Chapter XXIII Part I

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"Rover?"

His eyes were still closed, first out of sheer exhaustion but then in a part of a greater attempt to shut himself off from the rest of the world.

The masculine voice spoke up again, "Rover?!"

There was little else he could do to combat the draining sensation in his leg, the tiredness that had washed over him, the growing migraine, or the things he had seen.

"I'm pretty sure he's asleep, maybe just give him a nudge, Sparky," a higher-pitched female voice rang.

"..?"

"Oh, right."

He couldn't remember the last time he had been like this; even in his worst moments he energetically freaked out, ran, barked, or whimpered away at whatever was causing him hurt, grief, or upset. Now he felt dead, like he could just vaguely remember being not too long ago, but it was almost somehow worse.

"Hellooooooo, wake upppp!"

"Brownie, please be more gentle with him, maybe."

"But we just tried that, we need to give him a good slap or something."

There was a sigh. "No... it might be his injury... how long did he have that thing in him?"

A somewhat unfamiliar masculine voice spoke up. "Oh, uh, well, the moment I got back downstairs I tried messing with the... 'splinter', and of course I managed to get it out but..."

It was like his whole body had friction burns all over it, like he had just slid across grass for a whole hour trying to get the last-second touchdown that never came. Similarly, he felt defeated, like there wasn't anything to do but lie down and wait for it all to be over. He couldn't do anything; he couldn't save anyone.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah! It was a lot of blood, yaknow? Screw me for wanting to get a drink of water- it's not like Olive didn't do the same."

"Okay, firstly, Olly is allowed to get a drink of water- you're not."

"Wha- Why?"

"Second, you don't just do that while some poor dog is just splurting blood everywhere! How did you even manage to clean it so fast?"

"Oh! Uh... Coco has really good dishtowels?"

"..."

"... We do have really good dishtowels..."

"UuuUUuuUGhhhh."

He kind of wished like he could stay half-asleep like this, forever.

"Guys, I'm just going to try again."

"Go for it."

He was so tired.

"Rover?

"Rover, it's me, I'm okay."

But there was something about that voice...

"Can you please wake up Rover, we need to know you're okay."

It made his heart billow, then burn up with life and heat. He had to get up.

Get up.

"Rover, please,

"Get up!"

Rover took a deep breath, inhaling both through his snout and his mouth as he involuntarily gasped for air. His eyes squinted open, then fluttered before the dark orange orbs shimmered in the light of the room, moisture falling from them and running down the jack russel's cheek. His back arched upward, and he realized he was on Coco's table, facing up towards a crowd of faces all peering over him with concern.

"Holy cats!" Coco exclaimed, "That actually worked?!"

"Hah, awesome!" Cujo joined in, taking a step back so as to give the terrier some space.

"Rover, are you alright?" his Captain asked, the bluish visage only now coming into view as his eyes churned out blobs of colour that slowly gained definition. Something was wrong.

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