Being a Hero

Chapter 3

The song for this chapter is "More" by Seventh Day Slumber. ;)

"Kindness is a language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see." –Mark Twain

*Caitlyn's POV*

"Think I'll be able to get off for a week next month?" Shannon asked while examining a slide under the microscope. She was finishing up with the last of our labwork, I was sweeping, and Dashi was cleaning a kennel for a patient that had just gone home. After this we just had to check the inpatients; then we could close up for the evening.

"Next month? That's not a lot of notice," I pointed out, frowning and glancing at her from where I worked the dustpan. "Where you going?"

She moved the slide before continuing, "My mom wants me to visit her. I think she's still trying to convince me to move back out to the country." Turning away from the microscope finally, she leaned back against the counter. "The latest Grounder/Boreas thing spooked her."

"Her? It spooked everyone." Dashi asked, pulling his head out of the kennel. "We're lucky none of us were downtown last weekend."

"I wish they'd all just go somewhere else. Ever since they started turning up, there's constantly some power-related disaster or other on the news." I felt particularly small when she added, "My aunt lost her shop 2 years back when the heroes picked a fight with Grounder. Maybe this new bill's the way to go; maybe it's not. But something needs to be done."

The receptionist opened the door to the front, interrupting us before I could say something I'd likely regret. "Baxter Bedford's on his way in; he ate a king-sized chocolate bar ten minutes ago."

There was a collective groan; then we set to preparing supplies. So much for getting off work on time.

45 minutes later I was sprinting down the block in my scrubs. "No, wait!" I shouted and waved. The bus pulled away from the stop just as I crossed the street behind it. "Shoot!" I hissed under my breath. The next bus wouldn't be here for another half hour. By then I'd have to cancel my trip altogether. I mentally cursed our client who left chocolate out for their dog to get into right before closing time. The stubborn corgi had refused to throw up with peroxide, and we'd had to pour activated charcoal down his throat. Then there was the mess when half his vomit missed the trash can. I didn't know if I'd ever be able to get the black out of my sneakers.

My anger at the client fizzled out quickly. Stuff happened; animals did dumb things. I didn't have the energy to stay angry for long anyways. Hell, this wasn't the first time I'd been stuck at work. I should be glad I got out of there before 7 pm this time, I reminded myself. It could have been worse.

I made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a growl as I watched the bus turn a corner two blocks down. I guess I'm walking then, I decided. No way was I missing my opportunity to check in with Ethan and Trent's cat. I looked at my watch. If I move quickly I should still have time to ask how his humans are doing and make it to my class. I tried to visit with Boots—an adorable name for a tuxedo cat—once a week. I hadn't been in West Haven when the twins were on the team, but I'd heard plenty about them. And I knew the others still worried about them, despite their parting on not the best terms. I'd never asked what happened—it was a touchy subject with the older team members—but I knew they'd left after Ethan lost his leg.

I shifted my backpack and started fast-walking down the sidewalk. At least I had a spare pair of shoes at the clinic. My soggy and likely stained sneakers were safely sealed in a plastic bag for now, and I wore the old spares I kept for working with contagious cases like parvo. I'd worry about salvaging my other shoes when I got home; that wouldn't be for several hours yet.