“Yeah. It was the hardest thing I’ve had to do, leaving him there.”
“That night, I found the house where he’d left the boy. He was hiding in a cupboard in a basement room. I would’ve never found him if I hadn’t been a shifter.”
“How long ago was this?” Derek asked, letting go of Cal’s hand to stroke Kit’s fur.
“Kit was around six then, so… twelve years. Something along those lines. I knew he was a fennec, even though all he was then was a scared, mute little boy. He was so traumatized….” Cal sighed and stared at the ceiling for a while, blinking back tears. “I named him Kit, because he couldn’t tell me what his name was. He had a lot of therapy. He doesn’t remember his childhood, other than glimpses here and there.”
“But the fennec was his dad?”
“Who even knows? Could’ve been, or just someone who wanted to make sure I’d go look. By the time I got him to Italy via Council’s private jet a couple of days later, he refused to let go of me. Someone came, a Council lackey, and tried to take him. I honest to God hissed at him. Or well, I guess the cat did but I was human right then.” Cal chuckled a bit.
“Did he speak English then?”
“Yeah, and some Spanish, too. There’s no way of knowing where he’s actually from and how he and the man ended up in Morocco. I mean, maybe they were headed to family, actual fennecs are from northern Africa.”
“Rarer shifters tend to hide where their animal counterparts are from,” Derek said quietly. It made sense, because that way seeing one of them in shifted form wasn’t automatically alarming. Not like seeing a Siberian tiger in a Finnish forest, for example.
“When they realized they couldn’t take him, they let me keep him. He couldn’t remember his name, but the man had called him Kit. So we kept that, because that’s what he was, a fox kit.” Cal smiled and watched as Derek stroked Kit’s forehead between those massive ears that laid flat right then.
“He looks vaguely Asian, but that’s all I can tell, really,” Derek murmured.
“Yeah, which was one of the things that tells absolutely nothing about his origins. His parents had to be fennecs, but that’s all I know. And I didn’t see the man in his human form so I don’t have a clue what he looked like.”
Somehow, Derek felt relieved Cal hadn’t actually seen the shifter die and change into human.
“Did Kit ever want to find where he was from?”
“Not really. Of course he knows I’ve put out feelers. But fennec shifters live in family groups, much like the actual animals, so they could’ve been just the parents and him, and… well….” Cal sighed again. These weren’t easy memories, that much was obvious. “The Council has always agreed to give us information if anyone comes to ask, but in twelve or so years, nobody has.”
Kit blinked a few times, then stretched his forepaws and leaned toward Cal to touch the tiny black nose to his cheek. Then he let out a tiny chatter.
Cal smiled. “Yeah, son. I know. We’re family now, nothing else matters.”
To Derek, it felt like an old conversation, an old reassurance that they were a family unit and nobody would take Kit away from Cal.
Kit turned then, and poked Derek’s cheek, too. The same chattering almost-purr sounded, and Derek couldn’t help but to smile. “Yeah, kiddo. I’m family too. Everything isn’t just magically sorted now that your dad’s back, but we’re off to a good start.”
He glanced at Cal over Kit, and saw the pained look in his eyes. Yeah, they both knew it wouldn’t be that simple, but this time, they wouldn’t give up, either.
Cal started to heal quicker, whether it was Noah’s miracle ointment, having his family closer, or something completely different that enhanced the process.
On the third day, he insisted on going outside, and they walked around the small yard together as a family.
“Mikael said we still need to paint the house, but that can be next spring if we don’t want to do it yet,” Kit said when they stopped to examine at the house from the edge of the yard.
“I can’t even tell what the old color was supposed to be. What do you guys suggest we do?” Derek tilted his head.
“It’s something pale, but it’s… not nice. I think we could paint it now. Have it look nice. Don’t they come put the new windows in next week?” Cal asked as they started back toward the house.
“Yeah, next Wednesday, I think.”
“I have my phone, if you want me to call Mikael and ask about the painting?” Kit asked eagerly.
Chuckling, Cal nodded. “Yeah, call him and ask him and whomever wants their say to come over and discuss it, maybe?”
“Okay!” Kit made the call, and within fifteen minutes—enough time for Cal to tire and go sit on the steps—Mikael, Noah, and Maxim arrived, followed by the teenagers.
“You guys didn’t have to drop everything for this,” Derek objected.
