Title: Wesley's Little Defender
Author: FerretGirl
Pairing: None
Rating: Rated for child abuse
Disclaimer: Not mine, I'm just playing with them.
Thanks to zortified for
the quick beta on the story.
Wesley's Little Defender
The light around the door was like a halo. It was the only light he had; it
wasn't much. Other then that it was completely dark. There was no sound, other
then the noises the rats made and the occasional thumping as someone went up
or down the stairs.
Wesley was scared of the rats. They had come near him on various occasions and
even bitten him a few times. He was scared to death of them, had near panic
attacks complete with the trouble to breathe and nightmares. His father had
told him that it was utter nonsense. Wesley was much bigger then those little
buggers, the boy was to grow up and be a man.
The eyes of the ten year old boy frantically darted back and forth, trying to
figure out where the next attack might come from. Not that he had anything to
thwart the attacks. He was too scared to use his hands. That was a lesson he
had learned in the past; it had ended with a nasty bite in a finger and an
inflammation of said finger to boot. Now used his feet.
Wesley could hear them coming; the rats were nearby. He swallowed down the
tears of fear that threatened to break through. Father didn't like it when he
cried. He was supposed to brave, a future watcher, a man. Crying was not
allowed, not ever.
He hated being in the closet under the stairs. The suffocating darkness. The
threatening rats. The sometimes unidentifiable noises. The footsteps of people
going up and down the stairs as if there wasn't a little ten year old boy
locked under them. But he was going to be brave, he was not going to cry. He
was going to make father proud.
He had tried so hard to learn chapter one of 'The codex of lugash demons'. But
the language was difficult and he had forgotten a word or two. The test he was
given on the Codex had ended with an enraged father, a sore back and another
'thinking about your failures session' in the closed under the stairs
Wesley's head shot up when he heard the strange hissing sound. He carefully
tried to peer into the darkness. From the corner of his eye he could see two
rats approaching. His heart was throbbing in his throat and cold sweat broke
out. As quietly and carefully as he could, he tried to scurry away from the
frightening furry little creatures.
He heard the hissing noise once again and Wesley watched with enchanted
amazement as the rats quickly made their retreat. As though they were afraid
of the hissing sound. He wondered if he, too, should be afraid of the sound.
One rat looked at him with its beady eyes as if it were warning the little
boy. But the renewed hissing sound sent it quickly running away.
Wesley craned his neck to see where the hissing sound had come from. In the
scarce light that fell from the door-frame he could see a furry creature. It
was bigger, but much thinner and longer then the rats. Wesley held his breath
as the furry creature came closer and gave him a curious look.
Wesley tilted his head to the left and stared back at the little creature. The
wheels in his analytical brain were working on overdrive as he studied the
animal. He could actually see the pages of the nature and animal books his
uncle had given him. His father had scoffed at those books. According to him
they held nothing but useless information.
"Mustela Putoris Furo," he whispered softly as if anyone could hear
him through the thick walls of the closet. "Domesticated by the ancient
Romans to keep their homes free of rats and mice, now used to hunt rabbits or
kept as pets." He carefully stretched out a hand and kept staring at the
little brown creature as if it were magical. "Commonly known as ferret."
He ended his private lecture.
The ferret suddenly jumped at Wesley and then back again, making funny noises
that sounded like it was saying dook-dook-dook very fast. It arched its back
all the way up and jumped up and down a few times, shaking its little head
from left to right. Wesley quickly snatched his hand back, afraid the ferret
would bite.
The ferret made a fake attack once again, then laid down flat on the floor and
looked at the little boy. The mischievous eyes sparkled and Wesley could
almost swear the furry creature was laughing at him when it wriggled its
little nose.
Once again Wesley could hear the rats approaching, the scratching of their
paws on the wooden floor giving them away. The ferret turned around fast and
jumped toward the sound with an almost deafening screech. The rats quickly ran
away again, leaving the ferret to smugly watch them scamper off.
Wesley froze and stared as tough hypnotized at the door. He was expecting his
father to yank it open and demand what in the bloody hell was going on here.
He waited, not moving, frozen to the spot. He could hear the ferret hissing to
the rats. He could hear the rats once again running away. But he kept staring
at the door.
Suddenly he could feel a tickling sensation on his legs. Wesley looked down
startled and saw that the ferret had come closer and was now boldly sniffling
his leg. Wesley blinked at the ferret and carefully lowered his hand to stroke
the furry body. He was surprised to find it was soft and almost silky feeling.
The little ferret crawled in his lap and laid down, curling up like a little
furry ball. Wesley was surprised at the tiny animal's courage. He smiled at
the ferret and kept on petting it. The ferret sighed happily and curled up
even further into a little ball, pushing its tiny nose Wesley's other hand.
Time passed slowly in the closet under the stairs. Wesley was cold, so cold.
He wrapped his school blazer around him closer. The ferret was now comfortably
sleeping in one of his pockets. Wesley marveled at the sight. The ferret
seemed so at ease, so peaceful and calm. It had the same soothing side effect
on Wesley.
Suddenly the door was thrown open. Wesley could actually feel the wind suction
in his ears. His hand flew protectively toward his pocket. Father stood
towering at the door, gesturing with his head that Wesley was to come out.
As fast as his cramped muscles would allow, Wesley crawled out of the small
closet and stood in front of his father, his eyes cast down at the floor. His
hand hovered over the pocket. His throat felt tight and he was hot and cold at
the same time, nervous butterflies attacked his stomach. He didn't want his
father to know about his new little friend.
"Look at me boy." The demanding tones in his fathers voice were
unmistakable. He wasn't forgiven yet...if ever.
Wesley's forced his head up to look at his father. He was trembling slightly,
and could only hope his father wouldn't notice. He swallowed down the bile
that tightened his throat.
"I'm going to test you again tomorrow and you better have all of it
memorized by then." His father crossed his arms infront of his chest and
the ice cold blue eyes bored into the little boy infront of him. "Do not
disappoint me again boy, do I make myself clear." It wasn't really a
question, it never was.
Wesley nodded fast, shuffling with his foot over the carpet. So far the little
ferret had made no sound, it was still sleeping in the pocket of his blazer.
Wesley's thoughts were so engrossed with ferret that he never saw the blow
coming. The ringing and the heat that came from his ear were the only
indications that he needed to tell that his father was once again not happy
with him.
The finger pointing at the stairs loomed over Wesley and spoke volumes. "Yes
S-sir" Wesley whispered. His shoes felt like lead, he had to squash down
the urge to drag them over the floor. That would only lead too more anger,
disappointment and lecturing from father. He was not about to ask for another
encounter with the cane. It took every effort to lift his feet and walk up the
stairs. His shoulders hunched, his head bent. His hand still hovered
protectively over the pocket that held the tiny ferret.
Once the door of his room was closed Wesley led out a sigh of relief. The room
was his safe haven, his sanctuary. Father never came to his room. If Wesley's
presence was demanded by either of his parents, they would send up a servant
to summon the boy.
Wesley carefully lifted the little ferret out of the pocket of his blazer. The
ferret was limp in his cupped hands, like a rag doll that had been carried
around too much. Wesley's eyes widened as he all but dropped the ferret on his
bed. His hand flew to his mouth and tears formed in his eyes as he looked at
the tiny creature in shock. Had it suffocated in the confinements of the
pocket?
He reached out with a trembling and carefully shook the ferret. Once, then
twice, softly. A third time with more force. Wesley dropped to his knees and
looked closer at the ferret, trying if he could see the little animal's breath.
His small finger poked the ferret once again
Wesley hadn't even noticed that he himself had stopped breathing until he let
out a sigh of relief as he watched the ferret uncurl itself. The tiny creature
yawned, showing a row of sharp teeth and four very dangerous looking fangs.
The ferret stretched its long body lazily, yawned again and then looked up at
the little boy. It scrunched up its nose as if trying to smell something. Then
it looked around and hopped off the bed, running around the room exploring the
new environment had woken up in.
Wesley sat on the bed and watched the ferret run around. Sometimes the ferret
would stop and run backward really fast, as if that were a normal thing to do.
It made funny little hops, with a highly arched back as it found something
that it didn't trust. Wesley was mesmerized by the ferret.
From the bookshelf he had pulled the book his uncle had given him. He was soon
enraptured in the chapter about ferrets. He learned that ferrets did not live
in the wild but were only domesticated animals, ferrets ate cat-food, ferrets
went to the toilet, ferrets could be used for hunting. He learned that the
ferret currently exploring his bedroom was called a sable ferret, due to its
color. Picking it up and turning it around Wesley also learned that the ferret
was female.
Wesley pondered this for a moment. He really wanted the ferret to have a name,
so it would have a personality. Father always said that names were important,
they were meant to impress people. Although the name Wyndam-Pryce was
impressive, why his parents had thought that the name 'Wesley' would impress
anyone he could not comprehend.
Wesley thought of a name. Several goddesses passed by, famous queens,
legendary woman, historical woman, until he finally settled on the name 'Alexia'.
Wesley found this a suitable name, since it meant 'defender' or 'helper',
which was exactly what the little ferret had done. She had defended and helped
Wesley against the rats in the closet under the stairs.
In the day's that followed Wesley managed to sneak a small cage up to his
room, cat-food, a small box that would serve as a toilet and several toy's.
When ever Wesley was in his room, which was a most of the time, Alexia would
be free. When Wesley was at school or doing chores for his father, the little
ferret slept in her cage. He cuddled with Alexia, played with her and told her
everything.
About his fear of the dark, about his father, about how afraid he was of
becoming a failure. He told her what he had learned in school, about what he
had learned from the demon books his father insisted he studied. He even told
her what he had eaten for dinner, or about a new game he had learned watching
the other children in school or normal day activities. Alexia usually lay in
his lap and looked at him, with those wise brown eyes. As if she understood
everything he confided in her and sympathized.
Wesley was very careful not to give away any signs that he was keeping a
secret friend in a cage under his bed. He had found out that the vague scent
of the ferret on his clothing alone scared away the rats. They rarely came to
bother him, and when they did, they never came close. It seemed that Alexia
was helping and defending Wesley when she wasn't even there. Wesley spend his
time in the closet under the stairs trying to come up with ideas for new games
he and Alexia could play. For two weeks Wesley was almost happy and carefree,
ever since he had found Alexia in the closet. Or rather when she had found him.
But Wesley's father was a smart and intelligent man. He had noticed the odd
behavior of the boy. The secret little glances, the sneaking up the stairs,
the hand held over his pocket every time he went to the garden. And then there
was this strange smell he could not quite place. It wasn't a strong smell, it
was just a smell that shouldn't be there. Wesley's father was sure Wesley was
hiding something. He was going to find out what it was and when he did the boy
was in for a very severe punishment. Little boys were not allowed to keep
secrets from their fathers, most certainly not in this household. He would
show the boy just who was the man of the house.
When he released Wesley from the closet this time he kept a close eye on him
after he had sternly lectured him about his irresponsible and once again
disappointing behavior. Wesley had nodded and stammered his agreement as usual.
The boy was such a disappointment, Wesley was nothing like the son he had
imagined raising one day. The only satisfaction he had was the fear he saw in
Wesley's blue eyes every time they looked up at him. He watched the boy slowly
make his way toward the stairs and then, when he thought his father was not
watching, nearly skip up the stairs to his bedroom.
Wesley's father waited half an hour before walking up the stairs toward his
son's bedroom. He wanted the boy to feel safe first, that way he was sure the
secret would be out in the open when he would go to the boy's room. Without
knocking, he threw the door to the boy's bedroom open and his eyes glanced
across the room, before finally resting on the boy sitting on the bed.
Wesley froze as his father entered his room. This was not supposed to happen.
The room was his safe haven, his sanctuary. Alexia had jumped up at the sound
and was standing infront of him on the bed, hissing at his father as if the
ferret knew the danger the man meant to the little boy. He snatched out his
hand to pick up the ferret and protect her from his father.
His father, however, was faster. Wesley could only watch helplessly as Alexia
was yanked off the bed and held by the scruff of her neck by his father.
"What is this? An animal! A filthy rodent! You know what I think about
animals in the house!" His father shook the ferret with bruising force.
Alexia dangled in his hand, her body going in odd curves trying to get herself
freed from the hand that was hurting her.
His father was actually yelling this time. Fear surged through Wesley's body
as he stood up, trembling, and searched his brains for the right words, words
that would save Alexia, that would allow him to keep the ferret. "But
Alexia is not b-b-bothering anyone." Wesley tried softly, "I'm
taking good c-c-care of her, she's very clean and she can stay in my r-room
father, I promise you will n-not even notice her." Wesley flew backward
against the wall when his father hit him. He could feel blood trickle down his
lip. Fearfully he looked up at his father, who was still shaking Alexia.
The little ferret craned her flexible neck and managed to latch on to a finger
that came too close to her yaws. Wesley would always swear, afterwards, that
the little ferret had grinned when his father yelped out in pain.
"We do not keep animals in this house, boy! And most certainly not filthy,
dangerous ones like these!" The hand that had struck Wesley came up fast
and the next thing that Wesley heard was the sickening crack of bones. Alexia
went limp in his fathers hands, her head lolling on her neck oddly. His father
tossed the ferret on the bed as if she were nothing but filthy rag.
Tears sprang in Wesley's eyes as he realised that Alexia was no more. His
father had killed his only friend, his defender, his helper, his only joy in
this miserable live. Rage boiled in little Wesley as he jumped to his feet.
His small fists slamming into his fathers body. "Murderer! You killed
her! You killed Alexia!"
The blood that came out of his nose was flowing sluggishly down his chin,
dirty tears smugged his cheeks and small fists kept raining on his fathers
body. His throat started to hurt from screaming. Through his anger he didn't
even feel his father hitting him over and over again, until Wesley fell on the
ground unable to get up again. His body and spirit just as broken as the
glasses that were laying next to him on the floor.
His father towered over him and hit him once again. "You will get rid of
that filthy beast right now. Go downstairs and throw it in the rubbish bin
outside. Do not defy me again, boy!" With that his father turned on the
balls of his feet and stalked out of the room.
Wesley crawled over to the bed and looked at the broken body of Alexia. He
wiped his nose and carefully reached out to pet her. She was still warm. If
her head weren't bent completely backward he could have pretended that she was
sleeping. He pulled himself on the bed and took Alexia in his lap, positioning
her as if she were sleeping. He rocked back and forth sobbing silently,
cradling the limp and broken body of the tiny ferret that had been his only
friend to his chest.
2003 by FerretGirl