Story: Tribulation - Chapter 3 of 5

[plonq]

This is part 3 of of a 5-part story. Please see the first chapter for notes and warnings. 

Tribulation

Part 3 - Homecoming

"The me that you know he had some second thoughts;

He's covered with scabs and he is broken and sore.

The me that you know doesn't come around much.

That part of me isn't here anymore."

- Nine Inch Nails (The Becoming)

 

Giblet quickly found that one of the downsides to having both of his cube mates missing was that he got a lot more work done - that is, he got a lot more work done when he logged out of the messenger application to stem the flood of coworkers wanting to know what had happened. This was also after he stopped himself from constantly glancing over his shoulder at the yellow tape that separated his little corner of order from the mess in the rest of their cubicle area.

The Facilities department had come in very quickly once the police had taken all of their pictures and measurements.  Part of Plonq's desk was missing now, with just the bent stands remaining. Both chairs had been pushed into the unused corner of the cubicle, and five squares of the carpet had been removed. They had also taken away two of the fabric cubicle wall-panels that has been smeared with snow leopard blood.

Normally management frowned on employees wearing earbuds at their workstations, but they had - by unspoken agreement - understandably given the little otter a pass for the day. Giblet had the buds buried deep in his ear canals and his music was cranked to an unhealthy volume to drown out the uncomfortable silence behind him. It was only when he saw a hand waving at the periphery of his vision that he realized somebody was trying to get his attention. He paused the music and popped out the ear pieces when he saw who it was.

"Hey, Josh," he said. The older otter tilted back his chair and clasped his hands behind his head while he rotated his seat around to face the younger otter.  "Still here, I see."

"Hi," said Joshua.  "Ya, I'm still here." He laughed. "It was a close call earlier this morning, but the totally professional, but unprepared way in which they handled this thing convinced me that it really is an anomaly. Also, everyone here is just so gosh darned nice."

"That's because you're new," said Giblet with a quick wink at the other otter. "Give it six months and the safety caps come off our claws. That's when you start to realize that a lot of what you mistook for being nice is actually just passive-aggressiveness." He glanced at a sheaf of papers under the other otter's left arm. "Homework?"

Joshua looked puzzled for a moment then pulled out the papers. "These? Oh, this is for the pension options, vision and dental plans..." he paused. "Not to be rude, but when they started handing me all of these physical forms, I almost forgot what decade we were in. This was all electronic at my last place."

"It is here too," said Giblet. "I think they just want to get your physical signature for the first iteration." He cranked his head around, glancing over each of his shoulders and then lowered his voice to a conspiratorial hush. "We have some suits in the upper ranks here who live for pulling out pieces of paper and demanding, 'Is this not your signature on this form agreeing to the terms that you now question?'"

Joshua laughed again. "I love how I can't tell if you're being serious or not," he said.

"I learned from a master," said Giblet, peeling away one of his hands and thumbing at the empty desk behind him. He sighed and sat upright again. "Me and him are going to have a serious chat when I get home."

"That's partly why I stopped by on my way out," said Joshua. "I'm sorry about the 'boyfriend' remark I made earlier. It was really presumptuous of me, and I could tell that it really upset you."

"I wasn't really upset about it," said Giblet, batting away the younger otter's concerns with a quick wave of his left hand. "If you asked around the office, I think you'd find that half of them think that Plonq and I are boyfriends with benefits, in spite of the fact that we're both actively dating other people of various genders." He picked up a well-chewed pen off his desk and began slowly flipping it back and forth through the fingers of one hand. "I was really upset about everything earlier this morning, and I reacted a lot more strongly to your comment than I normally would. I've calmed down a lot." He chuckled. "Well, inasmuch as I can ever be considered calm. Just so you know, I am still screaming on the inside, so don't be alarmed if I accidentally externalize a bit of that without warning."

Giblet could have gone on at some length about his absent friend. He could have mentioned how he had first come out to the snow leopard - the first time he'd come out to anybody (besides family, which had not gone well) - because he'd had a crush on the cat, and mistaken the other's awkwardness and friendship for a deeper mutual interest.  He'd have waxed on about how not only had the faux pas not driven the other way, but they'd become even closer, with the feline bending over backward to be supportive. He'd have told the young otter about how Plonq had taken Giblet in after he'd lost everything in a fire. How the cat had convinced him to march in his first Pride Day parade a couple of years later and even held his hand along the whole parade route to lend him courage.

But he barely knew the young otter, and didn't want to bore him with personal anecdotes. Instead, he clasped his hands behind his head again and said, "I think I speak for both of us when I say that I'm glad to have this morning behind us."

"And how," agreed Joshua emphatically. "Well, good luck. Wish your friend luck as well when you see him later today. He seemed very nice, and I hope he comes out of this ok."

"Thanks," said Giblet. As Joshua turned to leave, Giblet glanced at his desk phone and noted the time. It was very near the end of his day, and he had not yet heard any word on the snow leopard's condition. He had hoped that Plonq might call him from the hospital, but he also understood that the cat probably had other matter on his mind. Plonq also had the car keys, which left Giblet in the position of figuring out an alternate way to get home.

Fortunately, the logistics of getting home were resolved for him when Rahul wandered by his desk ten minutes later and gave him Plonq's car keys.

"Plonq said to give you these," said the lanky mongoose as he put the keys on the corner of Giblet's desk. "I dropped him off at home after we left the hospital."

"How's he doing?" demanded Giblet, snatching up the keys as he spoke.

"He's a little shaken up, but he's going to be ok," said Rahul. "The bleeding had mostly stopped by the time they finally got around to treating him. They put on a butterfly bandage and sent him home with some pain killers. They said he has no sign of a concussion."

"Oh, well that's some good news!" Giblet glanced at the time again. "Holy crap - you guys left this morning. You were in ER with him the whole time?"

"I wasn't just going to leave him there," said the mongoose primly, as if he was offended that the idea had even been considered.

*** 

When Giblet arrived home, he found the snow leopard in the living room in a messy, supine sprawl on the corner of the sofa. The cat had one arm draped over the back of the sofa, and the other draped over its arm with his left foot resting on the coffee table. On the selfsame table were a small prescription bottle and an open scotch. As near as the otter could tell, his friend had been staring blankly out the front window before the mustelid had interrupted him. Even then, the snow leopard remained ostensibly motionless, moving only his eyes to track Giblet as he entered the room.

"Hi," said Giblet tentatively.

"Hullo," said Plonq. He lifted his hand from the back of the couch and gestured toward his head. "Unfortunately, it looks like I am going to survive."

Giblet glanced at the languid feline, then at the open bottle of scotch and the pills on the table. "What's with the scotch," he asked with a gerbil of concern gnawing at his gut from the inside. Now that he was standing in the living room, the smell of alcohol was fairly prominent. "Tell me you're not mixing those."

"Oh," said Plonq. "Well, they gave me some pain killers at the hospital and told me to take them with liquid. They did not specify which liquid and it occurred to me that scotch qualifies as one." The cat shrugged. "Then I figured that in large enough quantities, scotch also acts as a pain killer, and I could just skip the pills entirely."

Giblet tutted in disapproval and picked up the bottle, slamming the cork back into the top. He held it up and noticed that it was two thirds empty. "Christ, how much of this did you drink?" he demanded. "Am I going to have to take you right back to ER for alcohol poisoning?"

Plonq seemed to consider the question. He glanced over at his left hand on the back of the couch and began counting off fingers. "Well, if you discount how much was missing from the bottle when I brought it out here, and how much is left now..." He extended four fingers one after another. "I had, uh, a tiny sip and then decided to take one of the pills instead. I just had not got around to putting the cork back in."

"You are a prick," said Giblet in something between a growl and a laugh of relief.  He stepped around the coffee table and threw himself into the opposite corner of the sofa, placing the bottle on the end table beside him as he sat. He reached back and slapped the feline's arm off the back of the sofa angrily. "So, why didn't you call once you got home? You know me well enough to know that I'd be worried sick about you!"

"Sorry," said Plonq with genuine-sounding contrition. He crossed his arms loosely over his chest and gently massaged his biceps as he shift himself upright on the sofa. "I have kind of been lost in my own brain since I got home." The snow leopard drew a deep breath and gave a slow, trembling exhalation. "I am probably going to get fired."

"No, you're not," said the otter. He slid over a cushion to the right so that he was sitting next to his friend. He punched the snow leopard gently, but firmly in the upper arm. "They're not going to fire you for a first offense after you've been there that long. No - stop. Don't you sit there and shake your head at me!"

"They have a zero-tolerance policy for physical violence," said Plonq. "I tackled him pretty hard." He shuddered, and when he spoke next his voice trembled a bit. "I lost my senses for the briefest moment there, and when I pounced at him I think I was going for his throat. When I had him down, and I was sitting on his chest and he was staring up at me, I could see that he thought I was going to kill him." The cat drew another long breath. When he spoke again it was barely over a whisper. "I think ... I guess ... at that moment I was more scared of me than he was. I have never lost control like that. Everyone says I was yelling a bunch at him, but I have no memory of that." He glanced over at the otter and met his eyes. "He really pissed me off, but I have never lost control like that before."

"About that," said Giblet flatly. "Please understand that what I am about to say is said with as much love and respect as is legally allowed in a nonsexual relationship but..." The otter reached over and clamped a hand under the snow leopard's chin to prevent the other from breaking eye contact. "Don’t you ever ... fucking ever pull that shit again. I'm a big boy, and I can fight my own fights. I don't need you being my white knight and putting your neck on the line for me - especially when it could cost you your livelihood." He let go of Plonq's chin and sat back again. "I mean it. Bandage my wounds and offer me words of support, but let me fight my own fights. You're my friend, not my bodyguard."

He watched as the snow leopard dropped his hands to his lap and fiddled with them, massaging one hand over the other while he mulled on the otter's words. The cat glanced at the otter out of the corner of his eye, but stayed mum when he sensed that the otter was not done speaking yet. The snow leopard stared down at his hands again.

To the otter's own great surprise, he quickly leaned in and kissed the snow leopard on the cheek.

"Thank you, though," said Giblet gently. A hint of tears glistened in the corners of his eyes. "I'm really touched and humbled that you were willing to throw yourself so totally into my defense. Sometimes I get the feeling that you genuinely like me." He quickly held up a hand to the snow leopard's muzzle when he saw that the cat was about to speak.

"Not a word until you take off your shirt," said the otter. He rose and stepped in front of the snow leopard while the latter started sheepishly unbuttoning it. "Give me your undershirt too, while you’re at it. Seriously, you've been home for at least two hours and you're still wearing that shirt with all the blood on it?"

"It is already ruined," said Plonq defensively as he shrugged out of the layers. "It just seemed like wasted effort to bother changing out of it until I was ready to put on something else."

Giblet grimaced and shook his head disapprovingly at the feline. He took the garments and held them critically up to the light. "You're probably right about them being a loss," he said, "but it can't hurt to put them on to soak. I'll take care of that, since you're hopeless at these things." The otter bundled the shirts up and tossed them onto the armchair. He leaned forward and inspected the snow leopard's exposed fur. "At least it didn't soak all the way through." He started to raise his arms, hesitated and quickly lowered them again. "Ya, it looks fine."

"A shame, really," said Plonq sadly, "that was one of my favourite shirts." He glanced at the wad of clothes, then back at the otter standing in front of him. Giblet seemed to be in the beginnings of a mild trance as he stared fixedly at the feline's bare torso. The cat lifted his hand to the arm of the sofa and rhythmically tapped his fingers along it. He cleared his throat politely.

Giblet made brief eye contact with the snow leopard, and then he looked longingly back down at the cat's mid-rift.  "May I?" he wheedled. "I promise it will just be a quickie."

Plonq sighed. "OK, fine. Just try not to make it ... weird," said the snow leopard

Giblet dropped to his knees and leaned forward, and then he paused with his arms outstretched. "What do you mean by 'don't make it weird?" he demanded.

"You know what I mean," said Plonq dryly. "I mean no suggesting moaning, and no burying your muzzle in my solar plexus for a good sniff. Get in, get your fix and get out."

Giblet giggled. "Would I do that?" he asked innocently. "I can't help it if I love the smell of cats." He leaned forward and buried his outstretched hands in the snow leopard's thick belly fur. The otter lost himself in a few moments of bliss as he gently petted and kneaded the fur. "It's amazing," he breathed. "It's so thick and soft and fluffy! How can you not spend all of your waking hours doing this?"

The snow leopard chuckled, sending a pleasing vibration through the thick fur. "You have no idea what I do in my room at night," he said, eliciting a return laugh from the otter.

After a couple of minutes, Giblet was sated enough to pull his hands back and rise to his feet again. He gathered up the snow leopard's shirt and undergarment into his arms. "OK, I'm going to go put these on to soak," he said. "Also, I'm starving. I worked right through lunch. I don't know what we've got in the cupboard at the moment, but I can toss something together for us."

Plonq shook his head and sighed. "We grabbed a little snack on the way home from the hospital, and I ... am lacking in appetite at the moment," he said.

The otter nodded, understanding. "Well, I'll make a bit extra and put it in the fridge in case you change your mind later." He started toward the hall, and stopped again at the threshold. "You know," he said thoughtfully as he hugged the garments in his arms a little tighter, "I think I know why we get along so well. You let me run my hands through your belly fur without getting weirded out by it, and you just accepted it as 'Giblet being Giblet' when I gave you that sloppy kiss on your cheek. Most guys would have freaked out if their friend did that."

"Well, it is a quid pro quo thing," said Plonq. "You get to run your hands through luxurious fur, and I get a belly rub." He blinked as the otter's words continued parsing in his head. "Wait, you kissed me...?"

"Obviously you would remember it if I'd done such a thing," said Giblet glibly. He turned to leave again, calling over his shoulder as he scurried out. "I'll put these on to soak, and then be in the kitchen fixing some otter delicacies if you need anything." Out of the corner of his eye he saw the snow leopard rubbing his cheek with a puzzled expression.

 ***

It was almost ninety minutes later when Giblet returned to the living room bearing two tall cups of steaming faux hot chocolate, each brimming with marshmallows. He found the snow leopard sitting in the same corner of the sofa, leaning against the arm of it with his knees pulled up under his chin.

"I brought you a little something. Even if you're not hungry, there's always room for fake hot chocolate," said the otter, handing one of the mugs to the cat.

Plonq accepted the mug and sat it on his knee, holding it there with one hand while he tentatively poked at one of the marshmallows with an extended claw on his other. In the meantime, Giblet perched on the edge of the armchair with his knees crossed and took a sip of his own drink.

"So what are the next steps?" Giblet asked. "Is there anything I can do for you at the office to help?"

Plonq paused in his attempts to spear a marshmallow. "Oh," he said, "I am going to be coming in on Thursday morning to meet with the inquisition. Arjun called Rahul while we were waiting in ER and said he needed to talk to me if I was available." He finally managed to capture the prize he was after, and he delicately licked it off the tip of his claw. "He told me to show up at work if I was available for 9:00 on Thursday, or to suggest another time if that did not work. He said they want to get this handled quickly."

He made a stab at another marshmallow, but it just bobbed elusively away every time he tried. "I had to surrender my phone and pass card to Rahul." The cat gave up trying to catch his prey and just stirred the floating confections with the extended claw. "I had to give him my corporate credit card and authenticator too while I was at it," he said. "You know things are serious when they take your RSA device."

"That's just standard procedure," said Giblet quickly. He took another nip from his fake chocolate without ever taking his eyes from the snow leopard. "And it's good that they're trying to resolve it quickly. The sooner they get this mess out of the way, the quicker we'll have you back at work."

Plonq glanced up at the otter, and then just shrugged and returned his attention to his hot drink. "Actually, I think the speed of this is a bad sign because it means that they have already made up their minds about the outcome."

The cat had a point, but Giblet refused to concede. "They're not just going to let you go," he said firmly. "I know that Arjun really likes you. He's pretty respected there, and he won't give you up without a fight."

"Maybe," said Plonq. He sighed, and sadly shook his head. "I keep replaying this morning in my head, trying to come up with other ways that it could have gone.  There were so many paths I could have chosen that did not involve screwing up, but I managed not to take those."

"It'll work out," said the otter firmly. "Look, I'm on your side. You've helped me get through so many things over the years; I can't not be here to help you through this."

"Thanks," said the snow leopard, glancing back up at his friend briefly. "That means a lot."

"Is there anything I can help with right now?"

Plonq shook his head. "Maybe tomorrow," he said. "I need some time alone out here to wallow. I would stew, but I am pretty much past that phase."

Giblet uncoiled himself from the armchair and walked over to the end of the couch. He clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder and gave it a couple of reassuring squeezes. "OK, I'll leave you here to wallow," he said. "I'm going to head back to my room to watch some porn - or whatever it is I do in there when I have the door closed. If you changed your mind about needing anything, just come back and knock."

Plonq patted the otter's hand. "Thanks," was all he said.

*** 

Giblet woke at just shy of three o'clock the next morning with a bladder that had a mind to punish him for drinking hot chocolate so close to bed time. He reluctantly slid out from under the sheets into the relative cold of his bedroom and tip-toed out into the hall. As he rounded the corner toward the bathroom, he saw light streaming from the living room. He considered dashing back to his room for pants so that he could check on the situation out there, but his initial purpose in venturing out was more pressing.

Once he had dealt with his personal issue, the otter donned a tatty pair of sweat pants and made his way to the front room to see if Plonq had accidentally left the light on when he'd gone to bed.  When he rounded the corner, he found the snow leopard in the same corner of the couch. The cat was fast asleep, draped over the arm and snoring softly. Giblet shook his head in awe at the feline's ability to sleep in a position that would have left most species crippled by the morn.

A mug of cold chocolate - untouched save for a vague indentation in the sticky foam where a marshmallow had once been - sat on the table by the lamp. The otter strode lightly out of the room and returned a minute later with a blanket that he gently draped over the cat. Plonq muttered and shifted slightly at the touch of the blanket, but snored again a few seconds later.

Giblet turned off the lamp and tip-toed back to bed.

n  End of part 3

Part 4