Ant and Four 18 - Watch Over Me
by Winter

Three weeks after the market days, Ant decided that Niklas had earned the cost of his dragon. The boy grumbled a bit, but didn't put up much of a fight. Every day, whatever the two of them were doing, the toy lay in his jacket pocket. During breaks, or just lulls in work, he placed it in front of him, on the table. Ant loved to watch as he ran his fingers down the metal scales, or traced the sturdy wings. Or just stared at it, as if he had never owned something like it in his life. Which, Ant guessed, might very well be true.

After the first day of debt-free work, Niklas made wide eyes as Ant placed a small stack of coins next to his dinner plate. The usual flurry of emotions flashed across his face, but in the end he pocketed the money with a grin. They kept this up for a couple more days, until everything changed.

It was raining in the morning, so Ant ate his breakfast on the patio, which was covered by a pergola fitted with a see-through plastic roof. He liked watching as rivulets of rainwater made their way down to the drainpipe. This shift in routines was nothing new, and Niklas knew where to find him when he wasn't at his usual table out front. Still, when Ant downed the last of his pineapple juice, he was alone. They were meant to practice clockwork building, but as the morning turned to midday, Ant was getting concerned. Not worried, not yet. Every now and then, Niklas stayed away for a while. For what reason, Ant didn't ask. Much as he wanted to help, prying was not the way.

But when one more day passed, a gnawing feeling began to eat at Ant. Hoping that he wasn't about to ruin weeks' worth of progress, he returned his tools to his room, then set out to search the streets.

Up until then, he had stayed mostly around the commercial areas of Konigsbrucke, from the main square to the western city gates, but now he walked along less well-kept streets. Here, shops and businesses gave way to blocks of flats that looked to be in need of repairs. Niklas's mother lived around there, somewhere, but none of the people Ant asked wanted to talk to him. Most ignored him completely, while some glared hostilely. Any other time, Ant would have felt uneasy, but he was on a mission.

He was just about to give up and look someplace else, when a splash of bright red caught his eye, stark contrast to the drab grey and brown of houses and streets. The shirt of one of his stuffed wolfs. Ant remembered the girl who had smiled so happily when her mother bought the toy. She was sitting on a low wall surrounding a back yard, watching him curiously, and she gave him a tiny wave. Ant waved back.

"What are you doing here, Mr Toy Guy?" she asked, and Ant had to bite back a laugh. He could live with that monicker. The girl clutched the wolf tightly. "You... you're not gonna take her back, are you?"

"No, of course not. She's yours." Ant kept his distance, so he wouldn't scare her. "I'm looking for a boy, Niklas Ramirez. Do you know him?"

"Uh-huh," she nodded. "Why?"

"He works for me, and I haven't seen him in a while. I'm worried."

"He's..." The girl looked around, as if to make sure nobody was overhearing. When she spoke again, her voice was so quiet that Ant had to strain his ears to hear. "His mama, she throwed him out. Then she left, an' their room's got other people in it now."

"Where did he go?" She shrugged. "Where do kids go when they've got nowhere to stay?"

"River." That was as far as she got, before a surly man opened a window and told her to come inside. Before she dashed off, she whispered again. "At the river."

Doors opened on both sides of the street, but the people who came out looked away when Ant met their eyes. He knew that they were there to intimidate him and make him leave, but he didn't care. Nothing could scare him. Turning on his heel, he started walking back the way he had come. He knew that the river passed right through town, and that there were many kilometres of waterfront to search. When he reached the eastern town square, he started running.

* * * * * *

Ant's feet hurt, and his split lip stung when he couldn't stop himself licking it. He had gone through the poorer parts of town, checked under bridges, including the large and ornate one that gave the town its name. He looked behind dock buildings, and even searched the sluices that led to the inland parts of the river. None of the kids he met knew Niklas, or had seen him recently. The homeless adults had been even less inclined to talk, at least not until Ant took a punch from one of them without flinching. That seemed to earn him a modicum of respect, but they still couldn't help.

On his way back to the inn, hours after dark, Ant passed through a small park. Close by, he could hear a bunch of older kids talking and laughing, and that raised his hackles. Remembering Sia, the boy who beat him up in Wishing Well, Ant decided to give them a wide berth. But then again, if they knew Niklas...

He tip-toed closer. They had built a fire, and Ant could see that they were all teens. No small boys with long black hair. Reluctantly, he turned to leave, when he heard something else. Just at the edge of his hearing. It sounded like ragged breathing.

A half-minute later, he realised that he had been wrong, earlier. There were things that could scare him. Things like the sight of a tiny heap on the ground. Like strands of long black hair sticking out from underneath a too-large, dark blue jacket. And the smell of blood.

* * * * * *

Ant paced, unable to sit still. The nurses had given up trying to calm him down, and more or less left him alone. It had been hours since the doctor said that Niklas was out of surgery, and Ant couldn't understand why he wasn't allowed to see him. Nobody had been able to find Ms Ramirez. A couple of social workers had come and gone, but they refused to say anything to Ant. It was infuriating. Not a single person seemed to care, except for him, yet he was kept in the dark.

Eventually he worried himself out, and he fell asleep in an uncomfortable chair.

In his dream, it was Four who was in there. Beaten and broken. Bleeding and bleeding. And Ant was just a little pup, pounding his fists raw against the rad-shielded window. Unable to stop screaming, unable to stop watching his dearest friend die. Crying helplessly as, in the end, a foreman led him away. Wait, no, that was wrong! The foremen... that was before Four. That was... that was someone else in there. Little Ant pulled away, and ran back to the window. It opened, even though that shouldn't have been possible, and he slipped in.

The dying thing on the bed groaned, and whimpered. Raw ore radiation slammed through Ant, but he had to see. Had to know. He pulled the sheet down, and stared into his own hollow eye-sockets.

Ant woke up with a start, when someone touched his shoulder. A nurse jumped back, but quickly caught his stumble.

"Mr Ant?"

"S-sorry," Ant mumbled while he forced his mind to wake. "Bad dream."

"Mr Ant, you can come in now. He's awake."

"I... I can see him?"

"Of course." The nurse smiled. "We're sorry it took so long, but the papers hadn't been properly filed."

"Papers?" Ant stood up and followed the nurse through a door and down an sterile white corridor. "What papers?"

"Your guardianship papers, of course. You should have told us that you were Niklas's legal caregiver, that would have made things a lot easier."

Ant opened his mouth to protest, but instead he shook away the last remnants of sleep. Was he still dreaming? Caregiver? Deciding not to push his luck, he followed the nurse through another door, and there he was.

The bed almost swallowed his thin body, made even smaller by the absence of the otherwise ever-present jacket. Niklas's face was bruised and his upper left arm was in a cast, and Ant could see bandages dent the light-green hospital gown. But what struck him the hardest was the boy's eyes. They looked so immensely sad.

"Hey," Ant managed, his voice little more than a raspy croak. "How are you feeling?"

"I... I didn't think you was gonna come."

"I've been here all the time. They just... they had to make sure you'd be fine, before I could see you."

"Ant..." A tear ran down the boy's cheek, and almost immediately, more followed. "Ant, they... they took... they took the dragon."

Ant sat down on the edge of the bed, careful not to touch the battered body. He grabbed a tissue from the bedside table, and began to wipe away his little friend's tears. Niklas reached up with his good hand, and Ant took it in his. He never wanted to let go. Not ever! Whatever this caregiver business was all about, Ant made up his mind to run with it. As soon as Niklas was signed out, the two of them would go home to the inn. Together. After a little while, the tears abated, and the boy could talk without sobbing.

"The older kids," he explained, his voice thin. "They saw me with the dragon, and they took it from me. And they smashed it to bits. They didn't even want it, they just didn't want me to have it."

"I saw them," Ant growled. "They were laughing."

"I kicked the guy who took it, right in the... well, you know where."

"Good."

"Mr Ant!" the nurse interjected. "You should not condone violence."

"But the guy deserved it."

"That's neither here nor there." He pressed a stylus to the pad he was holding, and it beeped. "The doctor will be in to see you shortly."

"Ant," Niklas whispered. "Ant, they beat me real bad"

"I know."

"I couldn't... I couldn't stop them."

"I know. Something like that happened to me once. Luckily, I had a friend who saved me."

"The one you told me about?"

"Yeah. His name was Four." Ant reached over and brushed a tuft of hair out of the boy's face. "It's... it's good to have a friend. To not be alone. Niklas, I don't want you to be alone."

"My mom..."

"Nobody knows where she is."

"I should... I should be able to take care of myself."

"Maybe." Ant smirked. "How's it worked out so far?"

In the harangue that followed, were several curse words Ant had never heard before. He added them to his growing thesaurus. Once it ebbed out, the two of them kept talking, staying on safe topics like toys and hospital food, until the door opened and a young woman entered. She smiled at Niklas.

"How are you feeling now?"

"Better. Sore." He took his good hand out of Ant's, and touched his temple. "A bit dizzy."

"You've been given a painkiller, and some fairly strong antibiotics. Do you know what those are?" He shook his head slightly. "To help your body stop infections, and let you heal quicker. Mr Ant?"

"Doctor."

"Mr Ant, we're going to keep your ward for a couple of days. He doesn't appear to be concussed, but we want to make sure."

"Okay."

"After that, I want him to take it easy for a while. Definitely no more fighting."

"Don't worry," Ant said with a glance at the boy, who gave him a quizzical look. "I'll keep a better eye on him this time."

"That's good." She touched he pad, which beeped. "Niklas will probably fall asleep in a little while. I suggest you go home and change clothes."

"I will." Ant looked down at his shirt, which was still covered in dried blood. Niklas's blood. "I'll come back tomorrow morning."

"Good." She touched the boy's forehead gently. "Sleep well, son."

"Ward?" Niklas asked as soon as the door closed behind the doctor. He yawned. "What's that mean?"

"I'll let you know," Ant replied, "soon as I figure it out."

"But you will come back?"

"Absolutely. Anything you want me to bring?"

"Yellow beet pie?"

* * * * * *

Because of the medicines he had been given, Niklas couldn't yet sit up without feeling dizzy, so he ate the pie with his hands, lying flat on his back. Ant smiled as the bed filled up with crumbs. He had been nervous when he entered the hospital building, half expecting another struggle when he reached Niklas's corridor. But, they still seemed to consider him caregiver, and let him in. A shy smile greeted him, which turned into a grin when Ant opened the tin box that held a double-sized slice of beet pie. Mrs Brunner had been more than happy to grant the boy his wish.

"That was yummy."

"Better than your hospital breakfast?"

"It was pretty good, too. I got marmalade toast, an' oatmeal porridge with apples and some kinda spice." He turned to lie on his good side, so he could use his hands to hunt for pie crumbs. "So, what about that ward thing?"

"Well, I went to the rat house, and..." Ant's voice trailed off when Niklas started giggling. "What?"

"Rathaus, not rat house. It means town hall."

"That's what I said," Ant lied. "Anyway, I asked to get a copy of the, you know, guardianship papers. Turns out I applied to become your foster father six weeks ago."

"And... and you didn't?" A worried look crept onto Niklas's face. "You don't... want to."

"I didn't know it was possible. Besides, and don't tell anyone, I'm too young to even apply in the first place. You have to be an adult, and in human terms, that's eighteen."

"I don't know how old you are."

"Fifteen-and-three-fourths."

"You look older." The boy's eyes widened slightly. "A lot older. Like, twenty or something."

"How many wolfs have you met?" Ant gave a half-smile. "Guess it isn't easy to tell, since nobody's asked to see my passport."

"What happens if they do?"

"I'll show them the guardianship papers instead. I made them give me a copy." He tousled the boy's hair, and got a pout in return. "Don't worry, I'm good at talking my way out of trouble. I'm not gonna leave you behind. I did that once, and it cost me my best friend."

"That Four guy."

"Yeah." Ant tried his best to ignore the tug inside his chest. He sat down on the side of the bed so that their eyes could meet up close. "Do you want to stay with me, Niklas? I want you to, but it has to be your choice."

"I..." Niklas broke the connection, and looked down at his lap. "I want to. But why?"

"Why, what?"

"Why d'you wanna look after me?" Their gazes met again, and now there were tears brimming the boy's eyes. "I'm... I'm nobody."

"Not true."

"I was rude to you."

"You're not the first." Ant grinned. "And I don't get upset easily."

"Except for when my mom hit me."

"That was different. She shouldn't have done that."

"She's gone anyway, so it don't matter."

"It does matter." Ant took Niklas's good hand and held it. "I need you to know that I'll never do that. And I won't let anyone else hurt you, either."

"You d-don't have to..." Niklas was sobbing now, burying his face against Ant's side. "You don't even kn-know me..."

"I know you need someone to help you. I can, and I want to." They stayed still for a few minutes, while the boy calmed down. "Besides, it's already decided, even before you said yes."

"Huh?"

"Mrs B has made up the room next to mine. It's yours for as long as you want it."

"R-really?"

"Really and truly. Here, this is for you." Ant handed over the bag he had carried the pie tin in. Niklas made even wider eyes as he picked up one garment after another, a full set of brand new clothes. Including a pair of running shoes. Last was the over-sized jacket, freshly laundered. "Once you get out of here, we'll get you a couple more changes. Your old shoes were way too small, and the rest of your stuff got kind of ruined. I didn't think you'd want to wear that open-back thing when we go home."

"Home..." The boy picked up a red cotton t-shirt and ran his fingers over the soft fabric. Then his face hardened. "I don't want you spending money on me."

"In this case, you don't get a choice." Ant met those fiery green eyes. "Ground rules, Niklas."

"Wh-what?"

"First, I want you to thank Mrs B for washing your jacket. Second, don't run from me. When I get on your nerves and you need to be alone for a while, at least come back and sleep in your bed."

"That all?"

"No." Ant packed away the clothes, and let his smile soften. "Promise me we'll talk things out, no matter what's wrong."

"I..." Niklas looked down again, then sighed. "Okay..."

"I'm not going to take over your life. But we're in this together, so we work together."

"Okay."

"Whoever wrote those papers gave us a chance."

"What do they want in return?"

"I don't know." Ant stood, while the boy lay back down on the bed. "I won't let them mess with us, though. I'm your guardian now."

"You are, aren't you?" Niklas smiled. "I think... I think I'm gonna like that."

* * * * * *

The next night, Ant lay in his bed, his head too busy for sleep. Back in the days, he would have opened the Fourtitude's door and lowered the ramp, so he could sit on it and watch the stars. And think. Instead, he had to make do with watching the smallest of Ahkka's moons through his half-open window. Its round, full face shone just above the rooftops across the street, and soon it would disappear behind the oak's branches. But for the time being, it helped him focus.

Niklas had made it halfway back to the inn, before his bruised ribs became too much of a bother. He had flatly refused to get carried, but in the end he agreed to a piggy-back ride. Coming home had been an experience. Mrs Brunner had hugged the boy as tightly as he could stand, while he thanked her for the jacket, the pie and his new room. The old lady had tears in her eyes, and Ant was a little surprised to see that, so did Niklas. After a celebration dinner, the two boys sat at the oak table for a while, sewing button eyes onto to-be-stuffed animals.

Ant didn't know who yawned first, but it wasn't even fully dark when they gathered their things and headed upstairs. And now here he lay, unable to sleep, too scattered to think. Mind filled with emotions that didn't agree with one another. This was the beginning of a new life for him. His fourth. The first had been back in the Belt, growing up inside a dome habitat on a mining asteroid. Destined for a short and brutal life of slave labour. Then came travelling with the Morning Calm, which had been exciting and adventurous, but which had reinforced Ant's bad sides. Confrontation, anger, toeing and even crossing the line of what's legal and right.

His third life had been with Four. It had been fun, care-free, joyous. The ferry boy had awakened a whole new Ant. One who no longer felt the need to meet every challenge with harsh words and snarls and clenched fists. One who had found his centre, who could let go of all worries and just...

...live.

After Four, he had simply drifted. Existed in a way that couldn't really be described as living. And now, he was on the verge of a new life. Not just as Ant, but as Ant the guardian. The... father? He didn't know anything about being a father. Back in the Belt, he had barely even seen an adult male wolf. They were almost always taken away to work in non-pressurised mines, on smaller asteroids. The most strenuous and dangerous of jobs. Very few ever returned. His own father had left like that, before Ant was born, and had died soon after when a mine shaft collapsed.

For a brief moment, his mind's eye returned to that split-second in Lakeview, where he thought he had glimpsed gleaming white fangs set in an elongated muzzle. Every time he recalled that day, he became more certain that he had seen another wolf. A grown-up male, taller by far than the human pirates. Ant hid among the rubble that had once been a fountain, shivering with fear, but a small part of him wanted to call out. That was his kinsman over there. A pirate, though. Why? Why would a wolf side with people who hurt others? Why would someone who had known oppression and slavery want to cause more misery? With the same gang that had once nearly killed Ant.

So lost was he inside his head, that he almost missed the soft tap on the door between his room and the next. Niklas's room.

"Come in." The handle turned, and the door opened just a crack. In the moonlight, Ant could see a green eye peer in. "Can't sleep?"

"I did." It was no more than a whisper. "But I dreamed."

"Bad?" A nod. "Come here."

The door opened just enough for a slender body to worm its way through. Niklas was dressed in briefs and a t-shirt, and small feet barely made a sound on the soft carpet. Ant could smell the salt of tears. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, the boy stared at the floor. Then he sighed.

"I was out there again. Sleepin' in the park or under the bridge." He shivered. "An' you were gone."

"I'm very much here."

"I know that now. But when I woke up, I wasn't sure. I... I was afraid to..."

"Niklas, you can always come and see me. To talk or for company." Ant reached out and touched the boy's shoulder. "If I'm asleep, just wake me up. I promise I won't get mad, though I might not make sense for a little while."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a heavy sleeper." Ant caught the ghost of a smile. "Do you wanna stay?"

"Y-you mean like... spend the night?"

"Mhm. Like a sleepover." Definitely a grin this time. "You don't snore, do you?"

"Dunno." A faint giggle. "But it doesn't matter, 'cause you're a heavy sleeper."

"You learn fast."

"Don't roll over on me, though," Niklas said as he lay down and pulled Ant's blanket over himself until only the top of his head stuck out. "If you're that heavy, I might get squashed."

"Are you all right under there?" The mop of black hair stirred in a nod. "Good night."

"Night."

Niklas rolled to lie on the side of his good arm. Without thinking, Ant laid his own across him, protectively. A happy sigh came from underneath the blanket, and Niklas scooted closer, grabbing Ant's hand to wrap himself in a hug. Soon, his breathing evened out, and Ant could hear his heart slow down into deep sleep.

Despite being tired now, Ant lay awake for a long time. The small body in his arms was like nothing he had never felt before, but at the same time it was achingly familiar. His chest seemed to swell with care, and a new sense of belonging, yet...

While the moon moved on, and left him in near-darkness, silent tears rolled down Ant's cheeks.

* * * * * *

Birds woke Ant up, chirping outside the window. The angle of the sun and the slightly chilly air told him it was early. Earlier than he usually got up. Niklas was still far away in the land of dreams, looking more at peace than Ant had ever seen. Was that really his doing? The thought was baffling, that he could possibly make such difference so soon. He eased his way out of bed, careful not to rouse the sleeper, then he rummaged around his room until he found a stump of a pencil. On the back of a toy manual, he wrote a short message to say that he had gone downstairs. He put the note on the bedside table, then washed his face, brushed his teeth and got fully dressed.

"How is our little friend?" Mrs Brunner was already up, and seemed to be cooking breakfast for an army. Ant failed to snatch a slice of tomato out of her frying pan, and instead got his fingers swatted with a wooden spoon. "Serves you right, you naughty Anty."

"Niklas is okay, I think," he said, pouting as he cradled his poor hand. "He had some bad dreams, but he stayed with me, and then he slept better."

"That's good." She smiled one of her warmest smiles. "I will make sour cabbage toast for the two of you, but maybe you should go see your other friend first."

"Friend?" Ant's ears perked. "What other friend?"

"I didn't tell? Ach, this old head." She frowned. "The polite boy who was here the other day, that I told you about, no?"

"You didn't, Mrs B. It wasn't a disgruntled toy customer, was it?"

"No, just a handsome young man, who asked for Ant. You were at the hospital with poor Niklas, and he came back today."

"Where...?"

"In the back yard, I think. Mrs B says not to wake you up too early."

"Can breakfast wait until Niklas comes down?" She nodded. "Thanks, Mrs B."

Ant felt his heart speed up as he walked through the dining room, nodded distractedly to a couple of regulars having their morning coffee, and continued out onto the patio. Handsome young man? He tried his best to not get his hopes up, but it was difficult. It could be... No! Not Four. Four was dead. Wasn't he? Forgoing the steps, he jumped down to the lawn. This early in the morning, dew tickled his toes as he set out across the grass.

It was one of Ant's chores to mow the lawn, or rather, he had taken it upon himself. Since he wasn't allowed to help in the kitchen, or with cleaning the guest rooms, he needed something to do, to feel that he was contributing. In a shed filled with gardening tools, there was an electric mower that Mrs Brunner begrudgingly allowed him to use. Thus far Ant had resisted the temptation to take it apart, to see how it worked.

The inn had a sizable back yard for being in the business district, and it took Ant about an hour to mow and rake up the clippings, then trim the edges. There were a couple of trees, though none anywhere near the size of the oak out front, and several small flowerbeds. Even a greenhouse, where Mrs Brunner grew herbs and spices. By the playground, with its swings and slide and sandbox, Ant stopped and looked around. He could see no man, handsome or otherwise.

When it came, the voice was right behind him.

"Hello, Ant."