[PRP] We are hungry men... {Obi / Esben / Banyan }

[Sukkubus]

"No."

It was the first firm word he had spoken since melting into the passenger seat of Banyan's car. How many times had they replayed this same scene, give or take a couple of cuts, bruises, and puncture wounds. Obi pressed his back into the seat, swiping the condensation away from his can with a thumb; he took a noisy slurp.

"No," he repeated with a shake of his head. "I can't leave him behind. He's my brother. I just can't...."

He waved a paw, knuckles cracking gently against the window. His loyalty would make the Marines proud, semper fi! If he wasn't going to be there at the hospital, no one was. You couldn't trust those people. Obi set the can between his knees and peeled off his massive coat, stuffing it near his feet. There was a click and rattle of chains with all of his movements, and when he sat back, he plucked at his snug shirt to air himself.

"...Maybe in the morning. I don't know, Banyan, I don't trust doctors. What if something else happens?" he asked, staring tiredly out at the lights flashing by his window. "He can do whatever the hell he wants, so long as he doesn't die. Or at least, that was the deal. I don't know anymore, Ma'. I don't know how long he can keep going like this and how long I can keep caring."

That was a bold-faced lie, for sure. If Obi had a problem, it was his compassion coupled with his loyalty, a real troublesome cocktail. He took another draw from his can and looked over his shoulder at Esben, prone on Banyan's backseat and then at Banyan herself. His guilt stung, even as he reached over to brush her upper arm with the back of his fingers, both an apologetic and thankful gesture.

"I'm sorry. Jesus, I'm sorry."  

[Syrcaid]

"Just sit back, honey, we'll patch him up same as last time. He's lucky he's got so much hair or all those scars would be really noticeable by now. How does he expect to lure any ladies when he looks like he lost a match with a rabid badger?"

She finally turned out of Aekea and headed for home with a sigh of relief.

"We're out of town, thank goodness," she said. "Doctors aren't bad, honey, it's just the cheap ones your friend and mine are used to dealing with were questionable to begin with. There are some nice doctors, though the only one I know of right now is for women."

She gave a little laugh, looking through her rearview mirror to see Esben.

"Do you suppose he'd care if we took him to an ObGyn?"  

[Sukkubus]

"You'd be surprised how many girls like scars," he said with a snort. Very few of his own were just that, his own. One on his elbow from when he was a kid, one on the heel of his paw-pad, the curve of his bent knee. Those were from jumping from mango trees in a local orchard, stealing avocados from the neighbors, meeting the concrete when his knees buckled as he ran, laughing. Not like the one decorating his collarbone from a knife, or the shiny patterns where fur was sporadic on his knuckles from teeth catching them when he threw a punch. He only wished he could say the long, thin lines on his sides were from women that were crazy about him, or that the webbing across his shoulder wasn't from getting caught in a crossfire. It looked enough like a bite mark, didn't it? He'd say it was a bite mark to save himself the shame.

Oh well.

"Last thing I want to do is get him another horse doctor." Obi searched for the lever to let his seat back; he hated sitting so straight. The corner of his mouth twitched, "I don't think he has anything an ObGyn would be interested in looking at. I'd take him to a curandera if he only trusted them."  

[Syrcaid]

"It's not so much trust, honey, as they'd probably run out of silver milagros to nail on the saint's wall asking for them to heal," Banyan laughed, having heard this story time and time again. "I was smart this time and had the carpet pre-treated to resist fluids. I think it's time we intervened, honey, but I don't know how. Neither you nor I have enough connections to keep him out of trouble."

Banyan escaped from the jaws of Hell once more and turned into the quiet, almost too idyllic town that was the Barton suburbs where her apartment was. Her apartment was situated among a string of narrow, elbow-to-elbow houses that were turned into duplexes almost a decade ago. Her landlord practically let her stay for free provided she kept the house clean. Banyan, despite being a rat, made her home extremely comfortable since she spent many hours tucked away writing or sorting though photography proofs for her portfolio.

"Would it violate some local law to chain him to his room?" she thought out loud. "Can you find someone to force him to keep a job? I don't think even finding him a lover would work for long."  

[Sukkubus]

Obi's ears flicked gently. Banyan's laugh, no matter the situation, always managed to briefly alleviate his worries... and Obi was a worrier. He scratched his collarbone, blunt nails rasping against his skin. He wanted a shower.

"I don't know, Ma'. I mean, he needs boot camp. Or a straitjacket. Or reprogramming. Like in the movies," he said like he meant it, and he did-- and sounded wonderfully naive in the process. His scratching fingers moved to rub his tall ear.

"He might get off on chains since he obviously gets off on getting the s**t beaten out of him. Maybe we should just break his arms and legs so he can't go anywhere for a while."

Obi twisted the tab of the beer can loose. He dumped the tab into the empty can and rattled it gently:

"I think he owes us that much, you know. You get an arm, I get an arm, bust his kneecaps."

The Doberman sniffed and wrinkled his nose.  

[Syrcaid]

"Honey, if I knew how to reprogram, I wouldn't hesitate. We need to get him some new obsession that's safer. If he gets off on chains, then it wouldn't be torture to keep him tied up. Thing is, I couldn't do that kind of thing here...."

Banyan was actually giving it serious thought. Then the idea struck her like Hades himself rose crossed the River Styx and rose to whisper the thought into her soft, tissue paper ears.

"But I know a certain someone in Durem who could," she shook a finger at nothing as they entered the parking lot to her apartment.

She ventured nothing else until she parked the car and turned off the engine so that they say in the dark. Banyan leaned in close to Obi and went on.

"My mother could do it, you see," Banyan said in a low, conspirator's tone. "She lives in an old warehouse and no one even cares what she does in there. Durem's so crooked and busy with their own set of problems that no one looks twice at the place. And with that robot of hers, no one's stupid enough to try and break in... or break out. No one's gonna look for Esben if he disappears because he's got no family. They know you, Obi honey, if you go to his beat up apartment and pick up his things..."

Banyan shook her head and flung herself back in her seat. She put her palm to her forehead and her eyes went wide.

"What am I talking about? This is insane! But I can't help wondering if it'd save his life!"