knew what it was to live free.

He didn't need a family. He needed them.

Fang's shoulders sagged. But there was no way out of here. Until his leg healed at the end of the week, he was stuck in a world he didn't belong to.

He moped around, limping, to the back of the house, flopping down, miserable, in the grass near the birdbath.

Trapped.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Scamp pushed through the doggie door outside, standing on the front porch, afternoon sun turning his gray-brown fur to tan. He had apologized and made up to Angel, teasing her and giving her big brown eyes until she laughed and was calling him 'tenderfoot' again. Now he had to apologize to Fang. Where was he?
 

"Uh...Fang? You out here?" Scamp called. He trotted into the yard.

He gasped. Leaping over near the doghouse, he bent his nose to the grass and lifted his head back up. Around his nose was a red collar. Fang's.

Flipping it into the air, he caught it in his teeth. Dad needs to know about this. And Angel.

"Pop! Angel! Come quick!" Scamp lunged toward the porch, collar still in his mouth, and ducked into the house.

Chapter 12

(Two Days Later...)

 Fang glanced down at his injured leg, still admiring that it wasn't bandaged up anymore.

"Why'd you do it?" Angel asked for the fortieth time. Fang was curled up  on the porch, refusing to sleep in the house. It was pitch-black outside, but Angel insisted on keeping him awake with deep-feeling questions.

"It didn't belong on me, okay? Get used to it. If yer prison wardens come an' put it back on, I'll take it right back off. They gotta get the message." Fang growled.

"I don't know about Jim Dear or Darling, but I get the message. Loud and clear." Angel muttered. "Look, Fang, haven't you noticed what goes on here? Warm beds, good food, strokes and kind words?"

"Yeah. It's called torment."

"It's called love, genius, and you need to get with the program before they--"

"Before they what?" Fang sat up. "Put me on a chain?"

Angel didn't answer.

"That's what you were gonna say, wasn't it?" Fang challenged. "Ain't no humans gonna put this Street Dog on some stupid chain. Forget it." He flopped back down. "I'm done talkin' sentiments, powder puff, and I suggest you do th'same."

"I know why you're acting like this." Angel continued, ignoring his last sentence. Fang groaned.

"What, what?" He snarled. "Go ahead an' tell me."

"You're mad at me."

There must've been a full two minutes of silence as Fang stared at her.

Finally:

"No?" Fang gasped, overdramatically slipping in sarcasm. "What a novel idea!"

Angel rolled her eyes. "I know what you wanted from me. You'll never get it, Fang. If anyone was ever for me, it's Scamp, period. You'll never, ever, get what you want."

"Don't you get it?" Fang snarled. He advanced on her, stepping forward while Angel stepped back. "I don't care anymore! I don't care about you, I don't care about the Chew-Toy mutt, an' I don't care about those three sappy triplets, either! I don't care." He lay down again, turning his back on her. "When the end o' the week comes, an' you wake up in the mornin' lookin' to make me into a groomed-up House Dog again, I ain't gonna be there. I'll be long gone, and I ain't never comin' back!"

"Well..." Angel spluttered, furious and hurt, "Well, good riddance, 'champ'!" She stormed toward the dog-door. "I don't want you to come back. Ever!"

"Yeah? Well, fine, then, I won't!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

Angel sprang through the doggie door and into the house.

Fang was laying in the pool of light from the window, a golden diagonal square on the wooden porch, and he noticed that three shadows had fallen across his resting place.

He looked up, gazing at the window.

Collette, Anette, and Danielle were there, their front paws on the windowsill from inside, standing on their hind legs. They all glared at him, hurt. Fang stiffened. How long had they been standing there? Had they heard everything? They must've.

Annette turned her nose up in the air, eyebrows lowered, eyes closed firmly. "Hmph!" And she hopped down from the window, disappearing.

Danielle shortly followed. Collette gazed Fang a moment longer, then grumbled, "I knew strays were bad news," softly to herself, and then she too disappeared into the household.

Fang blinked. Aw, no, it's not like that. "I care," he murmured, resting his head on his paws. Angel's cornflower-blue eyes filled his mind. Scamp's grin. Tramp's wink, Lady's smile. The three triplets blinking with adoration up at him, like little sisters would to a heroic big brother. He could almost feel Jim Dear's hand caressing his back fur with gentle strokes, and Darling's honey-dipped voice as she complimented him on what a 'handsome li'l pup' he was, how strong he felt. Junior's pudgy little arms wrapping around his neck, giggling.

I care.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"He didn't even try," Skip growled, pacing behind Tony's.

Rose glared at her paws. "He could've if he wanted to. He doesn't give a stinking garbage can about us anymore."

Afghanna, resting on top of a crate, sprang to her paws and hopped down. "That's not true, you two. That dog was broken-hearted."

"As if!" Rose scoffed. "He wants to stay with his pretty little Angel." Bitterness welled up in the young pup's eyes. "He never even noticed me."

Afghanna pressed her side against Rose's. "Hey, come on, just forget about him. He's happy where he is, and we're..." she swallowed a lump in her throat, "...we're better off...without him."

Skip hung his head and didn't reply. Rose swayed a little on her paws, but turned her face away, ears swinging, and didn't look up.

"You know what we have to do, don't you?" Skip spoke up, raising his head with a jerk, determination written all over his face.

"What's that?" Rose asked.

"We gotta find a new leader. Or try to get him back."

Afghanna stiffened. "Without Fang, are we really even a gang anymore?"

"Of course we are." Skip growled. "Who said he kept us together anyway?"

"Well, you could start with the fact that he taught us everything we know," Afghanna tilted her head to the side in one rapid motion and straightened it again, looking into the distance as she spoke.

"Except you, Aff'," Rose pointed out sweetly. "You knew just as much as he did when we met."

"No doubt," Skip agreed, in a low, reluctant voice.

"Look, we don't need a leader." Afghanna ignored their compliments frostily. "We're fine as we are."

"Who even told us we were a gang at all?" Skip scoffed.

"Fang." Afghanna growled at him, feeling defensive of their absent leader.

"I don't have to put up with Fang anymore," Skip snarled. Rose gave a tiny gasp at his savagery. "I don't need him. You're both wrong; the only thing he taught me was not to trust anyone."

"Knock it off," Afghanna barked. "This is tearing us apart."

"If I ever thought anyone would always be a Street Dog, it was Fang," Rose murmured sadly.

"Well, he's not now, and he's gone." Skip stuck his nose in her face, fed up. "Get over him."

"It's easy for you to say, you never--" Rose shot back, blue eyes flaming.

"Shut up!" Afghanna howled. They both froze and turned their heads to stare at her, eyes wide. Skip's eyebrows were still lowered like a dark cloud, though, as usual. "Just shut up. You two have no more sense than a couple of house cats. I'm surprised you're not still wet behind your ears!"

Skip blinked. Rose opened her mouth, then closed it again.

"Forget Fang. Forget him. We'll stick together and move on without him." Afghanna snapped. "Okay? Now Skip, let's get Tony out here for some bones and hit the hay."

"Huh." Skip grunted. He trotted over to the door and scratched on it with both front paws, sitting down on his haunches. Now all they had to do was wait for Joey and Tony to arrive, spot them, and feed them. Piece of cake.

Afghanna sighed, gazing down the alley. Where was Fang now? Curled in some comfortable little pillow, being hand-fed and stroked? It didn't matter.

Yes it does. Afghanna thought miserably. We need you, Fang.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Fang's eyes widened. Thunder crashed overhead. The sound of rain outside whatever dark place he was in pelted his ears. Speaking of them, they seemed longer than usual, and his paws were clumsy just now. He glanced around wildly. He couldn't see anything but pitch-blackness! The sound of a door creaking open a few feet away made him jump.

Lightning flashed outside, illuminating every drop of rain in the space of two split seconds. It