If anyone would have asked him weeks earlier to predict his relationship with the local stray, Baekhyun would not have had much to say. They were total strangers; Baekhyun didn't know his name, age, or background.

He just knew he wanted to help.

The wet heat of summer finally breaks into something breathable and enjoyable, drawing Baekhyun out of bed and into the park before most of his neighbors are awake. His won son is snoring softly in his room; Baekhyun is sure to lock the front door before stretching his legs on the sidewalk. He jogs a couple laps, shares some grapes with the ducks paddling in the pond, and is holding a tree for balance to stretch out his leg when he sees him—the local stray.

There's a high stray population, particularly in the city. Baekhyun has seen lots of them slinking and hiding, ghosts keeping to the shadows and warily eyeing the public, waiting for the opportunity to swipe food.

This stray is somewhat familiar to Baekhyun—tall but skinny and very filthy with brown hair, ears, and tail. The fur hangs in scraggly, gnarled curls. Baekhyun can just imagine all the various mites and fleas crawling over him and his clothes, making the hair on his arms stand on end.

Sensing company, even across the pond, the stray finds Baekhyun and bares his teeth, ears flat to his hair. It’s a perfunctory warning; he leaves the trash he was sifting through and climbs back into the trees.

Baekhyun has tried to approach him in such a way that he could at least get a better look. If the stray is just in need of a bath, that’s not as dire as a stray in need of medical attention for a wound or sickness.

Every time, however, he’s merely growled at and left alone.

But that won’t stop him.

He jogs back home to shower and dress for work. Mongryong wakes up once his blankets are yanked from his body. He makes coffee while Baekhyun gets ready for work. Gone are the days of slacks and ties; his closet is stocked with comfortable scrub sets of every color and even some fun patterns. Unfortunately, his favorite set is worn so thin they’re nearly translucent in the light, but he has no one to impress at home and adopts them as pajamas.

By the time he gets to the clinic, it’s been open and preparing for the day’s patients for over an hour. He drops his things in his office and immediately pages through the stack of files left by his computer keyboard.

“Hey, doc.”

Baekhyun jumps and sighs. “Good morning, Jongin.” The cat is notoriously silent on his feet. Baekhyun has threatened more than once to put a bell on him.

He picks up the top file and frowns at the blue sticky note. Call about daycare. The family just adopted their puppy a few months ago, before the ideal adoption period. They want it in daycare to socialize it. So much could go wrong.

es.

Baekhyun tosses the file back. “How's Kyungsoo doing?”

“Uh...okay.” Jongin’s tail curls back and forth, the only hint of stress being the subtle shake every other tic. “Hyung's not a bad patient, at least, but he doesn't like the limitations.”

Baekhyun scoffs. Kyungsoo's car accident left him with a broken leg and clavicle. He's no stranger to bone breaks or pain, as a martial arts instructor and competitor, and Jongdae coyly reports he didn't put up much resistance to Jongin's volunteering to play nurse. “Does Jongdae work today?”

“I'm his brother, not his secretary.” His tail wags with annoyance.

Baekhyun spreads his hands, brows raised. Calm down, princess. “Just a question.” The assistant gets grumpy when he doesn't get enough sleep. Jongdae's shared many stories of his zombie-like brother shuffling from his room after a few hours of studying for his boards after a shift at the clinic.

It's not pretty.

Jongin hands him a small pile of phone messages. “Those of us not paid salary have to clock in. See if his name's on the clock.”

“I will do that. Thank you.” He gently takes the messages and additional files from Jongin, and the catty assistant leaves. When Baekhyun was taking classes, he was just as irritable, if not worse.

The phone intercom buzzes. “Doctor?”

Baekhyun presses the button to reply with a sharp jab of a pen that he likes to chew on. “Yes, Jooyeon.”

“Lulu and Luobo's dad is returning your call. Line two.”

“Thanks.” He lifts the receiver, hitting LINE 2 with his pen, and spins on his chair as he greets the new cat dad.

Mornings are reserved for surgeries. Baekhyun has the pleasure of removing bits of things that have no business being in a body from no less than three separate dogs and finishes a multiple tooth extraction just in time for lunch.

Jongdae slips into his office and sits on his desk. “I heard you were looking for me this morning.” He's added more stickers to his name tag, framing his name an technician status in cute flowers and cartoon cats.

“And yet you show up now, in time for lunch.”

The cat shrugs, always smiling.

“What’re you in the mood for? I’ll eat anything.” Even fish, which--go figure--is what Jongdae immediately suggests. There’s a sushi restaurant near the clinic run by a Japanese family they’re familiar with after visiting so often.

Baekhyun waits until they’re seated at the end of a counter, nearer the kitchen, before asking Jongdae’s advice about the stray in his neighborhood.

"I see him a lot, but I can't even approach him. He growls and leaves right away." He supposes he should be grateful that the stray isn't combative, just avoidant. Watching someone walk away that he wants to know or help is very difficult for a natural herder, though.

“Unfortunately, Baek,” Jongdae sighs, “if he doesn’t want help, he doesn’t want help. You have no idea about his circumstances, and trying to force him into anything is just opening you up to danger and even a lawsuit with the city.” There are rules strays are supposed to follow, although few ever do. They’re very good at becoming ghosts.

Out of sight, out of mind. With elections coming up, some politicians are trying to promise to clear the parks and bridges of strays while others promise better housing opportunities. It's all talk.

“I just feel bad…”

“I know,” Jongdae rubs between Baekhyun's ears flattened and takes the bits of cucumber he picks out of his spring roll and stuffs them into the rolls on his own plate, “but not everyone can have a happy ending like you.” That year and a half left a dark stain on Baekhyun’s heart; he’s more sympathetic and empathetic and maybe involves himself more than he should

After lunch, Baekhyun returns to his appointments. A friend has an appointment for his puppy in the late afternoon; he greets them both warmly, although he notices how Vivi keeps rubbing his ear. It’s irritated and scratched inside, and he immediately folds the ears back. He smells something like beer and frowns.

“How long has it been like this?”

“A couple days.” Sehun sighs and rubs his neck. “I thought they’d just gotten wet and didn’t dry well after a bath a couple days ago, but he’s been whining more often, lately.”

Sehun holds Vivi's hand to keep him from wandering, although the puppy rarely shows any interest in anything and is too busy trying to stick his fingers in his ear canal.

“Is that stray still outside your house?”

“Hmm?” Baekhyun holds a soft ear back and gently rubs the inside with a long-handled cotton-swab. Vivi flinches a little when the swab touches irritated, red spots, but he’s good otherwise. He wrinkles his nose when Baekhyun spins the cotton swab on a glass side, smearing it with brown crud and squeezes drops of dye onto it before sandwiching it with a small square of plastic.

“The stray. You said there was some random dog hanging out near your house.”

“Oh, him. I hadn't seen him for a couple of days--not sure if that's good or bad--but I saw him in the park today.” Considering a strong stray population in the city; that he sees the same dog must mean he’s staked out territory nearby. “I feel bad, but he's really defensive when I try to approach him.”

“Just leave him be.” Sehun shakes his head. “He could be dangerous. You could get mugged or killed or something. He probably has fleas...”

“I doubt he’ll hurt me, but I appreciate your concern. Besides,” he offers Vivi a treat for cooperating throughout his exam, “it's probably not his fault he's a stray. Any number of things could've happened—kicked out of his house, outgrowing the shelter, running away...” He goes to the counter along the wall and looks at the slide under the microscope. “Yeah, there are rod bacteria, Sehun. I’ll prescribe some antimicrobial drops.” He turns to the computer and types up a prescription. “I’ll give the first dose now, you give another dose tonight, then twice every day for two weeks. It’ll all be on the package.”

“Gross.” Sehun grabs Vivi’s wrist to keep him from scratching his ear.

There’s a knock, and Jongin opens the door. He’s shaking a bottle and sets its box on the counter. Baekhyun thanks him and takes the bottle. “Hold him, please. I just need his right ear.” Sehun steps back so Jongin can stand in front of Vivi, carefully pulling him to his chest and holding an arm across his back. He squeezes lightly when the puppy tries to flinch away from the plastic applicator in his ear.

“Just a couple drops, Vivi, and you’re all done,” Baekhyun says patiently. Vivi flinches again, is caught, and whines when he feels the liquid dribble into his ear. The whines turn to little groans when Baekhyun nods and Jongin starts massaging beneath his ear.

“Not so bad, right? You let your dad do this for a few days, and you’ll get treats.”

“I never agreed to that,” Sehun mumbles, reading the medication packaging.

His remaining appointments are routine. One no-show, a reschedule. Baekhyun does some callbacks and checks up on previous surgeries before calling it good. He orders takeout to be delivered to the house and shuts down the computer.

There’s a headache behind his eyes, and he waves off an invitation for drinks in favor of just going home. All he wants is a bath, food, and acetaminophen.

A familiar tall, shaggy dog sits against the base of Baekhyun's building. He's holding his arm awkwardly; it could be broken or dislocated.

“Hey.” Baekhyun keeps his hands in front of him, talking low and even. “No worries. Are you okay?” He sees the shift in the man's jaw, a low growl. “Your arm doesn't look good. I'm a doctor—”

He gets up with a little difficulty and leaves.

Baekhyun sighs and watches him shuffle away. “Okay then...” It seems like he’s going towards the park, so Baekhyun’s theory of his local residence very well may be true. He’d rather the dog would just let him do an exam; there’s no shame in being a stray, but stubbornness isn’t always a boon to survival.

Unlocking the apartment, he listens for the thump of weight hitting the floor and footsteps. “I’m home!”

Mongryong careens around the corner, forever enthusiastic in greeting his dad. “Hi! Welcome back!”

“Did you finish your homework?” He pulls his scrub top over his head, then his T-shirt, running a hand through his hair to settle it. Both shirts are tossed in the general direction of the laundry basket.

“Didn’t have any.” The young Corgi sits at their kitchen island, folding his arms to lie on.

“Oh?”

“I did it during study period.”

“Then you want to come with me tonight?” Some nights, he volunteers at shelters as a doctor.

Mongryong smiles wide, popping upright. “Sure! Maybe the stray from before will be there.”

“Who?”

“While me and my friends were walking home, some big dog tried to talk to us, following us from the bus stop. This random, really shaggy dog came outta nowhere and chased him off! He left before we could thank him, but he…” His ears sit back against his hair. “He didn’t look well off, so I think he was a stray.”

Baekhyun hugs him, kissing his hair even as the boy whines. “I'm not a puppy anymore!”

“I'm just glad you're safe.” He finally releases his struggling son, who immediately combs through his hair with his fingers. “Why didn't you tell me right away?”

“Because nothing happened? We all went home, but one of my friends said she'd seen the guy before. He was helping a kitten get the toy they'd dropped or something, so he's a good guy.” The doorbell rings; Mongrying dashes to the front door while Baekhyun goes to shower.

Neither stray are at the shelter they volunteer at, but Baekhyun asks around and gleans a little bit of information. Sounds like his stray and Mongryong's may be the same person, because how many antisocial vigilante dogs can there be in one city?

Baekhyun keeps an eye out for the stray. Mongryong asks his friends to look around a bit, too, but not to approach him, even if it is to thank him.

Some other strays crop up along the periphery of the neighborhood, and an older cat accepts a box of takeout Baekhyun buys for her as well as a business card for the clinic to share with her friends. Just looking at her, Baekhyun sees the dark debris from ear mites crusted in one of her ears.

He’s neither surprised nor disappointed when no new clients show up at the clinic; all he can do is offer his help and check the back alley every so often. He likes to think he's over the disappointment, but he can't hide his heavy, aching heart from himself.

After a particularly long day filled with back-to-back surgeries--one that nearly became critical--Baekhyun is the last to leave work. He considers calling a taxi, but the cool night feels nice, and there’s a shortcut through the block before his house.

The alley is long but wide and intersects with other alleys. There is usually a fair amount of foot traffic, and most of the businesses and residents have lights that illuminate the cracks and potholes in the pavement. Baekhyun isn’t nervous walking the familiar route and feels heavier the closer he gets to home.

All he wants is a bath, some food, and to crawl into bed. Mongryong's staying with his grandparents, so Baekhyun doesn't have to worry about him.

His ears twitch and stand forward at the crunch of gravel ahead of him. Rounding a corner, he sees a man directly in his path and stops instinctively.

They stare at each other. The hairs on his arms stand on end when the man steps towards him.

“Wallet, phone, and keys.” Figures the night he’s most tired would be his first experience with a mugger.

“My wallet’s at home; my phone’s charging at work; I walk to work.” The mugger scowls—surprisingly not wearing any sort of mask; maybe this is his first mugging, too--probably trying to determine if he’s lying or not. For once, Baekhyun’s not just mouthing off. He brings his arms up, keeping his elbows close. It’s been a while since he practiced, but years of martial arts sit in his limbs. He doesn’t mind relying on muscle memory.

The mugger apparently doesn’t believe him. A click, and Baekhyun catches the flash of something in his hand. He's only ever seen switchblades on TV. “Empty your pockets.”

“I’m telling you, you’re wasting your time, and I have a lot of pockets—” They look at each other curiously, hearing the crunch of gravel but seeing neither have moved.

The mugger flies when tackled, landing hard on his side with someone much bigger on top of him. Baekhyun sees an opportunity to run, but the tackler’s silhouette looks familiar.

The stray yelps and falls to the ground, striking his head against broken pavement. Baekhyun kicks the knife out of the mugger’s hand and roars for him to just get out of here!, and he does. If he had a tail, it probably would have been tucked.

Baekhyun really regrets that his phone is, in fact, charging on his desk at work. Adrenaline and anxiety pump his heart triple time; he has to focus on calming his breathing just to find the pulse in the stray’s neck and not confuse it with his own rapid heartbeat.

It’s steady and strong, practically throbbing in his skinny wrist. He’s hot to the touch, barely conscious, and breathing unevenly, blearily looking at something between himself and the broken bottle by Baekhyun’s shoe. He doesn’t flinch when Baekhyun touches his face and head, a true sign of injury, considering he’d growl when they so much as looked at one another.

There are very few people around. His shortcut is deserted, now, and he’s loath to leave the dog alone but can’t carry him on his own. Gently touching his shoulder, he says, “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

The Kim house house is closer than his own, and he begs whatever being may be listening to let someone be home and not out drinking or be deep asleep. He takes the steps two at a time and pounds on the door, simultaneously ringing the doorbell. Jongin peeks around the little curtain hanging over the glass, then the door opens. He’s in his pajamas, and his hair is damp.

“Hyung, what’s wrong?”

“Who else is home?”

Jongin flinches at the tone, tail curling around his knee. “Uh, just me and Jongdae hyung. Minseok hyung is out—”

“Grab him, and follow me.”

“What’s going on?” He feels bad, but there's no time for long explanations; Baekhyun leans around Jongin and hollers for Jongdae, who shows up seconds later with a tired, incredulous scowl.

“Dude, what’s your problem?”

“I don’t have my phone, and that one stray beat off my mugger but got hurt.” Both Kims' tails rise up like exclamation points, and they hurry to stuff their feet into shoes. Jongin runs back for house keys and leaps to the bottom of the steps to catch up.

“Are you alright?” Jongdae asks. “Is it the guy from your neighborhood?”

“I'm fine, and I'm pretty sure it's him,” he pants. “It’s too dark to tell, and he’s not growled at me, yet.”

The trio runs into the dark nook where the stray had laid. He’s upright, now, holding his head and trying to shake away stars. He’s with it enough to growl deep in his throat, but Baekhyun ignores that and drops right beside him.

“Knock that off. They’re here to help.” His tone leaves no room for argument, and the matted ears fall back to the stray’s hair. He keeps a wary eye on both Jongin and Jongdae until they roll back and close. Baekhyun catches him and falls on his hip. “He’s really light… I can’t do anything here. Help me carry him.”

Jongin takes one of the dog’s arms. Jongdae takes the feet and asks, “Where? The clinic?”

“That’d be best, but it’s too far. Can we go to your place?”

The brothers nod. Among the three of them, they carry the dog’s deadweight and deposit him onto the sofa after Jongin covers it with a bedsheet.

“He’s filthy,” Jongdae comments needlessly, tail twitching agitatedly. He wets a towel at the kitchen sink and wipes away some of the dirt on his face, but it’s layered and seemingly embedded in the stray’s flesh.

Baekhyun orders Jongin around, gathering towels, bandages, antiseptic, gauze, tape, and a flashlight. “He’s got a nice goose egg from falling on his head,” he mumbles. He directs the light into the dog’s eyes and away, watching the dilation. “I wish we’d kept him awake.”

“Just do what you can, doc.” Jongdae makes numerous trips to and from the sink, trying to clean the stray as much as he can. “He’s got a lot of old scars,” he remarks, cutting away the very worn sweatpants. “There’s a nasty contusion here on his leg. Abrasions and scar tissue on both knees.”

“What even happened, hyung?” Jongin asks, hovering behind the sofa.

“A guy jumped me, and this stray tackled him.” He holds a bundle of gauze to the gash on the stray’s arm. “Got sliced by the mugger’s knife, apparently—. I didn’t see the knife, did you?” Both Kims shake their heads. “Damn. Could’ve gotten that to police for prints or something.” He checks the wound after blotting blood away. It’s not deep, but it’s long. He wraps new gauze to it with a roll of bunny-patterned vet wrap. “Cute wrap. Joonmyun hyung’s?”

“Is it obvious?”

Jongdae tosses the towels into the sink and washes his hands. “That’s as good as it’s gonna get right now. He needs a bath and to soak. I can’t even tell what color his hair is.”

“What is he, you think?” Jongin leans over, scrutinizing the ears and build.

“He’s big enough to be a Great Dane, but I don’t know, Jongin. It doesn’t matter right now.” Baekhyun drops his hands with a sigh, slouching forward with his elbows on his knees. He can do more in the morning. “You okay if I stay with him tonight?” Thankfully, Mongryong is with his grandparents for the weekend, so Baekhyun doesn’t need to get home right away.

Jongdae nods, perching on the arm of the sofa at the dog’s head. He sneezes but doesn't wake up. “Yeah.” Jongin returns to his bedroom, now that the excitement is over.

Baekhyun watches the stray sleep for a couple minutes, relaxed until he shifts onto his injured arm. It’s the same one he had noticed him carrying funny earlier. He adds X-ray to the list in his head of things to do tomorrow.

“Have you eaten?” Jongdae asks softly. “Minseok hyung went to get food. We’ve been behind in grocery shopping. The kid at the convenience store knows us all by name, now.”

“I’m not hungry, but this guy’s probably starving.” Baekhyun had felt bone when doing a brief physical exam. He’s muscular but skinny. “He should eat as soon as possible, but rest is just as important. I’ll take him to the clinic first thing in the morning. Sorry,” he adds, looking at his friend. “I know it’s your day off.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get you a blanket and pillow.”

Baekhyun makes himself as comfortable as he can on the smaller loveseat futon. It faces the sofa, so he can watch the stray.

He falls asleep to reassuring, soft snores.

Baekhyun manages to sleep throughout the night without dreams or worry for his unexpected patient. and the slow rustle of fabric over sheets wakes him up. He rolls off the futon and clambors to the stray’s side, holding his arms out to cage him against the sofa while calling to anyone who may be awake.

“Hey. Hey, you’re alright. Look at me. You remember me.” Baekhyun gently touches the stray’s hand. “It’s okay. You’re safe. And you kept me safe last night. Thank you. That man hurt you pretty bad. Do you feel it?”

The stray tucks his wrapped arm close, not looking away from Baekhyun. He has long eyelashes and pretty, round eyes. In the light of the morning, Baekhyun sees more bruising over the dog’s face and arms.

“What I’d like to do is take you to my clinic. I’ve told you I’m a doctor; my name is Byun Baekhyun. You hit your head last night, and I’d like to get a scan and some x-rays, to be sure your body is physically healthy.”

He looks warily behind Baekhyun, who turns and nearly jumps at Minseok and Jongin’s silent appearance.

“This is Minseok and Jongin. He and his other brother work with me and helped me take care of you last night. Will you let us continue helping you?”

The stray doesn’t say anything but nods slowly, unsure but probably seeing no way out.

Baekhyun relaxes a little, smiling encouragingly. “I promise this is all to help you and make you well again. There will be some discomfort, but I will do my best to keep it minimal.” He looks at Jongin again. “You’re closest to his size, think you’ve got some clothes he can wear?”

The cat nods. “I hope he’s not allergic to cats.” He leaves and returns with a pile of sweatpants, a T-shirt, and a sweatshirt. “The socks are hyung’s,” he remarks. He doesn’t wear socks.

“Surprised the hell out of me to find you two passed out in our living room last night,” Minseok comments.

“Sorry...it was closest. I couldn’t do much on my own. Where’s Jongdae?”

“He went ahead.”

“Didn’t want to wake you too early,” Minseok adds. He pulls keys from his jeans pocket and dangles them by Baekhyun’s shoulder. “Take my car, but please put a towel or something down.”

“Yes, hyung.”

The stray refuses help walking and seems pretty sng after resting a whole night, although he does pass out again on the way to the clinic, maybe lulled by the sound of road traffic or the rhythmic vibrations of the car. Jongdae is waiting at the side door that opens directly into an exam room and helps the dog inside. Jongin leaves his clothes and goes towards reception for the day’s client files.

Depositing him on the exam table, Baekhyun pushes his hair from his face. “I am not looking forward to the fleas.” He turns to the cabinet behind him, plucking a small comb from a bin and a tissue from its box.

“Maybe we should sedate him,” Jongdae suggests. “You’ve gotta comb everything, right?”

Baekhyun nods. Everything. “Gotta know what we’re dealing with, though. Who knows what all he’s carrying with him.” Parasites love strays. They can all be treated, but sometimes the treatment makes the patient sicker than the bug itself.

Jongdae shivers, tail straight along his back. “I gotta go. I’m too grossed out and need a decontamination bath… Probably need to bug bomb the house, too.”

“I’m sure your brother has already started that and will do the same to his car.”

They say goodbye, and Baekhyun is alone with the dog, who’s more awake and warily observing him and the exam room. His hair is tangled and matted in places, making it impossible to comb through.

“Alright, so since you are in stable condition and fully awake, first thing to do is get you cleaned up.” Because he is considered a flight risk as well as potentially harboring a concussion, Baekhyun cannot leave him alone, to bathe or otherwise. “I will stay in the room with you, in case you fall or something. Once you’re done, we have to cut the mats from your hair. Someone can make it nicer later, but right now I care about function over fashion.”

“Just shave me bald; I don’t care.”

Baekhyun blinks. So the dog can speak. “We may have to; I don’t know, yet. The great thing about hair is it grows back.” He gestures to the door leading into the clinic, tucking the clothes and a cotton tie-back gown under his arm. “Spa room is this way.”

Jongin or Jongdae must have told the other staff about the newest patient; they only see people briefly before they are given a wide berth, whether out of respect or a fear of fleas.

Stripped for his bath, the dog is unashamed of his ness but more wary of vulnerability. He watches Baekhyun work the faucets and test the water and fill the tub, setting out bottles of shampoo and soap.

He doesn’t say anything when Baekhyun clips the mats from his head and tail, and the doctor does try to not perform a total hack job, but he’s no groomer.

Even babying his injured arm, the stray manages well on his own until it comes to scrubbing his back. Baekhyun wordlessly holds out a hand for the washcloth and gently scrubs from the nape to the base of the sodden tail, which wags a little, maybe a nervous tic.

Water swirling down the drain runs off grayish brown but eventually clear. “After washing your hair, you can soak for a bit. I think you can handle your tail, but would you like help with your hair?”

“...Please. It hurts to lift my arm.”

Baekhyun squeezes a generous amount of flea shampoo into his palm, enough so the hair is completely white with lather. He put on a water-resistant smock before turning on the water, but it only hangs over his thighs. When the stray’s tail wags, it hits his knees and socks through his pants.

But he accepts that. A wagging tail means a dog in an agreeable mood. The less standoffish the dog is, the more Baekhyun can help.

He also notices that as his fingers rub the stray’s scalp and comb through the trimmed hair that the stray leans into the touch, turning his head slightly for more attention. Touch starvation is a common phenomenon among strays; they live too uncertain a life to allow for much affection of any kind, and it weighs on them. Simple touch is a luxury they can’t afford.

Once the dog is rinsed of suds and smells more like soap than weeks of musty old laundry, Baekhyun blots his pants with a towel and sits on a stool in the corner of the room. He looks over every so often, to be sure the dog hasn’t gone under the water or fallen asleep.

“So,” he starts, “since I know you can speak and understand me, will you tell me your name?”

“...Park.” He draws water into his hands and lifts them out, letting the water drain between his fingers.

“Park what? I have to be nosy. If you’re on file, I need to record your injuries and treatment. If you’re not, I have to start a new file. If you don’t want someone to know you’re here,” he adds slowly, “know that everything here is kept confidential. Whatever is done within this clinic, or even your presence here, does not leave the clinic.”

Water flies as the dog shakes his head, evidently having had enough of sitting in the tub and grabbing a towel. “Chanyeol.”

Baekhyun surreptitiously takes his phone from his pocket and texts Jongin the name to look up.

“Alright, Park Chanyeol. Come out of the tub and put the robe on. We’ll dry your hair, then I’ll do a more thorough exam, take some scans, and blood.” He waits until Chanyeol has two robes on and some semblance of modesty. “How are you feeling?”

“Warm… Clean.”

“Good. How about your head and arm?”

“My bandage is wet.”

“That’s fine. I’ll rewrap it.” Plugging in a hair dryer, he holds it up. “Will you let me dry your hair? It is noisy.”

When there is no protest, he points to one of the salon chairs. Chanyeol flinches at the roar when the dryer is , but his shoulders relax once the warm air hits him. Baekhyun runs his fingers through the shaggy hair, lifting and untangling it as best he can. Clean and partly dry, it’s a nice brown-blond. Once dry, it should be pretty gold.

“I need to touch you to clean your ears, but after that, we’ll go do scans and then return to that first room, and you can get dressed.”

Few enjoy having their ears cleaned. It’s unpleasant and invasive and means very close contact, which a lot of people do have problems with. Chanyeol stays very still, watching Baekhyun more than the items he gathers, but his ears pull back when reached for, and he leans sideways after them.

He could call someone in to help hold the squirmy stray, but he would rather not stress Chanyeol more than he has to.

Leaning across him, effectively lying on him and holding him down, Baekhyun speaks calmly, “It’s a gross feeling, I know, but I need to clean your ears…” He starts rubbing the cotton into the ear with his thumb, and Chanyeol gradually relaxes, groaning deep in his chest. “Feels nice, right? Completely clean ears will feel even better. Trust me.”

He continues his task until the cotton comes out clean, masterfully holding back the urge to hurl at the smell of infection.

There are nerves near the ears that, when rubbed, release endorphins. It makes dealing with ears much easier, although it leaves the patient kind of fuzzy and weak-kneed.

Baekhuyn gives Chanyeol a minute to return to himself and touch his ears, finding them clear and not greasy or crusty.

Quietly and obediently, Chanyeol follows Baekhyun like a shadow, keeping his arms and tail close but ears up as they go down a short hall to an isolated room. When presented with a heavy apron, Chanyeol frowns and tries to push it off. After three aborted attempts at X-rays, Baekhyun pulls the apron back into place and steadily meets the stray’s eyes.

“Hold still, or I will make you.” Chanyeol side-eyes him and scoffs but holds still. “Corgis are short, not small. Don’t test me. Just a couple pictures, and I’ll take this off. I know it’s heavy. Be patient.”

The head scan goes better than expected. Baekhyun has never liked the machine. Even going into the simulation version, he giggles. He’s a nervous giggler.

“Well done!” Chanyeol sits up and beats Baekhyun to the door, like a puppy needing to go potty. “Change in the spa room--not the sweatshirt just yet--and we’ll finish up in the exam room.”

Even Jongin’s clothes are a bit too short, but they hang loose on the stray’s skinny frame.

“Again, I’m sorry, but I have to touch you.” He saw the extent of bruising and old scars over Chanyeol’s legs. His main concern is the shallow wound over his arm. It is already healing, still white and pink, soft from the bath. He still puts antibiotics on pads of gauze and wraps it rather than using adhesive bandages, for more protection.

Chanyeol remains still and alert, although his tail wags briefly when he’s asked how he’s feeling. “Tired. But okay, I guess.”

“Do you remember going to the doctor as a puppy?”

“...No.”

Baekhyun nods. “That’s alright. You’re in pretty good shape, all things considered. I won’t have your scan or test results for a few days, but I’m not worried about any broken bones, and infections can be cleared with antibiotics.

Someone knocks on the door. “Hyung?” Jongin. “We found something for you to look at.”

Baekhyun ignores the low growl and pulls off his gloves with a snap. “I’ll be back. Please stay here.” The exterior door will set off an alarm if opened from the inside. “You can lie down, if you’d like. It may not seem like it, but these exam tables are kinda comfy. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Jongin waits in the hall outside Baekhyun’s office. “We found an old city record.”

“Yessss.” The doctor takes the paper, spinning in his chair as he sits.

“Your stray is at least partly Golden. Nothing on him or his family since he was a puppy.”

Baekhyun sighs and flips the paper over, but there are only a few more lines of text. “He probably ran away or was abandoned when he was young, so he grew up without proper socialization or love or anything.” Foster programs can only do so much; by now, he’s definitely too old and aged out of the system. If the birthdate is accurate, Chanyeol is just a few months younger than him.

“Why’s he like you so much?” Jongin’s ears fall at Baekhun’s raised brow. “No offense.”

“I honestly don’t think he does; he’s just tolerating me because I won’t allow anything less. But who knows? I’m just grateful to have some information to work with.”

“Should I get some vaccines prepped?”

“May as well, long as he’s here. Antibiotics, as well; he has a double ear infection. I’ll go talk to him about it. We should do a urinalysis, too, but I don’t want to do too much all at once. He’s at least clean, but he should use flea shampoo for a while. He can see a groomer later.”

“How...is he paying for this?”

“He’s not. I am.” Baekhyun takes the file and returns to the exam room. It’s empty.

He finds Chanyeol huddled between the exam table and counter, cradling his arm and making himself as small as possible. Baekhyun crouches at the end of the counter.

“You doing alright?” He shifts to sit completely on the ground, crossing his legs and leaning on his knees. “This is all new to you, and I am sorry there is no way to make it more comfortable. This is your medical file,” he says, tapping the file on the floor. “There isn’t much in it; nothing since you were a puppy. I’m sorry for what you’ve gone through. We’re all here to help you, though, for as long as it takes to get you well again.”

Still, the other dog is silent. Baekhyun senses his anxiety.

“I’m preparing vaccines for you, and I want to run some more tests. You’ll feel like a pincushion once we’re done, but I promise it is all to make you better again.” Someone knocks on the door. Seulgi cautiously slips inside, a handful of syringes in one hand and a specimen jar in the other. She doesn’t falter seeing the doctor on the floor, wordlessly passing the syringes in exchange for the file, to place the vaccine stickers in the chart with her initials.

When she leaves, Baekhyun holds up the vaccines. “I need your arm. It will only hurt for a second, then it’s done.” He holds out a hand and waits. “After these, I’ll take you back to my apartment, and you can rest.”

Chanyeol stares at him, nervously looking between his face and the syringes. “I can’t go home?”

“As your doctor, I do not advise it, and I cannot in good conscience allow it just yet. Let me take care of you, get you well, and we’ll see what the future holds.” He waits a beat, then asks, “Alright?”

Chanyeol nods, reluctant. Baekhyun knows he’ll have his hands full and very little sleep for as long as he’s host to the stray; if he’s anything like Baekhyun was, he’ll try to leave at any opportunity.

He takes the vaccines easily, looking away reading a poster about gum disease prevention. He’s less thrilled about the antibiotics in his ears, but once they’re massaged, he nearly purrs again.

“Before we go, I need you to fill this. Bathroom is across the hall.”

“With what?”

“Urine. Analyzing it will show any signs of UTI, kidney disease, or diabetes. It seems weird, but it is standard and very helpful. If you don’t want to donate willingly,” he adds, holding up another syringe, “we can do a cystocentesis.” Like he said; he’s short, not small, and is not a pushover.

Tail a little between his legs, Chanyeol lets himself be escorted to the bathroom and emerges with a dark sample Baekhyun leaves with the staff in the treatment refrigerator.

"How is he, hyung?" Jongin asks softly.

"He could be worse, which is good news, I guess. He's scared but trying not to show it. He'll stay with me for now."

"Is that a good idea?"

"I dunno, yet." He just knows he wants to help. Physical wounds are one thing; he's not sure he's prepared for the ones he can't see in scans or exams.

But he'll do his best to heal those, too.

a/n: Written for EXZoo Fest round 4. (prompt no.P104 Baekhyun is a vet and for the past few days he's seen what looks like a malnourish and homeless tall dog hybrid in the block around his apartment building, he tries to approach him several times but he always gets a warning growl in return. When a late night back from work a man tries to rob him is that same hybrid that saves him but gets wounded in the process. After much convincing he persuades him to let him take care of his wounds. Baekhyun plans to heal not only the physicals ones, but also those from his heart)

In this AU, vets are the normal doctors, and vet clinics/hospitals are just normal clinics/hospitals. The homeless are called strays. EXO's pets are their actual children, because why not?

This fic was getting so out of hand that I could not find a place to just end it, but I tried. There's a lot more to Baekyeol's relationship, so if I can kick my own , I'll return to this fic and rework it. 🤞