little metal sticks and put little round rocks in my mouth and make me swallow them! They taste awful! This is a bad place!

Using a sack was the safest method when confining their mini-puma at the veterinarian's or any other place he didn't want to be. Jamming him into a carrier was a no go unless he'd been sedated first. Without the drugs it was like trying to stuff an enraged wolverine into a hamster cage. Someone was going to get hurt.

Amy yawned as she put the last of the paperwork into the basket for the day people to deal with. It was almost time for her to go home, get some breakfast and get to bed. The new twenty-four clinic schedule would take getting used to. At least Dr. Charteris was here a little early to relieve the night vet – a guy who was great with animals but total crap with people. Actually, it was Dr. Charteris who'd thought up the 24/7 schedule; a way of expanding the business without having to actually move locations.

The tired receptionist had been given a choice of shifts but working nights and sleeping days is something she still had to get used to. At least it worked out so that she could go to afternoon classes and even catch a couple night classes on her 'days' off. She again wondered if she should rethink her career goals. Becoming a vet would take years but she couldn't come up with anything else that could be as satisfying. Of course, she could always be a vet tech like Janet and Joanie but it doesn't pay much. What those two go through on regular basis should garner them higher wages or at least canonization. Dr. Charteris pays them well but it doesn't compensate for the crap, (sometimes literal), they have to put up with from their more 'difficult' patients. The techs had told her of one particular cat who had the appearance of an angel but the heart of Satan. She hadn't had the pleasure of meeting it herself and she hoped she never would. The little shithead sounded scary. At least their owner sent chocolates as consolation for being sliced and diced.

Lost in thought, she heard a vehicle pull into the parking lot and looked up to see the blue pick-up scatter gravel as it came to an abrupt stop. Oh well, she sighed, one last patient before I'm off shift.

Two men entered the lobby. One of them carried a howling animal in a pillowcase along with a howling animal in a box. The other man leaned on a crutch and lugged a pet carrier. They looked as though they'd just fallen out of bed. The taller one was bare chested, barefoot, and wearing sleep pants - quite a pleasing sight in her opinion - while the other wore a T-shirt and cut-off sweatpants, gauze peeking out from the right leg of the grey jersey fabric.

"We might have an emergency. Not sure how serious it might be." announced the taller one as he set the howling sack carefully onto the counter then set the howling box next to it. She flinched as the bag moved about, nearly tumbling off the edge before the tall man grabbed it. Whatever was in there, (from the hideous sounds emanating from the bag it could be a Tasmanian devil), snarled and bit through the fabric into the tall man's wrist.

"OUCH! You little motherfu . . .!" yelped the man before saying, "Sorry." to the startled receptionist.

"Don't worry; I've heard worse." laughed the young woman, "Is your wrist okay?"

"Yeah, I've had worse." smiled the dark-haired man as he rubbed at the bleeding marks while the other man looked on sympathetically.

"Much worse." nodded the blonde one in agreement.

Despite his mode of dress or undress, (possibly because of it), she thought the tall man quite charming. He has a killer smile; and those eyelashes and tats! His companion is quite attractive as well; if in a slightly less 'bad boy' way.

"So, what's happening with your umm . . . cats?" asked the curious receptionist as the creatures in the sack and the box continued to howl.

The door was pushed open and Kono and Chin were surprised to see their half-dressed boss and his only slightly more clothed second-in-command enter the office.

Steve carried what looked like a pillow case and a cardboard box. Danny held a cat carrier in one hand, his single crutch in the other.

Both men looked frazzled.

Steve wordlessly set the box down on the smart table as Chin flinched at the possible misuse of his prized electronic marvel. Turning toward the nearby unused office, Steve tiredly strode to it, pushed open its door, set the sack onto the floor, loosened the knot in it, then quickly stepped back and shut the door again.

Danny had set the cat carrier onto the floor under the smart table. He opened its door and Lili and Tina emerged; cautiously looking around before recognizing familiar surroundings, then trotting off toward the kitchen.

As the cousins looked on silently, Steve returned to open the cardboard box and tip it gently onto its side. Out rolled something resembling a blue rat. Upon closer inspection of the unconscious animal, the cousins recognized it as a hairless kitten.

Though no words had been spoken – not even by Danny - the cousin's expressions said it all.

What the hell?!

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

Have a lot of the next chapter written. Steve and Danny are really going to piss-off Bambi. More will be revealed of Attila's adventure in the broom closet and the subsequent vet visit.

Thanks for reading. Would love to hear your thoughts on this.