WIP Wednesday
Tagged by: absolutely no one because I haven't been on social media a lot lately and I haven't written a word in weeks and no one remembers that I write fic (and also I don't write 911 fic anymore so I get completely forgotten about, especially when my most written characters lately are Mouse and Noah - little guys who left the show 6 years ago and only got two episodes of screen time respectively (this is not me being passive aggressive in any way, it's just a fact that CPD is not at the same level of popularity as 911)), but it's Wednesday here still and I need to keep my mind off the fact that I can't currently afford to be alive!!!
Anyway, in case anyone wanted to be sad(der) about my November 14th headcanons, it's also Noah's birthday. To me. Because canon isn't going to tell me otherwise.
-
The screen of the phone only dimmed for a second before the gentle tap lit it up again. In the quiet of the bedroom, there was no one but the dog pressed into his side to even know he was still awake. In fact, Noah had told the only other two occupants of the apartment that he was going to bed more than an hour earlier, and it hadn't been long after that when he heard the other bedroom door shut down the hall.
That was fine, as was the pitbull that let out a yawn at his side.
Having Ranger as company every night was one of his favorite things about living there with them. It meant he wasn't alone when the nightmares struck in the middle of the night. It meant he was well guarded on the rare nights when he was there alone. It also meant he had a solid presence to grin down at when the 23:59 on his screen turned to 00:00.
He knew that dogs didn't understand things like birthdays, couldn't tell one day from another, didn't even know what days were, but that was far from the point. Even the slightest bit of attention made the grey head lift to look up at him, sleepy but curious, anticipating treats based on what usually happened in the middle of the night. When there was nothing more than the mild attention after a few moments, he let out a familiar sound, half growl and half whine - pittie talking, Mouse had called it fondly the first time it had startled Noah that first weekend there.
"I know you're just complaining about being kept up past your bedtime, but I'm going to pretend you're telling me happy birthday." This time, when the screen dimmed, he didn't tap it again, instead letting it go dark and leave the room to be lit only by streetlights through the window. "I think you're the only one here who actually knows my birthday, now. Don't let that secret get out, okay? The last thing we need is someone trying to do something for me just because I made it to 20."
The whining had been a complaint, of course, but even annoyance didn't change Ranger's behaviors. With a gentle lick to the blankets approximately where he'd been using Noah's knee as a pillow, he put his head back down and let out another low, more comfortable whine.