Chapter Text
The weather was getting warmer. The field was already planted, and some species of plants had already started to blossom.
Normally, by this time of year Mrs. Brisby and her family would move to their summer house, in between the roots of a great tree by the stream, which would keep them fresh during the summer. But now that their other house was held safely on the lee of the stone there was no need to hurry, and her family had been able to stay even after little Timothy had fully recovered from his illness.
Brisby's calculation of the new upcoming moving day was interrupted by a familiar voice yelling from the distance, above her.
"Mrs. B! Mrs. Brisb! Hey, Brisby!" It was Jeremy.
No small animal enjoys being startled from above and Jeremy could be tiring quite often, but he was also a good friend and Mrs. Brisby was nothing if not patient and kind.
"Jeremy!" She raised an arm to keep the sun off her eyes as she looked up. "Keep it down, or you'll attract the cat."
"That- Yes, sorry Mrs. B, it's just that's exactly what I intended to tell you uh- Uhm, well, the cat!"
Brisby didn't wait for him to finish, she saw it in his face and the way his eyes alternated between her and the near distance. She held the herbs she was holding with one arm close to her chest and broke into a three-legged run between the taller weeds, changing course entirely.
The cat jumped forward and ran after her, and she let go of the herbs in a frenzy to lose it. This time the stream was too far away for her to hide there, but there was a small, twisted tree nearby, and she ran to hide in one of the spaces between its roots.
The cat soon crashed into it and started looking for her hiding spot, its paws each larger than her, scraping the bark and wood as it searched.
Mrs. Brisby believed that she was in a spot only deep and small enough to be safe, but just in case she was wrong, she chose not to move and waited out the danger.
"Don't worry Mrs. B, I'll distract it!"
"No!" Brisby cursed herself for not being able to hold the exclamation, but the harm was already done, the cat doubling down on its efforts. "Just go to my house and tell my kids to wait inside!"
"Uh, don't worry, I got this!"
"No Jeremy, just tell my kids..."
"I can't hear you Mrs. B, I'm going in!"
Fortunately, or unfortunately, the crow would much rather face the cat than her kids, and it dived in from the cat's behind.
Now, corvids are in general some of the most intelligent species of animals, regardless of their personality traits and quirks, and this intelligence often comes with a good dose of malice. Jeremy was mostly friendly and well-mannered, but any crow that values itself gets a good kick out of mocking a cat.
Especially a big, fat and scary cat like Dragon.
Jeremy was merciless, pulling its tail, croaking and mocking him until the cat couldn't ignore its instincts and followed him away from the tree.
Mrs. Brisby had to admire the theatrics of the crow as she hurried home. It was still a bit far, and once she was at a safe distance and could still hear the ruckus of her friend and the cat, the adrenaline settled as she realized the danger she had just been in.
She kept noticing the different ways in which the rats of NIMH had affected her. For one, the cat was a lot more active and dangerous now that the rats were not around to drug him. She had been very lucky that silly crow was her friend, and that he had spotted the cat in time to warn her. The whole thing got her thinking of what would have happened if he hadn't.
Mice don't usually like to dwell on how short their lives are. They know this and they carry on as much as they can. But now she knew her children were not normal mouse children. They would not age at a normal rate...
She kept wondering what Johnathan would have done if he was still alive. Would he have wanted to leave with the rats? Would he have told her the truth, eventually, when the differences were starting to be noticeable? She couldn't rely on him now. She had to face the facts herself.
She knew if she was gone for too long nothing would stop Martin from looking for her, and maybe one of his siblings would follow. They would soon fall under the protection of the shrew, and maybe Jeremy... and they would probably never reach Thorn Valley.
When the rats left, she had a perfectly good excuse to stay: Timothy was sick and bedridden. Later on, she had told her kids that they would meet the rats again when they were older...
But when exactly would that be?
She had to make an effort to leave these thoughts aside as she approached her house on the lee of the stone, with Martin, to her relief, waiting there for a change. Instead of running off somewhere, he was sitting on the porch, playing with some sticks. At the sight of her, the little one jumped up and ran to her.
"What happened?"
"What do you mean, Martin? Nothing happened."
"I heard Jeremy making a ruckus," he had learned that word not too long ago. "Was it the cat?"
Mrs. Brisby took a deep breath. "It’s alright. Let's go inside, it'll get dark soon."
Martin made that sort of face, like thinking something he knew she wouldn't like. "You were going to get herbs, where are they?"
Her kids were very smart indeed, sometimes she wondered if the things they would say and do were because they were Johnathan's or just things kids say.
Teresa came up to meet them, "Oh mom, you’re here! Did you get the herbs?"
"No, dear. I didn't get the chance."
"She was chased by the cat."
"Oh," Teresa shrugged her shoulders and turned back to the kitchen. "I made nut soup!"
"Thank you," said Brisby as she followed her.
"Would you like some tea, mom?"
"Yes, thank you," she sat at the table and took a nice deep breath, taking in the smell of dinner getting ready.
Sitting right next to her was Timothy, reading a book too big for him. It was one of their father's of course, he's the one who brought reading to the family and Timothy loved it. He had been on a reading streak while he was sick, which had greatly helped him get over it. By now he had ran out of books to read at least twice over, but he kept doing it.
"Which one is that one, dear?"
"Geography," responded Timmy, with his adorable little boy's voice, despite pronouncing the big word perfectly.
"Oh, what part of it?"
Timmy dragged the book towards her and pointed at a spot on a map. She couldn't make any sense of it, but he told her.
"We are here, but we are so small it doesn't show on the map," then he moved his finger to another spot, at a distance, "and this is a natural reserve. I think that's where the rats are."
Brisby's eyes widened. She managed to collect herself in order not to show her shock.
"What makes you think so?"
"Justin said they were going south and they had a long way ahead. And this is a natural reserve. It is the one place where humans wouldn't bother them."
Brisby looked back at the book. She didn't understand anything. Then she looked at her youngest son. "Who told you that?"
Timmy looked like he was biting his tongue, but he didn't have to for very long.
"I did," said Martin, coming up to the table. "You said when we’re older we would meet them, but you don't know where Thorn Valley is, right? So what did you have planned?"
Brisby felt overwhelmed. Truth is she didn't have anything planned. Her plans had always been about living out her days as happy and peaceful as possible with her family. They hadn't involved any rats, nor owls or ravens, and especially not super intelligent... rodents with scientists chasing after them.
She sighed. Teresa placed a sweet-smelling cup of tea next to her.
"Boys, give mom a little rest, she must be tired."
"She wouldn't be so tired if she let us help."
"It’s dangerous outside," Brisby answered.
"But you go out alone! And I am old enough to help."
Mrs. Brisby sighed again, and took a sip of tea to calm herself.
It was normal for the children to be reeling about the latest, most exciting thing that had happened, especially after Timmy had recovered and started asking what he had missed, but she couldn't just give them evasive answers and wait it out. This would affect their lives.
They were still too young to understand all of it. She didn't know how she would explain it to them, it had taken her some time to take it all in.
She remembered what Nicodemus had said to her: 'We cannot live like rats anymore, we know too much.' Was it fair, or even wise, to let her children grow in the field like normal mice, away from others like themselves?
Maybe it would be good enough while they were little, but what could happen when they grew older?
She imagined one of her kids falling in love with a normal mouse and having kids like Jonathan had done with her, repeating the story but now without the rats to help. She imagined a small community of super smart, long-living mice growing around farmer Fitz-Gibbon's farm, and reaching the same conclusion as the rats had...
It was a recipe for disaster.
"I think we could ask Jeremy,'' Martin continued, as Teresa served the tea. " And if we need some extra help, we can ask The Great Owl. He is friends with the rats, and mom already saw him once, right mom?"
Brisby avoided the question by taking another sip of tea, but her inquisitive kids had their inquiring eyes stuck on her. Even Cynthia, the youngest, was now bouncing while holding onto her.
"I guess," she said.
"...That's what I'm gonna do," continued Martin, "I'm gonna ask Jeremy to take me to the owl, see if he knows where the rats went."
"Martin!" exclaimed Teresa.
"What? Mom did it, and I'm old enough!"
"No you're not."
"Am too!"
"Kids, please. Let's sit down to dinner."
She lifted Cynthia to sit on her lap. The children sat around her in tense silence and Teresa started serving the soup.
"Timmy, put the book away." Timmy didn't answer. "Timmy, put the book away," she insisted.
"Why are you so bossy?" asked Martin.
Teresa froze with the serving spoon halfway between the pot and one of the plates, frustration on her face.
"Why don't you serve yourself?" she asked and dropped the spoon.
"Fine," said Martin, and he got to it.
"Timmy, put the book away, it's gonna get dirty."
"Just five more minutes," he said with the softest voice.
"Timmy, you have read the same thing like five times already because we don't have any more books, why can't you just drop it already?"
"Hey! Leave him alone."
"Kids..."
"Oh, you're one to talk. Think you're so big, why don't you help some more around the house?"
"I'm busy! I'm doing stuff out there."
"Doing what? Getting mom worried sick, playing with sticks?"
"Kids! That's enough!"
The silence was deafening after the volume had been rising exponentially.
They all sat, and Martin muttered something really low and tense.
"What was that?"
"Teresa-"
"I'm going to kill the cat."
The silence turned cold.
"What- Martin-" Mrs. Brisby didn't know how to respond.
"I can do it. I’m going to kill the cat."
"You can't kill a cat."
"Yes I can. I'm gonna do it. Then it will not bother us anymore."
"Martin, this is serious."
"I am serious. I can feed him some poisonous berries, or build something to shoot him from a safe spot, the rats-"
"Forget about the stupid rats! You’re a mouse, you’re a kid, you can't- And Timmy, put down the damn book!"
"Teresa!"
The girl turned to her mother like she had actually burned her.
"You should calm down and apologize to your brothers."
Teresa looked at her like she had said the cruelest, most vile, incomprehensible thing. She let out a frustrated gasp and got up to leave.
"Teresa!"
"You-!" Brisby looked at her in shock as the girl fumbled for words, tears peeking at her eyes "You’re a liar."
"What?"
"The whole story about the rats and the owl is just a stupid tale, it's all nonsense!"
Teresa ran off. She had never done that, Brisby had no idea what had her so on edge. She took a deep breath.
"Martin..."
"I'm sorry."
"You'll have to apologize to her too."
"I know. But I meant it."
"Mean what?"
"I am doing useful stuff out there, and I am going to kill the cat."
"No, you can't do that."
Martin went quiet and started eating his soup.
"This is not a game, Martin. Look, us mice... We have to be careful. The world out there is dangerous, that's just the way it is. You can't kill everything that threatens you."
Silence. Brisby turned to Cynthia. "Sweetie, why don't you help Timmy put away the book? Hurry up," she placed her down. The little one, thrilled to have something to do, ran up to her brother and made grabby paws, only to have Timmy slowly, quietly get down and go into the room with the book and his sister in tow.
"Martin, I don't think your siblings are ready to hear this, but maybe you should now. Your father was killed by that cat. He was very careful, he had done the same thing many times, and he still- Well. The cat is dangerous."
"I know," Martin said, not a shade of surprise in his face. "Dad was... very smart. The only thing that could have gotten him was that cat."
Brisby didn't know how to respond to that. At that moment, Cynthia came back trotting from the room, alone.
"Where is Timmy?"
"Says he's not hungry," she said with all her innocence, and climbed a chair to get to the table. Mrs. Brisby, Martin and her had to eat alone.
Mrs. Brisby finished as soon as she could and took a plate upstairs, where she found Teresa curled up at the door, looking out into the night with big sad eyes. She sat next to her.
"Here, you should eat up. It's very good, and it's still a bit warm."
Teresa sighed. "I’m not hungry, mom."
"Please, dear. Do eat it. It'll make you feel better."
Teresa sat more straight, took the plate and gulped it all down like it was a bowl of water and she had been thirsty. Then she handed it over without another word.
"Alright, now. Can you tell me why you are so cross today?"
She hummed. "It's nothing."
"Please, Teresa, I want to be able to talk. I want to know if something happened. And you will find that talking really helps. It’s a thing that families do," she caressed her daughter's cheek, tracing the remains of half-dried tears on her soft fur. "Are you mad at me because you help me so much and I told you off? I understand it is not easy, and you do help me a lot. I appreciate it."
"...Cynthia is so rowdy. I try to keep her in check, but she never gets tired."
"Little kids are like that. We have to pick our battles."
"Auntie Shrew said," she sighed, "she said the whole rats thing is nonsense and we have to focus on taking care of the house. Especially now that dad's gone."
Brisby sighed. That was it. The situation was tense, but this is what triggered it.
"The shrew means well, but she can be very tiring. You must be patient, hear her advice and take it with a grain of salt."
"But mom, Martin keeps saying he's gonna go see the rats, and he disappears all the time, and now he wants to kill the cat!"
"Well, he is getting big, you can't force him to do all things your way."
"But mom, he- Why can't he stay home and help? Why didn't you say something? He's always running off!"
"I'll try to talk to him, alright? He's so much like your father... A little more grumpy, perhaps."
Teresa let out a huff that could have been a laugh at another time. She counted it as a win.
"Mom, I’m worried. He's capable of trying it."
"...Have a little faith in your brother, Teresa. You will not always see eye to eye, you'll have to be patient with each other, find common ground, and keep helping each other. That's what families do, and it's part of growing up. You can't keep throwing fits and arguing like little kids, you're-"
She was about to say 'growing up', but she stopped as a realization hit her. Nicodemus said the injections affect the growing process. She would have aged while Johnathan remained young... But how did they affect her children?
Children, and especially mouse children, grow up so fast... But what if her kids didn't? What if they grew at a slower rate? What if they stayed kids for longer than a normal mouse would? Teresa was doing a great job helping around the house, it was normal to be overwhelmed, and Martin claimed to be all grown-up and it was getting hard to keep him in range, but that was also normal for a big kid...
Maybe the way they aged affected each of them differently, sometimes the things you inherit from your parents are random or unexpected, and sometimes they jump over one generation...
She shook these thoughts.
"You're like him too, you know?"
"Really?"
She nodded. "Always running around, keeping himself busy... He liked to be helpful."
Teresa smiled and they shared a hug. They stayed like that for a moment.
.
That night she lay awake looking at the ceiling. There was once again something she had to do even though she didn't want to, for the well-being of her children. The kind of thing that is hard to decide and even harder to execute, and normally gets postponed.
She couldn’t do what Johnathan did. Though maybe he did plan on talking to her, the moving plan was still in preparation… She wished-
She had to move her family. Not to the summer house, that made no sense anymore. They might as well start preparing to move for Thorn Valley.
She rolled onto her side and tried not to think of all that she needed to do and what saying goodbye to everything she knew would be like. She could start doing that tomorrow. Now she needed sleep.