FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Lee

I felt sick to my stomach. The whole drive in Sasha's car was giving me time to think, but, as much as there was for me to mull on, all I managed to do was draw a blank. My mind was scoured of any thought whatsoever; completely, eerily, sickeningly dead. It was because of him. It was because of what had happened. I couldn't wrap my head around it.

My sight would flash to the highway and the tail lights of Conall's truck, but then I'd be there again. I'd be standing over him frozen. I'd see his agonized grimace, the pained clench of his eyes, and the blood. God, there was so much blood. My emotions nearly got the better of me before I saw the gash on his forehead. When you handle blades as often as I do you tend to get cut, and swinging them madly about overhead like I do leaves you with a few slices to the scalp. They bleed awfully, but they're not life-threatening. I knew he'd be okay. Well, physically he'd be alright.

A car passed on the other side of the road and flashed his lights at me. I had my headlights on bright without realizing it. I switched them off with a quick swipe, and tapped the break as Conall slowed. He turned and I followed him into a housing development, and then he pulled into a driveway beside a white Honda civic. I parked along the street as there was no more room in front of the garage. The lights from the living room spilled a little ways out into the yard, the closed curtains within the living room keeping most of it inside. A shadow passed across the cotton veil, and I watched as the dark outline stood motionless for a moment before slipping off to the side and disappearing.

My eyes lingered on the window, and then I just blankly traced my sight down the trail of white banisters, lost in my own emotions and not even comprehending what I was doing.

The way I was feeling was overwhelming: Pained, angry, frightened, worried, but also aggravatingly calm on the outside. Calm and collected; that's how I went on with my life, but, right now...I felt like I could scream. Who would hurt Sasha? I couldn't find a reasonable explanation for any of this, but that was because of how I felt about him.

I cared. No, I...I...it was more than that.

Of course he didn't know. No one knew but me. Ever since we met in Middle school I'd had feelings for him, and those feelings had only grown more since - well - since we've grown. He was so strong, and I admired that. Nothing anyone said to him could ever bring him down, and my heart would nearly burst with pride whenever I would witness him standing up for himself. He was courageous. He was just. He was everything I wanted to be, and he was everything I wanted.

Yet he was still always plagued by injustice. He'd fight for what he knew to be right, for equality, but the opinions of others never changed. He grew tired. He stopped fighting.

When I saw him enduring the scorn, and when I saw that it was getting to him, I wanted to fight. I wanted to protect him. I wanted to uphold his valor and virtue, and I wanted to make sure that he was happy. Whether or not he knew of it - knew of me - I didn't care. Luckily we always have a class or two together; Conall's is the most frequent. He's always happy when he's drawing, always smiling. If I could make him smile, if I could make his life easier than all of my trials would be worth the pain.

My uncle taught me the ways of chivalry. A valorous man, he chose to live by virtue and honour, and he birthed in me the same ideals. I became a sentinel. I became a Knight. I could just make out the dim glint of my armor sticking up from the bed of Connal's truck. It was the other half of me. It was who I was, who I became when I couldn't take another ounce of what life would deal me.

I wished I had it right now.

Conall's door clapped as he hopped out and wavered toward the front door of the house. He glanced at me sitting in the car, but then his own troubles distracted him. Sasha didn't get out. I watched his door anxiously, but it never opened. I scowled, and I felt the downward play of my lips tugging sharply on my face. Anger seared in my throat, and it stung over my tongue as I yelled and beat my paw against the steering wheel. I was so infuriated, but I only dealt one hard, thumping blow of frustration that rippled through the dashboard.

I had failed. I'd broken my pledge.

I didn't protect him. When he needed me most I wasn't there.

I lay back and just sat still - a little too still, honestly - but yet I could have just stepped off of a tilt-a-whirl the way my head was spinning. The nauseating, throat clenching, heart pumping feeling that was plaguing me was too familiar. I knew why. It had happened once before. Funny how, now, it should happen again with the same boy but for a much more confusing reason.

I took in a deep breath through my nose and felt the cool air slither into my lungs before blowing it softly back out again. His scent lingered on my senses. It was everywhere in here. Sweet and cool like rain, it was; gentle and soothing to take in, but always with a flare of some kind lingering alluringly on the edge. Each breath brought a different flavor of smell with it. Just when I'd think to have it I'd pick up something different: vanilla, lavender laundry detergent, cinnamon like a box Red Hots...blood. I wearily peeked down at the spot of red on my T-shirt, and my gut jerked as though I'd been socked in it with a softball.

Sasha.

He needed help, no doubt, so I fumbled out of the car and glided over to his door. I peered in, but my eyes surveyed my own reflection wearily before passing through it there on the glass and seeing him. He'd fallen asleep, and I hated to wake him. I thought about just picking him up and carrying him to his room. He could wake up and feel like everything had been a bad dream, but...he'd still be bruised and in pain. Sighing, I heard Conall knocking on the front door of the house, and I tried opening the truck door as quietly as I could. The pop of the handle immediately woke him to my chagrin. I saw him jump at the sound, and I cringed inwardly at how frightened he was curled up in the seat. He'd pulled up his legs and tucked them underneath himself, wrapping his tail around as though to protect himself from sharp wind.

He turned his head stiffly to peer at me with his good eye. The other was already swollen shut. The muscles in his neck twitched as he gritted his teeth, and, even though he tried, he couldn't hide the pain he was in.

I let my tail wag gently, and my ears relaxed on my head. I've found that I can pull off the cute demeanor pretty well, and it's helped to cheer up my many distraught little cousins when I'd be left to watch them and they'd hurt themselves doing something. It was kind of an automatic reaction, and, luckily, he didn't seem to mind. He even smiled a little.

He unfurled his legs with a grunt. "Owww..."

"Careful," I clucked.

"Lee," he said. He frowned up at me. "I'm sorry."

I held out my hand for him to take. He stared at it without moving for a moment, and then his eye swiveled to the bloodstain on my shirt. His own hand was cold when he placed it in mine. I traced my thumb over the back of it soothingly, and tore my eyes away from his paw in mine to look him in the eye.

I smiled softly. "For what?"

He didn't return the gesture or say anything - he didn't have to - and he looked away from me. He squeezed my paw, though.

"Come on," I said.

I carefully helped him to slip out of the truck, and then I draped his arm over my shoulder when his legs nearly gave out. His tail dragged along the ground behind us as we hobbled up the walkway toward the front door. His weight was nothing. I didn't know if it was because he was injured, but, as I peered at him out of the corner of my eye, he seemed so frail. I tightened my grasp around his waist. He smirked, but then a grimace broke the smile in half as yelling from inside the house spilled out into the yard. The loudest voice was definitely female. It was his mother no doubt.

"Oh God..." he whined.

He drooped even lower as we continued to shuffle on. Or I continued to shuffle on. I looked down to see his feet dragging and realized I was more or less carrying him along.

The shouting increased, and we didn't even make it up the first step before the screen door going into the house cracked against the brick wall of the porch from a frantic push. I pinned my ears flat as a shrill scream broke from someone's throat, and then a firm shove sent me sprawling onto my backside in the grass of the yard. My first reaction was that Sasha would fall without me supporting him, but then I looked up to see a man - his father I guess - clutching onto his shoulder while his mother had him in a vice-like embrace with her head resting on top of his. A younger fox stepped zombie-like down the steps and stared wide-eyed at what was happening. She was the first to notice me there sprawled on my ass in the yard with dew seeping through my pants. Conall came down after her, saw me too, and hastened to help me up, but I just brushed his hand aside and stood.

"You alright?" he asked me woundedly. His tail was twitching aggravatingly behind him, and he raised his paw and gingerly rubbed his cheek where the fur was ruffled and unkempt. It hadn't been like that before he'd gone in.

I brushed off my butt and wiggled my tail. I'd fallen on it and pinched it, and now a sharp pain was worming its way up from the base of my spine. I tried to ignore it.

"Yeah," I simply said.

Sasha's mother was looking over him frantically. Her eyes were already drenched with tears, and with each discovery of a hurt she'd burst into an even worse fit of sobbing. She was babbling and cooing and sniveling, and all I heard Sasha saying was "I'm fine, I'm fine." Apparently he wasn't in the mood to be babied. I wouldn't have been either.

I stood beside Conall while the waterworks flowed, and then Sasha's father locked eyes with me and glowered. I watched as his eyes roved over me and he saw the bloodstain on my shirt, and then the anger he was holding in found a means of escape that was apparently justifiable to him.

"Who is he?" he bristled. The malevolence in his voice was practically dripping from his teeth.

Conall answered for me. He didn't appreciate the tone in which Sasha's father was speaking - neither did I - and he let a rumble of crossness rattle in his throat before he spoke. "This is Lee. He's the one who spotted Sasha in the first place."

He backed down for a moment, but it was only long enough for him to ponder retaliation.

His eyes squinted together, and a web of wrinkles spread out from the corners like glass splintering. He aimed his glare at me. "Hawthorne? Lee Hawthorne? You're on the football team, aren't you!?"

His last sentence was more of a declaration than a question, but I nodded. I probably shouldn't have done that. I could tell what he was insinuating. I guess Sasha's parents held the same negative attitudes towards the team as their son did. I didn't know if any of the football guys had done this, but - as disturbing as it was - it wouldn't have surprised me. I couldn't blame him for jumping to that conclusion, but I hadn't done anything wrong. I would never have hurt Sasha. He didn't know that, though, and suddenly I was to blame for what had happened.

He was slow, and I could've easily avoided him, but I let him grab me by the front of my shirt with one arm. He pulled the other back as if he was going to hit me, but he never followed through. Why? I wasn't sure. Maybe we were both still in shock. Either way, I didn't convey any emotions at all as he yanked me toward him and sneered at me with his nose nearly touching mine. All of my self-defense training was blaring in the back of my mind and telling me to dislodge his hand and yank his arms around to pin them to his back, but - needless to say - that wouldn't have helped. My placidness was unnerving him, though - he was expecting a retort but I didn't give him one - and he just faltered and stared at me, his anger cooling into confusion.

"DAD!" Sasha shrieked at his father. He was struggling to escape from his mother's clutches, but she wouldn't let him go. "Leave him alone! He didn't do this! He's my friend, for God's sake!"

Pleasant warmth filled my chest at Sasha sticking up for me. My hold on my emotions was immediately broken, and I smiled at him without pause. I don't think that had ever happened with anyone else.

I hadn't noticed Conall as he'd moved to intercept Sasha's father. I'd been too busy meeting the fox's gaze to see that my teacher's paw was gripped tight onto the arm that was pulled back for a good punch.

A vicious growl rumbled like tumbling boulders within Conall's chest, and his amber eyes seemed to smolder as he glared at Sasha's father. I watched the fox's throat bulge as he swallowed hard.

"I understand that you're angry, Vic," he said. "I am, too, but - honestly?" Conall wiggled Vic's arm he held firmly in his grasp. The fox's ears fell backward and he suddenly looked at me as though he'd just noticed I was there. Conall tightened his grip on Vic's wrist, and the fox winced and let my shirt go. "You can slap me around all you want," my teacher said. He then leaned in uncomfortably close to Vic, and it was scary to see how he dwarfed the fox in stature. His voice was like molten rock when he spoke. "But you just about made an unfathomable mistake."

The girl fox came and stood next to Conall, and she shook her head at Vic. "Dad, what the hell?"

"Please stop," Sasha begged.

And everyone did. Conall let Vic go, Vic returned to usher his wife toward the house with Sasha in tow, and then he paused to somberly motion for us to follow them inside.

Conall and I entered the house after everyone else, and Vic closed the door after we were inside. He gave me a pained smile as I walked passed, and once the door was shut he patted me gingerly on the back and clenched his eyes closed.

"I'm...I'm so sorry, son," he whimpered. He shook his head and then opened his eyes to look at Sasha as he sat limply on the stairs leading to the second floor while Conall pointed out the bruises beneath his shirt to Mother.

I followed his gaze and let my eyes linger on Sasha. He noticed me staring, and he smirked and rolled his eyes as both Conall and Mother's fingers prodded him here and there, wincing whenever they'd come across a tender spot. I was glad that he was getting his sense of humor back.

I turned back to Vic. "It's okay, Mr. Clemmons."

He frowned. "No, it's not."

"Don't worry about it," I said.

He huffed, but I turned to walk and stand behind Conall. I just caught the end of his conversation with sniffly, snotty, mother fox.

"...and some warm water will do good right now. Put ice on that eye as soon as you're done, and make sure that you don't scrub that scab and open the cut back up."

"That's all I'd need," Sasha mumbled.

"Do you have any gauze, Nicki?" Conall asked.

Nicki sniffed and wiped her nose. "I've got some liquid bandage. Would that help?"

"Definitely," Conall sighed agreeably.

Sasha grunted as his mother placed her hands on his knees, and she mumbled a jittery apology. "Honey, will you be okay?"

He nodded. Whether or not he truly meant it I couldn't tell. I hoped he did, but it was always hard for me to read Sasha.

"Do you need any help?" she asked concernedly.

He looked himself over as if to be reassured that he was intact, tried to stand, but his legs quivered so much that he barely made it off of the step he was sitting on.

"Uh," he moaned. He looked to me. "Mind hefting me around a little more?"

I smiled and shook my head, and then helped him to stand.

He let a soft laugh jitter out as I took his weight, and we carefully turned on the stairs and headed up one slow step after another.

Conall called up behind us as we went. "Sasha," he beckoned.

Sasha grunted, and I felt his chest expand in a huffy breath. "Yeah?"

"I'm going to talk with your parents. Do..." He paused. I stopped climbing the stairs. "Do you want me to come up after I'm done? Help get things off of your ch..."

"No."

I just stared up into the empty hall-space of the second floor. Conall choked at Sasha's forwardness, but he didn't say anything else. The tension was stifling.

Nicki then called up gently. Her voice wavered and nearly cracked as she fought back another wave of tears. "Let us know if you need anything, baby."

"Lee will take care of me," Sasha said. I caught the hint of humor on the edge of his tongue, but, whether or not he meant that, I would take care of him.

I vowed not to let what happened happen again.

After lugging him upstairs and having him direct me toward his room I held him up as he plucked some clothes from his drawers. I could hear the faint mumblings of the adults downstairs through the floor. I think he did, too, but he didn't say anything and just scowled whenever the voices would get louder every so often.

I blushed as he yanked open a drawer and the underwear he was trying to pull out got caught on something. The elastic pulled taut, and he groaned as it popped out of his paw and shot across the room like a slingshot.

"Goddammit."

God forgive me, but I laughed. He did, too. He propped his head on my shoulder, and I felt his embarrassment glow warm on his cheek as I shuffled us toward the briefs where they lay in front of his bedroom door.

He sighed as I stopped and he stooped over to pluck up the underwear. "Thank you for all of this," he said. "For...for...UGH." He couldn't get a decent grip on the briefs. They kept slipping out of his paw. "For being so..." He dropped them again.

I chuckled and abashedly leaned down to grab the garment for him. The blood scorched red-hot in my cheeks as I bent over. "You don't have to thank..."

THUNK.

I hissed as the door opened and cracked against my skull. I'm glad whoever opened it hadn't done so with a lot of gusto. Otherwise it would have knocked me out.

"Oh shit!"

It was Sasha's sister. She slipped in through the small crack of the door and shifted uneasily as I rubbed the throbbing spot on the crown of my head.

"I'm sorry!" she whined.

I missed my helmet right then. "It's okay," I chuckled.

"Geesh, Claire," Sasha scolded. His breath glided across my face and tickled my fur as he turned to me. "You alright?"

"Yeah."

Claire cleared her throat. "Mom thought I should help you into the bath tub. Lee probably doesn't want to see you naked, and, uh...wha?"

She cocked an eyebrow and gazed at Sasha's underwear that was draped over my index finger. I stared at them awkwardly, and then I just lifted up my arm and offered them to her. Sasha giggled as she snatched them from me.

"Ooookay," she drew out. She stuffed the briefs into her pocket and draped Sasha's other arm over her own shoulder. He grunted as his weight shifted, and Claire grunted as she became his only means of support. "You good?" she asked him.

"Yeah. Please don't drop me."

She snuffed. "I'm not, you cow." Her tail flourished as she looked over both her and Sasha's shoulder at me. "You can head back downstairs if you want, Lee, although I don't blame you if you want to stay up here. It's not exactly hospitable territory at the moment down there."

"I'll wait," I said assuredly. I wasn't going anywhere until I absolutely had to. I plucked the clothes Sasha had pulled out from off of the bed and handed them to Claire.

Sasha grinned. "Thanks, Lee."

I smiled and nodded.

I felt really odd being in his room without anyone else in there. I stood around awkwardly for a while after Claire closed the door, and after I grew tired of staying still I meandered around and looked at his things while telling myself I wasn't being creepy or nosy. After looking around I just plopped onto the foot of his bed and sat. I thought about going back downstairs after a while, but I could still hear Conall, Vic, and Nicki through the floors and I didn't want to interrupt their...uh...heated conversation. It had cooled down a bit from what I could tell, but it still wasn't friendly enough for me.

As I sat on the bed my phone vibrated in my pocket. I thought about it ignoring it, but in the end I plucked it out and saw that my friend Rudy had texted me. He was our quarterback, a really nice guy, and fucking sexy as hell. He was almost my best friend. We'd hit it off when he'd moved to Emerald Bluff from Georgia, and, as short as our friendship has been, I felt like I'd known him my entire life. He was the one rare person that I could open up to about anything, and all of my insecurities vanished when I was with him.

Rudy: Hey, bro! You were crazy amazing at the game! You really had the crowd going for us!

I think he was always the only other member of the team who acknowledged my efforts as the Emerald Knight. It made me swell with pride that he thought so much of me.

Lee: Thanks, Red. You know you the craziest of amazing, though. We wouldn't have stood a chance without you.

Red: LOL, whatever. Thanks, though. So what's up? I bet you're beat, huh?

Lee: A little. I...

My fingers froze over the keys of my phone as I nearly told him what had happened with Sasha. Should I? I mean, it really wasn't any of his business, but...what if he knew something? What if someone on the team had done this to Sasha? I had no inclination whatsoever to believe Red had had anything to do with it. He wouldn't. He wasn't the kind of fur to be so hateful. He may have heard something, though. He was the quarterback after all. He was practically everywhere at once when we practiced, and most of the time no one ever noticed him unless they weren't performing something correctly and he took the liberties of correcting them. I knew I could trust him. I don't know why I was so apprehensive.

Red: You alright? Did something disappointing happen to you, too?

I hadn't sent my last message, and he'd taken my long pause as a sign of trouble. What did he mean, though? What had happened to him that was disappointing?

Lee: What do you mean? What happened to you?

Red: I was just expecting someone special to be at the game, but I never saw him. I don't know what happened.

I wonder who that could've been.

Lee: Huh, a recruiter no doubt...

Red: Lol, no. A friend.

Lee: Who, mister beat-around-the-bush?

Here there was a pause on his end. Trouble? Was he having second thoughts about telling me? Maybe. After a few minutes he answered.

Red: Sasha Clemmons?

Oh. Oh fuck.

Red: Yo? You alright? Spacing out much?

I had been sitting and staring at the phone for nearly ten minutes without so much as the tiniest muscle tweaking. He'd been waiting for Sasha? What did that mean? I scrolled frantically back up to his earlier replies and latched onto the words "special friend." Sasha was special to him? Why was my heart nearly pounding through my bones and flesh and fur? Why were my palms so sweaty that it was hard to keep ahold of my phone? Indeed, it slipped through my fingers and bounced beneath the bed. I stared after it dumbly before leaning over and fishing around blindly for it. I fumbled over it, and something else pulled out with it when I yanked it out. It was a piece of scrap paper with a number written on it. My eyes roved over the numbers. I recognized it.

It was Red's.

"Oh no," I whimpered.

What was I supposed to do? This obviously meant what I thought it did. Red and Sasha...Someone else...someone else was his already. Yet again another had outshone me and left me in the dark. My heart grew heavy in my chest. Red didn't know what had happened, but if Sasha was really that important to him then he needed to know. Even if they were together I knew Red would help me to keep him safe. If I couldn't be his then the least I could do is uphold the vow I'd made.

Lee: Red, there's something you need to know.

Red: Okay.

Oh shit. He was not going to be happy.