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The big guy has his door closed.
It’s on accident, Jabberwocky thinks. It must be. His last family had tossed him out, but this one had brought him home. And the big man did not mean to leave him out here, alone in the dark of the night.
He just forgot. Is all.
Probably.
Jabberwocky is new. As new as his name. And it will take some time to adjust. It will take a reminder, or two. And Jabberwocky will obligingly take up the job.
He starts small. A scratch at the back of the bedroom door, to let the man know he’s been left behind. One paw, one swipe.
And—nothing.
The door stays closed. The big man stays behind it. Jabberwocky huffs.
Maybe the man did not hear him. He is very large, after all. And Jabberwocky is very…not.
But still. With the size of the man, one would think his hearing would be large as well. Then again though, humans did seem to have smaller ears, and—
It doesn’t matter. Jabberwocky will simply have to try harder.
He hits the door again—one paw, two swipes—but still, there is no response. Jabberwocky huffs a second time, sits back down, and does the only thing he can: he tosses his head back, and howls.
It is bad, maybe, but what else is he to do? His family, his pack, have all gone their separate ways—the girls to the left, the big man to the right—and Jabberwocky is out here, alone. Abandoned. Forgotten.
The door swings open wide. Jabberwocky startles, and scrambles back, but immediately straightens. Because—the big guy! He’s here!
Jabberwocky’s tail wags excitedly, happy that the man has come back for him, letting him know that there are no hard feelings, but the man only looks…mad.
Slowly, Jabberwocky’s tail stops wagging.
“What?” The big man asks, and he sounds mad, too. “You ate. You peed. You have a bed, and now it is time for bed. Go lie down on it.”
Jabberwocky blinks up at him, confused, and then tries to walk through the man’s legs, and into the room. The man blocks in his path. “No,” he says, sternly. “Your bed is over there.”
Jabberwocky blinks again, trying to make sense of that. Had the man…had the man meant to leave him out here?
He thinks of the girls taking him outside, and of peeing in the grass; thinks of the girls kissing him goodnight, and the big man laying a blanket down on the floor. He thinks of the big man retreating to his own room, behind his own door, and then blinks again, and finds the man staring back at him.
“Well?” The man asks, and makes a shooing motion. “Go on.”
Suddenly, Jabberwocky feels stupid, and as small as he is. If one family threw him away after years together, what was stopping the new one from doing the same after a night?
The man shoos him again. Jabberwocky whimpers.
But if sleeping alone, in the dark, is what it takes to get this family to keep him, then sleeping alone and in the dark is what Jabberwocky will do.
He whimpers again, softly, and turns, heading straight for the blanket in the corner. The big man watches him curl up on it, and only once Jabberwocky curls up on it does he close the door again.
Jabberwocky takes a breath, two; thinks, at least this space is bigger than the kennel he’d been in, and the second the thought crosses his mind, the door swings open again.
Jabberwocky lifts his head.
“Fine,” the man tells him. “But this is a one night deal.”
Jabberwocky hops up to his feet, and makes a beeline for the room.
It is not a one night deal.
In fact, every night, the routine goes like this: one girl and the smaller man—who is very excited to see him, and whom Jabberwocky is very excited to see in return—come home.They play, they eat, they bring him outside; the smaller man leaves, the other girl and the big man come home, and then everyone splits their separate ways.
The girls go to their room, and Jabberwocky follows the big man to his, content to tuck into the curve of his body and curl up beside him on his own pile of blankets.
But one day, the blankets move, and in its place is a giant box.
Jabberwocky sniffs at it, goes to lick it, and then promptly gets hauled away. “Let’s let the boys work, hm?” One of the girls says to him, and presses a kiss to his forehead. “What do you say to a walk?”
Jabberwocky’s ears perk up. His tail wags. The girl laughs. “Okay,” she says. “Walk it is.”
When they come back, there is a giant bed in the middle of the big guy’s room. Jabberwocky darts for it, jumps, and smacks into the side of it instead.
“Oh!” Someone says, and scoops him up when he goes sprawling. A turn of Jabberwocky’s head tells him it is the smaller man, and after a lick up the man’s face, Jabberwocky turns back toward the bed again, and wriggles toward it.
The man places him down on it, and immediately, Jabberwocky sniffs around. There is a blue blanket on spread over the bed, and a bunch of blue pillows by the top. Jabberwocky completes his search, finds that only the pillows smell like the big guy, and then promptly curls up beside them.
“Oh,” the smaller man says again. But the tone is different, softer. “Does he sleep in here?”
He’s smiling, as he says it. And the big guy’s face is turning…darker. Jabberwocky lifts his head up, intrigued, but all the big man says is, “Abandonment issues. He is lonely out there, by himself.”
The smaller man coos. “Poor baby,” he says, and comes to sit by Jabberwocky’s side. He scoops Jabberwocky into his lap, presses a kiss to the top of his head, and then turns toward the big guy again. Jabberwocky does too.
“Well thank you,” the smaller man says, “for helping him feel less alone.”
The big guy waves him off. The smaller man insists, “I’m serious. It means a lot to me that you’re doing this. And it means a lot to Jabberwocky, too. Doesn’t it, baby?”
He lifts Jabberwocky up, and says, in a voice that does not sound at all like his normal one, “Thank you for letting me sleep with you, Jean.”
But Jean only stares at them, his face turning even darker than before. “Tu as de la chance d'être mignon,” he mutters, and then turns, and leaves the room.
The bed is a good addition. The block Jean gives Jabberwocky to use to get onto the bed is even better. But best of all is laying in the bed with Jean, especially now that Jean has stopped telling him to “get on his own side” every few seconds.
Jabberwocky sighs, content, and rolls onto his back, pressing his side against Jean’s ribs, and letting his eyes close slowly. The room is dark, and quiet; Jean’s breathing is steady. Overall, it is a good place to rest. Jabberwocky’s favorite place to rest.
Until it isn’t.
The breathing changes first, so loud and so hard Jabberwocky can feel Jean’s body pushing against him in little bursts. And then—the noises. Something pained echoes through the air, and Jabberwocky rolls back onto his stomach, startled.
But there’s no threat. There’s nothing else in the room, just him and Jean, and Jean sounds hurt and in pain and so very scared.
Panicking, Jabberwocky scrambles up, across Jean’s chest, and over to his face. He licks Jean once, from his mouth to his nose, and instantly, gets a reaction.
Pain. Across his cheek where Jean’s hand hits him, across his side where he lands on the floor. Jabberwocky yelps, and scrambles onto his feet. Jean scrambles up.
“Jabberwocky,” he gasps, like he’s just realizing who was in bed with him, but Jabberwocky only backs away. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I—“
He swings his legs over the side of the bed, and stands up; stumbles over the blankets twisted around his feet, and once he’s gotten out of them, comes closer. Jabberwocky shrinks back further.
Jean stops, fidgeting. “I’m sorry,” he says again, breathing strange still. Fast, like Jabberwocky’s heart. “I didn’t know—this is why I tell you—!”
His words die out. His anger does too. He sinks down to his knees, and holds out a hand. Jabberwocky stares at it; Jean retracts it. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I do not know how to fix this. Are you hurt? Are you—?”
Jabberwocky does not move. Jean sits back on his haunches.
For a moment, he doesn’t move either. He just stares at Jabberwocky, and slides his hands up and down his thighs nervously. But then, he reaches out again, slower, more carefully. “I need to check you, to see if you are hurt,” he explains. “Can you let me?”
Jabberwocky does not understand. Not what Jean is asking, not what Jean wants by holding his hand out so much. As it stands, Jabberwocky has already been hit once. He does not want to be hit again.
Jean bites his bottom lip, and then pulls his hand back, and presses it over his eyes. With his other hand, he reaches back to pick up something off the little table beside the bed.
It’s a phone, Jabberwocky thinks, because Jean presses it to his ear, and a few moments later, says, “I’m sorry, I know it’s late. But something’s—something’s wrong with Jabberwocky.”
At the mention of his name, Jabberwocky tilts his head. Jean’s hand swipes at his face. “No,” he says. “No, he’s—he’s just sitting here, but he—Jeremy. I hit him.”
There’s a pause. A silence. “Not on purpose,” Jean says, and he sounds pained again. “I—I was asleep, and he licked my face. I didn’t know it was him. I didn’t think. I just swung and then—no,” he says slowly. “I don’t know. He won’t let me near him.”
Another silence. Another pause. Another swipe of Jean’s hand across his cheek. “Will that be enough?”
Jabberwocky stands, and comes closer, sniffing. Jean says, sniffling, “Okay. I will watch him. Good night, Jeremy. And I am sorry for—I am sorry.”
He hangs up, and puts the phone down. Carefully, Jabberwocky steps closer, and closer, and then clambers into Jean’s lap.
His paws go to Jean’s chest, his nose tips up towards Jean’s chin. He doesn’t want Jean to be sad anymore, he wants to lick away the tears, and make Jean happy again. But before he can get more than a single lick of Jean’s jaw, he’s being pushed away.
“You do not learn,” Jean huffs, and stands; places Jabberwocky on the bed.
“You are supposed to be a Moreau. I am supposed to look out for you, to take care of you, when Jeremy is not here. But I cannot have you licking me like that, and I will not forgive myself if something happens to you on my watch. If something happens to you because of me. So I need you to promise that you will not do it again.”
Jabberwocky blinks at him. Jean sighs. “Go to sleep,” he says, and finally moves to sit on the edge of the bed. “I will watch you.”
Jabberwocky blinks again, and tries to re-climb into Jean’s lap, but upon being pushed away, huffs, and curls up next to Jean’s thigh instead.
It is the fastest sleep of his life. His eyes close, and in no time, there’s a steady ringing echoing in the room. Jabberwocky lifts his head at the sound. Jean reaches for it.
“Imbécile,” he says after a moment. And then gets up, and tells Jabberwocky to stay put.
Jabberwocky does not. He hops off the bed and trails Jean to the front door, and there, finds him talking to the smaller man. “You are not supposed to drive this late.”
“You were upset,” the smaller man says. “And you said Jab was hurt. I’m not about to leave my boys alone when they need me.”
He says it, and then his face goes dark. No one speaks. Jabberwocky whines excitedly, and wiggles his butt, demanding attention. He does not know why Jean sounds annoyed to see the other man, when Jabberwocky is ecstatic. When Jean himself is usually much more pleased. “Jeremy.”
Jeremy ignores him, and bends to pet Jabberwocky. Jabberwocky whines again, and rolls over, letting Jeremy pet his belly. His tail thumps against the floor. Jeremy laughs.
“I missed you, too,” he tells Jabberwocky. “Yes I did, yes I did.” He pets him some more, and then pulls back, and when Jabberwocky rolls onto his feet, scoops him up.
Jabberwocky twists in his arms, happy to be closer to his face, and immediately starts licking his cheeks, his nose, his chin. Jeremy laughs some more, and steps inside. Jean closes the door behind him.
Jeremy says, “He seems okay to me.”
But Jean does not sound convinced. “I did not hit him lightly,” he says, voice cracking. “And he’s so small—“
“Dogs are stronger than you think,” Jeremy tells him. “Even the little ones. But seriously—I think if he was hurt he’d be biting my head off, or whining, or something.”
“I cannot be the reason you lose another dog,” Jean says, and Jeremy’s face softens.
“Hey,” he says, and reaches out toward Jean with his free hand. Jabberwocky turns too, wanting to help lick away Jean’s sadness again, but Jeremy is already swiping his thumb across his cheekbone, and clearing the tears there. “It wasn’t your fault that I lost the first one. But we can keep an eye on him, okay? I’ll take the couch, and if anything happens, we can take him to a vet tomorrow.”
“You cannot watch him from out here,” Jean tells him. “And I do not know if he would follow you. He has gotten used to my room.”
“I can take the floor?” Jeremy suggests.
Jean scoffs. “You are not sleeping on the floor.” He reaches out, as if to take Jabberwocky back into his own arms, and then thinks better of it. “The bed is big enough to share. We can all fit.”
With that, he turns, and Jabberwocky wiggles to go after him. He’s set down on the floor, and the moment he is, he takes off, after Jean, toward their room.
Jeremy follows.
By the time he gets there, Jabberwocky is already standing in the middle of the bed, tail wagging. It is not everyday he gets to see Jeremy, and now he gets to sleep with him. Jabberwocky yips, and then promptly gets shushed.
Jean stands by the end of the bed. Jeremy stops by the door.
“You’re sure about this?” He asks. “Because I really have no issue taking the—“
“It is not that,” Jean tells him. “You can climb in.”
Jeremy hesitates, but walks around the far side, and peels back the covers. He waits for Jean to slide beneath them, before sliding beneath them himself, and Jabberwocky waits for both of them to be settled before curling on top of the covers between them.
He is so happy he cannot stop his tail from thumping against the mattress, but Jeremy’s voice sounds solemn when he says, “He’ll be okay, Jean.”
They are facing each other. Facing Jabberwocky. Jean says, “I do not want to hit him again. I do not want to hit either of you.”
“You won’t,” Jeremy tells him, and when Jean opens his mouth to argue, presses, “but if you do, it’ll be on accident. And we’ll know it’s an accident. And we’ll still love and forgive you, just like we’ve done every other time, okay?”
Silence. Jabberwocky picks his head up to peer at Jean’s face, to see if he’s as sad as he was before, but Jean looks and sounds much more settled now. “Okay,” he says.
He reaches out, stroking his hand up Jabberwocky’s back. But then there’s another hand on Jabberwocky’s back, smaller than the first, and both hands freeze as they collide.
It takes a moment for them to pick up their movements again, and when they do, Jabberwocky puts his head back down, closes his eyes, and promptly drifts off to sleep.