#culkin

You laid on your dog bed, frustrated and absolutely miserable. You told yourself you didn't miss it-- miss your bed, miss your friends, miss the wonders of modern medicine. You had to earn their trust, so you couldn't miss it. Besides, he'd shown you more love than you'd ever received at home-- no. Your parents' house. Not home.

A shrill whistle brought you back to the present. Wincing, you picked you head up. Epsilon strolled over the filthy couch, an apple in his hand, then nodded at you once he sat down.

"Hey, pup," he taunted. "You've got an appointment."

"What?" You squinted.

"Said, 'you've got an appointment.'" He pointed upwards. "Up there."

"With Kappa?" You asked, sitting up. Your nose was red from being smashed against the dog bed.

"No, with God himself," he huffed, spewing little flecks of apple with every word. "Just go."

You pulled yourself to your feet using the worn coffee table as a crutch. In any other situation, you would have avoided it like the plague. During one of your very first nights with the cult, while you were trying to sleep in the dog bed, you'd overheard (a kind understatement) Kappa and Theta engage in a rather private act, just out in the open. It wasn't something you believed you could ever unhear.

Stumbling towards the front of the barn was a humbling experience. The little bean-shaped blur in your vision made navigating the cluttered barn a real struggle. You stopped once you reached the rickety ladder, grabbing onto the rail and hanging your head.

"Kappa?" You called out, closing your eyes.

"Up!" He returned.

You couldn't help the whine you let out. Why couldn't he come down? You were hurting. You felt weak, tired, ready to curl up in your stupid bed and just sleep. Kappa's ears perked up when he heard the whine. You'd so willingly done anything and everything he and the others had suggested up to this point, and you were getting ready to graduate from the dog bed and move up to a shitty mattress. He stepped over to the ledge, peering down at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Why'd you whine?" He demanded.

"I-- I'm sorry," you mumbled, gripping the siderail of the ladder and starting to climb. "Didn't mean it."

"Ah-ah!" Kappa's tut stopped you mid-step. "I didn't ask if you meant it. I asked why you whined."

"I'm just hurting, is all," you admitted.

"Hurting, huh?" Kappa's brow softened. "What hurts? Here, come up." He waved a hand, indicating you to keep coming.

"My head," you replied, slowly ascending. "It really hurts."

"C'mon; there you go..." Kappa nodded appraisingly. He reached out for your hand once you were high enough for him to reach. You let him pull you up, not anticipating him to tug so hard. When you collapsed onto the rug, he chuckled. "Aww, no..."

"Just gimme a minute," you muttered. "Need a minute."

"No; no minutes," he said with a smile, gently nudging you with his boot. "Get up, now. We're gonna have a talk."

"Kappa--"

"Up." The kindness, however condescending, was gone. He grabbed your wrist and began to drag you over to his mattress. He didn't even give you a chance to get up. He just dumped you half off the side of the mattress and laid down next to you. "Get up here properly."

"Kappa, please, I really need a minute." The urgency in your voice caught him off guard. "Please. Okay?"

"What's wrong with you, huh? Your head can't hurt that bad," he scoffed.

"It does," you insisted. "I think it's a migraine. There's a weird, like, smudge in my eyes, and I just want to tear my head off. It hurts, Kappa..."

He let out a quiet coo and draped an arm over you, hauling you the rest of the way onto the mattress. He manhandled you to face him, frowning softly.

"You look pretty rough," Kappa concurred, wiping the hair away from your forehead with a grimy, yet soft, touch. "Where are you at in your cycle? If it is a migraine, it could be hormonal."

"I just got off my period last week."

He hummed and nodded. "Well, it's not that. You eating okay?"

"I eat whatever you feed me."

"And you do very good," he praised, stroking your hair. "You eat so good. Are you stressed?"

You hesitated. "Mmm..."

He deadpanned at you, somehow in a patronizing way. "Be honest, now. Are you stressed out?"

"I-- yeah, I guess," you croaked. "This is still kind of an adjustment."

"Aw, I know it is, pup." There was that stupid name again. The one that came with the stupid dog bed. "But you were doing so well..."

Were? Were? No; you had been great the whole time, and in that moment, too. You'd done what you were told. You'd listened to all the rants. You'd lived in the filth, and bathed in the river, and smoked the pot, and been so goddamn good.

"I'm still good," you asserted. "I'm just... down."

"That's a good way to put it, I think," Kappa mused. "But you've stressed yourself out so bad you got yourself a mirgraine, huh?"

You nodded weakly, just glad to be laying on a mattress again with your head on a pillow. No matter how gross and... used they were.

"Can't even talk, hmm?" He taunted.

"I'm tired..." you whined. "And it hurts..."

"Poor baby..." He rolled away and stood up, sauntering over to the jumbled pile of stuff in the corner. "You want some pot? Might help."

That foul-smelling shit was the last thing you wanted right now. Besides, the smell tended to give you a headache. You didn't want to risk making your migraine worse.

"Uh uh."

He tsked scornfully, tossing a dime bag aside. Instead, he grabbed one of the blankets in the mess and crouched down beside you. "If that's what you want," he said in a tone that suggested you should change your mind. "But okay. Let's get you all tucked in, hmm?"

The blanket reeked of sweat and weed, but it was so warm and soft. He tugged it up to the nape of your neck, then climbed back over you to his previous spot on the mattress.

"There you go, Pup..." He smiled warmly, petting your hair with a tender touch. "You just lay there and rest, okay? Kappa's going to take care of you."

"Can... can you please not call me that anymore?" Your voice came out entirely too small and pathetic.

"Aww, you don't like that?" He teased, sliding his arm down so he could pull you close. His shirt smelled six times worse than the blanket. "Puppy hates being the little bitch, huh?"

"I-- I don't; no..." You stammered. You couldn't decide if his words were hot, or if they came with a knuckle sandwich on the side. Maybe if you were in a higher functioning state, you would have clocked him.

"Mm, well, I've been talking with the others about you," he mumbled close to your ear. "We think you're ready for a big girl bed."

"Big girl bed?" Your brow furrowed. You could feel the pulsing pain even more clearly now, and you quickly relaxed.

"Yeah; a big girl bed. A mattress." Kappa nodded, fully aware that you couldn't see it through your closed eyes. "You're so good for us, and we think you deserve a little reward."

"Reward? So it could be taken away?"

He laughed quietly. "Well, we don't plan on it right now. It would replace your little dog bed, but if you... I don't know, seriously fucked up somehow, then maybe we'd take it away."

You let out a weak little whine of acknowledgement. Now that you'd established that you were well-behaved and could get a normal bed, you didn't care to continue the conversation. It was now, effectively, nap time, and he was impeding on it.

"Too down to even talk, huh?" He smiled. "That's okay. Baby needs her sleep."

Well, it was still slightly demeaning. But being the baby was better than being the dog. He wasn't entirely wrong, either. You were the youngest of the clan, so you were the baby of the family.

"We'll talk more about your big girl bed tomorrow, if you feel better," he offered in a voice more genuine than you anticipated. "But I don't want to stress you out even more if you're feelin' this shitty already."

"Talk about what?" You croaked. "Just so I can prepare myself."

"We're thinking about letting you come out with us, on a mission. But that's all you get to know tonight." Kappa traced his thumb down the soft ridge of your nose, the gesture almost tender. "If you're so well-behaved, then you'll sleep now. Because Baby listens so well, and she's being told to sleep."

You turned your face further against his chest, ignoring the godawful stench emanating from his shirt. He took his hand away from your face and planted it on the back of your head, holding you close.

"There you go," he whispered. "Just rest now."