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One month after everything goes to shit in a way only their lives can, Agent Washington shows up at Caboose’s door.
Andi is the one who answers it when the doorbell rings, rolling her way over to open it before Caboose can even bother to get out from his spot on the floor. He’s tickling Freckles behind his ears, the now canine robot’s tail wagging with every scratch. When Wash enters the living room, Caboose feels bad for now hugging him for a fraction of a second, before Freckles starts to whine and Caboose goes back to rubbing his belly.
“Hey Caboose,” Washington says. He’s still wearing his black jacket. Andi, waves at Caboose before rolling off to go to the kitchen. Probably to make coffee. Agent Washington always wants coffee.
“Hello, Agent Washington,” Caboose says. Names are easier now with his new medication, though he still uses his old nicknames for everyone sometimes, just because they’re comfortable. Like an old sweater. “Freckles missed you.”
“Which Freckles?”
“Both!” Andi calls from the kitchen and Caboose can hear the coffee machine hiss. Caboose nods in agreement, poking Freckles the dog in the stomach. Freckles barks in response. He prefers to bark these days.
“How’s Mittens?” Wash smiles at that.
“Mittens is fine. Tucker keeps complaining about keeping him in the house, but he’ll get over it. Junior loves him.”
“Good.” Caboose stops petting Freckles and when the robotic dog starts to growl, he sticks out his tongue at him. It’s enough to make Freckles give up the pout and stalk off into the kitchen to beg for affection from Andi. “Mittens is a good cat.”
In fact, Mittens is one of Caboose’s favorite cats, which is saying something since Caboose likes all cats. Back when the kitten had been dropped off at the shelter where Caboose volunteered, he’d been the best of the bunch, rarely scratching at anything besides the one post all the shelter cats used. When Caboose had realized that the cat’s fur colored matched the colors of Wash’s hair, it seemed natural to deliver the kitten into the arms of the ex-freelancer for proper safekeeping.
Tucker’s still mad about that. Something about allergies. As if anyone could be allergic to Mittens.
“Yeah, he is.” Wash runs his hand through his hair that matches Mitten’s fur pattern. “Speaking of which, Caboose, when are you gonna be at the shelter next?”
Caboose thinks about that. Dates are hard. He has a calendar for that. And Andi. At the moment, Andi is easier to consult so he turns his head towards the kitchen. “Andi? When am I going to see the animals?”
“Next Wednesday!” Andi’s voice seems to echo through the house. She’s loud. All Cabooses are loud. It’s a family trait. Caboose turns back to Wash.
“Next Wednesday.”
“Mind if I tag along?”
Caboose can’t help the grin that spreads across his face. He jumps up and grabs Wash in a crushing hug. It takes a full second for him to let him go, and by then he’s talking a mile a minute.
“Yes, you can come along, Agent Washington. I can show you the new cats and we can name them because names are hard and you’re better at them, and there’s one with a missing ear who we still need to name and-”
“Caboose. Caboose.” Wash takes a step back, holding his hands up, warding off another crushing hug. “I will totally help you with that buddy. But I was wondering if I could bring some other folks with.”
Caboose tilts his head. “Tucker doesn’t like the shelter.”
That isn’t entirely correct. Tucker does like the shelter. He just hates the sneezing that happens any time Wash or Junior drags him into the cat section. However, in Caboose’s mind, not liking the cat section and the shelter as a whole are the same thing, so the point is moot.
“Not Tucker. Junior. Maybe Lauren. And I was thinking Charlie as well.”
Caboose thinks about that for a second. Junior is fun to bring to the shelter, since he isn’t a baby anymore, and he’s strong enough to help Caboose give the big dogs baths. And Lauren is fine now that she’s too big to try to ride the dogs like horses (though she still is attempting to teach them how to pick locks). But Charlie. Charlie is new. A month new to their lives.
“She could use the cheer-up, Caboose,” Wash says. “With the stuff going on. She won’t hurt the animals. She’s good with Mittens.”
Caboose thinks about it. He can hear Andi wheel her way back into the living room.
“Is Charlie a baby?”
Wash frowns. “No.”
“Cus I hate babies.”
“She’s six, Caboose.”
That settles it. Caboose shrugs. “Okay. She can come.” He walks over to the doorway where Andi has just wheeled in and grabs one of the coffee mugs she’s holding, handing it over to Wash. Wash breathes in the sent of the fresh coffee with a blissful expression on his face.
It reminds Caboose of another home, with dry air and blue skies.
As soon as the three children enter the animal shelter, two of them take off to see the dogs.
“I got it this time, Uncle Caboose,” Lauren says. She’s down a baby tooth, and the gap in her teeth gives her a little lisp. She picks up a large bobby pin and grins. “They’re gonna learn locks.”
“Okay,” Caboose says. “You can teach the dogs about locks.”
Lauren shakes her head. “I’m gonna teach them how to pick locks, Uncle Caboose! Come’ on, Junior!” The seven year old grabs the large alien’s hand, dragging him towards the wing with the dogs. “I gotta have you verify my results!”
Junior lets out a huff before letting her drag him into the hallway and out of sight.
“He’ll keep her out of trouble,” Agent Washington tells Caboose, like Caboose was worried about trouble in the first place. He takes a step to the side to reveal the smaller alien hiding behind his pant leg. She’s in a comically large t-shirt and pants, and Caboose remembers seeing her a month earlier, except in a cage. She looked scared then. She looks scared now.
“Caboose, you’ve met Charlie. Charlie, you remember Caboose.”
The small alien lets out a honk, hiding behind Agent Washington’s pant leg again. Wash looks to Caboose and shrugs.
“She thinks your big. And she’s scared of people she doesn’t know well. For obvious reasons.”
Caboose couches down so he’s at eye level with the kid. It hurts to look down, and the dogs in the shelter seem to ease up when he does this, so it’s worth a shot on other small things. He waves at the alien. “Hello. I am Caboose.” A beat. “You’re not a baby, are you?”
The little girl looks at him for a long second before shaking her head. It’s good enough for Caboose. He holds out his hand.
“Okay. Wanna go see some cats? I like cats.”
The alien kid nods. She doesn’t take his hand, but she nods. And when Caboose gets up for the cat room, she follows right behind him by a foot.
The cat room is a large place, an open territory for the strays of Chorus to lounge about. Wash’s face lights up as soon as they get in the room, and Caboose watches as he reaches down to pet behind the ears of a few cats that come up to linger by his feet. Caboose keeps walking despite Wash’s pause, heading for a smaller room. When he opens it, the small meow of kittens can be heard through the crack in the door.
“You’re small,” Caboose says reaching in. “So you have the small cats.” He grabs one of the black kittens from the floor, somehow having a feeling that the orange tabbies won’t be well liked by his guest. When he plucks the kitten from the floor, it lets out a tiny meow and Caboose scratches its belly. “You have to be nice or they’ll scratch you. But I don’t think you’ll be mean, so you can hold one.”
And with that he plops a tiny black kitten in the alien’s arms.
The alien looks at it for a second, her mandibles curling in and out. She then glances up at Wash. Wash points at the kitten, who is squirming in her arms.
“You better get to petting or I’m taking over kitten duty.”
The threat gets the kid moving and she reaches down towards the kitten’s belly. It reaches up for the alien at first and the kid retracts her hand in surprise before reaching down again to pet the kitten’s belly. Once the cat starts purring, she looks up at Wash and lets out a few honks.
“It’s to protect themselves.” Wash says before looking to Caboose. “She’s still learning English. She wanted to know why they have claws.”
The alien’s mandibles curl in. She looks back down at the kitten and asks another question. This time, Wash grows a little still, and then he lets out a long sigh.
“Sometimes, people try to hurt them. So yeah, they need the claws. And us. So we can keep them safe.”
The little girl moves her hand to pet behind the kitten’s ears and let’s out a content noise. After a second, she speaks again. Wash crouches down to look at her in the eye when he gives her his response.
“You don’t need claws to protect yourself, Charlie. There’s other ways. And you have us.”
The alien girl is quiet at that. Caboose doesn’t like quiet. So he crouches down next to Wash. Looks at this girl who reminds him of Junior so many years ago.
“It’s purring. That means it feels safe.” He points at the kid. “Feels safe with you.”
The child, Charlie, Caboose’s brain finally remembers, looks at him with wide eyes until the kitten meows, begging for attention. Charlie reaches down to pet it once more, but this time there’s a look in her eye that reminds Caboose a lot of Agent Washington, back whenever Caboose got in trouble and Agent Washington was the only thing between him and a bullet.
Determination.
The three spend the next hour with the cats until Lauren sets free all the dogs.