Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership over Wolf's Rain, any cannon characters who may make an appearance or the Wolf's Rain universe. Any characters who are created in this story are strictly figments created for this story.

Notes: This story takes place after the conclusion of the anime Wolf's Rain and in the modern suburban time period.

I took out the songs for the chapters to get them up faster.

Chapter Seven

Mad World

"All around me are familiar faces,
Worn out places, Worn out faces,
Bright and early for the daily races,
Going nowhere, Going nowhere."

-Michael Andrews "Mad World"

"Sir, you're going to have to come with us." The man in the uniform tugged his hand cuffs off of his belt, but he didn't look away from Jay, as though afraid he might strike at him if he broke eye contact. But Jay didn't move—he stood as if someone had snuck in moments ago while no one was looking and carved a replica of him from wax, leaving it to stand with a shiny nervous sweat in his place. Finally, slowly, he blinked and his mouth worked as he fought the color rising in his face.

"What for?" Jay asked, his voice far quieter than it should have been.

"You've been charged with the illegal acquisition of money and linked to criminal activity within the area. We'd like to take you in for questioning, sir."

"You can't take Dad!" Caleb snarled, wrinkling his face at the police officer. He wrapped his small hands around the fist his father's had formed, and tugged gently at the thick corded forearm.

"Neil," Jay whispered. "Take your brother into the kitchen and make him some lunch, please." Neil stepped forward uncomfortably, and took Caleb's little hands in his own.

"Come on, Caleb. You heard Jay, let's go."

"No! I don't want to go with you," Caleb whined. "Dad, tell him I'm not going with him. I want to stay with you!" But Jay shook his tiny hand away and Neil wrapped his arms around Caleb. He managed to lift him off of the floor just enough to hobble to the kitchen, disappearing behind the door, heedless to his brothers shrieking and pitiful kicking.

Cailean watched from where he still sat on the floor, holding tiny fistfuls of crayons over his pad of drawing paper, as Jay was led away in handcuffs.

The door slid on its oiled hinges, clicking shut behind him with the wafting scent of cut wood, as though it had been freshly sawn from a tree only days ago to find its place on the doctor's homely little cottage. A curl of inky gray smoke coiled from Doctor Mockic's stack towards a blue sky dotted with blots of tufted white clouds.

Somehow, beyond the overpowering spice of the forest trees, he could still smell the distinct odor of civilization—the greasy stench of the mill and the power generator, the stale aroma of garbage that had yet to be toted to a landfill. Even though the air was much cleaner than that of the city, it was still tainted by the tang of humanity. And yet it belonged there, somehow.

Nothing had changed from the brief glimpse he had gotten when he'd first dragged the girl from the comfort of her home. The squat little cottage-like houses were home to an older crowd than he had ever seen in the city before—humans of ages that no longer survived in the poisons of metropolitan life.

Cailean hunched his shoulders and slipped off of the doctor's landing, cringing at the feeling that tingled up his shoulder in response to the movement that grated on the sore nerves. As he headed towards her cabin he felt the stares of the townsfolk as they paused long enough amidst their daily chores to watch him, be it borne of curiosity or from the grief he had caused them only the day before. Cailean paused at the top of the ramp that led onto her front porch, took a breath, and rapped lightly on the door.

It flung open quickly, and Cailean stumbled back to avoid getting hit with it, making a mental note for future reference that doors in the town swung out and not in. The man in the wheelchair sat in the rectangle of the doorway and jerked the wheels forward, knocking the edge of the chair into Cailean's knees and forcing him to stagger back.

"What are you-" Cailean stammered.

"Who do you think you are?" the old man snarled. He attempted to shove Cailean back again, but this time he stepped aside, avoiding the attack.

"What do you-"

"You attack and kidnap my daughter, bring her back with half of her leg torn off and then have the balls to come up to my door as though you're a welcomed guest?" His voice rose in volume and Cailean wobbled awkwardly off the edge of the porch, attempting to escape the old man's wrath.

"Please, I just want to get home," Cailean pleaded. The old man effortlessly slid down the ramp, pivoting around the corner frame and rounding on him.

"Home? Home!" he snorted. "You're home should be a nice cozy cell in that god forsaken city! You should be-"

"You know where it is, then?" Cailean interrupted, leaning forward. The man wrinkled his nose as he wheeled towards him.

"Yes I know of that filthy place and its filthy people. That's why we're out here! To get away from there! And yet people like you always seem to find a way to spoil things time and time again. You-"

"Daddy, stop it." Cailean glanced up towards the open doorway. Tate leaned against a crutch and her leg was wrapped in a thick layer of bandages. She hobbled halfway down the ramp and leaned over them, but didn't spare Cailean as much as a moment of her attention. "I told you he wasn't the one who hurt me. Actually…" Finally, her eyes fell to him, pausing in contemplation where, beneath the innocent brown irises an idea had formed. "He's the one who saved me."

"Tate, it's time for you to stop being so naïve and reckless." Her father rounded on her, turning the wheelchair effortlessly on the gravelly road. "You're still not old enough to go wandering into the forest, let alone near the road! You could have gotten hurt." Tate leaned back, pursed her lips thoughtfully and glanced at the little town that was anything but sleepy.

"Dad, I like to explore. Besides, I'm old enough to know when a situation is-"

"You're fourteen, Tate!" he snapped. She sighed, closing her eyes and offering a shake of her head.

"I'm fifteen, Dad. Nearly sixteen. I can handle a little exploration."

"Tate, get inside." He glanced balefully at Cailean before wheeling his chair back up the ramp. "We'll discuss this in private." Tate peered at her father, watching him pass before she turned her brown eyes to Cailean.

It wasn't fear that he saw there—it was curiosity.

"Come on, Caleb! The water's great!" Cailean cried from where he bobbed in the deep water of the flooded culvert. Monstrous storms often came in by sea, passing over the city and raising the water level higher than halfway in the cement basins before blowing over the mountains by morning to leave the day sunny and uncomfortably warm.

"I don't want to. I didn't even want to come," Caleb snapped from where he sat as far away from the edge of the incline as he could manage. He carefully flipped the page of his book, gently so as not to tear the precious paper. Neil paused next to him and dropped his shirt on the pile of Cailean's clothing.

"You never want to do anything with us," Neil said, lifting one side of his mouth in a lopsided scowl.

"Maybe if you guys actually did something intelligent for once I'd join in," Caleb growled. "Besides, swimming in the culverts is disgusting." Neil stared at Caleb blankly, as though he wasn't sure whether or not he felt like being insulted by the comment. He turned away after a moment of hesitation, dropping his trousers onto the pile with the rest of the clothes.

"You're so lame, Caleb. No wonder Jay's so disappointed with you. You're no fun," Neil said. The color rose in Caleb's cheeks and he snapped his book shut, pushing himself up to his feet.

"I'm going home," he grumbled. Neil stepped forward, however, wrapping his arms around Caleb's chest and squeezing him tightly. "What're you doing?" Caleb squeaked, writhing as he tried to escape his captor's embrace.

"I'm going to make you more fun," Neil laughed. Arching his back just slightly, he lifted Caleb off of the ground and swung towards the culvert.

"No! Let me go!" Caleb cried, panicking and renewing his efforts to escape. He dropped his book onto the ground, hoping to save it from a similar fate, and winced at the gravelly crackling sound it made when it landed on the cement.

"Neil, maybe this isn't a good idea," Cailean called from below. But Neil had already reached the edge of the ridge and launched Caleb far into the channel of water. He arched overhead, a spinning mass of struggling limbs, before splashing headfirst into the dark water, his mouth opened wide in a scream that had lodged too far into his throat to find an escape. He writhed beneath the surface a moment, struggling ineffectually as he tried to reorient himself as to which way was up.

And then he began to sink.

Cailean stretched out, peered over the edge of the windowsill and tried to get a good look at the room. It looked like any ordinary bedroom should—or at least how he imagined one might look, seeing as how he hadn't had one of his own before.

Flecks of dust had settled onto the window pane, and as they caught the sun they reflected the light, shining golden in the glow and making it difficult to make out the movement inside the room. As his fingers brushed the sill they released that same pungent smell of wood and Cailean watched as a tiny spider marched unhesitant along the timber beam, lifting its little black legs to begin to hoist itself onto his fingers.

In that instant, much to his chagrin, the window slid open, blowing the little spider off of his hands. It tumbled back onto the sill, struggling to reorient itself. Cailean dropped down and stared up into Tate's face, who quirked a brow, but didn't seem quite as surprised to see him as he was to see her.

"I have a deal for you," she started. Dropping her legs over the edge, Tate noticed the spider and absently picked it up to set it higher on the sill. "Catch me."

"What?" Instead of answering, Tate hopped down. She nearly slammed into him, though he managed to half catch her with his free arm and ease her onto the ground.

"Thanks for the warning," he mumbled. "I thought you were using a crutch?" Cailean glanced down at her spindly legs where the bulky bandage was still wrapped tightly.

"Oh, that? I was milking it. Dad won't try so hard to stop me if he doesn't think I can't hobble to the front door without making a huge racket," she said, her playful grin widening as she reached up to pull her hair back into a high ponytail. "Mockic said it wasn't as serious as it looked."

"So what about this deal?" Cailean lifted a brow as Tate pursed her lips thoughtfully.

"Look, you want to get out of here, right?"

"Yes…" he tried to keep the suspicion out of his voice.

"Well, I want to see the city. Help me see the city, and I'll take you there."

"Wait a minute—I thought you said you didn't know how to get there?"

"No, because you got us lost. But I do know how to get to the road from here, and the road leads to the city," Tate said. Cailean breathed a sigh and glanced at the forest carefully before turning back to her.

"That's it? That's all you want? I take you for a tour and then you find your own way back?"

"That's right. Deal?" Tate snapped her hand out to him without any hesitation. Cailean watched it silently, as though trying to glean some sense of answer from the network of creases and lines in her palm.

Finally, he reached out, took her hand in his, and shook on it.

Cailean struggled to pull Caleb's dead weight onto the cement. Horrified, Neil helped to drag the sodden body to higher ground.

"Fuck, he's not breathing," Neil whispered as he knelt to gently slap at Caleb's pale cheeks. His mouth lolled open and his eyes remained shut.

"Move," Cailean gasped, shoving Neil out of the way as he placed his hands on Caleb's chest and pushed in.

"Are you doing it right?" Neil asked.

"I don't know. Now shut up." Cailean leaned back as Caleb jerked, coughing up mouthfuls of water. He rolled over onto his side, pushed himself onto all fours and staggered upright.

"Caleb! I'm so sorry," Neil began, reaching out to grab his arm. Caleb dodged away from him and snatched up his book, intent on escaping. Cailean darted forward, however, and caught a hold of his wrist.

"Look, Neil didn't mean to hurt you. We're brothers—he'd never-"

"Don't touch me!" Caleb shrieked, wrenching free of Cailean's hold. "You're not my brother. You're a fucking monster Jay picked up off of the road. So just stay away from me," he snarled. Cailean jerked back, snapping his mouth shut as he watched Caleb spin away from him.

"Caleb! I just wanted to include you!" Neil snapped. Caleb rounded on him, and his mouth peeled back in a smile as he barked a sharp laugh.

"Well, don't! I don't want to be included. Not by you."

"What do you mean?" Neil snarled, taking a step towards him. Caleb mimicked the step in the opposite direction.

"I don't trust you, Neil. I don't trust you and I don't like you. So just stay away from me." Clutching The Giving Tree in his arms, Caleb turned and ran, leaving small puddles of river water with every step.

Note: I hope that you guys enjoyed the chapter. (This one was kind of hard to right, so I apologize for how long it took me to get it up.) Please let me know your thoughts, critiques and questions or just let me know how I'm doing so far!