Incident 4 This Is Not the Dog You’re Looking For #3
Dunham slinked a little sheepishly at his side—in perfect heel position, which cracked Ross up even further—all the way outside. It was entirely possible Ross was enjoying this due to the fact that he was utterly exhausted and dry drunk because of it. He didn’t care. He enjoyed it anyway.
Opening the back door to his little Civic, he let Dunham hop in and gave him a big, cheesy smile. “Who’s a good boy?”
Dunham growled at him, “Will ye quit?”
“Absolutely never,” Ross assured him brightly before shutting the door.
As he climbed into the driver’s seat, Dunham grumbled, “At least ye figured out where I was and came to get me. Oh, ye brought clothes too! Ye have me thanks.”
“Please, as if that took a detective to work it out. Early morning, you in dog form near the apartments? Of course someone called Animal Control and had you picked up.”
“But ye came to get me yerself, lad, that’s what makes me happiest.”
“Dunham, you are an irreplaceable gash in the fabric of reality. Your keening howl is like no other. If it faded from the world, the void left behind would be unfillable, and the mansions of silence would forever fill with our laments.”
A digestive silence lingered in the back seat. “Lad, be there coffee or spirits in that cup?”
“Sadly, only coffee.” Ross started up the car to get hot air flowing, then took a moment to text everyone in the group: The rescue party can go back home. I’ve got him.
Chloe: What?! Where was he?
Ross: The pound, where else?
Chloe: XDDD OMG that is priceless. He okay?
Ross: Just fine. And no, he’s never living this down
Heather: of course he isn’t
Dunham paused in changing in the back seat. “Ye’re not telling them where ye found me! Ross!”
Ross cackled openly as he backed out of the parking lot.
“I thought we be friends,” Dunham mourned as he pulled jeans on.
“Oh, we’re friends. Which is why I didn’t ask you to roll over and do tricks for me in there just to prove the point. And you owe me a case of beer.”
Dunham sighed again, at least a decade’s worth.
Ross’s phone rang again. He cheerfully slid to accept and punched the speakerphone option, as his car was too old to have Bluetooth capability. “Fuckery department, please hold.”
There was an audible hiccup. “Ross? Are you well?”
Oh dear. It had said Glenn was calling, hadn’t it?
Now, why hadn’t Ross picked up on that? He must be truly past his limits.
He meant to say something professional in response, but what came out of his mouth was, “I can’t decide if I want a hug, need an extra-large coffee, six shots of vodka, or two weeks of sleep.
But hey, I found our misadventuring werewolf, so all’s peaches and cream, right? ”
“That is very excellent news, yes,” Glenn responded carefully.
“There’s something wrong,” Ross whined at him. “Isn’t there? Why is there something else wrong?”
“I didn’t say—”
“It’s in your tone! You always sound like that when something’s on fire, or going to be on fire, or may be on fire tomorrow, and I’m tiiiiired.
Am I whining? I’m whining. But you don’t understand, I don’t have any fucks left to give.
I had a full bag of them yesterday, but those are exhausted.
I don’t have any more left. Today’s Ross has no more bandwidth, okay?
Whatever is wrong, I need you to tell it to Tomorrow Ross.
He has bandwidth still to spare. Today’s Ross, nope. ”
“Ross, I need you to slowly pull over to a curb and park. Alright? And then I need Dunham to finish driving you home.”
Ross found himself following the suggestion before he really even thought about it. “Okay? Why am I doing that? I can drive.”
Dunham’s heavy hand gripped his shoulder. “Actually, lad, you’re slurring a bit and bouncing between the lines. It’s giving me nausea. Let me drive.”
Oh. “Am I slurring?”
“You are, yes. I can hear the exhaustion in your voice. Let Dunham drive you home.”
He was tired. Ross could easily admit that even to himself. And if Dunham drove, he could power nap on the way back to the house. A power nap might give him enough energy to make it from car to house. Which meant sleeping in a bed instead of conking out in the car.
#sleepgoals
The seatbelt wanted to hold him hostage—he had a bit of a fight there—and Dunham was forced to help release him. Then he blearily climbed out and stood for a long second with no memory of what to do next. Why was he standing on the side of the road?
“Come on, lad, I’ve got ye.” Dunham took him by the elbows and steered him around to the other side of the car. “There ye go, slide in.”
Ross settled back in with a happy hum. He put his seatbelt on—safety first!—and then pulled the lever to let the seat recline. He had no memory of closing his eyes.
The next thing he knew, he felt a draft of cold air and someone unbuckling him with a click and a hiss of the seatbelt retracting.
“He went to sleep in seconds,” Dunham said and why did he sound apologetic? “I dinna know he was so sleep deprived.”
“We, as a clan, will talk about this,” Glenn answered in a cool tone.
Oooh, someone was pissy. Ross found that funny but couldn’t seem to laugh aloud. He snickered in his head instead. Took less energy.
Two strong hands maneuvered him out and Ross was suddenly airborne.
He blinked a little, trying to focus, but not a single eye cooperated.
Damn traitors, the both of them. He hummed, trying to get a question out, but his throat had also mutinied in favor of sleep.
Whole body was betraying him left, right, and center.
“Shh.” A whisper against his forehead, soothing and gentle. “I have you. You can sleep for as long as you like, alright?”
Ross liked the sound of that. He snuggled in further, hand draped over a broad shoulder, and settled in.
He wasn’t aware of much else until he felt cool sheets under his back and a pillow under his head.
He rolled into it with a happy sigh because he’d missed his bed, and here it was, welcoming him.
A bundle of fur tucked itself under his chin, purring at him.
Ooh, kitten. Where did the kitten come from?
Wait, he had a cat, didn’t he? He’d forgotten about the kitten who had adopted him and kept sneaking into his house—a fact that had annoyed him all this week, but right now kitten cuddles were…
something. Awesomesauce. That’s it, they were awesomesauce. Life was looking up already.
“Glenn, ’m tired. Need g’night kiss.”
Before his sleep-addled brain could acknowledge what he’d just said—or feel mortified for it—he felt the gentle pressure of a kiss grazing his forehead.
“Sleep,” Glenn crooned against his skin. “Sleep, and dream only of delightful things. I’ll handle everything today.”
It was such a delightful promise that Ross smiled, even in his sleep, and skipped right into dreamland without a single care in the world.