Lycaon

"Just chill, Lycaon!" said Belle, mildly waspishly.

"Yes, Lady Belle," said Lycaon, blinking at the sudden irritation in Belle's expression. She clearly wanted him to remain, and with so vehement a directive, Lycaon obeyed immediately. He lay back upon Belle's bed, his head upon Belle's pillows, and felt decidedly improper. Meanwhile, Belle began putting away his medical supplies for him.

The client was cleaning- HIS stuff FOR him! This was… utterly wrong!

But- that's what she'd ordered him to do! So, he watched Belle work, his eyes tracking the movements of her body, feeling the subtle shifts of her weight on the mattress next to him. His eyes began to grow heavy, the exertions of two days catching up with him.

He closed his eyes, just resting them for a moment…

Lycaon was standing in the fading light of early evening, the sky purpling in the distance over a darkening ocean horizon. It was his hometown coastline, and he and her were sitting on the stone they always sat on. One more year of high school was ahead of them both, but everything was wrong. Because her family was moving away. Moving away to the place the hollow would hit a few months from now.

"Well," she said in her perfect voice. "In a year, we'll go to the same college! Then we'll never be apart again! What's a year when we have our whole lives!"

"Yeah!" said Lycaon, feeling the first positive thought he'd had since he'd learned she was moving away. "It's just one year."

She hopped off the stone and smiled that wonderful smile. "I promised I'd be home soon, but- I'll see you later, Lycaon!"

And she kissed him. And then she turned to leave. And Lycaon would never see her again.

No!

Lycaon reached out and grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. He would not lose her again. Not tonight. Not this dream. No!

She made a shocked sound as he pulled her to him, but then she smiled and cuddled in close, and everything in Lycaon's universe was fixed. She never moved away. He never lost her. Everything that happened in his life afterward was just a bad dream.

Belle

Belle watched Lycaon sleep for a moment. She felt a little tired, too. She looked over to her couch and decided she could nap there for a while. She moved to get off the side of her bed.

Lycaon's hand grasped her forearm softly and pulled her back down towards him.

"Eeep!" said Belle in soft surprise.

She got a quick glance at Lycaon's face, surprised at his actions. But! He was asleep! She was sure he was asleep!

But all the same, he pulled her, wide-eyed, down to lie next to him, holding her against his side with a strong, protective arm. Through lack of options, she found herself curled against his chest, her head resting lightly on his uninjured shoulder, the fur of his torso in her face and softly touching the tip of her nose. It smelled of lots of things: coconut and soap, mainly- likely his hair tonic. But more subtly and deeply of masonry dust- and also of a deep, subtle muskiness that could only be Lycaon himself.

Belle took deep breaths and wondered what she should do. But she was comfortable. And warm. And held. And safe. Maybe she should be very careful to keep from waking Lycaon up. That would be rude, after all. Right? She should just lay here and be still for a bit.

Belle closed her eyes. Her nose filled with the smell of Lycaon with each deep breath.

She fell asleep.

If Belle stood on super tiptoes and pulled herself up and leaned her head back, she could barely see out of the window over the front of the house. She was waiting for the white car with the little plastic sign on the top of it, like a tiny car hat. That was the kind of car that her father got out of, and when that happened, then Belle knew it would be the best night ever! Since that last best night ever, anyway!

Daddy wasn't always gone, but he was often gone. It was the worst when he left, but the best when he got back! And today, he was coming back!

'Belle,' said Mother.

She looked and saw mother in the door to the room, Wise holding her hand and looking small and sleepy.

'Belle, daddy's train was delayed. He will be a few hours late. Let's watch a show while we wait.'

'No!' said Belle and she returned to looking out the window.

'Belle. Come on. It will be past your bedtime by the time he gets home.'

'No!'

Belle felt mother's hand gently take her upper arm, trying to pull her away from the window. But Belle didn't want to go. Belle would not go! So she unleashed the screech that she knew her mother hated. Mother's hand vanished and she abandoned the effort, leaving Belle alone near the window.

The sun went down. Belle's legs really, really hurt from standing so so long. Going on tippy toes for as long as she could manage it, then taking brief breaks. But then, under the street light, the car with the white hat arrived. Belle's heart sang as she saw her father climb out. He was holding a briefcase in one hand, and the other arm was full of gifts- it always was. One for mother, one for Wise, and absolutely most importantly and amazingly, one for Belle!

'He's home! He's home!' shouted Belle through the house as she ran out of the front room and down the stairs to the front door. It was still closed. She danced from one foot to the other in excitement, all leg pain forgotten in the moment. She could hear footsteps on the walk.

The door opened and daddy entered, a towering tall figure. He saw her and immediately smiled wildly, kneeled down, and offered forth to Belle a fluffy stuffed toy. Belle ran forward, not so much happy for the toy but for his arrival and the ritual of the giving of the gift. She leapt at the toy with a happy screech, stuffing the fuzzy creature to her face, feeling the fur on her nose- and as she did so, father lifted her and his strong arms held her tight to his body and Belle felt warm. And held. And safe.

Lycaon

"Lycaon, Lycaon, Lycaon. You can't walk away from Mockingbird."

A lilting sort of laughter echoed about the darkness that surrounded Lycaon. He was on his back. His body would not move. He tried to raise his upper body but his muscles did not obey his commands.

"I can. And I will!'

Laughter again. "No, no, you don't understand, Lycaon."

Lycaon gritted his teeth and tried to move. This time his body responded, but he could not move due to leather straps that held him down. He tossed his head back and forth and realized he was tied to some sort of table. He grunted and struggled against the restraints.

"I understand everything!" shouted Lycaon at the voice. "Nothing is as you said! You've lied the entire time!"

"I never lied to you, Lycaon. No, no. No, no no no no nonononononono… No. Never any lies. Just Truth. More Truth than you can even understand, Lycaon. STUPID, Lycaon. And I'm telling you the Truth now: You can't walk away from Mockingbird."

Lycaon grunted and strained. A leather strap across his chest broke. He flexed an arm and pulled, snapping another bit of leather. He was freeing himself bit by bit, but his legs were unresponsive, and there must be bindings across his knees, because he couldn't even feel his lower legs.

"Yes, I can!" snarled Lycaon.

"No," came the laugh. "You can't walk away from Mockingbird…"

Lycaon sat up and reached down to untie his legs. His arms froze. He blinked. His knees were bloody knots of dirty rags, and there was nothing below them.

"...Because you don't have any feet!"

Howling laughter chased Lycaon back into the waking world. He woke up to himself snapping his jaws savagely onto the empty air above the bed, his teeth clacking together loudly and painfully. His eyes were wide, his heart was thundering in his chest, his breathing was ragged. He held there, frozen, his muscles tense over his entire upper body. Gradually, he began to relax.

Lycaon blinked a few times. A nightmare? Where was he now?

Something touched his tail. He flinched and looked down. And his heart stopped.

Belle was asleep in the bed next to him and she had her arms wrapped tightly around his tail, her nose and lower face buried in the fur. Lycaon's heart restarted and pole-vaulted into his throat. He was in Lady Belle's bed! And Lady Belle was cuddling his tail!

Tenet #9

Lycaon blinked in shock at Belle. His mind was a maelstrom of emotions, from the shock of his present situation and also the residuals from his varied dreams: anxiety, exhaustion, regret, sadness, stark fear- all of it running through his veins like an acidic slurry. And now guilt over this… this.. betrayal of Victoria Housekeeping's strict tenets of professional conduct!

It was too much. Unsure what to do at this very moment, Lycaon broke slightly- and his head fell into his palms and no matter how hard he scrunched his eyelids closed, water leaked out of them. Everything was wrong. Everything was ruined.

He took a few quiet, ragged breaths.

What was the matter with him? What was this foolishness? This weakness? It was unforgivable. He had to get out of this bed. He had to get a grip! That was paramount!

Lycaon changed his weight to do just that- carefully! To avoid overly disturbing Lady Belle- who, he instinctively felt, should not be woken by his petty failings. Lady Belle should, of course, keep sleeping peacefully.

But when his tail inched away, Belle gripped it tighter in her sleep, burrowing her face into it. "No! Don't go! No!"

Lycaon froze even as the sensation of her grip on his tail zapped through his consciousness like electricity, the thrill of it chasing away some of the negative emotions that hung over him like an invisible ooze. Belle was obviously dreaming. It wasn't really a command to him. She wasn't actually asking him, Lycaon, not to go. He didn't know who she was dreaming about, but it wasn't him- Lycaon knew that instinctively.

But-

Her warm grip felt… really good. And her presence made him feel like he wasn't alone. And the bed was warm and comfortable. And he was tired.

And.. weak fool that he was… Lycaon carefully laid himself back down and stared at the ceiling. He fell into a pit of self-doubt, regret, and hatred… to almost think himself back out of it… before his own mind pulled out some other torturous memory that would send him right back down again. He wallowed in the dark.

Belle stirred in her sleep, and her leg lifted and one knee landed against Lycaon's thigh. Lycaon took a deep breath at the sensation, and- he was out of the pit! He was in the present! He was alive and breathing in this strange, wondrous, and to him, alluringly taboo moment. But the world was not over. And.. maybe.. This wasn't all that bad.

Lycaon did a quick sensor sweep of the premises, testing out the integration of his new leg with his sensor hub that was out on the landing under his lonely cot. It worked perfectly, of course. The sensors found nothing of concern. Belle was safe. The perimeter was secure. The night was quiet. The sensor logs showed that Wise's bedroom door had not opened at all, so it seemed everyone in Random Play was snug in beds for the duration of the night.

Was it really so bad to sleep in the same bed as Belle if nothing happened? If it was utterly innocent?

Perhaps not.

Lycaon closed his eyes and managed to drift back into sleep.