PAY IT FORWARD

by Lindariel

Written as part of the Winterfest Online 2024 Plot Bunny Challenge
and published in the 2024 conzine

Plot Bunny: Mouse is torn over how to feel about the feral child from The Outsiders.
The child shot Vincent, and Mouse hates him for that.
But Mouse also remembers being alone, and hungry, and scared.

“No! Go away! No, no, No, NOOOOOoooo!”

Mouse jerked awake mid-scream, sweating, panting, and then suddenly leaned over the side of his bed to vomit into the bucket he always kept there just for this purpose. Exhausted, still sweating, he rinsed his mouth using the canteen of water on his bedside cabinet and fell back against his pillow, empty, wiped out.

Nightmare. Another stupid nightmare!

He never remembered them. They wrenched him from his restful sleep, leaving him shaking, weeping, with a vague memory of fear, dread, and pain, head pounding, often sick to his stomach afterward, like now, and always, always relieved that no one ever saw him like this.

Well, no one except Vincent. Long, long ago, when Vincent found him. Gave him food. Sat with him and talked to him until words began to make sense again. Soothed him when he woke from his nightmares, and helped him learn how to talk again, and always, always understood, and never, never made him speak about what haunted his sleep. Not until he was ready. And he never was. And to this day, Vincent understood.

Mouse never had words for his nightmares. He still doesn’t. Those names and shapes are lost. OK, good. OK, fine. Good riddance.

If only the nightmares would stop, too. They don’t.

But now, just now, Mouse wished there was someone who could be with him when the nightmares came. Someone who would understand, who wouldn’t pry. Someone who would just hold him and help him feel better.

Sometimes when they were especially bad, bad enough to make Mouse throw up, Mouse would go to Vincent. Vincent, who always understands.

But Mouse can’t do that right now. Vincent badly hurt yesterday. Shot by the wild boy who came with the Outsiders. The strange boy who never spoke. Only laughed and made odd noises. Snatched and threw things. Not good.

Yesterday evening, Mouse had plopped himself on the ground outside the hospital chamber for a long, long time while Father and Mary and Catherine tended to Vincent. He had heard them talking about what had happened. How the Outsiders had attacked Catherine and knocked away her gun. How Vincent had fought them all to the death because they wouldn’t stop. They just kept coming and coming. Determined to kill Vincent and hurt or maybe kill Catherine. And then, when the fight was finally over, how the boy had picked up Catherine’s gun and shot Vincent before dropping the gun and running away.

And Vincent – Vincent had said he was worried about that awful boy! Worried he might get lost in the Maze and starve to death, or fall into the Abyss, or be captured by Paracelsus and his people.

And Mouse hates that boy. Vincent could have died! Mouse HATES that boy!!  HATES!!!

Except.

Uumph! No, no, NOOO!! Don’t try to remember!

Right on cue, Mouse’s head started pounding, and he felt sick to his stomach again.

No. No! Think of something else. Anything!  Uh … New project! Yes, new project for the children’s playground. Skateboard! Kipper, Zach, and Geoffrey want one. Should be easy to make. Board, wheels from broken skates. Easy to find. Easy to take. Not steal.

Yes. Yes. Better now. Not so sick. Headache going away. Better not to try to think of before. Let it go. Never happened. Gone.

Mouse drank some more water and used his sleeve to wipe away the cooling sweat from his face.

Not hard to figure out why the nightmare came. So worried about Vincent. Father says Vincent will be OK good, OK fine, just needs rest. But Mouse still worried. Mouse owed Everything to Vincent.

Vincent gave Mouse this chamber. The place where Vincent first brought Mouse when he was little and starving and hiding in the Tunnels from …

No, NO! Don’t think about that again! Gone, all gone, nothing to remember! Safe, safe in Mouse’s chamber now.

Safe.

Back then, Vincent had said, when Mouse was ready, this chamber would be all Mouse’s. A safe place. Away from the Hub – but not too far. Vincent had brought Mouse food every day until Mouse was brave enough and had words enough to meet a few people. And then a few more. And then come eat with Vincent in the dining hall. Come every day. Come any time.

Because of Vincent, Mouse has a Home. And a Family. And ARTHUR! Vincent made sure Mouse could keep Arthur. Mouse owed Vincent EVERYTHING.

How? How to thank Vincent? This question had occupied Mouse’s thoughts for a VERY long time, especially after learning about gra-ti-tude and saying thank you.

Father talks about that a lot.

Mouse asked Vincent once. How to thank Vincent for Everything? But Vincent just said it was enough to have Mouse as a friend. That was a big thank you. Nice!

But inside, Mouse does not agree. NOT enough.

Not long ago, Mouse and Cullen had sentry duty together. Cullen had talked about how grateful he was to live Below, and how good everyone had been to him after he lost Betty to cancer and then lost his home because of the medical bills. Mouse had asked how to say thank you for such big things? How could Mouse say thank you to Vincent?

Cullen had looked a little sad and thought for a while, and then he had said something that Mouse still found both interesting and confusing. “My sweet Betty would always say that when you can’t thank someone for the big things, the best thing to do is to pay it forward. That means when you find someone who needs help, then do your best to help that person the way you were once helped. That way, you honor the person who helped you by helping someone else. And if enough people do that, the world becomes a better place.”

Huh. It sounded nice, but Mouse had never been able to figure out how to pay Vincent’s gift forward. How do you do something that BIG? And who for?

Idea!

Oh. OH! Really, really hard idea …

Mouse could pay Vincent’s gift forward by … helping the wild boy. The boy lost and confused and alone and hurting like Mouse long ago, before Vincent came. The boy Mouse HATES!!

Oh, oh, OH! Really, really, really HARD idea …

Because inside, it really felt like the right idea.

*** Next morning ***

At breakfast in the dining hall, Mouse was careful to sit close to the table where Cullen, Old Sam, Josh, James, and Kevin had gathered to talk about their grim duties the previous evening. Mouse had overheard Father asking them to “dispose of the Outsiders’ remains.”

So they knew where the fight had happened. Best place to start tracking the wild boy.

“Hi, Mouse!” Jamie plopped down in the seat across from Mouse at the table, setting down her breakfast tray and – Oh! – giving him one of her pretty smiles. “What are your plans for the day? Wanna go Up Top to scavenge for the parts you need for that skateboard project?”

Mouse’s eyes bulged a bit as he shook his head, placed a finger over his lips, pointed his thumb toward the table behind him, and then flicked at his left ear.

Jamie squinted her eyes and cocked her head to the side at this somewhat odd response from Mouse. Well, odder than usual. But then she straightened her head, her eyes opening wide for a second, eyebrows raised, that Aha! look on her mouth, and she nodded her head, settling in to quietly enjoy her breakfast.

Jamie always understands. Good friend.

“Well, I’ll be glad to see the last of this duty behind us,” Kevin sighed. “After we haul away the rest of that encampment, dig up the stained sand and gravel, and replace it with clean sand today, I think we should close off access to tunnel G40 for a while.”

Cullen nodded. “We can drop false walls at G38 and G43. I’ve got the substructure and materials all set up in my shop. Anyone who wanders into that section would just be redirected out the H40 tunnel.”

“The sooner we get busy, the sooner it’ll be done,” said Old Sam, rising to take his tray over to the return table, and the others joined him, quickly slurping down the last of their morning coffee or munching on a last bite of biscuit.

OK good, OK fine. Tunnel G40. Mouse knows another way. Secret way. Good place to hide and track the wild boy.

Mouse waited for the work crew to leave the dining hall, then gathered up his half-eaten breakfast and prepared to scurry off – only to stop at the sound of Jamie pointedly clearing her throat.

Oh.

Mouse looked at Jamie, who simply raised her eyebrows and pointed at his empty seat. Mouse set down his tray and plopped back into his spot. Shrugged his shoulders.

What?

“You haven’t finished your breakfast,” Jamie noted.

Oh.

“Mouse full,” he declared, trying to leave again, only to feel Jamie clamp her ankles around his left foot.

“No, you’re not. You always clean your plate,” Jamie replied. “And I know you’re up to something. Spill it.”

Sometimes Jamie understands too much.

*** Two hours later ***

Mouse and Jamie watched furtively from a half-hidden side tunnel as the work crew smoothed over the last wheelbarrow of clean sand and gravel, scuffed it with their boots to make it look realistic, and then packed up their supplies into the wheelbarrow to head back to the Hub for a well-earned lunch.  They waited for all sounds of the departing crew to subside before emerging from their hiding place to examine the site of the deadly encounter between Vincent, Catherine, and the Outsiders.

“Wow,” Jamie muttered, scuffing a bit at the loose gravel. “It’s like it never happened.”

“Almost,” Mouse replied, pointing to a smear of dried blood half-way up the tunnel wall, shivering, backing away. “Not good. Not OK.”

Jamie pulled a piece of sandpaper from her backpack and used it to scour the flakes of blood from the wall, crumpling the dirty sandpaper and stowing it in her refuse bag.

“Better,” Mouse sighed, giving Jamie a grateful pat on the arm. “Thank you, Jamie.”

Jamie smiled ruefully, gesturing about the campsite. “I’m not sure how you’re gonna track this kid. The work crew has trampled all over this site, removing debris, digging up … stuff. They’ve been up and down the tunnel hauling everything away, and we’ve even walked up that little side tunnel you found. If you’re looking for the kid’s footprints, I don’t think we’re gonna find any.”

“Maybe not,” Mouse agreed. “Maybe check both ways for footprints off down a side tunnel. Maybe have to hide and see if boy comes back here.”

Jamie nodded. “Well, I guess it’s good we brought some supplies with us. Let’s try this direction heading away from the Hub first. That would have been his most likely escape route, and it’s not muddled up by the work crew once you get past the excavation area.”

“Right, right,” Mouse agreed, smiling softly. “Jamie smart.”

Mouse shifted his carry-all to his other shoulder, and the two friends headed out the tunnel in the opposite direction from the work crew, carefully playing their flashlights over the ground, looking for any sign that the feral child had passed that way.  It was slow going, but after passing three side tunnels with no sign of the child, Mouse frantically gestured Jamie over to what appeared to be just a hole in the wall, possibly created by flood water at some point.  Just inside the hole, Mouse’s flashlight revealed drag marks, as though someone, a small someone, had crawled and dragged themselves through the hole, and beyond, a widening tunnel with a trail of small footprints leading away into the distance.

“Mouse, I don’t think we can fit through this hole,” Jamie murmured.

“Probably not,” Mouse replied, his voice grim. “But Mouse knows where this goes. Used to come here, long ago, when Mouse could still fit. Follow me!”

“Wait!” called Jamie, as Mouse rushed pell-mell back toward the excavation site, veering off into the first side tunnel he encountered, with Jamie rushing to catch up.

“Not good!” Mouse called back to her. “Very bad. Not a good place for boy!”

The side tunnel soon split into two tunnels, one to the right continuing on the level, the other quickly descending.  Mouse stopped and took Jamie’s hand.

“Jamie stay close,” Mouse murmured. “Stay behind Mouse. Go slow. Be very careful. Lots of drop-offs. Not good. Should probably block this place off. Worse than bad. Mouse almost fell once.”

Carefully, the two friends slowly entered the left tunnel, and immediately Jamie recognized the danger.  The steeply descending path was littered with loose gravel that could easily send the unwary slipping and sliding down into uncertain darkness. And the left tunnel wall was like Swiss cheese, with gaping holes opening up suddenly from time to time.  In the dark, it would be so easy to slip on the loose gravel and fall into one of those holes.

Mouse turned to look up into Jamie’s face.

“Big gully down there. Bad fall. Boy’s path on the other side. We sit down at each hole, brace, check to see if boy fell in from over there, go to next hole,” Mouse said grimly. “Fall in. Can’t get out. Maybe hurt bad. Maybe …”

Jamie squeezed Mouse’s hand. “Let’s hope for the best,” she said softly. “And maybe he isn’t even here at all.”

Mouse nodded, squeezing Jamie’s hand in return.

Slowly, carefully, Mouse and Jamie crept to the first hole, with Jamie solidly anchoring herself to a nearby boulder and harnessing Mouse to her belt with a short length of rope.  Mouse slid forward on his belly to the edge of the hole and peered over the edge, checking every nook and cranny of the gulley below with the high-powered floodlight from Jamie’s backpack.

No sign of the boy. Mouse breathed a sigh of relief and looked back to Jamie, shaking his head.

On to the next hole. Same result. Two hours and four holes later, they stopped to rest and have a bite to eat, leaning back against the tunnel wall and against each other as well.

“How are we going to get back up?” Jamie asked after a drink of water. “We’ve been crawling down on our butts most of the way. The path is way too steep and slippery without more climbing equipment.”

“Can’t go back up,” Mouse replied. “Keep going down. Opens up into third level M45 at the bottom.”

“Whoa,” said Jamie, round-eyed. “M45! We’re gonna have a long walk back. We’ll probably miss dinner.”

Mouse grinned at her, patting his bag a bit. “Brought dinner. Just in case.”

Jamie chuckled, shaking her head. “Father will be worried sick.”

“Can send message on pipes at M42,” Mouse replied. “If we find hurt boy, may need you to go ahead to send message for help.”

The two friends shared a long gaze, assessing, understanding, agreeing.

“I can do that,” Jamie said at last. “Well, that’s enough of a break. Let’s check the next opening.”

Two hours and six gaping holes later, they found him.

Mouse scrambled back and buried his face in Jamie’s shoulder, weeping, murmuring, “No, don’t look. Don’t look! Boy dead. Oh, Jamie! Boy DEAD!”

Oh. Oh. OH! Boy dead. Like Mouse could have died. Can’t thank Vincent. Can’t pay it forward. Boy DEAD!

Jamie held Mouse close, gently petting his hair, murmuring quiet words of consolation, tears streaming down her cheeks. “There’s nothing you could have done, Mouse. He probably fell sometime last night, while we were all worried about Vincent. Before you ever knew where the boy could be. Before you even thought of trying to find him. It’s not your fault. It’s OK.”

“Not OK. Never OK!” Mouse wailed back. “Boy DEAD! Now Mouse can never thank Vincent.”

Jamie kept petting Mouse’s hair, stunned by this revelation.

“You … you wanted to find the boy for Vincent?” she asked softly.

“Yes,” Mouse replied. “Mouse heard. Vincent worried about boy. Tell Father, boy might get lost, starve to death. Boy might fall. Boy DID fall! Not in the Abyss, but just as bad. Boy DEAD!”

Mouse gazed up into Jamie’s dear face, her eyes full of tears.

“I’m so sorry this happened,” Jamie murmured, tears freely falling, still stroking his hair. “But I don’t understand. You wanted to find the boy as a way to thank Vincent?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Mouse replied, bobbing his head earnestly, responding brokenly through his own tears. “Pay it forward. Cullen said. How to thank Vincent for Everything. Help someone like Vincent helped Mouse. Boy IS Mouse. Before. Before Vincent.”

Understanding broke through at last for Jamie, and she clasped Mouse to her even tighter, overcome with grief for her dearest friend. Grief for the feral boy, whose tortured life had come to an abrupt and gruesome end. Grief for Vincent, who would indeed be horrified to learn of the boy’s fate.

But mostly, grief for Mouse, who had attached such hope to this monumental and ultimately hopeless task. Mouse, who probably somewhere deep in that brilliant, convoluted brain, felt that in saving the boy he might also thank the friend who had saved him.

And possibly also feel that he had somehow saved himself.

So, they held each other and just cried for a while, until Mouse’s grumbling stomach brought them back to the reality of their situation. Jamie pulled a handkerchief from her jacket pocket and began the task of mopping up both of their faces.

“We can’t stay here.” She sniffed and sighed as Mouse appropriated her handkerchief to blow his stuffy nose. “You can just keep that.”

“We go on down the tunnel to M45, send message at M42,” Mouse replied, pocketing the grubby handkerchief and fishing the canteen out of his bag for them to share.

“You’re right about blocking off that hole, and I think we should also block off this side tunnel,” Jamie added, after a long, slow drink of water, handing the canteen back to Mouse, who guzzled greedily. “This is just WAY too dangerous. I can’t believe you ever came back this way after finding out just how scary it is.”

Mouse shrugged, “Good place to hide. Then. No one come this way. Mouse not need to hide anymore.”

Jamie looked at Mouse for a bit. Mouse looked back. Shrugged his shoulders.

What?

“I understand how grateful you must be to Vincent for finding you and helping you when you were a lost little kid,” Jamie said gently. “I understand why you want to find a way to thank him. Here’s what I think you don’t understand. Mouse, you’ve already been paying it forward for YEARS now. Every time you do something to help the community, you’re paying it forward. Every great idea, every new discovery, every work crew you join, every useful item you scavenge, every message or supply load you deliver, every person you help.”

Mouse shook his head. “Not the same. Not BIG enough.”

“Oh, but it IS! Each one of those little things adds up over a long time to a really humongously BIG thing,” Jamie insisted. “And on top of that, you tried to help the boy. We spent an entire day trying to find him. Even though he was already gone, that’s still a BIG thing. At least, Vincent will know, and not endlessly wonder and worry about what might have happened to the boy. You found out FOR him. Without being asked. That’s a big gesture.”

“A big thank you?” Mouse whispered.

“The biggest,” Jamie replied.

Mouse’s stomach growled again.  The two friends snorted.

“Come on,” Jamie urged. “Let’s get ourselves home. We have a long way to go.”

“In a minute,” Mouse replied, pulling a small, well-loved, one-eyed teddy bear from his carryall, showing it to Jamie. “Brought Winky for boy. To share. Help make friends. Vincent gave Winky to Mouse. Long ago.”

Mouse looked long and lovingly at Winky. Then straightened his shoulders. “Jamie brace Mouse one more time? Boy all alone. Needs a friend. Even dead, shouldn’t be alone.”

Jamie’s face twisted a bit, two tears running down her face as she stroked Winky’s beloved, scruffy head. “Of course, Mouse,” she said. “That’s really kind of you.”

One last wiggle to edge of hole. With floodlight, could see boy lying far below. Mouth gaping open. Eyes staring at nothing. Poor boy.

Mouse carefully tossed Winky down. And as if carried by magic, or by love, or by the powerful wish of a sad young man, dear Winky bounced and landed perfectly at the boy’s side, his little head resting against the boy’s shoulder.

Goodbye, Boy.

_______________

Author’s Note:  In the chronology of my BATB AU, this story actually falls BEFORE any of the other stories I’ve written to date.  So, this comes BEFORE Jamie and Mouse fall in love and secretly move in together.