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beerecordings · 2 years

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Werewolf AU - Part 10

The light comes in through the slats of his blinds in strips of gold, patterning his bedsheets. He breathes in slowly, the feeling of sluggishness easing, at least a little. Linens, smoke, Jackie. Marvin opens his eyes.

He's alone. The smell of his cousin lingers in the air, but there's no one here.

His mouth is trembling instantly. He struggles up in bed, his head pounding as the blood rushes through him, and staggers towards the door.

The side door of his duplex clicks shut the same moment he yanks open his own. From the other room, Marvin sees Jackie turn towards him, his arms full of pizza boxes.

“Hey,” says Jackie. “Wow, you got a real rat's nest going on there, Marvel.”

“I thought you left,” Marvin whispers, taming his hair with one shaky hand.

Jackie shakes his head, stepping towards him. “No.”

Marvin feels his knees buckle. Jackie's there in a second, wrapping his arm firmly around his waist and tugging him up, somehow managing to hold both boxes as he pulls Marvin back to bed and sets him down on his mattress.

“Sorry,” rasps Marvin. “I just got up too fast.”

“You gotta take it easy. I'm not going anywhere.”

Jackie tucks his blankets up over his lap again, patting his thigh before he goes to set the pizza on the worn bedroom dresser. Marvin just stares at him. Jackie tries to smile back, opening the box and letting the heavy, wonderful smell rush up into the room.

“I got Ari's. They know our order by heart there anyway.”

“Are we going to just... pretend things are normal, then?” Marvin whispers, sinking his fingers into his blankets, pulling them to his mouth to rub his scent against them for a moment. “Is that what we're doing?”

Jackie looks down at the pizza for a long moment.

“No,” he says. “We're going to talk.”

“You hate talking,” chuckles Marvin, though there's not much amusement in it.

“Not today,” says Jackie. “Not for you. But first you're going to eat and tell me what happened. You said it had been eight months. Things were getting under control.”

Marvin hangs his head. “I've been taking my meds. I swear. Just... I think I'm just a little sleep-deprived. A little stressed.”

Jackie rumbles and brings Marvin a slice of pizza on a paper plate, getting into the big round bed with him and sitting against the headboard. Marvin can't pretend he's not starving. With nobody but Jackie there, he eats like a wolf, tearing the first slice into pieces and letting Jackie bring him another and a bottle of water.

“I only had the one, right?” he asks, almost panting from how fast he downed that. “Nothing in my sleep?”

“No. I would have taken you to the hospital if you had.”

Marvin shudders, curling his arms around his shoulders. “Hate the hospital.”

“I know. But better than not knowing what's going on.”

“Yeah,” Marvin agrees, bitterness rising in his scent. “That's real torture. Being worried about something and not knowing what's happening. Nobody talking to you. Sucks.”

Jackie breathes in, and then out.

“I didn't know how to tell you,” Jackie says. “I knew what you'd say if you found out I let Dad come home, and I couldn't bear to hear it.”

Marvin's chest trembles all on its own for a second, like his ribs themselves are shaking.

“You did, then,” he whispers. “You let him come stay with you.”

Jackie looks at him directly. “I did. He had no where else to go.”

“He could have gone – ”

“To Damon's?” Jackie interrupts. “To Martha's? Where he can start a new pack, bring in more wolves, start the cycle all over again? Staying with me was... safest, for everyone.”

Marvin feels his eyes water. He wipes at them, hoping he can blame fatigue for the movement. He's barely clear enough to have this conversation, but then again, he wouldn't miss it for all the money in the world. Jackie always tells the truth, but he very rarely talks about real things.

“Why is it always your job to protect everybody else from your dad?” Marvin asks.

“Because if I don't, who will?”

Marvin sighs through his nose. “I think there has to be a certain point at which you decide you have to prioritize yourself, Jackie. Your dad... shouldn't be in your life anymore.”

“See, I knew you'd say that,” replies Jackie automatically. “I knew that.”

“Then why – ”

“I love my dad, Marvin.”

“I know you do, but all he does is hurt you!” cries Marvin.

“No, wrong,” replies Jackie, not angry, but firm. “No. 95% of the time, things are good. My dad taught me strength and how wonderful it is to be strong for other people, taught me both pride and humility, cooked food for me every single day I stayed at his place because he loves cooking for me, loves feeding me, loves to show me how to make potstickers and fried fish and mac and cheese better than anybody's mac and cheese. My dad took us to the water park every Saturday in the summer, bought me presents I still treasure for every birthday and Christmas, and took me to the park or the forest with him every time he went, while other wolves leave their pups at home if they're too rambunctious. My dad knew I was autistic before anybody else, Marvin, did you know that? Not in so many words, but he knew I was different, and he never minded. When I needed instructions, he gave them to me clearly. When I told him there were things I just couldn't eat, he knew I wasn't being picky, he just stopped making those things. My dad took care of me, Marvin. My dad... my dad loves me too. And not as much as he should, I know. Not as well as he should. But he does.”

Marvin stares at him. Jackie's eyes are fixated on something far off, but he's here with Marvin right now, for the first time in a long time.

“And Marvin, I never wanted to tell you those things, because you have a right to hate my dad, absolutely, you do,” he continues, voice very soft, and yet unyielding. “Because I learned a long time ago to never tell anyone about what goes on between my dad and I. Because you hate the good parts and nobody else can stand the bad.”

Marvin reaches out without thinking about it, to squeeze Jackie's arm. He doesn't know why. Jackie turns to him, pushing their heads together for a second, rubbing his scent against him.

“I know you want me to just cut my dad out,” Jackie says. “But I'm not ready to do that. I do need help with boundaries, and yes... I think I need to ask him to go stay somewhere else. Tell him to go stay somewhere else. But you can't do this, Marv. Can't stress yourself out so badly you seize every time you think about my dad coming around me. It's funny... back when we were teenagers, I thought I was the one protecting you. But maybe you were always just taking care of me. Maybe that's why you never told anyone either, not until it got so bad you had to, because you knew we'd be split up, and I might be alone with my dad. So you stayed. And when you went home to Ireland with your dad, you came back here to me, in Brighton, as soon as you could. Because you were taking care of me. And you still are. Right? You didn't know what to do, this last week. But you were worrying about me. Not yourself. Me.”

There are tears dripping down Marvin's face, hot and rapid. He clenches his teeth, determined not to cry, and lets his head fall down on Jackie's shoulder. And it's so painful, even to be here talking about it, and he wishes, not for the first time, not for the first hundredth time, that Graham had just never hurt them, and they could have just been happy kids for the rest of their lives.

“I don't need you to be the one to help me with Dad,” Jackie whispers. “It hurts you too much. And you have always supported me so much, Marvin, but I need you to see me as an adult now. Truly. I need you to let me try again with my dad. I won't bring you the details, won't involve you in it. But you can't do this to yourself. You just can't.”

Marvin hits his arm weakly, shaking his head. “I've had to watch him control you again and again. What was I supposed to do?”

“You could have asked,” says Jackie, gentle still. “Have I ever lied to you?”

“No. Not to me. But to everyone else, yes.”

Jackie's quiet then. Jackie's quiet.

“Let me ask you something, Jackie,” croaks Marvin, looking up at him at last. “Have you ever told anyone about how bad things were between you and your dad?”

Jackie stares back at him, silenced. After a moment, he shakes his head.

“What's the point?” he whispers. “I missed my chance to protect you.”

“No, Jackie, no,” Marvin protests, sitting up. “That's where you're wrong. There is a point. It's so you can fucking deal with it. Because your self-hatred isn't just about the pack leaving last year, Jackie, it's about the way your dad treated you. Because I've fucking seen how you beat yourself up when you make tiny mistakes. How you've internalized Jacob and Sara leaving and everyone else being ableist douchebags like it's all your fault. Because you've never even allowed yourself to come to fucking terms with how badly your dad used to hurt you, and how many people knew and did jackshit about it, and that's what makes me goddamn worry, Jackie, dammit.”

Jackie won't look at him now. Won't talk now.

“Jackie.” Marvin reaches out, pulling on his hoodie strings, trying to draw him back. “Jackie. You told me you were ashamed. I was sleepy, but not that sleepy. I remember. Talk to me about being ashamed.”

Jackie covers his face with his hands. He smells like blood and vodka. Guilt.

“I didn't protect you, Marvin,” Jackie whimpers. “I thought I could and I didn't.”

“It wasn't your job.” Marvin grabs him, needing to touch him right now, needing to make him understand. His heart is pounding; it hurts. “You did everything you could.”

“No, I didn't, I didn't tell the cops anything, I wouldn't testify, I wouldn't do anything – ”

Fuck, that hurts. Fuck, that stings like flame through his marrow. Marvin loses more tears, shoving his face into Jackie's neck and rubbing his smell there, trying not to break down.

Graham went to prison eight years ago. In that time, they haven't talked about this. Not even once. And this is why, because it sucks, but he can't hold it back anymore, can't just pretend it never happened.

“I have failed you so many times,” croaks Jackie.

“No,” Marvin protests. “No.”

“I know I have, and I know you're angry, and that's why – that's why I can't be your Alpha, Marvin, why I told you no – ”

“Jackie,” Marvin tries to cut him off, sitting up. “Jackie.”

“ – why I didn't tell you I let Dad move back in, because I know you're angry, because I failed you, because – ”

“Jackie!” Marvin grabs his collar and shakes him, unable to hold it back anymore, and then he's screaming, and he doesn't mean to be, but it's pouring out of him like he's broken in half. “I'm not angry at you! I was never angry at you! I'm angry at him, he's the one who hurt me, who hurt you, I'm not angry! Jackie! You were seventeen! You were seventeen years old! I love you, I love you, I love you!”

He's being overwhelming, he's shaking him, he's screaming, but he can't stop. He shouts at Jackie and grabs him, and Jackie grabs him back, and then they're crashing together, so the greasy paper plates flutter off the bed and leave grease on the floor, but it doesn't matter, nothing matters.

“I'm angry because he hurt you, I'm angry because he could hurt you again, I'm angry because you deserved to be able to testify, to tell anybody how bad he treated you, because nobody protected you like they should have, because you're still hurting, because I'm still hurting, I'm angry, Jackie, all the time, all the fucking time, but never at you, never at you, I love you.”

He breaks down, and so does Jackie. He can hear Jackie chanting that he loves him back, that he's so sorry, that he loves him, he loves him, he loves him. They're a wreck, a fucking mess, spread out on his bed in a tangle, and Marvin couldn't let go of Jackie if he tried in that moment.

They're kids again, in their big bed together, wrapped in everybody's smell. They're small and safe and together, and there's not much else that matters.

He's spent so long wishing he could undo the past. Maybe, instead, they can hold onto the good parts, together. For the first time in years, he does remember the taste of Uncle Graham's mac and cheese, and how he used to bring him and Jackie both to the park, and Marvin spent so many hours there, playing with his cousin under the watchful eye of the pack. And it wasn't that what didn't kill him made him stronger, but the parts that were good...

Doesn't he deserve to remember those? To cherish them? To look at them without pain, and stop regretting the past every day he thinks of it? Doesn't he deserve to hug his cousin without remembering every bruise tattooed across his body as a kid? Don't they both?

He's half asleep by the time they've both calmed down, exhausted. Jackie rubs his shoulder, gazing down at him.

“I shouldn't have talked to you about this right after a seizure,” he says.

“I'm fine,” mumbles Marvin. “Just sleepy.”

Jackie rubs his scent into his shoulder. “Want to go to bed?”

“No. More pizza.”

Jackie laughs softly. Marvin looks up at him and sees him red with crying, eyes ringed with fatigue, but smiling nonetheless.

He picks Marvin up like he weighs two pounds and carries him to the living room, setting him on the couch and bringing him more food and water. Marvin wonders if Jackie's feeling just as nostalgic as him, because he puts on a Star Wars prequel, of all damn things, and Marvin laughs as he remembers how they used to act it out in front of TV when they were really little and everybody still lived in Ireland. They stuff themselves with pizza, just as old of a tradition, and it feels good to eat well for the first time in days.

He comes close to falling asleep on the couch, too. Jackie doesn't, though. He's still sitting up, gazing at him instead of the movie, eyes serious.

“What?” murmurs Marvin. “You okay?”

“Did you mean it?” asks Jackie.

“Did I mean what?”

“That you still wanted me to be your Alpha?”

That catches his attention. He tries to sit up, pushing back his messy hair, and he thinks about it for a second.

“Yes,” he says, and the words come out sure and steady. “I did. I do.”

Jackie's eyes slide closed.

“I want to try again,” he whispers. “I want to be your pack.”

Marvin stares at him.

Jackie never lies.

In that moment, he knows he needs to ask Jackie the one thing they've left out of this whole mess: are you going to keep being a vigilante who bites people's hands off when you decide you need to?

Little things like that, you know. Could be important.

But he doesn't have it in him. Doesn't have it in him to hear something he doesn't want to hear, not right now, when they've just swept under so many carpets and buried so many skeletons together, and things are truly good between them. He'll stop Jackie, that's what he'll do.

Jackie will lead him, and Marvin will care for him, and together they'll make a pack of two.

Yes. Yes. At last.

“Me too,” Marvin tells him.

And when he wakes up the next morning, Jackie is still there, and Marvin smells the both of them, together, in every corner of his home.

They come through the door and the first thing Sean does is hug Henrik, swooping into view and wrapping his arms around him. Chase grins faintly, stepping past them to plop down on the couch, playing with his bracelets.

Henrik returns Sean's hug uncertainly, blinking at Chase from over their rehabilitator's shoulder. "I'm okay," he proffers, after a second, and Chase turns his head away as Sean murmurs apologies to the doc.

"It shouldn't have gone down the way it did."

"Is okay, Sean. I'm okay."

Sean sighs, pulling back from him at last. "You're doing good at Chase's?"

"Oh, yes. Chase is such a good cook."

He tries not to get too pleased about that. It's been months since anybody ate his food.

"You two smell like each other," frowns Sean. "Are you, like - are you still planning to go back to Germany, Schneep?"

Well, there it is. Chase is pretty sure the slightly guilty look he received from the doc right before they came in the door was a sign that he's just as aware as Chase is that everybody's probably going to know they've been scenting each other occasionally, and sort of maybe accidentally shared a bed one night. No big deal, right? Just bros being bros?

He wishes there was a less obvious way to ask Schneep if this is still platonic than just, you know, asking him.

"Well, it's normal for werewolves to share their scent," Sean offers, and damn, he always knows just what to say to relax the paranoid human part of Chase that spends half its time cowering away from the new wolf part, which is kind of just trying to have a good time. To emphasize the point, Sean pushes his head fondly against Henrik's, rubbing his smell there for a moment. "Just be careful getting attached if you are going to have to go back to Germany. Fuck a break-up, losing pack is worse. Too instinctual and confusing. Wolves don't move countries for work."

"How do you know if you're pack with someone?" Henrik asks.

"Most of the time, you'll know. Wanting to take care of each other, be together a lot, eat together always, share scents, a feeling of being family, maybe really soon. Hey, Chase, you have kids. If you're wanting somebody else to help with your kids, you'll know that's pack. We can talk one on one if you ever have questions about somebody in specific. But you guys are being careful, right?"

Right. Totally. Not compulsively feeding Henrik already, no way.

Then the door opens again, and everything else is drowned out in a wave of fur and yowling. Chase jumps up in alarm as two wolves all but leap through the door, jumping up on Sean like they haven't seen him in a hundred years. He goes crashing back against the table and gives a war cry before he's tackling the nearest dog as best he can, considering its about twice his size. They collapse into a scrabbling mess of paws and hands.

Chase hasn't even had the time to full process it before the smaller wolf jumps at him instead, bounding onto the couch and putting its paws on his chest. He gasps but can't help but grin at the same time, reaching out nervously to intercept, holding its jaw away from him. The dog barks and nips at his hands, startling him a second time, but it doesn't hurt. After a second, he shoves at the wolf's chest, and it yelps and tackles him again, nipping at his ears as it tackles him onto the couch and makes him laugh.

Wow, the fur is unbelievably soft. He thinks that if you stripped the wolf of its fur, it'd be about half of its enormous size, because it's just that fluffy.

Wait, maybe 'it' isn't a nice pronoun to be using for a werewolf. He doesn't think he'd want someone to call him 'it' just because he was shifted.

“Jackie, Jackie!” Sean yelps, trying to keep the wolf from slamming against the table and knocking Sean's mug to the floor. They roll across the carpet, snapping and huffing at each other, the red wolf's tail wagging madly.

Which makes this... Marvin.

Chase grabs his fuzzy head and sits up a little, blinking at the wolf. Marvin has a patchy mix of cream and brown on his coat, his ears mismatched and his tail tipped in cream at the end. His smell is even more intense as a wolf, smokey as a fire made of greens, shot through with mint, as though someone was starting tea in the next room over.

And he smells like Jackie, too.

Marvin puffs a breath at him, allowing him to look, and darts his tongue out as though to lick him. Chase laughs and pulls his face back.

Jackie, having fully pinned Sean to the ground, possibly suffocating him beneath all that fur, declares his victory by getting up and pacing towards Henrik, wagging his tail and bowing to him playfully, his claws scrabbling against the ground. Chase sits straight up, protective for a second. Henrik's not comfortable around wolves.

The doc stares at Jackie, his arms held up against his heart as though he's clutching something there. Jackie snuffles pleasantly at him and gets up from his play position, coming a little closer and setting his jaw against Henrik's thigh, gazing up at him with big puppy dog eyes.

Henrik's hand unfolds from against his chest.

He reaches tentatively down and touches Jackie's head. Jackie closes his eyes, his tail thumping hard against the ground, and slowly, Henrik curls his fingers and scratches against the side of Jackie's ears. Jackie woofs and shoves himself closer to Henrik.

“Sehr weich,” mumbles Henrik. Jackie licks his palm.

“You two seem to be in a better mood,” comments Sean, groaning as he gets up off the ground, and Marvin and Jackie both start yapping like they're replying to him. Chase laughs again, watching Marvin slide off the couch and go start bothering Sean again, biting at his pants and his hand.

“Pests, pests!” protests Sean.

Jackie and Marvin bark at each other and circle back towards the door, looking between Sean and the handle pointedly.

“No, I have a class scheduled. Today is werewolf history. We're talking about – ”

“Awoo!” protests Jackie, throwing his head back. Marvin slumps against the floor as though struck dead by this terrible news.

“Stop it, we haven't had a normal class in weeks! Come sit down!”

It's a testament to Sean's determination that he gets through his PowerPoint that evening. Jackie eventually settles, deciding to slump completely over both Henrik and Chase on the couch, almost falling off it from the intensity of his relaxation and licking both of their hands in protest if they remove them from his body. Chase scratches his ribs and his ears, enjoying the sensation of thick soft fur.

Henrik just kind of leaves his hand on Jackie's side, gazing down at him every now and then. At one point, Jackie gets up to readjust and knocks their heads together; Henrik rubs back against his skull for a moment.

Chase thinks there's probably something good about that. There's been some kind of change between Marvin and Jackie, and whatever it is, it's brought calm back to the rest of them too. Henrik's fingers sink into Jackie's fur.

“At this point in time,” Sean is saying, and it's a damn good thing he's providing handouts, too, because Chase is having a hard time focusing. “We began to see legalization for public lycanthropy as well as some beginning protections against discrimination. However, as you might know, it's still technically legal for employers to discriminate against werewolves if the job involves working with children.”

Chase heart pangs like it's actually been impacted. He didn't know that.

“We're not allowed to work with kids?”

“It's up to the employer, unfortunately. Even in cases where werewolves are allowed to work with kids, the complaints from parents... it can be a real uphill battle.”

“It's like that in any job!” Marvin pipes up, and he's shifted back to human so fast that Chase hadn't even noticed it, swiping a throw blanket off the back of the couch and tugging it over himself. “Customer service, office jobs, any kind of social work, the stereotypes follow you everywhere.”

“Marvin is a good person to speak on this,” Sean offers, and that's all it takes to get Marvin started. Chase knows Sean has to give them the basics, and he's engaging, but something about Marvin's personal experiences strikes him differently.

“You have to legally disclose that you're a werewolf, too. Do you think that gets me a lot of call-backs? People think we're suited for labor and not much else. When I was still going to college, I had an academic advisor tell me she didn't think I should try to double-major because I wouldn't be able to handle it. And if you do something well, it's always 'you're so smart for a werewolf! You're so friendly for a werewolf!' Everybody's always thinking about it. We're less than one-percent of the population, so people think we should just stay in our lane, separate from the rest of them.”

“Tell us about progress, Marv,” Sean prompts him.

And Marvin knows everything about it, Chase is pretty sure. He names charities, political activists, international support groups, explains Sean's advocacy, tells them about every legal protection they have, and then, to top it all off, starts in on what needs to happen next. Extended legal protections, more people like Sean, more workers in government specifically there to make sure werewolves are represented and not discriminated against, reforms in local policing –

It's making Chase a little dizzy.

When he got into all this, he just wanted to get through it, learn control, and go back to his regular life. But he's starting to realize he just can't. It's not only that he has new instincts that are going to change how he interacts with the world forever, it's that, no matter how often he proves himself, he's always going to be looked at differently, by everyone, from now on.

That's scary. It's unfair. But... it's real, and it's important. Was he blind to all this before? Should he have been doing more, back when he was entertaining millions of people every day, and could have said anything, anytime, to make even one wolf feel less alone than he did when he got bit?

It's a new weight, that's what it is. But maybe it can be worth carrying.

“And now, Sean, since you've got me all worked up,” Marvin concludes. “It's time to go to the park.”

Jackie howls and falls off the couch, jumping towards the door.

“Guys,” Sean protests, his eyes sliding over Henrik. “Maybe it's better to have a quiet day. You know, just – ”

“Boring,” Marvin retorts. “You have been so strung out lately, Sean, you need a break. Let's take the newbies for a run! Don't you want to celebrate that Jackie's back?”

Sean wavers.

“Hey,” says Henrik. “Don't take it easy on me just because you think you hurt my feelings. We're fine, Sean. You're fine.”

Chase hadn't even noticed how subdued their rehabilitator's scent was until that moment, where a relief like rain and night air comes off him in a wave. He stares at the ground for a second, sucking in a breath, and when he lifts his head up again, his smile is lighter. More real.

“Chase?” he asks.

Chase shifts in place. “I... desperately want to go to the park,” he admits.

Marvin and Jackie erupt into celebration and Sean laughs. “Okay, okay, let me go get ready. We'll head out in a minute.”

Jackie grabs at Henrik's shirt and engages him in tug-of-war by the door, Marvin plopping down on the couch next to Chase with that blanket wrapped casually around him. Chase shakes his head at him, grinning.

“You two got things figured out,” he says.

Marvin grins, looking away as though embarrassed. “We needed to talk some shit out. It's not perfect, but it's progress.”

“Yeah.”

“What about the two of you? You smell like each other.”

Chase puffs out a sigh. “I know. We're having fun together, but it's not going anywhere long-term. I doubt we'll still be in touch once he goes back to Germany and finds a pack.”

Marvin regards him curiously for a second. “Would you want him to stay?”

“Come on, he's miserable here. He'll be better off back home.”

“You sure about that? What if he's still miserable and more alone?”

“There's nothing keeping him here, that's all I'm saying.”

“You two have made fast friends. You don't think that could mean something?”

“Well, it could mean something if he wasn't going back to Germany,” Chase says, suddenly angry.

Marvin looks at him for a long moment. Chase's anger fades away and is replaced with a little guilt for snapping.

Marvin ruffles his hair suddenly, shoving his head away.

“You two are already attached,” Marvin tells him. “If he goes now, it'll hurt whether or not your pack. I don't get the sense he'd be any better off in Germany – think he needs to come to terms with some shit here – but you two need to decide what you want. If he's going, you need to set up some boundaries. And if he's staying... you two would make good packmates.”

“How do you know?” asks Chase weakly.

Marvin shrugs. “You were both alone. Now you're taking care of each other. That's all pack is. Someone to care about you, no matter what, so you're not alone anymore.”

Henrik still won't shift at the park, but Chase does. It's different now, though. His wolf won't leave Henrik alone, especially not with so many other wolves nearby. They walk along the path around the park while Jackie and Marvin and Sean sprint in circles and tussle in the dirt, and Henrik rests his hand against Chase's soft head.

He's completely limp with Alpha's teeth around his neck.

Don't move. Don't move. Don't move.

There's no other thought left in his head. Life has narrowed down to pure instinct, and in this moment, there is nothing but submission.

He wants to whimper, but he won't. Wants to scrabble against the ground and run away. Wants to be in his nest, with Alpha smelling happy instead of furious, licking his wounds instead of creating them.

Don't move.

Alpha growls one more time, and then drops him onto the ground. Still, he doesn't move. It's several long minutes before Alpha disappears, trotting off into some other part of the territory.

He can't smell anything but his own blood, leaking into his dark fur. The adrenaline is coming down, and it leaves him shaking. Dragging himself to his paws hurts, not just because of the new wound, but just because he's so tired, and all he wants to do is sleep.

There's a vague memory of a loft bed with warm, red sheets, but it feels far away, or maybe like it never existed. He doesn't remember.

He limps to his piece of the territory, a mix of cardboard boxes and a couple metal sheets propped up for some sense of security, a small, dark space for him to hide in. He flinches as shouting starts up in the distance. Alpha and Second, loud, loud, loud. Always shouting when they're humans. Always yapping when they're dogs.

He grooms himself methodically in his little cave, once, twice, three times. Glass shatters in the distance and his Second howls, scrambling away. He pants, ears flat, and grooms again.

A warm body, slight and human, crawls into his space moments later, sharing the scent of blood with him. He curls around himself, and then so does Second, laying across his body in a heap of skin and familiar smell. There's water on Second's face, though he doesn't know where it came from. He reaches out to lick at it, finding it salty in flavor.

“I'm sorry, JJ,” whispers his Second, fingers digging into his fur and scratching at his ears. “I'm so sorry. But I'll make it right. I don't know what to do anymore. But I will make it right, I swear. Once we get everything sorted, we'll go away together, and we'll never have to be human again, and Alpha won't be so angry all the time.”

He doesn't know what the words mean, but the hands on his ears are nice. He nips warmly at his Second and rolls over on his stomach, rumbling.

Second falls asleep there against him, a heater at his side. In the other room, he can smell Alpha pacing. Storms, blood, fury.

JJ grooms himself again. Black fur comes out between his teeth, leaving bald patches on his thin back.

#werewolf au #bee writes #tw distress #tw discussions of past abuse #i'm thinking this is about the halfway point in the story? yeh it's a long one #thanks for reading!!

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