"How's my little porkchop doing,?"
Peter hadn't realized he was awake until he heard the friendly and gravelly voice. Blinking was like rubbing dirt directly into his eyes but he forced himself to do so until the black triangular face came into focus. "Wolfie!" he cried out happily, but his voice was strained from lack of use and incredibly weak.
Still, the sound of it made the black lips pull apart in a gentle smile, revealing an impressive assortment of very sharp teeth. "Back in the land of the living, I see," the very large Canine said as he sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm very glad. It gets boring wiping an ass day after day that never complains about being mistreated."
Peter chuckled, tiring already. "Oh, you're a Pussy Cat. You couldn't harm a fly, you know that." He smiled as his mate picked up his useless pink hand and held it in a huge black furred paw. Distantly, Peter could feel the warmth and the pressure of that paw, but motor control was denied him.
"Oh, I don't know," Wolfie said with a smile, "I handled myself pretty well back in ancient Rome. I got my time travel merit badge to prove it, too."
Peter laughed and he was so tired, he started to slip back to sleep. Wolfie was kind and crazy, loving to a fault, and the casual way he dealt with the weirdness in their lives tickled Peter. Part-time artist and full time nursemaid, the male was so full of life Peter couldn't help but be happy to be alive in his presence.
Darkness claimed him and he fell. Flames shot upwards all about him and he heard the children screaming. Red hot steel girders pushed heavily down onto his back as he struggled to keep the jumble of steel above him standing. His strength was never in doubt, but he could feel the steel bending from the heat and the stress. And then none of that mattered as the floor beneath him caved in.
"The kids!"
"The kids got out OK," Wolfie said, placing a soothing hand on his back.
Peter took a deep breath and tried to nod his head, but he couldn't. He used to be able to do that much and he suddenly felt very scared. But then he realized that Wolfie had turned him over onto his stomach and he forced his heart to slow.
"Did they all get out?" Peter asked as he heard Wolfie squeezing water from the sponge. He could see powder and baby oil on the bedtray, but he wasn't surprised. There was going to be a debriefing in a very short time, and they certainly weren't going to hold it in his sick room. That meant a wheelchair and diapers and maybe a suit if there was a chance a Senator or Congressman might sit in on the meeting.
"All the ones we knew about, Porkchops, or so they tell me."
"Good," Peter was grateful for that. The last time they tangled with Cold Slavers, the team had let seven shipping containers fall into the ocean before discovering that each container was packed full of Repts hoping for a better life in the United Species. Almost two hundred Turtles, Toad, Lizards, and Alligators in total got shorter ones instead, with the survivors deported as quietly as possible.
"How's my other body?" Peter asked as the tall canine blotted his motionless, chubby, pink body dry. He felt a chill from the moisture on his skin, but Wolfie's hands were so gentle he didn't even feel the towel.
"The monstrosity is still in one piece," the canine said with a sudden trace of bitterness. "You can play superhero again in a couple of weeks. Maybe sooner if they get it hauled up from the bottom of the gulf before monsoon season hits."
"The Gulf? I thought I was in a building... holding up some girders..." Pete was confused. Images were so disjointed and it was hard to focus.
"You were on an abandoned oil platform Tarkus had taken over. Don't you remember?"
"Tarkus...," Peter said as Wolfie rolled his body onto an oversized diaper. "He was behind the Cold Slavers?"
Wolfie spread powder between Peter's chubby little legs, a look of concern plain on his dark canine features. "I think we should postpone the debriefing, Peter. The fire at the Slaver's was over a week ago. You did the debriefing for that as Pig Iron... pissed me off something fierce... you tried to wield a brass dildo onto the monstrosity... you don't remember any of that?"
"Actually," Peter said thinking about it carefully, "No, I don't."
-more to come-
Peter hadn't realized he was awake until he heard the friendly and gravelly voice. Blinking was like rubbing dirt directly into his eyes but he forced himself to do so until the black triangular face came into focus. "Wolfie!" he cried out happily, but his voice was strained from lack of use and incredibly weak.
Still, the sound of it made the black lips pull apart in a gentle smile, revealing an impressive assortment of very sharp teeth. "Back in the land of the living, I see," the very large Canine said as he sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm very glad. It gets boring wiping an ass day after day that never complains about being mistreated."
Peter chuckled, tiring already. "Oh, you're a Pussy Cat. You couldn't harm a fly, you know that." He smiled as his mate picked up his useless pink hand and held it in a huge black furred paw. Distantly, Peter could feel the warmth and the pressure of that paw, but motor control was denied him.
"Oh, I don't know," Wolfie said with a smile, "I handled myself pretty well back in ancient Rome. I got my time travel merit badge to prove it, too."
Peter laughed and he was so tired, he started to slip back to sleep. Wolfie was kind and crazy, loving to a fault, and the casual way he dealt with the weirdness in their lives tickled Peter. Part-time artist and full time nursemaid, the male was so full of life Peter couldn't help but be happy to be alive in his presence.
Darkness claimed him and he fell. Flames shot upwards all about him and he heard the children screaming. Red hot steel girders pushed heavily down onto his back as he struggled to keep the jumble of steel above him standing. His strength was never in doubt, but he could feel the steel bending from the heat and the stress. And then none of that mattered as the floor beneath him caved in.
"The kids!"
"The kids got out OK," Wolfie said, placing a soothing hand on his back.
Peter took a deep breath and tried to nod his head, but he couldn't. He used to be able to do that much and he suddenly felt very scared. But then he realized that Wolfie had turned him over onto his stomach and he forced his heart to slow.
"Did they all get out?" Peter asked as he heard Wolfie squeezing water from the sponge. He could see powder and baby oil on the bedtray, but he wasn't surprised. There was going to be a debriefing in a very short time, and they certainly weren't going to hold it in his sick room. That meant a wheelchair and diapers and maybe a suit if there was a chance a Senator or Congressman might sit in on the meeting.
"All the ones we knew about, Porkchops, or so they tell me."
"Good," Peter was grateful for that. The last time they tangled with Cold Slavers, the team had let seven shipping containers fall into the ocean before discovering that each container was packed full of Repts hoping for a better life in the United Species. Almost two hundred Turtles, Toad, Lizards, and Alligators in total got shorter ones instead, with the survivors deported as quietly as possible.
"How's my other body?" Peter asked as the tall canine blotted his motionless, chubby, pink body dry. He felt a chill from the moisture on his skin, but Wolfie's hands were so gentle he didn't even feel the towel.
"The monstrosity is still in one piece," the canine said with a sudden trace of bitterness. "You can play superhero again in a couple of weeks. Maybe sooner if they get it hauled up from the bottom of the gulf before monsoon season hits."
"The Gulf? I thought I was in a building... holding up some girders..." Pete was confused. Images were so disjointed and it was hard to focus.
"You were on an abandoned oil platform Tarkus had taken over. Don't you remember?"
"Tarkus...," Peter said as Wolfie rolled his body onto an oversized diaper. "He was behind the Cold Slavers?"
Wolfie spread powder between Peter's chubby little legs, a look of concern plain on his dark canine features. "I think we should postpone the debriefing, Peter. The fire at the Slaver's was over a week ago. You did the debriefing for that as Pig Iron... pissed me off something fierce... you tried to wield a brass dildo onto the monstrosity... you don't remember any of that?"
"Actually," Peter said thinking about it carefully, "No, I don't."
-more to come-