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Bowie

Summary:

Ricky comes to school with a service dog! The gang try hard not to disturb it, but- Penny doesn't handle the new member of the choir well.

Final Draft version, Repost!

Notes:

This a reupload from my drafts collection! Minor things changed with the final draft, instead of two chapters I kept it as one big one, the way I wrote it originally.

Hope you enjoy! Again!

Work Text:

 

No one thought choir was going to be any different today than it normally was.

Ocean was going to talk everyone to death, the choir head taking charge after Father Marcus’ passing would do the bare minimum before shortly being fired- Ocean always found a way to get the substitutes removed somehow. She was determined on getting the best person to lead the choir to success, but, no one was good enough in her standards.

So, when Ricky came in, the steady beats of his crutches against the floor followed by rapid fire tip- tapping- everyone turned to look.

“Oh, my goodness!” Constance gasped, surprise quickly turning to excitement as she clasped her hands in front of her mouth.

Mischa nearly dropped his phone, “Woah! Dude! How did you sneak a whole dog into the school?”

Ocean followed suit, instantly assuming this was apart of one of Ricky and Mischa’s cheap pranks. “Come on Ricky! No animals allowed- did you steal this dog?”

Noel had been glued to his phone before catching sight of the golden retriever, jumping back in his chair, “Oh god!”

He pulled his legs up, wrapping an arm around his khakis, to defend himself from stray hairs that didn’t have the chance to shed. The mix of shock and fear from the man had Ricky laughing, a voiceless sound. He shot Ocean a smirk, the leash had been tied to the belt around his hip, connecting to a bright orange vest wrapped around the canine’s chest. It was- not a welcome addition to the Potts family, at least not to 14 of the 17 members. Ricky had to come first, that was the main rule of the home ever since his disability progressed to mobility challenges, and long before he lost the ability to speak- so when he was recommended to get an animal to support his daily activities- Mr. and Mrs. Potts were on board from day one.

Sure, it was… an adjustment, having such an active, attentive animal around the house.

It was a bit easier that Bowie was mostly a working dog- he knew the moment his shift was over when Ricky removed the Velcro and straps that kept the orange fabric hanging around his waist. Frisbee and catch were never going to be realistic parts of their downtime, not with Ricky’s condition.

But God- being around something so excited and full of life-

Bowie was turning out to be a wonderful aid to the Zolarian Messiah, defending Ricky from the dogs who knew nothing of the wonders of their Feline Utopia.

And he was a pretty good support outside of Ricky’s daydreams too, a lot less people bumped into him or slowly treaded ahead now that he had a dog in tow. Though the indifference he was used to faded for a lot of…staring, now that Bowie was around.

Not at Ricky, but the dog.

No one really knew what to do when there was a golden retriever with such a gaudy vest and big patches stitched into it that screamed “DON’T TOUCH” “DON’T PET” “DON’T DISTRACT”.

And the choir were no different.

He couldn’t blame them, no one in St. Cassian had a service animal before- there was many only one blind guy in all of Uranium and he settled for the walking stick.

Constance was about to charge for Bowie hands first until Ocean grabbed her waist, roughly pulling her back with panic in her eyes.

“No! Constance! You’re not supposed to touch them when they’re in uniform!” She scoffed, but even her haughty correction couldn’t make her relaxed. She kept diverting her gaze from Bowie, looking everywhere but the dog.

“If you touch them, they can forget what they’re doing, and Ricky could be abandoned by his own dog!”

“A service dog isn’t like a baby bird, Ocean,” Mischa remarked dryly.

“…Why are you doing that?” Constance pointed as she swiveled her head around, always opposite of Bowie.

“You’re not supposed to make eye contact. That could mess up his performance.”

Ricky chuckled, quickly signing, you’re allowed to look Bowie in the eye as long as you don’t call him over or anything like that.

"Is it... house trained?" Noel wrinkled his brow, his face wrapped in disgust. “It’s not going to leave little presents in the choir room?”

Of course, not- he’s house-trained, and school-trained. Ricky joked, but his attempt to lighten up the tension didn’t reach Noel.

Do you not like dogs, Noel?

Mischa audibly gasped, loud and hard, turning to smack Noel’s shoulder. “Dude, bro- How can you be afraid of dogs? They mad loyal,”

Noel whined, loosely holding his arm where Mischa playfully hit him, acting like he’d been wounded in battle.

“I’m not scared of dogs!” He claimed, though his voice went up a couple octaves, forcing him to clear his throat. “I just don’t like what they do to uniforms! Or furniture! Or floors!”

“Their claws are not that sharp, Noel Gruber,” Mischa remarked plainly, but was quickly corrected.

“The fur! I can’t stand the fur!” He groaned, pressing his fists tight into his chest as he glared daggers at Bowie, just standing at Ricky’s side with his tail wagging slowly.

“The slobber can completely ruin a face wash routine months in the making! And all it takes is one little hair- and you’re furrier than the dog!”

It’s not so bad, Noel. Ricky shrugged. I mean, I have 14 cats, and you barely notice the hair after a while.

“How on earth do you come to school everyday without being a walking hairball, anyways?” Noel asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. It couldn’t be as easy as keeping boundaries with the little monsters, cats didn’t know the meaning of the word.

My mom irons and lint roll me down before I get on the bus.

“Aha!” Noel pointed, “See! So it’s not so easy!”

“Come on Noel, the teachers won’t mind a few stray strands on your uniform,” Ocean pointed out, pressing her thumb and forefinger together.

"Though I agree,” She turned to face Bowie, shooting him a pitying smile, “The drool is too disgusting to overlook, Ricky.”

“He’s not going to bark during our rehearsals, is he?” She followed up.

No. He’s trained to only bark to catch my attention or other’s if I’m in trouble.

“Aww, but wouldn’t that be cute?” Constance clasped her hands together, “It’d be like he’s singing along!”

She gasped dramatically, “We could be like that movie Air bud!”

“The dog doesn’t sing in Air bud.” Mischa frowned.

“Dog’s don’t know how to sing, Constance, their brains aren’t complex to replicate notes and melodies the way we can,” Ocean shot the idea down, putting a big, angry frown on the usually cheerful girl’s face.

“Geez you guys, live a little.” She grumbled as she went to find her place up on the bleachers, where she normally stood for their choir practice.

Guided up by Bowie, Ricky went to his spot in the front, but he did not sit down. His doctors thought it was good for his legs, to keep up their strength by standing for long periods of time, as much as his parents worried it would do the exact opposite. But Ricky just didn’t want to be the only kid on his ass when he was already the only kid signing along instead of singing.

“Alright, so should we start with Consecration or mix it up with Lo, How a Rose?” Ocean asked cheerfully as she shuffled through the piles of sheet music, seeing their substitute had either disappeared for the moment- or left entirely. A choir as small as theirs wasn’t something a lot of chorus leader’s could get invested in, Father Marcus had so much faith in these kids- you had to be a real patient man to deal with them for longer than a day, let along three years before your death.

“We should start with Pitbull.” Mischa suggested with a big grin, twisting his cap backwards.

“Mischa- “

“What! Mr. World Wide’s a musical genius- we would blow concert away with our modern take on Church music,” He suggested with such enthusiasm, just getting a fatigued growl from Ocean.

As usual- they did not notice Penny wasn’t present.

Even after she got closer to the group, it was a mixed bag if she’d stand out like a sore thumb, staring and sullen- or completely blend into the background like one of those Predator alien movies Mischa liked to ramble about.

They only truly noticed when the hard wood door creaked open, slow and long- enough to make Constance shiver with fear.

The way she entered, you would’ve thought she was a ghost, coming to get her revenge for her murder. But that was just Penny for you, always…with an interesting entrance.

“Penny! You’re not usually late,” Ocean remarked with a trying smile, but she wasn’t sure if that was entirely true. How many times had Penny shown up late- or not at all, and the gang didn’t notice?

“I’m sorry...” Her light, sweet voice started, her back turned to the group as she tried to close the door behind her as quietly as possible. Ricky didn’t understand why, it’s not like they had been in the middle of singing or anything. “I had to get a new buckle for my shoe from lost and found- “

She slowly turned around, her doll pressed tight in her arms the way she always did when classes were over, and it was just the choir. Blonde tight curls, dull black eyes, it was like looking at a little Penny. They shared the same blank, wide eyed stare- until she caught wind of the dog sitting beside Ricky.

“…There’s a golden retriever in here.” She said, unsure if anyone else realized from how calm they looked.

She clutched the doll tighter to her chest, dark green eyes staring at deep brown ones, her and the dog locked in a sort of staring contest. Her shoulders raised ever so slightly, and she had not taken one step away from the door- Penny didn’t show fear the same way the other kids did. She rarely burst into a terrified yell or jumped back dramatically the way Noel might’ve, hell even Ricky would stumble back if there had been a giant furry monster in the choir room. The little twitches and silence were how the choir could tell Penny was scared.

“That’s Ricky’s new service dog!” Constance said excitedly, hoping a smile would be enough to reassure their friend.

His name’s Bowie. Ricky signed carefully, just barely getting the auburn haired girl to glance at him before she resumed gaping at his dog.

“Don’t touch him, Penny- he could get demoted back to trainee.” Ocean said with such seriousness that Ricky was certain the ginger believed she was right. For the most successful girl in town, she hadn’t gotten a wraparound accessibility methods for people with disabilities.

Or people with disabilities for that matter.

It was different with Ricky; he’d been around their whole lives- Penny was one of the few people in Uranium with a disability she couldn’t see.

“…There’s a golden retriever in here.” Penny restated, grasping her doll tight to her chest, carefully smoothing out the lace on it’s porcelain arm. She hadn’t taken her eyes off the dog at all, it was even longer than the stand offs Ricky had imagined in his head during Algebra 12.

He realized, upon closer look, she was staring at Bowie’s mouth, her lips turning down in a frown when he started to pant and gave her a peak of that drooly, toothy grin.

“Penny, are you okay?” Constance started, but just hearing her name out loud was all it took for Penny to march to the piano room beside her and shut the door tight, sliding down past the glass window until her shadow was the only thing visible under the frame. It wasn’t an especially big room- sure enough for one medium sized piano and maybe two people to sit down, but with all the piano music and sheet stands piled up in the corner, it no better than a hoarder’s closet.

“She scared of dogs?” Mischa asked after a few moments of silence, everyone staring at the door’s window, waiting for Penny to peak through, but not even a curl of red hair could be seen.

“I don’t know,” Ocean shrugged, watching Ricky shift his weight into his crutches, making his way from the front of the bleachers across the room. That was all it took for the others to follow behind, awkwardly shuffling around and a good few feet away from Bowie, who’s only concern was Ricky.

He frowned, leaning towards the glass, Penny was right against the door with her back against the wood, head down- she’d wrapped her whole torso around her doll. From the way she stroked it’s hair, smoothing out ever bump in it’s lacey dress, to the tension in her back- she was disturbed.

The way just minutes- barely even five with a dog could get her so panicked, she couldn’t of had a good history with canines. This wasn’t something you could just shrug away, it wouldn’t be easy for the choir if every hour or so Penny was sent into meltdowns because of Bowie’s presence.

Ricky didn’t want to scare Penny.

“Penny, sweetie,” Noel gently spoke to the girl through the door, they knew well enough knocking on the door would just frighten her more when she was in this state.

“Are you alright?”

“Can you tell us what’s wrong?” Constance squeaked.

The sound of fingers running through synthetic hair paused, it wasn’t a pretty noise to the rest of the choir- but the texture and the rhythm was the only way Penny knew to calm herself down.

“There is a dog in the choir room.” She piped up.

Noel sighed, hiding his stress behind a weary smile- though it was not like she could see him trying. “Yes, sweetie, we know there’s a dog in the choir room today. That’s Ricky’s service dog, so he can get around.”

“…He’s never had one before.”

The fancy boy turned his head towards Ricky, waiting for an answer so he could translate. It wasn’t going to work if Ricky signed to her through two inches of solid wood- and wouldn’t even stand to watch Ricky communicate through the window.

It’s getting harder for me to get around now. My therapist says a dog would help when it starts getting harder for me to open doors with my crutches, and Bowie can pick up and do a lot of things for me I can’t anymore. My parents don’t have to help me put on my loafers anymore.

That enthusiasm Ricky and Noel shared did not reach through Penny’s ears.

Are you afraid of dogs?

“…I don’t like dogs…”

That’s not the same thing.

“I’m not afraid.” Penny’s voice rose in volume, betraying her words. “Not what they could do to me.”

“It’s well trained, Penny- it wouldn’t even lick you unless you told it to!” Ocean claimed with a nervous smile, she still didn’t really get the purpose of a service’s dog training. It wasn’t just about what it wouldn’t and couldn’t do so it wouldn’t get distracted and forget it’s owner.

Bowie started to whine, taking interest at the light thumping of Penny’s back rocking against the door, scratching at the wood before settling to lay down. He didn’t look upset- he was signaling. He knew Penny was freaking out. Ricky was surprised the dog could sense that in other people, though Penny was more emotionally incapacitated than himself- he only really ever needed Bowie to lay on his chest after a difficult day of physical therapy had him in tears.

If she’d been afraid for herself, she wouldn’t have hold herself up in another room where no one could get in. That wasn’t like her- she only tried to put up a barrier when protecting the choir.

Or her doll.

Did a dog hurt your doll? You’re afraid he’ll hurt your doll?

Noel’s face softened as he repeated the words through the glass, his voice light and softly.

The rocking slowed.

“…my doll, before dolly… was ripped up bad by one of the commune strays… thought she was a toy,” She clutched the object closer to her chest.

“The dog killed her.”

“Dogs can’t kill a doll, it’s not alive- “Ocean’s snippy grumble was interrupted, feeling a thick, bony elbow stick through her bicep.

Mischa glared down at her.

“Shut your mouth.”

Bowie’s not going to do that. He won’t. Service dogs are trained to focus on who they’re assigned to, who needs their help. Ricky looked down to the ground at Bowie, head down- upset he couldn’t do his job.

He helps me when I feel scared. When my body hurts, when I stumble more often than I did the week before. His chest felt heavy, it was hard to hear his words out loud coming from Noel.

“…He’s your dolly?” A little voice whispered.

He’s my dolly.

There was some shuffling, and a headful of auburn hair popped into view through the glass, hiding that dreadful pile of bent metal and worn music theory textbooks.

She did not move to open the door, both arms firm and tight, her doll hard against her breasts. Her cheeks were wet and her eyes puffy, but her face wasn’t torn or wracked with emotion. That’s when the choir knew she’d gotten all her crying out, she was very selective about when she pushed a feeling through her face.

“Please move from the door.” She said, “I don’t want to hit you or the dog.”

Ricky realized in that moment how crowded they’d been against the glass, peeping through at Penny the whole time- everyone took some big steps back while Ricky shuffled to the side. Bowie followed his lead at once, pressing his nose against the wood when Penny first twisted the knob.

Bowie opened it no problem, staring up at the wide eyed girl who stared back, unmoving from the carpeted floor that divided the rooms. He padded over, sitting down in front of her Mary-janes, tilting his head up to be level with hers.

Penny cocked her head, her shoulders slowly raising.

“…what is Bowie doing?”

He’s trying to support you. Ricky signed, no longer spoken for by Noel, now that Penny could actually see his hands.

He’s really good when I have panic attacks, he can tell when I’m about to have one. He heard you were in distress, he wants to help.

Penny’s face was unchanging.

“…I’m sorry, Bowie.”

She shuffled, lifting her doll up closer to her face.

“I’ll stick with Dolly. Thank you.”