Arc One: Zillah, My Shadow
Chapter Two: Don't Look Back
Prompt: 060 Drink
Summary: In which Don reflects on how Zillah came to become his confidante.
-ZMS-
Don wandered the hospital grounds in a daze. Terry had finally convinced him that he shouldn't be working the case, and should be with his brother. Charlie, however, was still in ICU and unable to have visitors. So he'd gone to help Alan get Zillah back.
Now, Alan and Don took turns sitting in the waiting room while the other walked the grounds with the large dog. She wasn't allowed in the building, and neither Eppes was willing to leave her shut up in the car all day.
Don looked down at the large dog, to see her looking back up at him. Her amber eyes reflected his own sadness, and he smiled a little in recollection. It was a far cry from how she'd looked at him the first time they'd met.
-ZMS-
"Thanks for coming back, Donnie," Alan enveloped his eldest in a hug.
"Hey Dad," Don had barely made it out of his car before the bone-crushing embrace. He was glad to see his father, but regretted the circumstances. "Where is everyone?"
"Your mother's at the hospital," Alan looked down. "She insisted on going by herself, said I should be here to welcome you home." Don sighed and shook his head. His mother was nothing if not stubborn.
"And Charlie?" There was a hint of resignation in Don's voice. He hadn't seen his little brother for years, hadn't even spoken to him for nearly six months.
"Garage," a shadow passed over Alan's face. Don raised an eyebrow in curiosity, but his father just shrugged it off. "He's… he's been out there a lot lately. Zillah's keeping watch though."
"Yeah," Don followed Alan around the side of the house. He'd heard tales of the dog Charlie had brought back from England. A small part of him was a little resentful of that – when he'd found a stray puppy at the age of ten, his parents had made him take it to the pound. He knew that this was a juvenile response, and tried his best to shake it off.
They stepped into view of the garage door, and Don froze. Lying in front of the door like an oversized draft-breaker was what looked like an oversized wolf.
"Dad… that's Zillah?" The creature raised its head as Alan approached, and its tail thumped against the ground. Don thought he could feel the ground shake underneath him – though that could be his overactive imagination.
"Yeah, that's her." Alan crossed the remaining distance and scratched Zillah's ears. Her tail wagged again at the attention, though she kept a wary eye on the stranger.
"Uh, no, Dad," Don shook his head. "That's not a dog. That's a hell-hound. Where'd he get a creature like that?"
Alan chuckled as Zillah stretched, then stood and licked his hand.
"Trust me Donnie, she's a dog. A very loyal and smart dog. Come say hi."
Don sighed and started forward, then paused at a look from Zillah. The dog didn't look keen to befriend him. Alan noticed, and tapped her on the top of her head.
"Don't be like that, Zillah. It's Donnie, he's part of the family." Zillah whimpered a little, then moved forward to investigate. Don kept still, not wanting to give the hell-hound an excuse to attack him. She finished circling and sniffing, then returned to flop down in front of the garage, back to guarding.
Don let out a smile. Apparently she didn't view him as a threat. It was, however, easy to see why his parents had let Charlie keep her. Don wouldn't want to try forcing her to do anything either.
-ZMS-
Months passed, and Don and Zillah gradually grew accustomed to each other. The dog rarely left Charlie, but didn't seem to mind Don's presence in the house. Charlie, on the other hand, refused to leave the garage. That made Don angrier and angrier, until he thought he might burst with the effort of not showing his mother just how upset he was.
Then Margaret finally lost her battle and slipped away forever, and the dam of emotions Don had locked up burst.
He wasn't sure how, but he made it back home from the hospital in one piece. Alan was still there, he'd been so distraught over the past few days that he hadn't been treating himself properly, and had been admitted for observation. Don was just coming home to get him some clean clothes, and then he'd go straight back.
That was until he saw the light on in the garage.
Before he could come to his senses and think calmly, Don had thrown open the door and advanced on his little brother in a rage.
"What the hell are you doing out here?" He growled, making Charlie jump and shy away from him. "What the hell is so important that you wasted the last months of our mother's life?"
"P vs. NP," Charlie whispered, and tried to go back to it, but Don was having none of it.
"It's rubbish!" He yelled, and snatched the chalk out of Charlie's hand. "It's nothing! Just scribbles on a blackboard!"
"It's not nothing, Don," Charlie spoke quietly, head bowed. "Solving this would be the most significant breakthrough-"
"It's bullshit!" Don screamed, grabbing Charlie by the front of the shirt. "You hear me? You just don't get it! Mum's dead, and you wasted your last chance with her!" He slammed Charlie into the blackboard with all his strength. "She's dead, Charlie, she's not coming back!" He was about to shove Charlie again, or maybe punch him this time, when a sound from behind froze his blood.
"Rrrrrrrrrr…"
Don slowly turned his head, to see Zillah standing in the doorway. Her hackles were up, making her seem larger than usual. Her teeth were bared, eyes trained on Don, and he knew in a moment of certainty that if Charlie said the word, his throat would be torn out in seconds. He swallowed hard while he still had the use of his neck.
The world seemed to stand still, and an eternity passed before Don regained the presence of mind to let go of Charlie. Slowly he stepped back, away from his brother, and the growling diminished. Charlie sank to the floor, and whispered Zillah's name.
The change was remarkable. Zillah's hackles went down and her growls changed to soft whimpers. She trotted over to her master and sat in front of him, then began licking his face. Charlie remained motionless for a while, then leaned forward, put his arms around the dog and buried his face in the ruff of her neck.
Don turned to leave, disgusted by his own actions. He'd laid hands on his brother in anger, and he'd never forgive himself for it.
-ZMS-
The night after the funeral, Don sat on the front steps of the family home. He'd finished one beer already, and was partway through the second when he felt another presence nearby. He couldn't be bothered turning to see who it was. After a few seconds, Zillah stepped into view and sat next to him. Don gave a wry smile – like this, she was taller than he was.
Don drained the rest of his beer and turned to look at the dog, and a brief burst of laughter escaped him. She was holding a fresh bottle of beer in her jaws.
"Thanks, Zillah," Don whispered as he took the bottle, without bothering to wonder how she'd gotten it in the first place. She looked at him expectantly, and he quickly looked around. Ah, there was one of her water dishes. He tipped it out onto the ground, then poured some of the beer so that the dog could drink as well.
"Cheers girl," Don clinked the bottle to the side of the dish, and both started drinking. Once she'd finished her beer, Zillah climbed back up to sit next to Don, and waited. After an eternity – or maybe two minutes – Don started speaking.
"I never meant to hurt him," he whispered. "I swear it. I was just so mad… he was always closer to Mum than I was, and she needed him. But he couldn't drag himself away from those damn boards long enough to even say goodbye. Not even long enough to call her and tell her that he loved her. How could he do that? How could he not see that it was tearing us all apart?" By now, the tears that had been loosened by alcohol had started to fall, and for once in his life Don didn't try to stop them.
"I can't believe she's gone. She's always been here, y'know? She's my mum, and she's never gonna listen to me ramble for hours about work and look just as interested at the end as at the start. She's never gonna tell my wife all the embarrassing stories about when I was a kid. She's never gonna teach my daughter how to make her own doll's clothes. Never gonna watch my son hit a home run." He was crying in earnest now. There was no one to impress here, no one he had to be strong for. Just a dog, who was looking at him with deep amber eyes that seemed to hold all the sadness of the world.
Dropping the beer to the ground, Don turned and threw his arms around Zillah and buried his face in the ruff of her neck. It escaped his notice that he was mimicking Charlie's actions of a few days ago. It also escaped his notice, that a figure who had been standing at the front door turned and left.
Zillah noticed though. She watched him leave, then laid her head on the top of Don's. He was a member of her pack now too, and he needed her comfort.
-ZMS-
Don looked down at the large dog by his side, and sighed. Since that night, the beer-sharing had become a tradition. Whenever he was at the family home and had alcohol, at least a quarter always found its way into Zillah's dish. Sometimes it was more – and every now and then, she'd have pretty much an entire bottle to herself, with Don only having a sip or two. Alan had tried protesting, saying that turning the dog into an alcoholic wasn't a great idea, but Charlie just shrugged it off.
The talks were a habit, too. It was nice to be able to vent to someone who wouldn't judge him, and it often gave him insight into how his own mind worked. Countless times Don had found comfort through sharing a drink and one-sided conversation with the hound.
He noticed that Zillah kept looking at the hospital and whimpering, and Don realised with a jolt that it was his turn to provide the comfort. He looked around quickly, then smiled as he caught sight of a pretty nurse.
"Come on, Zillah," he finally spoke, and she responded to his mischievous tone of voice by pricking up her ears and wagging her tail a little. "Enough reminiscing. Let's go talk to that nurse – I think it's time we smuggled you inside to see Charlie."
This time, the force of Zillah's tail wag was nearly enough to knock Don off his feet.