Chapter Text
It's dinner time, purely because it's the meal they've returned to the hovel to have.
Mo waddles through the door, hooking the lock shut as Krill slides down his shoulder, onto the back of the busted couch. Today hasn't been the worst day they've ever had as Tunnel Rats by any stretch - they got home in time and with enough energy to actually make food this time, as opposed to the last week. Krill bounces to the seat, then the floor, and loops around to follow Mo as they march to the kitchen.
"Didn't think today would take so much out of me. Are you holding up, Maurice?" Krill asks, and Mo nods - though Krill isn't sure Mo actually heard him.
He reaches out, taking Mo's massive paw in his hands, which forces Mo to stop.
"Hey. Are you sure you're okay?"
Mo pauses... and finally, shakes his head.
Krill lightly pulls Mo towards the dining table, deviating from the intended path. Calling it a dining table is generous - it's more of a wooden table they'd had in the same general place for so long that it became the table they eat at, but there's no real room of difference between a dining room or kitchen for this dinghy place. The chairs are mismatched, one clearly lower to the ground and wider to fit Mo, while the other has at least four pillows stacked into a precarious tower for Krill, even if he spends more time sitting on the table itself.
Like right now, where Krill's scrambled up to sit in front of Mo's spot at the kitchen table, cross legged in front of him. Mo hesitates, but it feels nice to sit, so he allows it - instantly hunching over to lay his head into Krill's lap, arms loosely wrapped around Krill. Krill lifts his hat and sets it aside, blunt nails raking through Mo's fur.
"I know, honey. I know." Krill reassures, petting Mo's head as Mo shudders. He didn't expect it, but his eyes tear up, now that he's here. He can be safe here.
"The Friends of Humanity aren't going to get away with this." Krill mutters, and Mo shoves his nose against Krill's stomach. "We won't let them. You know we won't."
A rap of claws against the table and a small, heart breaking sob.
"What happened to Kaleb and Marcus isn't anything we could have prevented, Momo. We have the party system for a reason, and you know they didn't heed the warnings."
More tapping, more erratic.
"... No. They didn't deserve to be pelts. No one does."
Mo squeezes Krill as close as he can, and Krill continues to pet the top of his head.
"We're still here, Mo. If you want, we can recheck the locks, just to make sure, then we can make dinner and get your mind off this, okay?"
Mo sniffles.
"I know the grief won't end here, Mo, but at least let's have something to eat and a toast of that champagne we lifted last week, as a send off. It's a little late, but I'm sure they'd appreciate us saying goodbye."
... It feels like a long pause, but Mo eventually lifts his head and nods.
"It's gonna be okay. It'll hurt, but it'll be okay. I promise."
Mo scoops Krill into his arms again, hugging him tight to his chest as the tears flow.
Krill holds him,lightly petting the fur on his head, and stays quiet, for now.