~oOo~

'And the wild things roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth and rolled their terrible eyes and showed their terrible claws.'

Blair was angry, just as angry as the little boy in the book who had been sent to his room for wanting to eat up his mother. And, like the little boy who had become the king of the monsters, Blair knew that he was also the king of his beasts. But, unlike the monsters in the little boy's dream, his monsters – Bagheera, Rahma and the cougar he'd named Socks – were real, and they could do some real gobbling up if they wanted to. But that's where the similarities to the story ended, because his monsters were doing nothing to help Lucas. He'd tried talking to them nicely, he'd tried growling and wagging his finger at them, and he'd even tried staring into their yellow eyes without blinking and commanding that the rumpus begin, but they hadn't moved an inch. Not even Rahma, his most trusted of monsters.

"Well," Blair huffed, angrily. "If you not going to do anything to help Lucas, I will." Jumping down from the sofa, he was well aware of the danger of going into the bedroom, but at the moment, he was so cross he didn't care. Lucas was being hurt and it seemed that nobody but him was going to help.

Giving the animal spirits one last angry glare, Blair quietly padded across the room. He could still clearly see in his mind the man with the black eyes as he threw the blanket at his head, and he could still hear the man's voice as he was told not to move from the couch or he'd gut Lucas like a pig. But the horrible sounds that had come from behind the bedroom door earlier stirred up an even deeper, uglier memory. He knew what was going on and he knew how much it hurt. Lucas was brave, but the needle the man had given him earlier in the night had also made him sick. Now it was his turn to be as brave for his brother as his brother had been for him.

Reaching the door, Blair grasped the handle firmly, turning it, little by little, until it clicked. Easing the door open, he stopped when it creaked noisily on its hinges. Listening intently, and relieved when the loud snoring didn't stop, he mustered up even more courage and continued to push on the door until there was enough space for him to squeeze into the room. Even though it was dark, the moon shining through the window gave sufficient light for him to seek out Lucas. His breathing hitched and he struggled not to make a sound at the sight that confronted him. Turned on his side and so close to the edge of the bed that he was nearly falling off, Lucas lay completely exposed. He had no clothes on, and neither did the other two men in the bed.

Blair jumped when a whisper drifted across the room.

"Lucas," Blair whispered back cautiously.

"Blair, go," Lucas rasped again.

"No." Stubbornly he moved quickly to Lucas's side, not caring about the consequences of being caught. "Are you still sick?" he asked.

"Sport," Lucas tried again. "You have to go ... you have to get out of here while you have the chance." He closed his eyes briefly as his world once again tilted and his stomach rolled. "Please go."

Blair softly caressed Lucas's bruised cheek with the pads of his fingers. "They asleep, Lucas. You get up and get dressed and then you can come with me. Then we can both find Daddy."

"Blair, I can't."

The youngster tugged on his brother's arm. "Yes, you can." He tugged harder. "Please Lucas, get up."

"Hey, hey," Despite the impossibly heavy feeling that weighted his limbs, Lucas reach out and clumsily cupped Blair's cheek, trying to steady the child's growing agitation. Although his dad was doped up to the gills and his uncle drunk as the proverbial skunk, if Blair became too upset and too loud, the noise would no doubt bring Robert out of his stupor. "You know I love you more than anything in the world, don't you?"

Blair nodded.

"And you know that I'd do ... do anything to protect you, but I can't go with you, Blair. You have to do this by yourself."

"Why?" Blair asked. He knew that Lucas was sick and seemed to be having trouble talking and moving, but if he tried, tried hard just for a minute, he could get out of bed and they could go and hide in the woods until he was feeling better. He didn't even have to get dressed if he didn't want to. They could take the blanket from the sofa and wrap it around him to keep him warm until they found Daddy. "Why won't you come?" Blair pressed again, not understanding why Lucas wouldn't at least try.

"Because, I can't." Lucas moved his arm, which was hidden beneath a pillow. His handcuffed wrist clinked softly against the metal framework of the bed head.

Blair's eyes widened. He recognised his daddy's handcuffs instantly, and he was certain he could help. He bounced on his toes, anxious to put voice to the information he knew. "I know where the key is, Lucas!" he said a little too loudly. "I sure I know where it is."

Clumsy fingers touched the youngster's lips. "Shhh," Lucas mumbled.

Becoming more aware of the danger they faced, Blair looked over to make sure the two men were still fast asleep. His mind was still racing with information and he leaned closer to whisper in Lucas's ear. "I know I not supposed to play in Daddy's truck, but one day when Daddy was mowing the lawn, Rahma and I 'cided we'd go to California to see the seals, but it's a long, long way to California and we got bored and that's when we founded Daddy's two handcuffs." He wrapped his arm around Lucas's neck. "They have a key, Lucas. A key we can use to rescue you and I know they work 'cause I tried it on both of them."

Lucas was becoming more and more slumberous as the minutes ticked by. "Sport, no. The keys aren't there anymore. Robert ... Robert took them when he found the handcuffs. Just go, get outta here."

Blair dug in his heels. There was no way he was leaving his brother behind. "Maybe they in his pants. Daddy always puts his keys in his pants." Spying a rumpled pair of jeans on the floor, Blair unlatched himself from Lucas's neck. "I will go look."

"No." With newfound energy Lucas grabbed Blair's arm in a tight grip. "They're not there."

"Where are they then?" Blair asked. "They have to be somewhere, Lucas."

"Root cellar." It was barely a mumble, but it was enough for Blair to decipher. "But leave them be ... too dangerous." And with that, Lucas's hand slipped from Blair's arm and his eyes drifted shut.

"It okay, Lucas," Blair whispered as he leaned down and placed a kiss on the teenager's cheek. "You have a nap and I will find the key. I will be brave for us both." With a final look to make sure the men were still asleep, Blair slipped from the room, nearly tripping over Rahma as he did so. "I are still very, very cross at you," he admonished. "And you will be very lucky if I not send you to bed without any dinner." He ignored the pup's whimper and headed determinedly over toward the door that led to the cellar. He didn't need to turn around to know that the wolf was hot on his heels, exactly where he always was and where he should always be.

Unlike the boy in the book, Blair's littlest of monsters didn't live where the wild things lived. His monster lived in his world and he knew that his world was a world where he and Lucas were loved the best of all.

~oOo~

The root cellar was dark and dank and the feeble moonlight that filtered in through the barred window was barely enough for Blair to get his bearings. The light bulb which hung from the ceiling was out of his reach, so he had to try hard to remember the layout of the room from when he'd been locked down there earlier with Lucas.

Taking the stairs one by one on the seat of his pants, Blair relied on Rahma to be his eyes. "Can you see the key?" he asked.

The pup pitter-pattered around the room, nose to the ground, pacing back and forth as he tried to sniff out what he knew they were looking for. On the hunt and zigzagging across the room in a frantic, erratic manner, the little wolf finally found his target. The scent that wafted down from the high shelf above his head was distinctive and had been ingrained into him from the very moment Robert Wilder had become known to his pack. Scratching wildly at the wooden door of the hutch, he let out a small yelp and waited for his human to come to his side.

"Did you finded it?" Blair asked. Stumbling through the dark, he could just make out the outline of Rahma's body and held out both his hands in front of him until they came in contact with the silky grey fur.

"Did you, Rahma?" Blair asked again.

A lick to his face was the youngster's answer.

"You did!" Blair squealed. "Good puppy." Getting down on his knees, Blair patted the cold, hard-packed dirt with the palm of his hands, searching for the key.

The pup butted the child's face with his muzzle before taking to his hind legs and scratching higher up on the face of the hutch with his front paws. Realisation hit Blair. The key wasn't on the ground, it was on the hutch – a hutch which had shelves that were well out of his reach.

Flopping down, hard on his bottom, Blair dejectedly buried his face in his hands. The hutch was tall and he was too short. His fingers couldn't even reach the big table-part, let alone the stack of shelves that sat on top of that. Angry with himself for failing Lucas and for always being so small, he kicked out, his sneaker clad foot coming into contact with one of the doors on the lower section of the cabinet. The door made a popping sound, before swinging open to reveal three rickety lower shelves – shelves he could use to clamber up higher.

With an idea now in his head, Blair sprang to his feet and set his plan into immediate action. One by one he climbed the shelves exactly the same way he climbed the ladder on his tree-house at home. Hand, foot, hand, foot until his hand reached the lip of the hutch's countertop.

He was above eye level now, but the third shelf didn't quite give him enough height to enable him to pull himself up. Straining to see and groping around blindly with one hand, Blair's fingertips came into contact with nothing but a few old cans and the rough, scratched surface of the wooden top. "I need to go higher, Rahma," he puffed, but his feet were already on the highest shelf. Looking back down, he spied the open door and wondered if he could use that for leverage. Balancing as best he could, he took one foot off the shelf and used it to hook the side of door and drag it back toward the hutch. Letting out a sigh when he successfully achieved his task, he lifted and placed his foot on the very top of the doorframe. With a big breath and a small grunt, he hoisted himself up. But, while it gave him the additional height he needed, the frame was not strong enough to hold his entire weight. He heard the wood splinter as the hinges started to break free from the door and he frantically clawed at the wood, trying to get enough purchase to hold on. Despite his best efforts, it didn't help; the door was breaking and he was falling. With a final attempt to keep from going down, he swung his feet back toward the shelves, but his arms weren't strong enough to hold him up. Down was inevitable and he was on his way when his foot suddenly struck something solid. The object beneath him moved and, instead of falling further he could feel himself being pushed up.

It took Blair a few seconds to realise what was happening; his foot was touching Rahma's head and the pup was trying to stand up as high as it could on its hind quarters. "Push, Rahma!" he cried out, still grabbing at the bench top. "Push!" Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, Blair was chest level with the countertop and he had enough strength in his upper body to pull himself up over the edge. Huffing and puffing, he rested his cheek against the wood, while his arm flopped down over the side. Excited licks tickled his fingers and Blair smiled down at his puppy. "You are the bestest monster in the whole, wide world," he said. "And I not never get cross at you again.

The pup dropped down on all fours and spun around, chasing his tail in a lively burst of energy. His world and his destiny may have existed on the spirit plain, but his heart and soul were firmly attached to the little boy who loved him the most.

A clattering of a tin falling from above quelled the pup's enthusiasm and he stopped suddenly. Pulling up, a little dizzy and uncoordinated, he stumbled sideways before looking up. Fear was rolling off the child and confirmed what the pup's sensitive ears had already heard. There was movement up above, and it was headed toward the main room of the cabin.

Blair's first reaction to the noise was to jump down and hide and to be as quiet as a mouse, but his concern for Lucas's welfare had grown stronger than his own survival instinct. The black-eyed man had said that he'd gut Lucas like a pig if he moved from the sofa, and while he wasn't really sure what gutting a pig entailed, he knew it certainly wouldn't be good.

"Where is it, Rahma?" Blair asked urgently, his voice breaking with fear that he was having trouble containing.

The wolf pup moved toward the far side of the cabinet and, placing his front paws against the door, he let out another small yelp.

Moving in Rahma's direction, Blair patted the shelf with his hand, frantically searching for the key. His fingers ran over nuts and bolts and what felt like a pile of dead cockroaches, but nothing that even resembled what he was looking for.

"Rahma!" he cried out again, "where is it?"

And then the child's fingers touched something small and cold and smooth, which felt very much like a key.

"I got it, Rahma, I got it!" Wrapping his fingers tightly around the key with no intention of losing it or letting it go, Blair quickly sat down and wiggled his backside forward so he was near the very edge of the hutch. Climbing down would not only take a certain amount of skill, but it would take time, whereas jumping might hurt, but it would get him to the ground a whole lot quicker. The choices open to Blair were crystal clear and, without a second thought, he pushed himself off. His knees crumpled as he hit the ground and his upper body fell forward, smashing his chin into the dirt. It stung and his eyes clouded with tears but he wasn't going to cry, because in the palm of the hand he could still feel the one thing that made the pain worthwhile – Lucas's rescue.

With no time to think about his throbbing chin and with the wolf pup tugging on his t-shirt, Blair scrambled to his feet. He couldn't hear the sound of footsteps anymore and, keeping this in mind, he climbed the stairs very cautiously and very quietly. Poking his nose around the door frame, and with Rahma squeezed between his legs doing the exact same thing, Blair immediately saw the huge figure of the black-eyed man standing just outside the front door, relieving himself on the porch.

The splashing sound of urine hitting the wooden deck stopped all too soon; too soon for Blair to make it back across the room and to the sofa without being seen. Not knowing what else to do, and with images of Lucas and pigs running through his head, Blair wondered if he should make a noise to gain the man's attention. If he got him angry enough, then maybe the man would forget about Lucas and concentrate on him. He'd been hit before and, although it would hurt, it probably wouldn't be any worse than when Tom thrashed him with a coat hanger.

Shoving his hand deep into the pocket of his shorts, Blair let go of the key and, with a shaky breath he lifted his foot from the very last stair and planted it on the floorboards. Before he had a chance to let the man know that he was no longer on the sofa, Rahma shot out from under him and ran full pelt toward the front door. A split second later, a yelp of fright rang out and something clattered against the porch. With the man's back still facing him, Blair took the opportunity that Rahma had created and bolted across the room, diving onto the sofa and pulling the blanket up over this head. Without so much as even one single breath to break the silence, he huddled in a tight, small ball, hoping and praying that he wouldn't be noticed.

After a lot of swearing and cursing, the front door finally closed and a tirade of irate mutterings about mutant rodents and shotguns reverberated throughout the room. Blair didn't think the man would bother to notice him because he was being so quiet, but he was wrong. Just as he thought he was home free, the muttering stopped, right next to the sofa. Fearing what was coming, he squeezed his eyes shut and tried desperately not to flinch when a hand touch the small of his back. He remained deathly still as it lingered for a brief moment before pulling away. Footsteps started up again and the bedroom door clicked shut with a loud bang. The black-eyed man had gone.

Daring to expel the air that he'd been holding in his lungs, Blair peeked out from under the blanket. He may have been alone, but Lucas wasn't, and there was no chance of getting the key to him until the snoring started up again.

Feeling lost and a little sick as the adrenaline rush he'd experienced rapidly began to wane, Blair pulled his knees to his chest. A small, wet nose nudged its way into the wedge of his body and he dropped his legs down, giving the pup full access to his lap. Wrapping his arms around Rahma's neck he buried his face in the pup's fur. After being brave for so very long, Blair could no longer hold back his tears. All he wanted was his daddy to come back and take them both away from this place. If his daddy was here, then Lucas wouldn't be sick anymore.

If his daddy was here, then the bed behind the door would stop squeaking and Lucas would no longer have to be brave.

~oOo~