He was shuddering. Did grown men shudder? Did they tremble like this?
He wasn’t weak. He wasn’t.
“Shhh.. We’re going home.” She murmured, carrying him out of the room with slow delibrate steps. “We’re gonna get you fed, and get you water, and bathed and give you all the cuddles you need, brother. Stay with me Joss, I love you, just stay with me okay?”
She knew this feeling of shaking and feeling weak, but she also knew the ragdoll was strong enough to pull through.
He was too big like this. He’d lost weight due to being so sick from the injections, the smells, the tests, but it was still too big. He couldn’t hide like this, and he was making Sam slow. The thought brought a low yowl deep in his throat, the buildup to angry/hurt/posturing cat noises, and it was just as well he was a Ragdoll and not some other cat breed or species. Joscelyn was physically incapable of fighting the secure carry Sam had him in, and even with it being her, the cat panicked.
Those big blue eyes darted around the facility as they moved along. Blood. Blood, blood, bloodbloodbloodbloodblood! The stink of medicine, antiseptics, bleach, alcohol, his own sick. Another hiss escaped, and Joss just wanted out! He wanted home! Another distressed noise.
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“Sshhh…” She rubbed his arm, trying to comfort him. “Once we get out, I’ll put you down so you can shift.” She’s infuriated by the shape he’s in and it’s making her protective of him. “Just hang on. I brought that quilt you like, as well as food and water.”
She made it out the door to the facility. “I’m gonna put you down and let you shift, but please don’t run.” She sat down on the stairs and pulled him into her lap, her arms around him.
