Chris woke up again, this time laying on a couch with someone gently dabbing at his forehead with a warm, damp towel. "It was probably too soon for you to get up and walk about. You had quite the crash last night." The now familiar voice of his canine savior reached his ears as he looked over to see him seated next to him, expressive canine face tinged with a mix of humor and worry.
It was easier for Chris not to freak out this time, but it was still more than a little disconcerting. He decided to try to sit up and instead of pushing him back down, the dog guy reached out to help support him. He was surprisingly strong, which was a good thing as Chris needed more help than he thought. "Thanks." He said wearily as he leaned back with a wince.
"You got out lucky, a few bruised ribs, probably. Otherwise you seem fine." Dog guy set aside the damp towel and stood up.
"You drag people out of their crashed cars often?" Chris decided to try to joke, he didn't know how else to deal with this situation.
"More than you'd think." He replied with a wolfish grin and a wink. "I'm an EMT, saw you slide into that ditch while I was driving home after getting off shift. You were right in front of my home, too. Lucky you." He disappeared into the kitchen, where the sound of him rummaging in cupboards drifted back to Chris' ears. "So, are you just passing through or are you visiting our cozy little town?"
"Coming home for the holiday, actually." Chris said as he prodded his side with a wince. "I'm from here. I'm Chris by the way."
"White?" Came eagerly from the kitchen. "Chris White? I thought you looked familiar!" Dog guy stepped out with a cup of hot tea that he brought over and foisted into Chris' hands. Chris meanwhile could only stare at the canine. He didn't know any dog guys the last he knew of. He didn't even know that was a thing. "Man, it's been what? Eight years?"
He must of caught Chris' confused expression as he cleared his throat. "Oh man, you probably don't remember me, we didn't hang out much in high school. It's me, Mason Finley."
Chris almost spat out the sip of tea he had taken. Mason?! He remembered Mason alright. Best athlete in the school, thick black hair and bright blue eyes and a butt that.. well.. Mason had been Chris' first crush. Not that he ever acted on it. Mason was always with one cheerleader or another. He never dated anyone for long, but he never was single for long either. Such was the fate of the most popular guy in his high school.
There were two shocks for Chris. One, that Mason was somehow some sort of dog, and two that Mason remembered him of all people. He didn't even think he had ever been on the jock's radar. Nor did Mason seem to suffer from peaked in high school syndrome many small town jocks do. He still looked fit, it was hard to tell with the clothing and the fur, but he definitely looked to be in shape if his broad chest and thick arms said anything.
"You look good, man." Mason said cheerily, clapping him on the shoulder, though gently so as not to injure him further.
"Lies. I probably look like shit." Chris retorted and Mason just laughed. "Well, the plows should be through soon. I can drive you up to your folks place and we can worry about digging your car out of the ditch later. They live up on Red Pine Lane, don't they?" Chris could only nod as Mason correctly asked where his parents lived.
"You... look different." Chris ventured, trying to piece together the odd mystery of Mason's canine appearance.
"Really?" Mason asked curiously as he headed back towards the kitchen. "Only real change from high school is I stopped clipping my fur short. Yeah, shows off the muscles better, but it was murder on my undercoat, decided the natural look and the long drying times were better for me in the end. I don't look too scruffy, do I?" He asked.
"No, uh, not at all." Chris murmured as he stood up to explore the room. "You look good." Surprisingly, Chris found he meant it. Amazingly, he felt he wouldn't have too many qualms picking up his crush where it left off. "Bet you have to beat off the ladies with a stick."
"You'd be surprised." Mason replied.
Chris' phone vibrated in his pocket almost making him jump. "Oh crap!"
"Everything alright?" Mason's canine countenance appeared in the doorway.
"Forgot I was supposed to get home last night, my mother must be frantic." He dug his phone out of his pocket to be met with a screen full of missed calls and texts. He quickly called home, for his mother to answer in a near panic.
"Sorry, mom! Yes.. I'm fine." He flopped back on the couch. "I'll explain when I get there, I'm with.. Mason. The snow... yeah." His mother was speaking to fast to really catch everything, her words blending together, a sure sign she had been in a panic. "Mom. Mom. Mom!" He snapped a little. "He said he'd drop me off later. Don't worry, I'll be home before you know it. Love you, too."
Chris sighed and hung up his phone, only to have Mason shove a steaming bowl of oatmeal into his hands. "Here, you need to eat something. Sorry, never been much of a cook." He grinned sheepishly and shrugged. "Then we'll get you home."
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The drive through town was mostly what Chris had expected coming home. A lot of familiar, a little bit of new. The streets were as he remembered them, and many of the old store fronts and eateries too. Though there were some new businesses, like a cafe that had opened up next to the old hardware store. What Chris didn't expect was the lack of people. Well.. human people.
There were plenty of individuals out and about, but like Mason they were all.. animals. It was surreal, and for a moment he had to turn on his phone's camera to make sure he was still himself. And he was. Human as ever, with his messy mousy brown hair, dark brown eyes, and in desperate need of a shave, but human. He had to tear away from a literally bearish man speaking with a slender feline woman outside the diner to look at Mason.
"So.. how did you end up with the old Bucknell house?" Chris hadn't realized where they were until he stepped outside, but the facade of the old manor was unmistakable to anyone who grew up in the area. Legend of it being haunted, and old widow Bucknell being a witch who ate kids. The usual things idiot children come up with.
"I bought it after Mrs. Bucknell passed away, her daughter didn't want it so I got it at a steal. Thought, you know, maybe I'll open a bed and breakfast there, town could use one." Mason kept his eyes on the road as he drove down Main Street, occasionally waving at passerbys.
"I thought you said you were a bad cook?" Chris asked with a small laugh, as Mason turned onto the street more familiar to Chris than any in town. He could already see the faded blue siding of his childhood home ahead.
"Yeah, didn't think that part through. Maybe I can hire someone, or.. well.. I'll figure it out." For a moment Mason turned to look at him with a smile. "I seem to remember you're not half bad at baking. Didn't you want to open a bakery at one point?"
Chris found himself blushing. Mason remembered that? Sure, that had been his dream at one point, then college and adult life happened. "Yeah, but, you know. Life and bills.." Mason just nodded as the pulled up in front of his house.
Almost immediately a short and plump fox came bustling out the door, gray hair pulled up into a bun, descending on Chris in a flurry as he got out of Mason's truck. She began to prod and run her hands over him, checking him carefully as only one person could. "Mom.." He started, not knowing what to think of his own mother as a.. fox. She narrowed his eyes as she looked up at him then swatted him on the shoulder.
"Don't you 'mom' me! You had me and your father worried sick!" If Chris knew anything about his father he probably grunted a few times and went back to watching TV, maybe saying something like, "The boy can take care of himself." Leaning in the doorway was a taller more slender fox, male with a shock of blue hair.
"Hey, Jake." Chris ventured a guess at the individual, getting a wave from his younger brother in return.
Mason simply looked on with a half-smile, one that faltered a little as Carol White came bustling around the truck. "Thank you for looking after my son, you've always been such a dear." Chris felt himself cringing. "Why don't you come in for a bit?"
"I'd love to, but I should probably let you guys catch up." Mason begged off.
"Well, then come by tonight, for dinner. I know you must get lonely up in that old house. We still owe you for helping Frank put up the new gutters." Chris new Mason wasn't going to get away without agreeing to something, not now that his mother hand her hands.. paws on him. Though for some reason she was looking Chris' way with a sly smile that made him shiver.
Chris just grabbed his luggage out of the truck and with a wave to Mason who was still besieged by Mrs White, with a, "See you tonight," Chris headed into the house after Jake.
"Look who finally showed up, pop." Jake called out. Seated in Frank White's usual spot in front of the TV, sipping away at a cup of coffee was a large antlered.. deer? Not a white tail, more like.. reindeer? How festive. Chris thought sarcastically to himself. He turned his head just enough to see Chris and grunted.
"Knew you were fine." He said before going back to his coffee and TV.
"Love you, too, pop." Chris said as he set his luggage by the stairs, his side beginning to twinge. He'd carry it up to his old room later. He walked into the living room and plopped down on the couch near his father, who reached out and squeezed Chris' shoulder. His equivalent of a hug. Chris was used to his father's rather muted displays of affection, and welcomed them more than his mother's suffocating ones. Despite their strange looks, they were acting completely like themselves. True, he hadn't been home in four years, and it had been two since they had come to visit him in the city, but he'd have remembered them being.. whatever they were.
His old home was pretty much as he remembered it, though.. the ceilings and doorframes seemed a little higher, then with a look to the rack of antlers on his fathers head it clicked into place. Right..
For a moment, he tried not to think of the oddities, to just soak in the comfort of being home and away from his jobless, single life back home. It was hard though, when even everyone on the TV was an animal of some sort. Was he the only human left? And if so.. why did everyone act like he looked normal, too?