We know not what we do
Part 16
The sun had been up for a few hours, it was late morning when Mocha regained consciousness. First was the pain, sharp and throbbing at both ends. “Wowstest tinky pwace owies… An taiw hab wowstest owies…” She mumbled to herself as she rubbed her head. The slight shift sent another stab of pain, this time from her tail. She couldn’t tell from the fluff, but it was swollen. She could definitely see that it was crooked, unnaturally bent to the right. Her pretty tail giving her the worst owies.
Then the smell. She didn’t remember what happened, but it smelled like she had bad poopies. As her eyes focused, they watered, from the smell and from the pain. Daddeh was laying on the floor. Nasty smelling poopies all over his legs. “Huuhuu… Pwetty taiw gib owies…” She whined as she slowly made her way back to the safe room, to her own bed.
Prince stopped eating to watch Mocha limp and whimper all the way to her bed, climbing up the pillow and flopping down. She chirped as she naturally wrapped her tail around herself, only it jutted out at an acute angle.
“Mocha nee Huggies? Hab owies?” Prince asked, but Mocha didn’t answer and just laid there whimpering.
The sun was already halfway across the sky, early afternoon when Steve stirred. it took a moment before he could open his eyes, but he quickly shut them. He was on his bedroom floor with no recollection on how he got there. But his head was pounding. Then the smell hit him. Steve tried to scramble to his feet and slipped on the shit, falling again and vomiting.
With a pounding in his temples he somehow managed to get himself into the bathroom. Sprawled out in the tub with the shower spraying on his face, he contemplated life, why do I keep drinking like this? And, “please.god make it stop.” With the door left open Prince was first to find and question Steve.
“Daddeh, wat ou doin’?”
Steve’s head rolls to the side and he mumbled, “not so loud… Shhhh…” Mocha came to the bathroom and sat next to Prince watching Steve.
“Wawa ba fow fwuffies.” Prince says to no one in particular.
Mocha doesn’t answer. A moment later, “wawa bad fow fwuffies.”
“Pwince jus say dat.”
“Wat?” She looks confused. Which incidentally enough, is just her normal fluffy face.
It took a few hours to clean up the mess in his room and the floors. It could’ve been quicker if he wasn’t having to make multiple trips to pray to the porcelain throne. He ended up on the couch again sipping at Pedialyte.
“Daddeh, Mocha hab tinky pwace owies. Gib huggies and wub?” She sat down reaching up towards him.
“Yeah, I got a headache too.”. His arm draped over his face to block the light.
“Huggies? Dey make ewwyting bettah.” Her legs still reaching up towards him.
“No, not right now. Go lay down.”
“Buh… Daddeh, Mocha nee Huggies, taiw hab wowstest owies,” she whined louder.
Steve rolled over, his back facing her, “I told you no, now go fuck off. God damn you whine too much.”
Her ears drooped and her legs fell to her sides, “Mocha sowwy daddeh,” she whispered.
“Ugh, fine.” He rolled back over and grabbed her, placing her on his chest. “Wanna nap with me?” He started giving her pets waiting for her answer, which didn’t come. “Hey, wanna nap with me?” He asked again, louder this time.
“Yus!” She curled up on his chest and winced when he started petting her head. “Nu tinky pwace pets, tinky pwace hab owies.” She whined.
“Yeah, mine too…”
After what surpassed a nap and went directly to sleep, it was hours later that Steve woke up, Mocha still on his chest. He set her down and got himself some greasy barfood leftovers and a beer. Because, really, hair of the dog that bit you isn’t necessarily wrong. As he ate he watched Mocha scratch at her ear and chirp in pain. Well, looks like I’ve got a reason to call Cheryl.
And he did, after pacing around the kitchen and building up his nerve. And after several deep breaths, he dialed.
~This is Dr. Clark.~
“Hey, Cheryl. It’s Steve.”
~… okay?~
“With the fluffies?” He was almost starting to panic, “Prince and Mocha?” oh god oh god I’m an idiot! He smacked his forehead into the wall with a soft thud.
~Ah, yes, is something wrong with them?~
“Uh, yeah, maybe? Mocha keeps trying to scratch at her ears and seems she’s having a hard time hearing.” Almost as if by command, Mocha had chirped and scratched at her ear again.
~She probably has an ear infection. Get some dog ear cleaner solution and some makeup remover pads or cotton balls. Pour the solution into her ears, rub the surrounding area, She’ll then shake her head. After that you can reach your finger in with a cotton ball and clean it out. Do it once tonight then again in the morning. After that, call and make an appointment, it could be more serious.~
“Got it, thanks! Hey, do you think maybe we-” There was a click and the phone went silent. He smacked his head into the wall one more time for good measure. I’m an idiot.
That evening he returned from the store with cotton balls and the cleaning solution. Mocha was laying in front of his couch, absently scratching at her ears. “Daddeh hab tweats fo Mocha?” Her eyes followed the unfamiliar objects in his hands, “wat dat?”
“This, is gonna fix your ears.” He shook the bottle at her.
“Heawie pwaces gib Mocha owies. Daddeh ficks?”
“Yup!” He opened the bottle. “So, I’m going to pour in this liquid and then I’m gonna rub around your ears and then you’ll shake your head, then I just wipe it out. That’s it!”
To Mocha, that sounded terrible, but her ears were bothering her, so she didn’t fight too much. Her head and ear evaded Steve’s grasp only briefly, the fight out of her once he grabbed onto her scruff. “SCREEEEE!” Her legs kicked at him as the cold liquid filled her ear canal, it was ineffective, Steve just held her in place by her scruff. “NU! WET GU!”
His fingers massaged around the base of her ear causing disgusting squelching sounds. It did not go well with Mocha sobbing. He released his grip on her, “okay, shake your head.” Her eyes were squeezed shut, “c’mon, shake your head, you gotta get the stuff out.” Still nothing. “Fine, I’m doing the other ear then.”
The other ear was bright red inside, not that he had really paid attention. As the liquid hit the inflamed sensitive skin she started chirping, her legs flailing about again. “chirp chirp! Pwease sowwy! Sowwy DADDEH!” Mocha kept getting louder, “PWEASE SOWWY! CHIRP CHIRP DADDEH! PWEASE NU! HUUUU!” The pressure, the liquid, the massaging of her infected ear sending sharp stabbing pain straight into her brain.
“Stop crying, or I’ll give you something to cry about.” To which Mocha stopped crying in mid huu. “That’s better. Now, shake your head.” And that command he instantly regretted as strands of liquid filth sprayed out onto the TV, the couch, his shirt, and even his face. “God DAMN!” It was a knee jerk reaction that he flinched back knocking Mocha onto the floor. She reacted faster than he did and managed to scamper past him making an escape to the safe room.
She needed to hide, and saw the perfect spot. Prince watched as she ran behind him and curled up. “Daddeh nu fin Mocha hewe… huuu… daddeh gif heawie pwaces owies…” She sniffled trying to get under Prince. “Dummeh daddeh nu fin Mocha hewe,” If she said it twice, it had to be true. Until she was lifted by the scruff and pushed down onto the floor. She couldn’t move her head, she couldn’t even see Steve, but she knew it was him.
Prince jumped off the pillow bed and head butted Steve’s leg. It was super ineffective. But he couldn’t not try to save his sister, “Wet Mocha gu! WET GU!” He shouted and pounded on Steve’s leg.
“This is for your own good, ya little shit.” He stopped being gentle. He rubbed out the inside of each ear with a cotton ball. Ignoring Mocha’s literal screams, the break was her sharp inhales to start screaming again. With her screaming he couldn’t hear Prince yelling at him, but he didn’t miss the purple fluffy attacking his leg. Mocha was left in a sobbing pile as he got up, Prince ran over to her as if he could protect her. Even if he had all four legs, he wouldn’t have made any difference.
He returned with the sorry stick. Prince instinctively knew. Sorry sticks were only ever used on bad fluffies. But he didn’t do anything bad, he only tried to protect his sister. It was his daddeh that was bad! Prince chirped as Steve lifted him off the floor, his legs and tail dangling. “What the fuck do you think you were doing?”
“Pwince sab Mocha fwum bad daddeh!” He nearly spat that out, his tiny voice full of anger. The bravado fell away as the sorry stick sharply struck across his back. Each strike forcing a “SCREE” from his mouth.
After the fifth strike he brought Prince towards his face, “you ever hit me again, and I’ll beat the shit out of you AND your sister. Understand?” Prince didn’t answer fast enough and he struck directly on the stump. His eyes shot open and he chirped. “Understand?” he dropped Prince, hitting the ground with a soft thud. There was no answer, the purple fluffy had curled into a ball and shook while crying.
Mocha had her hooves over her ears and her eyes tightly shut. She didn’t see what Steve did, but she certainly heard it. Especially since her hears had been cleaned out. “And you, if you ever run from me like that again…” He didn’t need to hold her down, she didn’t budge, but she did cry out as he smacked her four times across the rump, the final fifth strike across her wings.
The light went out and the door slammed shut behind him. Some days he regretted that impulsive decision.
That night Steve did not refill their food or water. He didn’t give them pets or hugs. Prince and Mocha cuddled together, commiserating until they fell asleep to the soft nightlight. The next day Steve hadn’t stopped in. But, this wouldn’t be the first time he’s ignored them for an extended period. The second bright time without daddeh, Mocha became concerned.
“Pwease daddeh! Mocha am sowwy! Sowwy pwease!” This went on for over an hour at a time, and it was driving Prince crazy. He was kinda sorta glad his daddeh wasn’t around. He loved his daddeh in a way he couldn’t describe, bit he also hated him. He hated him so much. He lost his leg because of his daddeh. He got beat because he tried to save his sister from him. Prince couldn’t understand Steve at all. His actions and reactions were beyond anything his little fluffy brain could handle.
When Mocha wasn’t crying, she was eating, or sleeping, or playing with the ball. That certainly passed the time for the two of them. With just one front leg, Prince couldn’t play blocks, but playing ball with Mocha was just as good.
The ball went wide and bumped against the freshly emptied food bowl. Both Mocha and Prince started down into the bowl, “nu moar kibbwe.”
Mocha scratched at her ears and mumbled, “nu moar kibble, Pwince.”
“Pwince jus say dat.”
“Wat?” Mocha asked as she kept scratching at her ears and whining.
That evening they went to bed hungry. As much as Prince expected Mocha to sleep next to him he watched her walk in a circle over and over and shake her head before laying down and whimpering.
Prince awoke with the sun to Mocha whimpering, her forehead pressed against the wall.