Another update!

Warning: Character Death. D8

Comfort

Another hot day in Nowhere. Courage watched as Muriel climbed into the truck after the man in the suit. She was crying an awful lot, and the little pink dog desperately wanted to help her. But he hurt, and he was tired. He didn't want to move-couldn't move very well anyway. He was just so very tired.

Eustace wasn't present, having died in the middle of last year of old age. Courage hadn't exactly been sad, but he hadn't been happy either. He'd been there to console Muriel, though. He was always there for her, no matter what. Except for now.

He hurt so much, and Muriel was driving away already. There was nothing he could do. He didn't even really want to stand. What he wanted was to be able to know that she would be alright on her own with that man. She hadn't told him where they were going, hadn't waved when they'd driven off. It hurt him to know that she was so distraught, but that only reminded him just how little he could do.

Slowly, the dog lifted himself onto shaky legs, whining when his side jerked with pain. He wanted her to carry him like she always did. He wanted to sit with her in the rocking chair and relax, try to forget the pain, maybe try to sleep while she watched the TV. He'd even take Eustace sitting there next to him, if only things would be alright again.

"I can't do that to my Courage!" she'd sobbed to the man from the kitchen. Courage could just hear them from the front yard, where he was trying to relax on the too-hot soil. The man in the suit had said something quietly.

The small dog limped towards the house. His back legs didn't work correctly anymore, and didn't want to move when he told them to. He whimpered again at the prospect of going up the stairs, but grit his teeth, and dealt with it. Just going up one step tired him so much. He almost wanted to just lay down and sleep for a while. The wood had been in shade, it was a little cooler than the ground had been.

"Ohh, but I don't want to see it! I just don't know what to do," she'd broken down. The small dog had wanted so much to go to her, and had whined with the effort of standing. He didn't trust that man. Didn't trust anyone. More quiet talking from the man in the suit.

Courage had conquered the front steps, and nosed the door open, sighing when he saw the steps up to the second floor. And then there were the steps up to the attic. He closed his eyes again, his chest hurting and his side throbbing. The first step was pain, the second was worse, and by the time he reached the top he was in agony. Somehow he managed to go on, and found himself in the attic, slowly making his way to the Computer.

"I suppose...if it's best," she had murmured, and then they left, Muriel sobbing too hard to drive. The man had offered, and Courage growled. That was Eustace's truck. Only Eustace or Muriel were to drive it. But he was ignored.

Booting the computer up didn't take long, and soon Courage was greeted with his British voice.

"Looking a bit long in the face," he said, and Courage whined again, one long, high pitched one as he climbed onto the bucket on the chair. He sighed as he tried to lay down to get the weight off of his haunches, and tried to type.

'mn inn sute'

"I can't understand your gibberish," the Computer complained, slightly put out by the dog's attitude. Of course, he was partially aware of what was going on, and tried to sympathize with the poor thing. He took on a slightly kinder tone, "Do try to spell better."

Courage tried again, typing much slower this time.

'man in sute took muriel. she cried.'

"Man in a suit? Oh my, sounds serious," the Computer drawled, but cleared his throat, "How are you feeling, my canine fellow?" He asked, a sense of dread falling over him. It was only strengthened when Courage whined even louder, then sighed again, his eyes closing.

"It'll be alright, chap. Perhaps a relative was sick," he said, watching the old dog closely. He was dying, that was for sure. By the looks of his swollen left side it was cancer. He'd probably already gone into the final stages, the tumor spreading all down his side, making it nearly impossible for him to use his hind legs. The Computer was slightly in awe that he'd made it up to the attic.

He was also somewhat sad. Courage was the only one he'd had to talk to all these years, and him dying was such a shame, and at such a young age too. There were dogs who lived to be much older than he was, but here he was being taken from the world early. Muriel wouldn't come up here to use him, and once Courage was gone, he'd have no one again. He'd be all alone, cut off from everyone.

"It'll be alright. You'll be alright."

And he wasn't only talking to Courage.

Daww, poor Computer. Poor Courage. This one is rather angsty, isn't it? I think I made it go on for a bit too long, but it's depressing all the same. Please tell me what you think! Constructive critisism is always welcome!