It was in the dead of night that Jack jolted awake to the sound of the floorboards creaking. He froze in place, clamping his hand over his mouth as he listened to the heavy boots strike the wood above his head.

"And you say your pest problem is in this room? Not the kitchen?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. And none of the traps I set go off."

"Got it. Looks like there's been some dust disturbed here, you vaccuum lately?"

"No sir."

Shit! Jack, like any wild borrower in his situation, realized exactly what was going on. As quickly as he could, he slipped out of his bed and ran to his borrowing bag, grabbing all of his necessities. But as he was throwing the strap over his shoulder, he heard the pest control employer start to spray something, and the inside of the little borrower home started to get foggy. Jack coughed and covered his mouth and nose with his arm, but his eyes were already watering as his vision swam from the thickening air.

"Shit, no...!" But he felt his muscles weakening. His shoulders slumped as he took one staggering step, and then he collapsed onto the ground. He let out a weak groan, eyelids drooping as he heard another loud creak, like a ripping noise, and blinding light flooded his fading vision as the ceiling of his home was lifted up.

"Aha, there you are." Jack felt his breath quicken as a large shadow blocked out the light, but his body wouldn't move no matter how hard he begged for his muscles to work. He was forced to lay immobile as gloved fingers his own size came down over him, wrapping underneath and clenching around his frail frame to squeeze a weak breath out of him, and he felt the ground be stolen away from beneath him.

"A borrower? But how—?"

"Looks like it. Guess the winter season was too much for it— I bet this is one of the last wild ones too."

"Wow... Has it always been there?"

"Hard to tell. But it definitely had enough time to set up a little home. Better get all of that cemented after I clear it out." Jack's eyes fluttered as he struggled to stay awake, to keep listening to the humans, but the sleeping gas was too good at its job...

It was dark again, when he came to. He could feel a loud and deep rattling that vibrated through his body, the deafening hum of a vehicle alive and growling, tearing across vast distances of pavement. It took a great deal of effort until Jack could even hold his eyes open, but his mind was sluggish; he could barely move, if any, but strips of metal were digging into his back uncomfortably. Lines of darkness stretched across his vision, and even further away was the bland silver ceiling of a transport truck.

He knew exactly where he was, despite the lingering effects of the gas; he'd been caught. He'd been caged up, tossed into a truck, and was being shipped off to be dealt with. Probably a borrower vet, someone who could check him over and see if he was worth being sold to a pet store. His throat tightened... A pet. That's all he was to these humans. Nothing but a wild animal with enough intelligence to be domesticated. If he conformed, he'd probably have to put up with all kinds of abuse and mistreatment, but bile churned in his empty stomach at the thought of his other "option": If he proved too dangerous, too vicious and disobedient to be tamed... then he would be euthanized.

He slowly managed to sit up, leaning heavily on the bars of his cage as he took a look around. There were other boxes that stacked shortly from the bed of the truck's storage, and he was on top of one such collection. His nostrils twitched at the familiar smell of those traps the houseowner had set out— he'd known better than to take tainted food. But as the truck halted at what he guessed was one of those red lights, he saw the swing of inertia make the door slide a little. Was that the latch broken? Maybe he did have a chance!

The lethargic borrower waited until he felt the truck start moving again. When he felt the driver take a sharp turn, he took a deep breath and summoned his energy before managing to pick his body up and throw himself forward. He grunted as he flung into the metal mesh, but there was a brief joy when he felt the cage tilt under his scrawny weight— and then a fling of panic as he found his prison toppling off the box and clattering onto the ground.

But at the same time, he heard a screech as the truck suddenly swerved, and the cage slid violently before light flooded his vision, blinding him amongst all the chaos. He was just aware of cold white light and frigid air before slamming into something red. The borrower didn't remember his head getting hit, but as his eyes adjusted he could feel his skull throbbing. But he was out; the truck was ahead of him, with that damned worker out of the vehicle and studying the open back door. There was another box, a sealed smaller one, wedged under the slider door. Apparently, the latch was broken, and judging by the expression on the worker's face, it was yet another thing on a bad day.

Well, count me in, Jack thought groggily. He shifted his weight to slide a bit lower in the shallow drift he'd crashed into, praying that the fire hydrant he was against would be bright enough to conceal his prison. He watched, stared, as the worker walked back to the patch of ice he had hit, then back to check his tires before going to the front to bring one of those elastic tying-thingies; he pushed the box back in, pulled the door down, and then tied the handle down to manually lock it. Jack held his breath as he watched the worker look around, and then finally go back to the driver's seat and turn the engine back on.

He waited with baited breath as the truck made a U-turn and drove back, no doubt looking for him and any other missing cargo. But when it passed the fire hydrant, Jack finally let out a sigh and went limp on the snowy bars. I can't believe that worked. I made it out! But now was his next predicament; he had none of his tools nor belongings, and the lock was still intact despite his tumble. He was wedged in the snow and against the hydrant, so the people on the sidewalks and street would not notice him easily. Not that he could even move. Stupid ears, stop ringing! Go away tunnel vision, now was not the time!

He tried to move again, but his adrenaline had done its part. He found himself limp, laying in the cold, staring out at the open streets of Los Angeles. Curious, how busy and bustling these streets were in the daytime. He was so used to going from house to house in the cover of the night, searching and hoping for a place safe enough to call home. He'd thought he'd found it, that the entrance was well hidden enough, but...

His eyes glazed over, and his head slumped to hang limply on his shoulders. He was so tired. Tired of being underfoot, tired of always running and hiding. Why couldn't humans just leave things be? Why did they have to meddle with everything? Why did they have to ruin everything? He remembered the absolute fear his family had felt when they found out about the scientist who had gone on the news; the first ever discovered borrower, tested for humanlike intelligence, and with incredible capabilities... For an animal. Everything had gone on lockdown, no one was to make a peep, yet somehow it didn't last. And now, it was just him. And apparently, if he remembered correctly, he was supposedly "the last one."

He realized it was starting to snow now— an extremely rare but dangerous occurance in this city, he knew— and groaned, closing his eyes. He was too weak. It had taken him everything just to get out of that truck, which had fortunately not come back yet. But he was exhausted, too tired and weak to get a stupid lock open. And on top of that, the chilly air and ground were getting to him, sucking heat and energy from his battered body. It truly was the dead of winter, a borrower's worst nightmare— or so it used to be.

He wasn't sure how long he lay there, how long he might have dozed off or simply sat slumped in the cold, but the tinkle of metal caught his attention as paws pattered against the cold hard ground. Snow then crunched before a shadow darkened Jack's world. He weakly blinked and looked up before swallowing nervously; a dog had found him. It was sniffing at his cage, a fluffy tail waving cheerfully behind despite the grieving mood of its discovery. Jack gave a strained sigh and closed his eyes.

"G-go a... Away," he rasped. The dog sniffed some more, and then its collar jangled again as it turned tail and bounced off, letting out soft barks in the distance. Jack sighed in relief and closed his eyes: if he was going to die, then he wanted it to himself, alone and in a peaceful sleep.

"Chica? What is it girl? Did you find something?" Heavier footsteps followed the returning patter of those paws. Jack's brow knit in frustration: another human? He heard a gasp as the owner of the voice crouched over him, shrouding the world beyond his eyelids in darkness.

"Amy! We found something!"

"What'd you find? Wait, is that a borrower?"

"Yeah, looks like the cage is locked, but the lock is pretty small." Jack took a surreptitious peek; he was alarmed by the size of the hand at the door to his prison, powerful fingers coming around the lock before ripping it off the latch with a hard tug. He felt his breath hitch at the resulting shudder from the cage.

"You got it?"

"Yeah." The first human pulled out the remaining metal before undoing the latch, going down on his elbows to peer in at Jack; he was muscular and decently bulky, lean and definitely in shape. A small part of Jack found himself envious: that body type would have been so helpful to a borrower. But for a human? This was a borrower's worst nightmare.

"How bad is it?" The other human, Amy, was a young female, but to Jack's relief she was holding the dog back, restraining her from coming close again. But now he would have gladly taken the dog over the humans.

"Pretty bad. Looks like he's been out here for a few hours." The male human worked his hand into the cage and reached for Jack. The poor borrower's breath hitched again at seeing that giant hand take over his whole vision— but instead of feeling his body be crushed, the tan fingers gently enveloped him, carefully pushing him away from the cold metal and onto warm, plush skin. A feeble shiver escaped Jack as he was rolled over gingerly onto his side, and he watched as he was carefully pulled out of that damned cage and up and away, into the vulnerable open of the outside world.

"Oh he's freezing! Amy can you— thank you." A whimper escaped the borrower's lips as fabric suddenly overtook his vision, and he felt himself being rolled over again until he was wrapped up in a bundled-up scarf. Now even if he did have the strength to move, he couldn't. His arms and legs were completely pinned under the soft patterned wool, but he couldn't deny that it blocked out the snow and wind.

"Should we call someone, Mark?" Amy had let Chica get up now and walked over to peer over her companion's broad shoulder.

"I don't know." The young man was cradling the rolled up scarf in his arms, watching carefully at the pale and shivering little bundle of fear that lay quivering with exhaust. "I mean, he looks in really bad shape, we should at least get him out of this cold. Then we can look for a tag?" Amy nodded in agreement with the suggestion.

"I'll keep an eye on Chica, you keep on eye on him." Mark carefully stood as Amy called Chica back to her, giving him enough space to walk without the worry of tripping. He watched as the small borrower stirred at the gentle sway of his gait, eyes struggling to open, to figure out what was happening.

"It's okay." Mark adjusted the scarf, nudging the lip of it a little more over those tiny shoulders. "We're gonna get you out of this cold," he reassured warmly with a soft smile. He could feel the small creature's heart fluttering, racing and hammering with understandable fear. He tried to comfort him by pulling the flakes of snow out of his hair, but he stopped immediately when Jack flinched with a pained whimper. "I'm sorry, did that hurt?" Mark frowned, peering closer until he saw the bruise on the scalp.

"I think he hit his head. Might even have a concussion."

"Well, we're going to have to keep him from falling asleep until we know he'll wake back up." Mark let out an agreeing hum, shifting his arms a bit more closely around the borrower.

"Just a little bit longer, alright? We're almost home." Jack managed to blink awake enough to see that they were away from all the stores and people, and in a neighbourhood. The houses looked bigger than the ones he had seen, despite being held against the chest of a human. But he watched as one house seemed to draw closer, and then his heart fluttered in his throat when he heard Amy take the keys out and unlock the door. He was carried inside, and the warm enclosed air washed over him as he heard the door shut behind them.

Mark sighed as Amy shrugged off her coat. "I'll get the medkit and some hot tea going," she offered.

"I'll get him settled into a bed." The girl headed off with Chica, and Mark stepped past a kitchen to turn away from a staircase and enter the living room. "Whew..." He exhaled, then looked down when he felt Jack fidget. "It's alright," he soothed quietly, offering another kind smile. "Let's get you warmed up."