TJs parents were used to him coming home with strays.

It started when he was 14 or 15, and he came home with three kittens in a soaked box that he found in the rain. They appreciated how caring he was for animals, but that didn't mean he was going to turn their house into a zoo.

And he was fine with that, and always took them to the animal shelter after a day or two. Besides, it's not like he went out looking for strays. He just seemed to run across them a lot.

ZZZ

"He scares us half to death and all he says is 'don't follow me'!"

While TJ split off from them, the remaining five headed to Vince's place, since it was the closest.

"He could at least be thankful that we were worried he would fall," Spinelli said. "We watch him cutting and he acts annoyed that we think he's about to off himself? What the fuck else were we supposed to think?!"

"We have to keep in mind that we're dealing with someone who's sense of safety is skewed, to say the least," Gretchen said. "If he's willing to insert needles into his neck, then it makes sense that he wouldn't see standing over the edge of a bridge as dangerous."

Great. Just another layer in this mess that they were trying to figure out. Still, it was kind of reassuring that he cared about something and wasn't completely cold to everyone and everything around him. The five of them at around in silence, trying to think of where to go from here.

"Is he, you know, okay to be around animals?" Gus asked, breaking the silence. "I-I'm not trying to say TJ would hurt them, but, you know, considering what we know now. . ."

". . .Nah. No. He wouldn't. I mean, why would he bother saving them?" said Vince. "If you want, we could go over to his house in the morning."

ZZZ

The five kittens he found under the bridge were up and munching away at some wet food he kept under the kitchen sink. By now there was always some food and basic supplies around the house when he found strays like this.

The little things had eat voraciously when he got them home last night and settled down next to the warm water bottle he placed next to them. It was a good thing he found them when he did. They could've drowned.

One of them found his pajama bottoms particularly interesting and started chewing on the fabric.

It was 8 AM. On a Sunday. The shelter didn't open until 10.

All things considered they looked to be in good shape. No ear mites or fleas, no sign of respiratory problems, they looked to be a healthy weight. . .but someone still left them to die.

Sometimes TJ couldn't stand people.

The five of them entertained themselves with the few toys he had for them, as well with playing with each other. It hasn't been 24 hours since he found them and their little personalities were already shining through.

There was a tap at his window. He looked away from the kittens to see who it was, and who else would it be but the five of them.

"What?" He asked

"Can we come in?"

He rolled his eyes, but still went downstairs to let them in through the back. Better to deal with their questions now, than later. Luckily when he returned, the kittens hadn't found their way off the blanket.

"See, Gus? They're fine," Mikey whispered to him.

"Do you bring home strays often?" Gretchen asked. TJ nodded and sat back down on the floor. One of the calicos, the same one that though his pajama bottoms were a decent snack, decided he was perfect for climbing. He waved a feather toy for the others to play with. When the five of them sat around the blanket, a few kittens meowed and investigated by sniffing them.

"Hey, this one reminds me of Stella," Mikey said. He picked up the only tuxedo kitten in the bunch. It's fur was of varying lengths, due to it having so many mats. TJ had tried to comb them out, but after seeing the pain it caused, he grabbed a pair of clippers and cut them out.

"What ever happened to Stella?" Gus asked.

"She had to be put down," said Mikey. "She was actually really sick, and the vet couldn't help her."

While the others talked among themselves, TJ's attention was on his phone. He sent quick text to one of the workers at the shelter letting them know to expect 5 new animals as soon as they opened. And since he's going down there he might as well help out, even if he didn't work that day. The dogs always needed walking, especially the bigger ones. Not like he was going anything else today.

Hell, if the five people in front of him were going to follow him all day, he might be able to trick them into helping out.

The kitten on his shoulder decided it was time to come down and join his siblings. A few shaky steps down and it lost it's footing, slipping, and sinking it's claws into his forearm as it dropped to the carpet. It left behind a long and considerably deep cut.

"Shit, shit, fucking shit!" He swore, gripping his arm. TJ placed the kitten back with the others before rushing to the attached bathroom.

"Geez. You've got some claws on you, little guy." Vince picked up the offending kitten, who meowed in response.

"For someone who cuts himself, you'd think a little cat scratch wouldn't bother him," Spinelli said. One kitten tugged on her shoelace.

". . . That's a good point," said Gretchen. "Maybe it was particularly deep wound?"

The topic of their conversation came out of the bathroom holding a paper towel to his arm. TJ pulled out the box from under his bed and shuffled through for the bandages.

"Hey, Teej-"

"Stop calling me that," he said, cutting Vince off. "What?"

"How could that cat scratch hurt you when you cut yourself up on a regular basis?" Spinelli asked bluntly. "I mean, you should be used to it, right?"

"It's different," he said. Once he was satisfied with covering up the wound, he turned his attention back to the kittens, a cat nail clipper in hand.

"It can't be that different," she said, folding her arms. "A cut is a cut."

"It is." He started with the calico responsible for his new cut. After wiping away the few drops of blood on its claws, he carefully snipped off the tips.

"How?"

"I wasn't expecting it, for one," he said. "And I would never use an animal for that. That's sick."

"Oh, so that's sick, but you doing it to yourself isn't?"

"Yep."

They were taking to getting their nails trimmed well. He was used to cats being fussy about it. While they weren't used to the feeling afterwards, they were doing a lot better than he expected.

"I'm taking them to the shelter, so if you all could leave, that'd be great," said TJ.

"I can give you a ride, if you want. That way they won't have to be in the cold," Vince offered.

TJ closed his eyes. He was going to grab a box, stuff it full of blankets and carry them in it with the top closed. He didn't want to be in an enclosed space with these people more than necessary, but the kittens have been out in the cold long enough, so he's willing to suck it up for their benefit.

"Thanks," he said.

ZZZ

The animal shelter smelled like, well, animals. While TJ told hem that they could drive away and leave when they arrived, the five of them, maintaining their persistent intrusion on his life, insisted on coming in.

The six of them could hear dogs barking from the kennels further in the building. TJ carried the box to the counter.

"Are these the kittens you texted me about?" The girl behind the counter asked.

"Yeah." TJ opened the top. "They don't have fleas but you should give them the medication just in case."

He held up one of the kittens for her to see.

"Aww, so cute! I can't believe someone would just abandoned them like that," the girl said. "They'll get adopted by the end of the week, I bet. I'll get them settled in."

"Do any of the dogs need to be walked?" He asked.

"Nah, we have a bunch of people who need to do community service taking care of that," she said. "You don't even work today, but if you want you can go feed the guinea pigs."

While she took the box back to where the cats were housed, he headed further into the shelter.

"You work here?" Gus asked. TJ nodded. "Why?"

"I don't have to deal with people," he said, leading the way. "Animals are easier."

As the sounds from the barking dogs lowered, they reached another room. Two identical cages were on opposite walls, with a second 'floor' giving the guinea pigs scampering inside extra room.

"If you're going to follow me all day, then you can help." TJ opened a nearby fridge. As soon as he did, the room was filled with the squeaks of the small animals. "Come help me get the food ready."

Between the six of them, cutting up the different fruits and vegetables was made into a quick task. Lettuce, tomatoes, green peppers, bananas, cucumbers, the list was seemingly endless. But the task that would take him a solid 30 minutes was cut short.

He kneeled down at the large cage, and the guinea pigs ran up to the edge where he was, waiting for their snack. He started handing them pieces of fruits and vegetables before they ran into their huts with them, being greedy little pigs true to their name.

How he could be so gentle with animals but so cruel to himself, they were having trouble understanding. It wasn't like they expected TJ to be killing small animals in his spare time or anything, but the difference in how he treats himself and how he treats the animals was hard to ignore.

"Do they have names?" Mikey asked, joining him in front of the cage. TJ nodded.

"That one, the one trying to get this piece of eggplant," he said. They all were trying to get something to eat, but a white guinea pig with a tuft of brown fur on its head stood out when he held out a slice of eggplant. "His name is Menlo."

"Menlo?"

"Mm-hmm. He likes his hut to stay clean, and squeaks the most when the cage is too dirty," said TJ. He gave the veggie to the small animal and it ran off with it. He continued to list them off as he handed out the food. A gray, curly furred pig named Muriel who liked grapes but didn't like any of the other guinea pigs except for a small dark furred one named Weems that sat next to her. A dark brown long haired pig named Petey who's favorite hut was on the second floor of the cage. The smallest light brown girl named Theresa who liked to chew on the chewible log huts scattered around. A tri colored pig named Gordy who snatched the food out of his hands particularly fast and ran off with it even faster.

Considering how difficult it was to get him to talk, hearing him talk about the names and personalities of guinea pigs was refreshing.

"There's one more, but she's new and shy," he said. It took a bit of searching, but he spotted the golden furred pig hiding in the farthest hut. "I haven't named her yet. I think she likes cucumbers."

Just to see, he placed a piece of said vegetable near her hiding spot. It took a few minute before she came out, grabbed it, and ran back in.

"Yeah, she likes them," he smiled. "I think I'll name her Cindy."

Well.

Seeing him smile was something new. Even if it wasn't towards them, it was still something.