A/N: Ok, I'm getting really excited for this movie. So, I wanted to do a bit of fanfiction for it. However, as I haven't seen the movie yet, I'm not sure I've got the characters down right. Also, another slight note, both for this chapter and for future reference. I know next to nothing about the law. So, please excuse me if I say something wrong where that subject is concerned. Lol constructive criticism is always welcome. Please enjoy!
It was raining hard that day. But, Mr. Peabody had to go out anyway. Not only was the refrigerator almost empty, he also needed a few small parts for a project that had to be ready to present tomorrow. This was why Peabody found himself walking down the street one blustery afternoon.
He had nearly made it to the store when he thought he heard a slight noise. Of course, there were all kinds of noises all around him, which his canine ears were particularly sensitive to: the rain and thunder, the whoosh of a passing car zooming through puddles, the sounds of chatter and the click of shoes on the pavement. But, this was not any of those things. This was a soft, almost inaudible whimper.
Peabody paused and the sound came again, from his left. Looking that way, at first, he saw only a narrow alley with a soggy cardboard box pushed against one wall.
"Now, what could that have been?" he asked himself.
A moment later, the sound came again and, at the same time, the box shook slightly, looking like it was on the brink of disintegration with all the water it had absorbed. Peabody slowly approached the box and peered inside, shocked to discover a baby lying there, amidst a nest of dirty blankets. Peabody searched the alley once more; but he saw nothing and no one other than the box and its squirming contents.
'Who would leave a child out in the rain?' Mr. Peabody thought, a spike of anger surging in his chest. 'If they didn't want him they could, at least, have the kindness to take him somewhere safe.'
The dog had been thinking recently of adopting a boy. He had even done some research on the subject. Adopting a boy, however, was not a task to be rushed into. Mr. Peabody, being the genius that he was, knew this. So, he lifted the child out of the box, intent on taking him to the orphanage.
Mr. Peabody cringed at the single word that came out of the boy's mouth. That was one thing he had decided already. If he was ever to adopt a boy, he did not want to be called by such an undignified name.
Putting those thoughts aside, the dog turned his steps toward the orphanage, tucking the boy against his chest in an attempt to keep him warm.
It wasn't long before Mr. Peabody arrived at the orphanage.
The man who opened the door at his knock did not exactly strike Peabody as the nurturing sort who would be eager to spend his time raising children. He was a big, hulking man whose mouth seemed twisted in a perpetual scowl, until, that was, he caught sight of Mr. Peabody. Then, he tried to smile. The expression merely sent a slight shiver down the dog's spine.
"Why, Mr. Peabody, what brings you here?" the man asked.
Though the two had never been introduced, Mr. Peabody's fame made him easily recognizable, of course.
"Good day, Mister…"
"Ramsdon," the man supplied.
Peabody nodded. "Good day, Mr. Ramsdon. I'm afraid I've brought you a new tenant." Here, he looked down at the baby in his arms. "I found this boy out on the street, all alone. So, I thought it best to bring him here."
Ramsdon's "smile" widened. The look was more feral than kind. Peabody suddenly felt the need to go inside and see that the little boy he held was properly cared for.
"We'll be glad to take care of the little tyke," Ramsdon said, with kindness that was clearly forced.
Peabody looked pointedly up at the sky before asking, "Would you mind if I came in for a minute or two?"
"Oh, no, of course not!" the man answered, though his smile seemed to falter for just a moment. He stepped aside to let the dog enter.
Inside, Ramsdon quickly set about searching for something for the baby to eat, chatting about this and that.
"Terrible weather lately, just terrible." Or, "It's so sad how many children are left orphans these days, many of them simply because the parents aren't prepared for such responsibility." Or, "I've heard so many great things about you, Mr. Peabody. It's certainly an honor to meet you."
Peabody gave only the obligatory answers as he looked around, taking in the dirty furniture, the peeling wallpaper, the leaks in the roof, and the rather dangerous-looking staircase that led up to the second floor. If this man couldn't even take care of his house, how was he to take care of children?
The caretaker soon returned with a bottle in hand; and Mr. Peabody handed the baby over after just the slightest pause. The boy, who had been snuggled happily into the dog's warm fur, blinked his eyes open at the sudden change in temperature and position, looked into the face of the man who now held him…and promptly set up a piercingly loud protest at being handed over to him. The man tried rocking the boy, bouncing him slightly, shushing him. The baby would not even take the bottle he was offered. He simply continued wailing at the top of his little lungs.
When his ears could take it no longer, Mr. Peabody took the child back in his paws, whereupon the boy at once fell silent, instead looking up at the dog with wide brown eyes that seemed to beg him never to let go. Mr. Peabody turned away from the pleading gaze to take the bottle from Ramsdon. The baby now gladly accepted it, his focus thus turning away from the dog.
Not long after though, the baby had drunk his fill. After using the technique he'd learned on the Internet to burp the child, Peabody returned the little bundle to the caretaker. This time, the boy did not even cry, merely looked at the dog with those big, sad eyes one last time. But, Mr. Peabody was firm. He turned and left the orphanage.
He had hardly taken two steps from the door when the baby began bawling anew.
He had hardly made it five steps away when a shout of, "Shut up, ya brat!" echoed from inside the orphanage, followed by the unmistakable sound of something striking something else.
The child's cries doubled in volume and intensity.
Mr. Peabody didn't waste a moment rushing back into the house. What he saw made rage, something he had rarely ever felt, bubble up inside him. The poor little boy was practically dangling in midair as the "caretaker" held him up with one hand. On the baby's side was a bright red, hand-shaped, mark.
Ramsdon immediately pulled the boy back to his chest, plastering a smile on his face once more.
"Mr. Peabody!" he cried. "I thought you were on your way to the shops."
"I was," the dog growled, voice dangerously low. "Are you aware, Mr. Ramsdon," Peabody continued, advancing slowly on the man and taking the boy he held safely into his paws, "that I personally know eight of the current Supreme Court justices, as well as, at least, twelve judges?"
Ramsdon's smile dropped; he looked slightly frightened, despite Peabody's extreme height disadvantage.
"I'm certain every one of them would be willing to put you in prison with evidence like this," the dog went on, looking at the angry welt on the boy's side. "Not to mention the evidence that could no doubt be found throughout this building." Now, the dog looked down at the boy in his arms again, eyes softening. "And I'm certain at least some of them would be willing to help me adopt this boy, as that is exactly what I hope to do."
So saying, Mr. Peabody left the orphanage, the baby still in his grasp, and headed for his penthouse. The shops could wait. He had a number of calls to make.
He knew that he was rushing into things after all, just what he had told himself he would not do; but, it would take a dog more cold-hearted than he to resist the look of adoration the baby gave him with tear-filled eyes.
A/N: I might continue this. If you want me to, I'd love it if you'd let me know. ;)