His eyes kept fixed on Cookie the whole trip. Her breathing was so weak, but she was breathing and that was the only thing that mattered, so he concentrated on her chest slowly moving up and down. His grip on her wound never faltered, even though the car was bumping and shaking all around. Without a doubt, they would receive some velocity fine, but the guys didn't seem to bother over it.

He couldn't even discern how many minutes it took for them to get to the vet. He just figured they arrived when the driver hit the brakes and he almost kissed the back of the passenger seat with the sudden action. Not that he minded it, in reality, he was truly grateful for how fast they got there and how seriously these people seemed to want to help him.

The backseat door opened and he rushed out of the car. They were in front of a small building, the sign showing that they were before a vet was so small that it seemed it was a facade for some shady business. But he soon thought otherwise as they got inside and the smell of disinfectant hit his nose. 

There was no secretary or someone who could attend them in the waiting area. But soon an older woman appeared wearing scrubs and he could see her face had a puzzling feature. She was ready to ask the boy all the questions her brain was making about the situation, but she soon stopped as the first guy who helped him took her attention and told her something.

The driver motioned with his head the direction of the room the woman came from and the boy followed him there. He put Cookie on the medical table and the driver took his place, now it was the tall guy who was keeping his hands making pressure on her wound. He gave the boy a reassuring smile and made another gesture to the waiting room. At the same time, the woman came back looking ready to work.

It was a situation he couldn't control and there was nothing he could do to help, so he went back to the waiting room just like it was asked of him. With heavy steps - now that his alert mode was gone - he moved over to the seats and let his body fall on one of the padded chairs.

Reflecting a little bit, maybe his mom would get pissed with his actions. He literally jumped inside the car of two guys with double of his weight in muscles and let them take him on a fast and furious adventure. Although he didn't have much choice, right?  They had trusting eyes and, for that reason, he felt safe. The guys just made it possible for Cookie to have a chance of keeping alive, there wasn't much to argue on that. Maybe if he explained it to her, he would get only half of an angry mom instead of the whole package deal.

His brain was on overdrive. It seemed like a defense mechanism since if he kept thinking about any other thing, he would be distracted enough to have to deal with his problems. And his feelings. Oh boy, those were horrible and he felt like shit. So he just let his mind take notice of every little detail he didn't pay attention to before, and that included the young adult that helped him.

They were left behind in the waiting room by the driver and the woman. The tall guy kept pacing around until he stopped and they locked eyes. He had strong features and the dark eyes gave him all that authority aura. The neat haircut made him look like some powerful guy, not that his muscles didn't do a good job at that as well.

The guy seemed to be appraising him too and after some time he scrunched his nose in disapproval. Well, he was sorry if he was no Greek god, but there wasn't much he could do about it. The guy went pacing again, but this time he disappeared into another room to their left.

He had other things to worry about. How was he supposed to contact his family and let them know what happened? He probably was the only stupid human on earth who would leave their cell phone behind and go on a walk into the unknown.

He was ready to scratch the back of his neck when a big hand stopped him, grabbing his wrist. He looked up to stare one more time at the guy in front of him. His eyes had the glint of someone who was used to order people around, maybe he really was some powerful big shot. 

Even if he wanted to continue the staring competition that seemed to be a thing between them, since they would lock eyes with each other on every given opportunity, it was the other who always controlled the length of their little game. And after breaking the visual contact, the man looked at the boy's hand and sighed.

Then he realized his hands were painted with dried blood, the crusty sensation making him feel sick. Now that he was paying attention, he realized he was in really bad shape, with all that dirt stuck on him. Making it simple, he was a filthy mess.

But soon the other took a firm grip of his wrist and scrubbed his hand with a wet cloth. Or the guy was a magician, making wet clothes appear from nowhere or he got it in the room he went to before. The first option made him want to laugh. Imagining the tall guy wearing a long cape with a top hat made him relax a little.

Their eyes met again and the tall guy probably asked him something. He just gave him a tiny smile and leisurely pulled his hand from the man's grip. He walked to the table where the secretary supposedly would stay, searching for a pen and something he could write on. He found a piece of paper that seemed unimportant and followed with his plan, writing "I'm deaf" on it and handing it to the other.

The guy kept his stoic face.