1,322 words. TRULY I AM TEH SUCK.

This is a Donovan and Lucius story. It might give you cavities, so please be advised.

Lucius skipped out of the grocery store, swinging a plastic bag and rattling the milk and eggs contained therein.

“Stop that,” Donovan said. “Break those eggs and I’ll break you.”

“That wouldn’t be nice at all,” Lucius said, and otherwise ignored him.

“Also, you won’t get any cake.”

Lucius slowed his skip to a walk and held the bag steady. “That would be even less nice.”

Donovan didn’t mind indulging Leliel’s frequent fantasies of domesticity, because they usually hinged on food, but he wasn’t keen on the supply runs. Standing in long lines of unfamiliar, chattering people produced a throbbing tension in his temples. Fortunately their subterranean lair was minutes away from the nearest Kroger.

Halfway there, Lucius halted beside a line of manicured bushes. The plastic bag hung by a fingernail as he bent down to investigate something unseen.

“What are you doing?” Donovan caught up to him and confiscated the milk and eggs.

“I hear something,” Lucius said. He rooted around in the soil, and tiny leaves fell on his head. Donovan heard a pained mewling, and then Lucius emerged with a kitten cuddled against his t-shirt.

The kitten was pure black and no more than a month old. It cried loudly as it sniffed Lucius, appraising. A deep, dark gash cut across its left hind leg. Blood had crusted over the injury, along with bits of dirt and pus.

“It’s hurt,” Lucius said. “We have to fix it.”

“Put it back,” Donovan said. “We don’t have time for this.”

“Look at its little face,” Lucius presented the kitten to Donovan. It craned its neck out, still crying. “Look at it.”

“Be quiet, you whining thing,” Donovan said. “I’ve had my leg cut open before and I didn’t complain half as much.” He pressed his thumb down on the kitten’s head. Its fur was soft.

“Do what you want,” he said finally. “I don’t care.”

“Hooray,” Lucius bounded ahead of Donovan, the squealing kitten hoisted above his head. What an absurd joie de vivre he had.

Leliel waited for them in the kitchen, over a mixing bowl filled with flour.

“Did you get the goods?” she said.

“Mission accomplished, ma’am,” Donovan replied.

“We also got this!” Lucius let the kitten slide onto the countertop. It tumbled over weakly, scratching the wood.

“Oh, my,” Leliel said. “That’s a nasty cut.”

“Can we make it better?” Lucius asked.

“Probably. We’ll need to clean the injury first, though.” She soaked a fresh washcloth under the faucet. Before she applied it to the kitten’s leg, she peeked under its short fluff of a tail. “Hold her, please.”

Donovan observed while Lucius grasped the kitten firmly and Leliel began to clean the leg, massaging away the caked layers of blood and dirt. The kitten writhed in pain and howled, bringing Shateiel in to glare.

“Aw, baby,” Leliel cooed. “It’ll be okay, just a little more. We’re lucky it’s not infected, aren’t we? Yes we are.”

She wrapped the kitten’s leg in gauze, then tapped its nose. It melted in her hands as if boneless, breathing softly.

“Find her a pillow to sleep on, someone,” Leliel said. Shateiel complied, glad to have the noise gone.

“Will she be okay?” Lucius said. He prodded the kitten’s belly, and it swatted him, thinking him a dream mouse.

“Yes, now let her rest. Come over here and crack these eggs,” Leliel said.

The kitten slept until late evening, long after the cake had been baked and mostly eaten. When she woke, she leapt off her pillow, meowing for attention and food.

“Must…kill…” Donovan lurched towards her, gnashing his teeth.

“No!” Lucius snatched the kitten away. “If you do that, she’ll go away forever.”

“Yes,” Donovan hissed. “That’s the intention.”

“She’s just hungry,” Lucius said. “Let’s see if we have any meats for you, kitty. Kitties love meats.”
“If I had known this thing would have turned you all into mentally deficient children, I wouldn’t have let you keep it,” Donovan said.

“I beg your pardon,” Shateiel said, entering the kitchen. “I find its constant whine just as irritating as you. Besides, Shamshiel is already a bit of a mentally deficient child—no offense, dear boy.”

“What?” Lucius said, distracted by the kitten, as she nibbled and shredded a turkey slice.

Once sated, the kitten rolled around on the floor in delight.

Charmed, Lucius squeezed her until she began to struggle and choke.

“Cut that out, if you’re so interested in keeping her alive,” Donovan said. He pried the kitten from Lucius’s grasp.

“Oops,” Lucius said.

“Have you even got a name for her?” Donovan said.

“Kitty?”

“Come on.”

“I dunno. I need a minute to think about it.”

The kitten scrambled up Donovan’s arm and onto his shoulder. It then attempted to scale the side of his head.

“Hey, you.” Donovan plucked her up by the scruff of her neck. She mewed and twisted, her extended claws rending the air. “That’s enough of that.”

He shook her for a bit, for good measure, and then let her drop to the linoleum. Unfazed, the kitten jumped onto her feet and hopped across the room, perhaps in pursuit of an imaginary prey.

“She reminds me of you. So stupidly happy,” Donovan remarked to Lucius. “I’d suggest Lucia if the saccharine cuteness of it all wouldn’t kill me.”

“I want to call her Snufflebug.”

“Lucia it is.”

“That’s okay, too.”

Lucius chased after Lucia, but she evaded him, darting between chair legs and under couches. He dove for her as she raced into Donovan’s room, skinning his knees as she escaped beneath the bed.

“Oww,” he howled, hugging his legs.

“You,” Donovan said. “Out of my room. I’ll bring you the kitten.”

“But my knees hurt,” he sniffed. “I can’t move without band-aids.”

“Lily!” Donovan shouted.

“Leliel is in the shower,” Shateiel called back.

Lucius gazed at Donovan imploringly.

“Fine, fine,” Donovan said. He brought a warm compress and bandages from the kitchen. “Sit still, this might sting.”

Lucius twitched and seethed when Donovan pressed the cloth against his scrapes.

“I said, hold still,” Donovan growled.

“But,” Lucius whimpered.

“I’m almost done,” Donovan finished with the bandages. “There.”

“Yay!” Lucius launched himself into Donovan’s lap, hugging the breath from his lungs. “You’re so nice.”

“Shut up,” Donovan tugged at a lock of Lucius’s hair. “And get off of me.”

“But you are! Today, you helped fix a kitten, and just now you fixed me.”

“I didn’t do anything for that cat, and I hate listening to you whine, that’s all.”

Lucius grinned and clung to him. “You don’t have to admit it if you don’t want to. I can keep a secret.”

“Would you shut up?” Donovan pushed him away forcefully, so much so that the smaller boy’s back banged against the wall.

“Ooh,” Lucius moaned. “It stings.”

He hunched over and shook.

Disarmed, Donovan slunk over to him. He rubbed Lucius’s back awkwardly, and muttered, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

He rarely apologized for his regular abuse of Lucius, but then, Lucius rarely seemed to mind.

“I want my kitten,” Lucius said, not raising his head.

Lucia peered out from the dark space under Donovan’s bed. In one swift movement Donovan reached for and grabbed the kitten. He deposited her in front of Lucius. “There. There she is.”

Lucius snuggled her close, silent.

“I said I was sorry,” Donovan said. “What more do you want from me?”

Still, silence.

He stroked Lucius’s hair. Lucius loved to have his hair stroked, so, naturally, Donovan rarely did it.

After a few minutes of this, Lucius had stopped shaking and was now slumped against Donovan, the kitten curled up in his arms. Both of them were asleep.

Donovan allowed it, supporting Lucius’s body with his left arm. With his other hand, he touched the boy’s lips, which were smiling as if he knew a marvelous secret.

And, perhaps, Donovan thought, he did.