#Clyde's nickname was/is bugs because he's really facinated by them

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

Clyde and Mason Miserable

Tw: angst, stalker mention, comforted by whumper

[Masterlist]

Clyde heard the door open and bolted down the hall. His socks slid on the floor and he had to grab onto the corner of the wall to keep from falling over. Home? Was he home? Did Master find him? He was home, right?

It was Neal.

“Neal, thank god you’re here. I don’t-”

“M-Master? Did, did you….”

Mason turned and felt his heart fall. Clyde looked so heartbroken, eyes still red and jaw shaking. Poor thing was glancing back and forth from the man to the door, as if manifesting it open by pure will.

“No Clyde. Neal’s just here to help out for a bit.”

Clyde tried to swallow, tried to keep it together but failed completely. A sob broke out and he stumbled backwards, steadying himself on a wall. He had hoped so bad it was Rudy, that he was back, that he was there where he belonged but it wasn’t. The other boy was still missing and that fact destroyed Clyde everytime it crossed his mind.

“Bugs...” Mason said, walking over to him. Clyde fell into his arms, the old nickname just making him cry harder. “I know, I know you want him back. Fuck, I want him here, too. The police are looking, okay? They’re gonna find him. They’re gonna bring him back.”

He believed him, he would always believe his Master but that didn’t make the sharp pains in his chest go away. Clyde wrapped his arms around the man’s shoulders as tight as he could and cried into his neck. He might have overheard Mason quietly relay a message to Neal, but he didn’t have the state of mind to parse the words.

It had been such a long time that the other boy was there, with them. He was supposed to be there. Some part of his brain told him that there was nothing he could have done, but Clyde still felt like he was responsible for the younger pet. It was his job to keep an eye out for him most of the time. During the long days at home waiting for Master to come back it was his job to keep Rudy distracted, keep him calm if he panicked.

Mason wrapped Clyde’s legs around his waist to pick him up and bring him over to the couch. Eventually he just got too tired to continue crying, but he couldn’t bring himself to let go of Master’s shirt. What if he disappeared too? What if the moment that Clyde let go he would also be snatched away? Then Clyde would be so, so alone.

“I can’t fucking believe this,” Mason said to Neal softly, rubbing circles onto his pet’s back. He took a deep breath and let it go, not wanting to cry in front of the boy. He needed him right now, needed to see him strong. But god, it was so hard. His thoughts were racing. Mason knew the pet industry inside and out. Knew the process, knew the methods - knew about the other side. Not all people were good people, and people that stole someone else’s pet was damned sure not to be a good person. He didn’t want to believe it, he fought against it, but Mason knew the darkness in some pet owners.

What was happening to him? He tried to convince himself of the best realistic option - pet traders? Holding Rudy until they could sell him under the table to another collector? The boy was cute enough, loveable, well behaved. He would fetch a good price, which means they would have to house him well - right? Mason told himself that he believed it. That the police would find Rudy scared and tired but safe and minimally taken care of.

But that wasn’t the picture that kept coming into his head. No, all he could think of were small cages and chains and the pictures of horrible banned muzzles he had seen. Rudy was far too delicate for those devices. The poor thing wasn’t accustomed to being struck or chained up. The thought of Rudy coming back with bruises on his wrists and face made Mason want to throw up.

He pressed his face into Clyde’s hair.

“God, I just want them to find him. I want him to be home. Who the fuck would even do this?”

“I am here to help with absolutely anything you need. I already ordered food and don’t even think of trying to pay me back,” Neal said, face laced with concern. Mason smiled tiredly.

“Thanks.”

Neal bit his lip, obviously thinking of something else.

“What? What is it?”

“You said you didn’t know who would do this-”

“What the fuck do you mean,” Mason interrupted, hugging Clyde closer, “Of course I don’t know…” Mason took a deep breath, trying to relax. He let his head fall back and swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry. I snapped at you and, fuck, sorry.”

The other man waved it away, understanding. “I get it. I was just thinking - you know that weird guy commenting on your stuff? On your stuff about Rudy?”

Mason sat up straight, head snapping to attention. No, there was no way. He grabbed for his phone, nearly knocking Clyde off his lap.

“C-comments about Rudy?” the pet asked, raising his head again. Mason shushed him quickly.

“Not now, Clyde. Shh.”

The boy shrunk back, retreating back to the place, the role, where he was obedient and safe. Mason flicked through his phone, looking at his most recent post that had been auto-scheduled for today.

No comment from the creep.

And that creep always made some sort of comment, always had a jab or a promise or something - especially now that Rudy wasn’t being shown at all. He sat back, scrolling and scrolling, searching for that stupid username.

Nothing.

He sat back, staring at Neal. “It was them.”

Neal shook his head wistfully, “Fucking creep. Can you tell the cops? That would help, right? They can like, do things with that?”

Mason tapped Clyde, getting him off his lap. He stood, calling the officer he met two days ago. “I don’t know, but I’m sure as hell going to tell them.”

~~

With a lack of any concrete things to do in this situation, they ended up just putting on a show. Episode after episode autoplayed, none of the people in the room able to repeat anything about the plot. Food came and they ate, Clyde with a little prompting but he did eat. Neal brought a bag to stay the night, which Mason was grateful for.

Clyde however, didn’t want to go upstairs. He lingered by the door.

“Master, can… can I stay down here? Just in case he comes home?” His voice was rough and tired. Mason sighed.

“No Clyde. Go upstairs.”

Biting his lip, Clyde conceded. Mason started up the stairs and paused once he noticed the boy wasn’t following. With a glance, he saw Clyde’s head turned to the door yet again, staring through the hard wood. He clicked once and the boy took a step forward without looking away, foot awkwardly kicking the stair. Mason sighed again.

He couldn’t even fault him.

“Come on,” he tried again, going over to the pet and guiding him by the shoulders upstairs.

Clyde went obediently until they got to their bedroom. He whined and pushed back, unwilling to go inside. He couldn’t, he just couldn’t stand to see Rudy’s bed empty and his side of the room clean. It was wrong. It was horrible.

Mason had to swallow thickly, inherently understanding the boy’s reluctance. He wouldn’t want to stay in there either.

And even if Clyde had, Mason wanted him close right now to stave off the fear that he would disappear, too.

“Okay, shh shh shh it’s okay. Come here - you’ll stay with me tonight.”

Clyde nodded quickly and took a hitched breath. “Thank you, Master.”

When they got to Mason’s room Clyde practically fell onto the bed and curled into the pillows. Mason hesitated, but decided not to make him change into sleeping clothes. The clothes he got for him - them, were soft enough to sleep in. He had gotten the clothes for them and Rudy was not gone.

Eventually, Mason shut off the light and climbed into the bed with him. Clyde rolled over immediately, grabbing onto Mason and pulling him close. The boy seemed too tired to cry anymore, butting his head into Mason’s chest and trying to hide there.

There, in the darkness with his remaining pet, Mason let himself cry.

~

Tagging @whumpingredroses @suspicious-whumping-egg @as-a-matter-of-whump @albino-whumpee