Keep it Steddie

“You sure? I can stay with you until Joyce or Jane gets here.”

Steve shakes his head. “It’s okay, Joyce should be here any minute now. Go home and tell Vickie I’m totally gonna beat her at Mario Kart this Saturday.”

Robin lets out an amused laugh. “I really doubt that, but fine,” she says. “See you tomorrow.”

“Your lack of faith in my abilities wounds me!” Steve shouts as his friend leaves, but the only answer he gets is another laugh. “Traitor,” he murmurs to the now empty office, no venom in his voice at all.

Steve hears the front door closing with a noisy swish and then there’s only silence.

Another sigh escapes Steve’s lips as his eyes once again land on the mountain of files taking over his desk. He and Joyce really need to hire that new vet to help them out, the clinic is getting too big for just the two of them to handle it by themselves.

Resigned to his fate, Steve works a bit more for a while. With no one around, it’s easy for him to get lost in his tasks. He finishes up with the patient files from that day, then sets aside a couple of cases he really needs to talk about with Joyce to get a second opinion.

A little before eight, Steve turns off his computer and crosses the clinic towards the cat ward, to finally take a last look at Zoro. He’s finishing rewrapping the black cat’s hind leg when he hears heavy knocking coming from the lobby.

Zoro meows, looking at Steve with big green eyes.

“That’s not Joyce,” Steve says to the cat, who meows in agreement. Joyce, like Jane, has a key; she’d just let herself in.

The knocking persists, and Steve quickly tapes the wrap on Zoro’s hind leg before putting him back in his cage and exiting the cat ward to find out what the fuss is all about.

Through the glass door, Steve spots a man. His long curly hair is a wild mess, dark eyes so round and wide as he slams his fist against the door in distress. He relaxes when he catches sight of Steve, but not much; the distressed knocks cease, replaced by franticly waving hands asking for Steve to come closer.

Steve hardly turns down anyone who comes knocking on his door, no matter how late or how busy he is. But when they are clearly that distraught? There’s no way in hell Steve is going to ignore such a call for help.

In a few quick strides, he crosses the lobby and unlocks the front door, pushing it open without hesitation.

“Hi, how can I help—”

“Something’s wrong with Theodore,” the man simply blurts out; no introductions, no greetings, just a shaking hand grabbing Steve’s forearm and eyes getting wider than it should be humanly possible. “He was fine yesterday, but then he didn’t show up tonight for his treat and when I went out to look for him I found him passed out next to my trailer. Please you gotta help him, I think someone poisoned him.”

“Okay, okay, I’m gonna help him.” The hold on his arm eases, and Steve takes the opportunity to rest his hands on the man’s shoulders to catch his attention. “I’m gonna help him,” he reaffirms. “But you gotta breathe, man. Can you do that?”

The man nods, taking a deep breath.

“Good. Now, my name is Steve, and I promise I’ll do what I can to help you.

“I’m Eddie. Thanks for helping me out.”

“Of course. Where is Theodore?”

“My car. He’s in my car.”

“Alright, then let’s get him, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.”

There’s a battered van parked very close to the front door, and Eddie makes his way towards it as soon as Steve steps outside.

“You said he was poisoned?” the vet asks, as he watches the man open the passenger door and take a yellow transport box out.

“I guess so. He was passed out, but I checked and he’s breathing.”

“Okay, let me take a look.”

And, you see, Steve’s seen his fair share of weird cases in his eight years in this job. Some funnily weird, some weird weird, so it’s safe to say that by now very little things surprise him.

However, as used to the job as Steve is right now, he admits that he was not expecting to find a passed-out raccoon in the yellow transport box.

“It’s a raccoon,” he says dumbly, blinking a few times to make sure his mind is not playing tricks on him.

It’s not. The raccoon, Theodore, is still very much there.

“Can you help him?”

Technically, yes. Steve can probably help him.

But it’s a raccoon.

Not a cat. Not a dog. And honest to God raccoon.