Lydia’s heart was racing, the palms of her hands sweaty where she gripped the leather knot of the leash, a million ‘what if’ scenarios crowding her mind. Meeting Colton’s green eyes, she could see him reeling with it, too.
That brought her back to the situation at hand. She could deal with her own shock later. Whatever had been done to turn Col into the pet he was now surely made him ill-equipped to handle… this.
He was breathing uncomfortably, seemingly fighting for each gulp of air. Fixing that was high up on a list of potential priorities.
“Hey Col,” she said, hearing the shake of fear and adrenaline in her own voice. “I’m just going to take your collar off for a bit, all right?” She dropped the leash and held up her hands in what she hoped was a calming gesture. “You are still good. You are not in any trouble and you can wear it again later, if you want to. Is that okay with you?” His green eyes focused slowly on her face, and he managed a tiny nod. “All right, then. That’s good. Thank you for communicating so clearly with me. It’s all good.” Lydia stopped paying attention to what she said, just focused on keeping her tone of voice calm and friendly as she reached up… and up, he was quite a bit taller than Coriander… and unbuckled the collar, letting it fall to the floor.
He took a deep breath, like a person on the verge of drowning. She could feel him swaying a bit on his feet. Slowly, and gently, she put a hand on his arm. The pet started, but did not pull away.
“Here, come on. Have a seat.” She led him towards his bed, and he obediently sank down on it. “That’s good, that’s good.”
She looked around the room, casting about for what to do. Her gaze fell on the little fridge in the corner and she took the few steps over to rummage around in it. The small freezer compartment held ice cubes wrapped in blue plastic. Perfect.
Lydia grabbed the ice and closed the freezer. Inside the fridge itself were tiny bottles of wine and spirits, rum, vodka, whiskey, tequila. Let’s not give strong liquor to unfamiliar pets in shock. That’s probably a good rule to live by. She laughed to herself, feeling the tinge of hysteria in her own mood. Colton turned his head to stare at her, she guessed he didn’t see much humour in the situation.
Instead of the alcohol, she chose a blue-green can of Sprite. The silver metal shine of the top of the can forcefully reminded her of the glint of a knife in the shadows. What if Col hadn’t been there? If she had been alone on that dark street? Would he just have made off with her purse, or… Just don’t think about it. She told herself sternly. You can worry about that later.
Lydia suddenly remembered something Carla had told her, while she was going to a dog training class with Cassie, ‘Dogs can’t eat and be afraid at the same time,’ she’d said. Perhaps that worked the same on people? She grabbed the chocolate bars, too, as well as the two upside-down glasses from the shelf next to the desk. Filling her arms with her looted treasure, she dumped it all unceremoniously on top of her own bed.
“Now, let’s see…” She grabbed one of Cory’s t-shirts and wrapped it around the bag of ice. “Here…” When she handed it to Col, he just blinked up at her, uncomprehending. “For your hand.” She clarified. When he didn’t move, she sat down next to him on the bed, making sure to still keep some distance between them. She reached out and took his large hand in hers. Even though she was prepared for Col to flinch, the sharp start he gave made her flinch too. He stared at her, mutely. She just realised that she hadn’t heard him utter a single word since the incident.
“You can speak, Col,” she said softly. “It’s okay.”
“Pets shouldn’t be on the furniture, Ma’am,” he said robotically, and she realised he wasn’t staring at her, he was staring just past her into nothingness. She was used to him averting his eyes, or making unsure eye contact. She’d never seen him look so… far away, before.
“Col?”
“I’m sorry,” he tried again, with just enough emotion for his voice to wobble. His hand was shaking in her own.
Lydia slowly moved a hand in front of Colton’s eyes, but nothing changed. He didn’t even flinch. Okay, she thought, this isn’t the time to have meaningless battles.
“Let’s go onto the floor, then,” she said, and the fact it was an order must have worked its way through Col’s haze, since he moved and obeyed. She continued holding his hand as they shifted down. It seemed like the right thing to do. Like Col was a ship that needed mooring.
Lydia had braced herself for begging, but once again she had to accept the fact that this wasn’t Coriander in front of her.
The tall man slumped clumsily down on the floor, his back against the metal frame of his bed. He wasn’t looking at her. With her free hand, she took the oddly shaped, blue lump that was made of ice wrapped in t-shirt and held it against Col’s red knuckles. Holding his battered hand steadily, she could feel slow tremors running through him, like a deep undercurrent of fear.
She decided she should keep talking to him, even if she knew she wouldn’t get much of a reply. She could be an anchor, right now. Composed and unchanging and certainly not angry.
“Were you… uh-” she faltered. What was a word for guard dog that wasn’t, well, that. “Were you trained to be defensive of your owner like that?”
“No,” Col whispered.
“Wow,” she said. “I suppose it was just- just instinct. In a good way,” she quickly clarified. Col flinched almost imperceptibly, and Lydia felt as if she’d just wedged him even further down his dark hole. He didn’t move, or speak.
She ran a finger a little further up Col’s hand, to his wrist, and felt his heartbeat hammering against her fingertip. He was eerily calm on the surface, but she could tell it was just cloaking the sheer terror he felt underneath. She tried to get into his mind. Obviously attacking a human would warrant a terrible punishment. How could she convince him that he didn’t deserve it?
“Thank you for saving me,” she said, and she meant it. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there, Col. I’m so happy, and relieved. You were a really good boy. You didn’t hurt him any more than you had to.”
He just stared, but that was okay. She reached back up to the bed, twisting so as not to let go of Col’s hand, and picked up the chocolate bars. One for her and one for him.
She set it on the ground in front of him, explaining as she did so. “This is for you. You must be tired, after we ran all that way. I’m going to eat one too.”
She thought she saw him glance down at it, just for a second.
*
Col was still floating, still not fully there, but as he watched himself and Lydia in the room, he could see the bar of chocolate offered to him. It reminded him of Master, the time Col had been too scared to even leave his room. Master had put down a bar of something too, hadn’t he? Left it there for Col to eat, and it wasn’t a trap, or a test.
It had been nice. Had helped Col re-enter his body and face the world again. But was that just what Lydia wanted? Or could she and Master have the same strangely kind intentions after all?
*
“Can you focus on that bar of chocolate? Can you… tell me what colour the wrapper is?”
It looked like it was a great effort, but Col dragged himself out of his thousand-mile stare and did his best to focus.
“It’s gold, Ma’am.”
“Very good. What shape is it?”
“A rectangle, Ma’am.”
“Good. And does it feel nice, when I hold you hand like this?”
“Yes,” Col said, his voice cracking. “It does, Ma’am. I don’t deserve it. I’m so sorry.”
He was breaking down, but he seemed to be coming back to reality. Lydia squeezed his hand and he pressed his eyes shut, his lips twisted with unshed tears.
“You are being really good.” He heard her say, distantly.
Col’s knuckles throbbed with dull pain. The ice covered by plastic and thin cloth was burning cold against his skin. Was this a punishment? For a moment he felt relief, if so, he knew where he stood. The pain would be terrible and he feared that he would never recover, but at least it would make sense.
But no. The gentle way she held his hand, the chill against the bruises, it all clicked into place like a photographic lens snapping into focus. This wasn’t punishment, it was treatment.
Lydia slowly let go of his hand, let it rest limply on top of the ice on the floor. With careful movements she reached out for the chocolate, unwrapped the golden paper wrapper and then the crinkly, metal foil underneath.
“Open your mouth, please.” She saw it then, the spark of raw fear in his eyes. Colton still obeyed immediately. Lydia broke off a small square of the chocolate. She hesitated for a moment, but then reached out and placed it in his mouth. “Please eat it.”
He chewed and swallowed dryly. Those fearful green eyes never leaving her face. But at least he was focusing on her now.
“That’s great. You are being very obedient. That is well done.” Lydia said, knowing that at the moment her tone, calm and encouraging and friendly, was vastly more important than the actual words. “Here, have another piece.” He opened his mouth automatically to receive it. While he chewed, she absentmindedly took a piece for herself, and then placed the rest of the bar on the floor. She reached out and took his hand in hers again. Slowly, Lydia reached her free hand towards his face, gently resting her palm against his cheek.
Colton didn’t lean into her touch the way that Cory would have done. He stiffened, she could almost feel him holding his breath, but he didn’t pull away. His green eyes were firmly fixed on her now, frightened, but also filled with something akin to… awe?
Lydia didn’t understand his reaction, but at least she had his undivided attention.
“Colton”, she said “I want to tell you something very important, all right?”
He nodded, his skin warm and slightly scratchy underneath her hand.
“I’m not angry with you and you did nothing wrong.” She aimed for firmness, still hearing the shake of nerves in her own voice. “You might have saved us both. That man was dangerous and…” Lydia broke off, she wasn’t ready to think about what might’ve happened yet. “It was the right call.” She finished up instead. “Thank you, Col. You did really well.”
Were there tears in his eyes? Lydia suddenly had an idea.
“You know,” she said eagerly, “What if we try to call Linden? Would you like to talk with him for a bit?”
