CALL ME MR. RATTLEBONE — VISITOR-ISH?

[B. DELORIA]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4; color:black;"]The first time- that hadn't really been Butch's idea, but where else was he supposed to go? The vault didn't have anything for him -and they didn't need a barber for survival no matter how much he might argue against that point- and when he left, he realized just how...terrified he was of being alone in a new world. So he caught up with Val, who was wearing the jacket Butch gave him for saving his mom from those bastard roaches, and he managed to somehow convince the guy not to kick him out on his ass. He'd had every reason to, considering through their shared childhood, Butch spent most of that time picking on him in various ways, enacting the fierce envy he had of Val's father on him, and he hadn't deserved it. It wasn't like Val had any say in Butch's father, or that he'd affected his mother's spiral into alcoholism. But he'd been there, and he'd give back as good as he took, better sometimes; somehow, though, Butch had wound up at his side, and then later found he wasn't so keen on leaving it. Then, out of some kinda twist from a story, Val became...well, Butch wasn't a sap, okay? He was a tunnel snake through and through, but he couldn't pretend that gang was larger than just the pair of them, or that it would ever include anyone else when Butch was this content with how things were. He didn't need anybody else watching his back.

Damn, but he missed Nosebleed. The shepherd could take care of himself, he just- needed a hand with it sometimes, like after his father died and Butch worried he'd never smile again. The fact of the matter was, they had a good thing going between them, something he wouldn't trade for the world, and he wouldn't let some measly injuries or distance keep them from finding each other. As far as he was concerned, nothing else mattered but finding Val. He could almost pretend the paws he laid on were Val's side, except all that did was kick the longing into overdrive.

The border collie stared a little while longer at the photograph, aching for a chance to hear him call Butch dumbass one more time, stupid as that sounded. He could make it sound fond, like darling. Okay, maybe not, but Butch could pretend, all right? Reading between the lines was kinda their thing; he'd just need a little while to comprehend, and eventually, "dumbass" became whatever he needed it to be. Right now, he could use a sharp "dumbass" to get him off his rambling ass, but instead, he closed his eyes and settled in, breathing through the pain, at least until he was disturbed from what would be a very peaceful rest by a voice. Did he know what it was saying? No. It was like listening to Val on a science rant, except he didn't think this was actually English. The flurry of questions he could understand, and the border collie sighed, his one drooping ear twitching.

He took a crowbar to the lids of his eyes and peered at the slightly blurry canine, tongue suddenly lead in his mouth. [color=#447ab9]"They hurt? 'S about as much as I can tell you." He lifted his head slowly, blinking. [color=#447ab9]"Somebody bit me a coupla times on the leg. Feels kinda funny." By funny, he meant painful, and the effort it required to speak was beginning to take a toll on his energy reserves. He watched her bustle about, not quite certain yet that she wasn't a hallucination, although if this was his near-death illusion, he thought it would've been Val. She was like some kinda angel, unless that was just the way the light silhouetted her against the grass. [color=#447ab9]"Imperia. Imperialism. Think I learned about that once." Butch dropped his head back to his paws, exhaling heavily. [color=#447ab9]"It was boring." There was something wet swiped across his face, cleaning the tacky blood from his fur, and that felt much better.

[color=#447ab9]"Hmm?" His family? Oh. Val and his father. He didn't think he could consider James family. The doc...yeah, he was what Butch wanted in a dad, why he spent so much time pushing Val around when they were younger, but he was always just the delinquent to him. Even when they found him, his focus was Val and his work. Not much time for making nice. Still, though...It wasn't a wrong guess. [color=#447ab9]"Yep." He popped the "p." [color=#447ab9]"That's Val. The small one. He's older now, 'n I gotta find him." Butch dragged his gaze to the mass of white nearby, who was also talking to him now. She was right, wasn't she? He must have looked awful. His poor fur.

[color=#447ab9]"She did?" Had she asked him his name? He hadn't noticed if she did. [color=#447ab9]"'M Butch. Not kiddo." Butch paused, blinking, trying to stay awake. That was the point, wasn't it? Why they both kept talking to him? [color=#447ab9]"H've you seen him? In the picture? He's smart but he's dumb 'n I gotta find him before he does something stupid."