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Red

"Sweetheart, what's the matter?" my mother chirped before daintily nibbling on the piece of steak that dribbled juices down the end of her fork, her ears fluttering at the taste. "You haven't touched your T-bone."

"Very peculiar." My father said in a German accent for some reason. He cocked an eyebrow and rolled forward a little in his wheelchair so he could prop his elbows on the table. His tail curled up the back of his seat, and he stared at me perplexed. His beefy arms settling caused the surface of the table to tremble, and my glass of tea sloshed over and sent ice skittering into my lap. I hissed and threw down some napkins to levee the spill before it soaked my crotch even more. I then flicked the chilly little cubes off of my football pants where they disappeared beneath our booth.

"Shit," he barked a little too loudly. He made a clatter with his silverware as he reached for more napkins. Other furs in the restaurant turned their heads slightly to peer in our direction.

My mother clenched her fork in her paw and looked around embarrassed. "Luther!"

He flashed an innocent glance at her. "What?"

"It's...it's alright," I sputtered. I wadded the tea-soaked mess of napkins up and dropped them into my empty salad bowl. That was all I had eaten since we'd gotten to the steakhouse an hour ago. It was all I had the chance to eat, and I think it was all I would've been able to stomach anyway.

I sat stiffly back in my wooden chair and thumbed the screen of my phone. No new messages.

"Dammit," I whispered.

Since Lee told me what happened I'd been texting Sasha every ten or fifteen minutes. I didn't know if he'd answer - so far he hadn't - but I don't know why he would if what Lee said had happened to him actually did. I mean, Lee wouldn't lie, but I couldn't imagine someone nearly beating Sasha to death in the school parking lot. I groaned inwardly at the thought of it. My tail curled between the legs of my chair.

Lee said he was doing okay, but that didn't change the fact that I felt somewhat responsible. I'd left him there. I'd left him there alone. My innards tied themselves into a knot at knowing that, soon after I drove off, he'd been attacked. I could've prevented it. I should have prevented it. I should've driven him to the stadium with me instead of taking him back to get his car. If I had then this wouldn't have happened.

The repeated, metallic clank of a fork made me snap my head up. My dad was tapping his utensil against the plate on which my untouched steak had long sense cooled. The frown across his muzzle and the sad look in his eyes made me shift uneasily in my seat; the wooden legs creaked and wavered unsteadily.

"What's going on, baby?" he asked me.

My mother passed a wide-eyed glance between the two of us and, as nonchalantly as she could, placed her fork down onto her plate without so much as a clink.

I was used to my father calling me "baby." It was just something he did to remind me that I was his child and that he loved me, but - right then - I felt as helpless as an infant. I wanted to be there for Sasha, but there wasn't anything I could do. So I just stared at him and felt the weight of my phone that I had clutched in my paws beneath the table. I was so anxious in expecting it to vibrate with a message from Sasha, but yet it never did.

"Hmm?" he badgered. "I mean, you know the routine: After a flawless football victory we go to Rook's for a steak and frivolous merry-making. You were fine up until you started texting a while ago..."

"Which I don't appreciate, young man - not at dinner," my mother added sternly. I could just make out the tip of her tail as it rose up in agitation.

My dad rolled his eyes, and then he looked to me worriedly. "What's wrong, son?"

For some reason I thought of not telling them. I don't know why, but it just crossed my mind. A millisecond later I banished the thought and let them know what happened. They knew I liked Sasha - they themselves loved him - so it was only fair that I told the truth.

When I finished relaying to them what Lee had told me they were deathly silent. I'd never, ever felt uncomfortable around my parents before, but the way they were shocked mute didn't settle right with me.

For a while the only sounds came from the usual hubbub of the restaurant going on around us: furs conversed drably, forks tapped against plates, ice clacked about within glasses. My mother had covered her mouth and drooped her ears to the point where they looked to be about to slip off of her head, and my dad...he just stared across the table at the wall with his arms still propped up and supporting his chin in his hands. His nostrils would flare every few seconds, and each time it was like those breaths kindled a flame within his eyes that sparked red-hot. His burgundy fur even seemed to smolder. He was not happy at all.

At last the silence was broken.

"I can't believe this," my mother stammered.

"Neither can I," my father grumbled. He was still staring off into space. "It's happening all over again."

Mom eyed me. "What're they going to do? His parents - that is?"

I just shrugged. I didn't know. My shoulders bobbing seemed to wrench my heart from my chest.

Hopefully not what you did to me, I thought darkly.

"Hmph," my dad huffed.

He then yanked the check out from beneath a plate and paid it, and soon after the road hummed aggravatingly beneath the tires of my mother's Subaru as we drove toward home. I just peered grimly out of my window and watched the shadowed blur of the roadside slither by. My folks started to talk about something after the silence seemed to have nearly set like cement. I couldn't make out what they said, though. I think they were speaking low on purpose, but I didn't care. I had other things on my mind.

I'd never been one to cry. I think the only time in my young-adult life that I'd shed a rightful amount of tears was when my father was wheeled off of an airplane with nothing but bloody bandages for his legs. We'd gotten the news beforehand, of course, and he was only shipped home when he'd recovered enough to travel, but even then my eyes stayed dry. Mom had bawled when the phone rang and we were told, but I didn't. I think, like now, I was in too much shock to fully accept that someone I cared about had been hurt. When I saw the damage for myself, though...

What's worse is that I felt this was all because of me. I wasn't one to cry, but a tear welled up and rolled down my cheek.

"Rudy," my dad said from the passenger seat in front of me.

I wiped my eyes and looked away from the highway to see that he was almost turned completely around and gazing intently at me.

"Hmm?" I asked blandly.

"What do you want to do?"

I wasn't sure what he meant.

His eyes were as hard as diamonds as he looked steadfastly at me, and after a few moments silence he asked again.

"What," he empashized. "Do you want to do?"

My brain seemed to snap to immediate attention, as did my heart as it set itself straight for the first time since receiving the news from Lee.

"Sasha," I said resolutely. His name tingled like electricity across my tongue. "I want to see him."

He smiled for an instant before his mouth pressed flat again.

"What if you're threatened again like before?"

I gazed at him just as hard as he was gazing at me.

"What if I get threatened again, dad? Mom?" My mother threw a troubled glance over her shoulder. "What will you both do?"

Would they lock me away again? Never let me leave the house in the fear that I'd be hurt?

My dad smiled warmly. "We'll stick by you - that's what we'll do. We'll be there, and, if you care as much for Sasha as we think, then you need to be there for him. So will we."

Mom let the grimace she was sporting fade into a sympathetic grin. "We'll help all we can, sweetheart. We've grown. As much as it pains me to say, we can't hold you back any more."

"But," my dad added holding up a finger. "That doesn't mean we're not going to try and keep this from happening again."

"How?" I asked in puzzlement.

"You'll see," he purred. "I'm going to make a call."

He then immediately turned around in his seat, and I watched his broad shoulders bobbing around and heard the familiar click of buttons on his phone as he dialed someone. My mother would glance over at his lap every so often.

I just sat there and wondered who the hell he could be making a call to. Was this a Marine thing? Was he calling in a favor? Or was he calling in an F-35 to blow up my school in a quick, screaming run?

I grew even more silent as he held the phone up to his ear.

"Yes, hello," he said kindly. "This is Sergeant major Luther Kendrick...yes, it's been a while. I was wondering...no, no he's fine. Yes. I was wondering if Crowley is still there."

I gasped. Officer Crowley! He was the investigator who took up my case when I was injured back in my old school. He singlehandedly exposed all of my perpetrators, and he was also one of my father's best friends.

For a few minutes the quiet took root again. It was stifling, and then the conversation started up once more. "Yes I'm still here. He is? Fantastic. Would it be too much to ask if I could speak to him? I know it's late, but the matter's urgent. Yes. Yes, thank you."

He was always so diplomatically charming, my father. He could talk the blue from the sky if he wanted. I was feeling rather giddy.

Both my mother and I jumped as my dad grew jubilant and cried out excitedly. "CROWLEY! How are you? Been busy at the office? Oh, I bet..." Then commenced the frivolous talking up for a good ten minutes; I zoned out until they got down to business, and then I listened so intently that my ears began to ache from being perked so long. "Listen, can I ask a favor? We need your help again. No, no, Rudy's fine; it's actually one of his friends. Yeah - yeah, from what he told us it's pretty bad...Oh, I'm sure they could, but I trust you more to find the bastard. Who knows how long it'll take them here, and I know you can flush them out quick and keep it from happening again...yeah, you know it always does. Mmhmm...yeah...yeah...no, I'm not sure." He turned around to me. "Does your school have a resource or safety officer?"

No it didn't. I shook my head and he frowned, and then he turned back around to continue talking with Crowley.

"No, they don't. Mmhmm...yeah, that'd be great. You think your chief will allow it? Okay...okay, yeah, do look into it. I think this counts as a special/urgent case...no, the boy it happened to is a really sweet kid...no, never...Oh I'm sure they will, so you can call the office here for the details. Yeah, no - thanks, Crowley; this is your specialty after all. Mmhmm...yeah...yeah." He turned around again and peered warmly at me. He winked and, for some reason, I knew what they were talking about. I blushed. "Yeah, I think he has a thing for him, but that doesn't change the fact of the matter...yeah, of course...alright, keep me posted, brother. I expect to hear from you soon...yeah, you'll have to come and spend some time with us - we can cook out. Alright, thanks so much. You know words can't express my gratitude...okay, bye, bye."

He closed his phone with an emphatic pop, and sighed somewhat in relief. My mother patted him gently on the stump of his leg and smiled.

I didn't know what to say. If this worked, then Sasha would be safe. No, any other homosexual furs in my school would be safe. I would be safe. My chest swelled with gratitude for my quick-witted father.

"Dad," I mumbled.

He turned back and smiled at me. "Don't worry, son. Everything will be alright. You know Crowley; he'll be here. I'll bet you by the end of the week, no less."

"Thank you," was all I could manage.

I eagerly whipped out my phone and asked Lee how Sasha was. It took a while, but when he answered he said he was sleeping. That was good. I told him what my father had done and he was ecstatic to hear the news. He seemed just as happy as I was at knowing that, soon, whoever had hurt Sasha would be caught. I was grateful to him - God I was. If he hadn't spotted Sasha then who knows what might have happened. I was lucky to have such a great friend, and - since I couldn't be there - I was glad he was close by if Sasha needed him, albeit a little jealous. I did want to be there, but Lee and Sasha were just friends. Lee wasn't even gay.

When I asked about the police Lee told me that Sasha's parents intended to notify them and file a report in the morning. They didn't want the cops milling around the house right then as Sasha needed to recover, and they were afraid the excitement would do more harm than anything. I felt a little relief, but anxiousness still tugged on my conscience like a rope made of barbed wire.

I asked Lee for Sasha's address, and he gave it to me. I knew I wanted to go there, but I didn't want to disturb the sleeping fox. He needed to rest. As much as it pained me, I told myself he'd be alright until tomorrow; I'd go see him then. I figured that the Greenwood trip was off anyway, so that opportunity was amiss.

Lee: Do you want me to ask?

I'd told him about the lake trip, and, although I guaranteed him that Sasha's parents wouldn't allow it, he insisted on clarifying for me. I reluctantly typed back.

Red: If you want.

L_ee: _K. Hold on.

We had pulled into the driveway of my house when he replied.

Lee: Conall talked them into still going. He says that it'll be good for Sasha. Cooping him up wouldn't make matters better, and we kind of out voted them three to two on the subject.

I couldn't believe it. I mean, I was glad, but from the way Sasha described his parents I expected them to do like my own had done and never let him see the light of day again. God - to say I was relieved would have been an understatement. I did not want him to go through what I did after being hurt. He needed support, and with all of us on his side he had it.

Lee: Uhm...do you think I could come, too?

I was all too eager to have Lee there.

Red: Of course, dude. I insist on it. It'll be great!

Lee: Thanks.

Red: Should I pick you up?

Lee: That's alright. I'll drive.

Red: Alright, bro. And thank you.

Lee: For what?

Red: For being such a great friend.

He never answered me. I assumed he'd gotten distracted with something else, but even when I was laying down for bed an hour later he hadn't replied. I shrugged it off. Maybe I had been too sentimental. I knew how sensitive Lee was.

Sleep was a far off notion for me that night. Both a mixture of anxiety and excitement kept me awake for hours after I shut my lamp off and pulled the covers up over me. Sasha was going to be okay, his attacker would soon be caught, and I was going to get to be with him in a handful of hours. I was glad about that. Still, though, my guilt ate away at me from the inside for knowing this occured and for letting it.

That jealousy was still there, too. I felt a little apprehensive about telling Lee he could go with us, but who was I to tell my best friend no because I felt a little possessive of Sasha? I wasn't sure, but nothing could happen. Besides, Sasha probably would've wanted him to go after all he had done, and, like me, he deserved a little relaxation time after working so hard during for the football game. Coach Corbin and Assistant coach Trace never let him rest. This trip would be good for him.

I breathed gently in and out and closed my eyes.

It'd be good for all of us.