Explain It Like I'm Tree

Checkup

Mystery sat in the passenger seat of the van, sneaking glances out of the corner of his eye at the driver. As far as he could tell, Arthur had been honest about their destination when he'd asked Mystery to come with him. Nothing about this situation suggested he was being taken to the vet, but Vivi had pulled many creative contrivances to get him there before. You never really knew for sure where you were headed until you were there, or at least, that was Mystery's philosophy after his third trip, "Totally just to the park for a walk."

He could hear Arthur's heartbeat, slightly erratic in his chest. His breathing came and went in an unnaturally steady pattern that suggested all concentration not allocated to driving was focused on keeping his airflow stable.

Soon enough, they pulled into the parking lot of Tempo First Medical Center, just as Arthur said they would. Mystery huffed a sigh of relief. No vet today. Arthur shifted into park, pulled the emergency brake, and removed the key. The putter of the engine died out, taking with it Arthur's breathing and mobility. His hand, still clutching the key, hovered just in front of the ignition. Wavering.

Ah. Of course. This is why.

Mystery rose to his paws and crossed to the center seat, gently nosing Arthur's arm.

Arthur flinched, his hand jerking back. The keys flew somewhere in the back. His pupils were like pinpricks, and his breathing more closely matched the heart rate Mystery could hear thundering away. His right arm curled around to grip his prosthetic and he dropped his forehead to the top of the steering wheel, eyes shut tight.

Mystery's ears and tail lowered. He sat next to Arthur, leaning his weight into the man's side. He stayed silent, waiting as Arthur slowly worked his way through the panic. After precisely seven minutes and an acceptable reduction in heartrate, he cleared his throat. "Seems I'm not the only one around here who hates going to the vet. I don't suppose you could shift Vivi on this subject for me?"

A short laugh broke from Arthur, taking some of his tension with it. Muscles loosened. Arthur released the grip on his prosthetic to place his hand on Mystery's head, the fingers massaging the spot just below his skull that set his tail wagging every time. "Sorry, buddy. I've gotta go, and..." he caught on the sentence for a moment, then picked it up again, "... and so do you. But it's not your turn today."

"So I've gathered." Mystery inclined his head toward the door. "Shall we?"

Arthur nodded, fumbling with the handle. Mystery leaped into the back while Arthur exited.

All kinds of scents in the clutter back there. Musty books. Bits of wood and animal bone. The winter-ice scent of the baseball bat he never let touch him. The smell of sweat and skin cells and saliva on the thin pad and blanket. Crushed Monster cans, empty coffee cups, and greasy tools. In the middle of it all, a set of keys with a little plastic crown-wearing wrench attached. Mystery took this between his teeth and leaped back into the front seat, then out the driver's door.

Arthur was waiting for him, pale, but standing. "Thanks, buddy." He stooped to retrieve the keys, then clipped the end of a long, red leash onto Mystery's collar. "And thanks for coming."

Outside the privacy of the van, Mystery merely woofed in response.

Arthur took the end of the leash in his right hand, walking up to the front doors. They parted automatically and Arthur paused there for a moment. When Mystery pressed up against his leg, he wobbled his way in.

"Arthur Kingsmen," he said at the check-in window. "Here for... ch-check up. Doctor Noble."

Mystery couldn't see the receptionist, but her voice sounded kindly, even as she said, "Well, Mr. Kingsmen, she'll be ready to see you shortly, but the dog... unless it's a service animal?"