This Dog Is Nothing
Read on AO3 here
It has been almost a year, and Andrew had not gotten any better. Bee had spoken to him about various treatments that might aid in his coping, but none of them struck a chord with him. As soon as she mentioned medication, his eyes darkened within a fraction of a second; she scratched that idea immediately.
It was hard for the foxes to see him in the state that he was in. He was a black hole, sucking out the energy and emotion of anyone that even dared to look his way. He still played exy because he had to, but he never put in more effort than was necessary, if he put any effort at all.
Andrew Minyard was nothing.
Somehow, with just the right words and some sort of shrink magic, Bee was able to convince him to go through with one of the therapeutic treatments she had previously suggested. He was very indifferent about the idea, and it was that indifference that gave Bee the chance to get him to agree.
That was how Andrew ended up with a service dog.
