Hey everyone welcome. Bear & Cub has been a great story and it's proven well on AO3 (TuxEdwards). If you do enjoy B&C, please read some of my other works: Counting, Counting Down (the sequel to Counting), Not Capable of Love, Fire (on AO3) and Jaded (on AO3). Please take a few minutes to drop me an email to let me know if Bear & Cub is for you: Foxfire3730@proton.me

 

I wish a happy holidays for you and yours. Since this is the busy season, it's time for me to reflect, think of new ideas for possible stories, and write write write, so this will be the last chapter posted of 2023. Look for the amazing last few chapters of Bear & Cub to begin again on Jan 3. Thank you so much for your kind words about my stories. You don't know how much they mean to me.

 

If you like my stories and want to tip or donate to me, consider buying me a coffee: Thank You

 

"The Universe is Made of Stories, Not of Atoms" -Muriel Rukeyser

 

Police Dog

 

Clyde Burns

"Detective Burns." 

"Hey Burns, this is Smith. Your homicide contact called me because it's your day off and everything. I thought maybe I could handle it, but you need to see this."

"I've got the boy, man. We spent all day at the pier, and we're on our way to the hospital right now to talk to Gus, the witness to the murder that took place at the hotel."

Smith heaves a sigh and murmurs into his smartphone, "That's why I'm calling you. I'm thinking this murder might have been connected to Gus."

"What! Are you sure? Where are you?"

I drive like a madman in and out of traffic with my siren and lights on until we get to the crime scene. I would have thought Ryder would have been scared, but you would have thought he was on some kind of rollercoaster the way he yelled and laughed. I think Bear was having just as much fun with his head out of Ryder's door as he was holding him tightly.

The crime scene is under a bridge at one of the homeless tent camps. Something went through here like a tornado. Tents were thrown this way and that, ripped, and scattered. I hop out of the Jeep and turn to see Ryder about to hop into my arms. "Whoa there, squirt, you have to stay here and watch Bear."

His eyes dart back and forth, giving the impression that there is danger in every direction. His bottom lip begins to tremble, and I take him in my arms as he says, "But... but I want to go."

I reassured him, "You're going to be fine," as I pointed over to Smith, who was beckoning me over. "See, I'll be right there. You can watch me from here." At that very moment, Bear leaps out of the Jeep and dashes in the direction of Smith. I yell after him, "Bear, damn it, come back!" I miss reaching for him with my free hand.

"Bear! Bear, come back!" Yells Ryder. 

"Here, sit down and buckle up," I instruct him, and I hurriedly help him buckle his belt. "Don't undo that belt, understand?" I ask Ryder, and he nods with a worried look on his face.

I rush over to the police officer standing guard over the yellow tape. "Hey Boots, see that boy?" I ask him.

"Yes sir."

"I need you to stand next to him and watch him. He's an important witness; don't let him out of that Jeep." Then, before he can protest, I take off after the dog. I'm too old for this shit. I could really use a drink.

I find the dog lying next to a body lying on the ground with a blanket covering it. I catch my breath and light a cigarette.

Smith teases me by saying, "You know, that's why you're out of breath," and I take the joke in good spirit.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here. Tell me what you have."

The body lies next to a blue camping tent that has been ripped in two. Its contents were scattered and tossed about. Smith interrupts my scanning to hand me a book. It's a photo album, and it's filled with pictures of Gus and Bear. "Isn't that the kid you brought to the hospital?" He asks in a hushed tone.

"Yeah, and his dog. Do we know who the victim is?"

Smith looks at this notebook and answers, "Fifty-eight-year-old Captain Luke `Bud' Brown. From the pictures, it looks like he was in the Marines and ran a K9 training unit."

I squat down and pet Bear's head and share his sorrow. "That explains how well trained the boy's dog is. He's even using the German language in his commands. After everything he's been through, this is going to crush Gus."

"They worked him over really bad. A broken nose, multiple cuts on his body, and a broken arm are just some of the torture he must have endured. I don't think he ever gave up the kid. These pictures were scattered around the body, and this was shoved into the old man's mouth," Smith adds as he hands me a crumpled-up piece of paper in a clear evidence bag and a rubber glove.

I put the glove on, and then he handed me a stack of about ten pictures. They started pretty creepy, but not bad, with Gus walking around in the park and down the sidewalks with Bear and him sitting on a street corner. He was sitting with Bud outside their tent. The next few get progressively rougher: Gus naked showering with a bunch of other boys cleaning the insides of their butts; him wearing a green cat collar and green panties, a large man holding Gus; following the District Attorney up some stairs. The last few were of the large man and the DA raping Gus. This was the torture part for Bud. If this was my boy that I raised in these pictures, I'd break.

"They must have followed Gus right to the hotel. That's how they knew where they were auctioning off the boys," I say to myself.

The last evidence bag contains a ripped piece of paper with the hospital letterhead that reads: `LA General, room 3114.' 

That's Gus's room!

"Come on!" I say it urgently and head to the Jeep. "I need a couple cars sent to the hospital. Tell them I'm on my way!" I instruct Smith as we run to the Jeep. I jump in the Jeep and turn and shout, "Bear!" The dog parts the crowd of people and jumps in the back.

"You're taking the dog?" Questionably asks Smith as he dodges the dog.

"Yeah, he's growing on me," I tell him before peeling out of there. The ride over there was hectic. Ryder flooded me with questions, and Bear could sense my panic, howling along with the siren. I call the hospital over and over, and no one will pick up, not only in Gus's room but anywhere. I change tactics and call police dispatch. "Detective Burns S.C.U., do you have any open calls at the LA General Hospital?"

"That's affirmative, Detective. We got a silent alarm, but no confirmation. We have a car en route."

"Copy!" I shout over the dog and the siren. "Hold on, Ryder!" I pat his leg and give it a little squeeze. He gives me a quick smile, and the weight of the situation hangs on. I don't know what I'm doing. It's my day off. I'm supposed to be spending it with Ryder. They're going after Gus, whoever "they" are.

His last words to me echo in my head: "Am I going to die?" I pound my fist on the steering wheel and curse at the sudden pain in my hand. I up-shift into third gear to get enough speed to pass this idiot driving like my grandma, and then back down to fourth.

We come to a stop in front of the ER door and hop out of the Jeep. Once I get to the passenger door, I find Ryder sitting on his knees, and Bear is now upfront. I open the glove box, pull my second gun from its holster, and slip it below my back on my belt. "You two stay here," I tell them as I pull a second badge from the glove box and toss it to Ryder, continuing, "when the next cop car gets here, show them that and tell them I'm inside and that you're supposed to sit in the back of their car, got it?" Ryder nods, and I pet Bear's head. "Until then, stay with Bear. Don't leave his side." Then I turn and head inside.

People stream out the ER doors dressed in off-green scrubs and gowns of off-white and green plaid. Once inside, chaos fills the bottom floor with doctors, nurses, and patients flooding the room from the stairs and elevators. I get a few screams when my gun is seen, but my badge hanging from my neck stops them quick enough. Weaving my way to a group of doctors, I ask, "What the hell is going on here?" Even though I pretty much already know.

"A group of men entered here, shooting up the place," one of the doctors tells me.

I nod and work my way up the stairs. It's slow going, and I have to stop here and there to help people that are trying to get out as fast as they can, but I make my way to the fourth floor. The fear of what these men want with the boy urges me forward, excusing myself and trying to rush my ascent as fast as I can.

I open the door and lead with my gun as I hurry over to the closest corner and lean against the wall. The lights are out, and the ceiling is chewed up by bullet fire. Light flickers from random ceiling tiles, and light covers hang from wires and broken fasteners. I can hear laughter echoing down the halls like a homing beacon. Across from the hall is one of the policemen I posted at Gus's door.

He's sitting up in a pool of his own blood, holding his gut. Our eyes meet, and he holds up a hand with three fingers on it. I nod sorrowfully at him, knowing he doesn't have much time. Gut shots are pretty serious. Gus, or the dying man in front of me? FUCK! I cross the hall and enter the supply closet. I've been here enough these past few months to memorize where every room is on this floor. I grab gauze, wrap, and alcohol, then hurry back. I pulled his knife from his belt and cut his shirt off.

"What's your name?" I ask him in hushed tones as I check around the corner to make sure they haven't heard us.

"Grant, sir," he whispers back.

"Okay, Grant, this is going to hurt like hell," I tell him seconds before I dump alcohol all over his bullet wound. He fights back his scream, and I panic, so I cover his mouth. Seconds go by until he nods, letting me know he's good, and I go back to work. "This should hold you off for a little while. Try not to move around," I tell him as I wrap up the gauze around his midsection. He nods again.

I take his pistol and reload it for him before giving it back. "Watch that door. You can do this. Stay alert and watch that door," I order him in the hopes that he concentrates on the job keeping him awake.

Looking around the corner, I see the other policeman being dragged, kicking and screaming by the hair, towards Gus's room. There are two men torturing him, trying to get the key that opens Gus's room. There is a third gunman sitting in a nurse's chair just outside the nurse's office. Thankfully for me, none of them are looking this way.

As quick as I can, I rush the man in the chair. I tackle him, rolling us behind the nurse's station. During the confusion, I take his strapped gun and use its strap to choke him out. The other two men are too engaged in hurting the guard to hear him choking and struggling to get free.

"Come on, tell me which key! You're running out of time!"

"He isn't going to talk, Freddy. Let's just kill him, and we'll smash through the door. Right, Bruce... Bruce?" The second man turns and notices his buddy missing. "Bruce? Stop fucking around," he says as I hear his footsteps getting closer. I untangled myself from the unconscious man still in his office chair. Getting to my feet, I ready myself so that as soon as I see his gun barrel, I grab it, pulling him behind the desk.

"Hey Mel! What's going on? Stop messing around! We don't have time!" Says the man with the policeman in his arms. 

The man who's trying to kill me wrestles around behind the desk. We trade blows after blow, trying not to get shot and, of course, not to shoot ourselves. Somehow, I get myself worked around so I can get him in a choke hold when I see the last gunman creeping around the desk to see what his buddies are doing.

Shit! What am I going to do? Gus is depending on me. I move Mel, who is struggling in my arms, between me and Freddy, hoping he can absorb the bullets from Freddy's gun. I know what you're thinking, because I'm thinking it too. You're using him as a humane shield; that's harsh, but better him than me. If I go down... I can't let them get Gus!

"Sorry, Mel, it looks like you're not going to make it," the last gunman says, raising his gun at us.

We both brace for the gun to go off when the last gunman's eyes switch from cockiness to horror as a very large black lab flies through the air and tackles the last gunman. The sounds of his gun going off are drowned out by growling and clothes ripping, bringing our little scuffle to a halt as we both watch the man trying to get the dog to release his arm. This gave me time to slap the cuffs on Mel and kick his gun down the hall.

I grab the zip ties that are on the hospital cart and pick up my gun that I dropped during my fight. Not sure what to say, I shout, "Down Bear! Let him go! Down Bear!"

Bear lets go and backs up, standing next to me. I lean down and zip-tie the gunman's hands and feet. Movement down the hall jerks my attention, and I draw my gun while falling to one knee. Ryder, hiding behind a hospital cart, lets out a little scream. Well shit, you have to be kidding me! I reholster my gun. The policeman isn't hurt too badly but is out for the count. He's got a nice bump on the back of his head, which I'm sure has everything to do with him being unconscious.

I can see dents all along the door knob to Gus's room, where the kidnappers were trying to get in. Looking inside, I don't see Gus or any movement. If I shot the door, it would be too dangerous, with all the oxygen tanks in that room and out here. It'd be my luck if I blew up the kid that I'm trying to save.

I quickly scan the hallway and see a fireman's axe in a metal box with a glass door. I hurry down the hall with Ryder on my heels, get the axe, and rush back to see Bear digging at the base of the door. "Get back, Bear; we'll get him out," I tell Gus's best friend.

The dog gets behind me, and I raise the axe above my head, then pause. I hear voices coming down the halls. I've got to hurry. The axe comes down with enough force to strike the door at the top hinge, severing it from the door. I repeat it at the bottom and then knock off the door knob. Cutting the security hasp, which locks this door in case of a hostage situation, will be a little more difficult, but I get it.

The talking turned into running when they heard me banging on the door. I kick the door, and it falls to the ground. Ryder quickly runs up to me and hugs me as we walk into the room. "What are you doing up here?" I ask now that I have a moment to do so. By the look in his face, it must have sounded a little more harsh than I expected. It would have been that I was just really winded or dreading what would happen if those men found the room and we were still in it.

"You, um, towd me to stay with Bear," he simply responds, fear gripping his face. How brave this little boy must be to follow me in here!

I mess up his hair and say, "You're very brave, Ryder," and he shows me a smile, although a shaky one. "Bear, find him; find Gus."

The dog bolts in and smells around the bed for a while, and I check the hall. I can hear doors opening and slamming shut a few halls over. Soon after, I hear policeman Grant shooting his gun down the hall. Checking back with the dog, he is rushing all over the room and then settles on the air vent in the corner. He begins to dig at the vent. Next to the vent is an IV stand, and its tube stretches inside. What is it with this kid hiding in heat ducting? I rush to pry the vent off, and sure enough, Gus is lying inside.

I take Gus under my arms and carefully pull him out. His body is limp, and I can tell he's passed out either from the pain or medically. I pull the IV out of his arm and pick him up. "Ryder, stay close to me," I instruct as I take Gus and Ryder to the laundry hamper I saw up the hall. I dig a hole in the dirty sheets and place Gus inside. Picking Ryder up, I tell him, "Look, buddy, I need you to guard this boy. His name is Gus, and like you, he was treated badly by the same men. Stay quiet until I come back to get you, understand?"

Ryder looks petrified at me and then into Gus's face. In that moment, I saw something in his eyes. Ryder either thinks he remembers him or something entirely different is happening. His face is smooth and perfect again, not marked by fear and `what ifs.' He brushes Gus's long red bangs from his eyes and then looks longingly into them, making Ryder blush. What did I just witness? I cover them up with blankets and whatever else is in the linen room next to the hamper. Then I pushed the hamper into the room and shut the door.

Gus

"You're going to sleep like a baby," my nurse tells me, tickling me a little. She injects some sleeping medicine into my IV tube and kisses my forehead.

"Not for long, right? I don't want to sleep all day."

"Sugar, I'd be happy for a couple hours. I know you're not sleeping at night, so sleep until you wake up. You are practically naked, and you have the stuffed dog that the kind detective gave you. I'll shut off the lights, and you should be all set."

"When will the detective come see me today?"

"He said he was stopping by during visiting hours, so be a good child and sleep for me."

"Can I be naked? I'll sleep much better, I promise."

"Good lord, child, keep your underwear on. I'm not going to tell you again."

I snuggle down into my pillow, and she tucks me in. I find it hard to sleep without Bear. I was in a coma for the last month while they gave my body time to heal. I guess I was in bad shape when they brought me in here. I don't remember much before waking up a few days ago. I remember Bear, of course, and being saved, but I can't remember by whom or why I needed to be saved. There has been a nice detective that keeps visiting me, and he said he'd fill me in on everything when I was ready.

I watch TV and begin to feel the medicine. My eyelids are so heavy. Time passes in between the TV shows as my lids stay closed more and more until...

BANG! BANG!

I'm up! My eyes jerk around the room, and I don't see anyone. Then my door locks with a loud clang, and I can barely see blurry doctors and nurses running back and forth outside my window. I'm not sure what is going on, but when the security guard was thrown into the big window, I quickly scooted off my bed and stumbled in the darkness to the window. My legs feel like marshmallows, and if it weren't for this IV stand, I would have smashed my face on the floor a few times for sure.

I close the window curtain so no one can see me in here and then slide down the wall on my butt to stop the room from spinning. I need to hide. I can feel my eyes closing. I fight it with everything I have, but I lose the fight.

"Open the door!"

"Open the door!"

My eyes spring open once again, and I look around the room in a panic. Oh right. I was looking for a place to hide. My blurry eyes search the room, and ideas fight the fog in my head. I could hide behind the curtains, the bed, or the dresser, and then I see it. There is a heating vent. It'll be a little snug, but I bet I could slide into it feet first and then snap the vent back on. I crawl over there, pry the vent cover off, and do just that. It's pretty uncomfortable in here with my arms above my head, but hopefully I don't have to be in here long.

I feel myself wake up again, but not enough to open my eyes. Instead of that chilly metal vent, soft cloth is all around me. Someone is touching my face. They draw their fingers gently down my cheek to my chest, where they circle my nipples, and I hear myself moan softly. The fingers trace my muscles that I've earned on the street. I open my eyes and blink them a couple times before they focus on... "Am I dead?" I ask the beautiful boy in front of me.

He's about my age but smaller and thinner than me. He's wearing a neon green t-shirt and swim trunks. His face can only be described as perfect. His skin blushes a little, but just enough to make him a little bit cuter. His amazing hazel eyes almost glow when he looks deep into mine, and his brown hair, which is faded on the sides and long enough to be combed on top, fits his overall look

"No, you're fine. Why do you think you're dead?" He whispers softly.

"You look like an Angel."

He blushes even more and takes my hand. "Uncwe Cwyde saved you from the bad men. We found you in a heating vent, and after puwwing you out, he brought you here. We're hiding in a waundry hamper."

That is a lot to take in, and I'm not sure, but I think I might have fallen asleep at the end. I reposition myself so I can lay on his lap, and he gently combs his fingers through my hair. He smells like the ocean, with a hint of a little boy's smell. "Little boys smell so nice," I murmur and snuggle into his crotch right before I doze off again.

Clyde Burns

"Come on, come on, unlock the door," I tell one of the hospital janitors. It took me forever to find someone with keys to open this room. After I left the boys and Bear to guard them in the linen closet, I checked on Officer Grant. He's taken another bullet to the arm but managed to kill the kidnapper they sent from the third floor to check on the men up here. He assured me, He's good, so I headed down to meet Smith and the rest of the S.C.U. on the child floor. 

We found two men, each with a hostage: a little boy and a young nurse. Negotiations did their job, and it didn't take long to clear the floor. I left Smith to clean up as I looked for someone outside to help Officer Grant and me unlock the linen closet door where I hid the boys.

The janitor fumbles with the keys, but he does open it and is met with a very upset guard dog. "It's me, Bear! It's me; calm down, boy," I hurriedly say as I get in between him and the janitor who's about to have a heart attack.

Bear sits back down and allows me to get to the boys. I notice he hasn't taken his eyes off the janitor, so I tell him it's best he let me handle it from here. I pull the blankets back, and Ryder's smile is the first thing I see. Gus sleeps comfortably in Ryder's lap as he combs his little fingers through his red hair. Gus's near-naked form, with his tight cartoon briefs that the hospital provided, is curled like a baby.

"Let's get you out of there, kiddo," I tell Gus as I pick him up.

He mumbles something that sounds like, 'Who are you?' 

"I'm Detective Burns. Don't you remember me?"

"Detective? Did you save my life?" he asks in a whisper.

"Shhhh, let's get you back to bed," I tell him as calmly as I can. I help Ryder out of the hamper, and he hugs my legs as I pat and rub his back. "I'm very proud of you. You kept Gus safe; good job, kiddo," I assure him, and he pays me back with an embarrassed grin right before he buries his face in my crotch in a big hug.

We walk back into the room, with the door lying on the floor. I put Gus back in the hospital bed, and Ryder pulls a chair over to him and climbs in it. He gently takes Gus's hand. Bear lays down next to the bed and takes his guarding position. I stand in the doorway and wait to flag down a nurse to rehook Gus's IV tube.

"He said I wook wike an Angew," Ryder says with a little jump in his voice.

I chuckle and respond, "You sure are as sweet as one." He giggles and squirms in his chair a little. "You like Gus, don't you? Do you think he's cute? You've been giggly and practically glowing since you've seen him."

Ryder smiles a mischievous smile and says, "I do not! I mean, sure, he's very cute and aww, but... he probabwy won't wike me." Then, very softly, he whispers, "I'm only good for one thing."

I was going to tell him that wasn't true, but the statement struck me so hard that my words got stuck in my throat. The sadness in that boy's whisper hurt me to the core.

I wipe the tear that escaped my control when I finally flag a nurse down, and when she enters the room, she stops abruptly when Bear stands up and holds his ground. "It's okay, Bear; she's a good guy," Ryder says with a cuteness to his voice that makes me smile.

"Detective Burns! You can't have a dog in a hospital!" The overwhelmed nurse says as she looks at me crossly.

I look at Bear, and he tilts his head at me as if he's wondering how I was going to talk us out of this one. "He's, um, a police dog. Yeah, he specializes in witness protection. You should thank him; you're safer now that he's here," I tell her as seriously as I can. She isn't buying it, and Ryder's snickering didn't help any, but she let us keep him there as long as he stayed in the room.

Time goes by, and eventually the hospital gets back to something somewhat normal. Ryder and Gus become fast friends as Ryder tells the story of how he and Bear saved me over and over. Gus tells incredible stories about how he has been living and surviving on his own, with Bud's help, of course. I haven't had the heart to tell him about Bud's passing yet. He's been through enough.

Ryder and I stay until men from the S.C.U. show up to watch over Gus for me. I'm not messing around with normal cops this time. If I hadn't moved Gus to a room that we use for bad guys earlier this morning, he'd be dead.

Ryder yawns and says, "Bye Cub. See you tomorrow."

We head to the elevator, and I scoop the sleepy boy up into my arms. "Cub?" I ask with a little tummy tickle.

"He towd me his friends caww him Cub," giggles Ryder, who then lays his head on my shoulder.

"Bear & Cub... makes sense, I guess," I tell the dog sitting next to me while we wait for the elevator.