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Chapter Text

“I’m really starting to regret letting you look through case files,“ Lafrey huffed and tugged at the file folder in Max’s hand.

“But--” Max started.

She pulled harder when he didn’t release it. “If this man was a werewolf our other field agents would know about it and he would have been dealt with already.”

Barry leaned over and muttered to Annie. “Yeah, permanently.”

Max frowned at that before diving back in. “I just think we‘ve missed a lot. All these surrounding disappearances and this one guy says he saw--” He tried again.

“No.” Lafrey pointed a finger at him. “You’re done. You and your partner already have a case involving…” She glanced at Annie, who mouthed the answer at her while handing her the new file. “Radioactive moss.” She smiled impatiently. “So have fun with that,” she finished while turning and making a beeline to her office.

“You just want to meet a werewolf,” Leroy groused as he slid up next to Max.

He cocked his head. “Don’t you?”

“No.” Leroy started towards the elevator. “I don’t want anything to do with something that,” he held up one finger. “Eats me.” He held up another finger. “Turns me into something.” He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Max was following him. “I’m pretty sure radioactive moss won’t do that.”

Max shrugged and then started flipping through the file. “Unless…”

“That’d be the worst superhero origin story.” Leroy shook his head as he entered the elevator.

Max’s head snapped up, eyes shining with the excitement of finding another tidbit of nerdery about Leroy. “Moss Man,” he said, deepening his voice.

“What would those superpowers even be?”

“I guess all the exciting powers of moss.” Max hit the top floor button. “So, hey, want me to come over tonight and we’ll have a superhero movie marathon?”

Leroy didn‘t even bother turning to look at him. “Absolutely not.”

“Right, yeah, that’s cool, cause I have so much stuff to do that I forgot about anyway,” Max nodded as the doors closed.

Chapter Text

In theory, Leroy thought that Max finding out his home address wouldn’t be a complete disaster. Eventually, he’d stop casually suggesting that he’d come over and just show up for an impromptu “best friends” hangout. Maybe with a pack of weird, imported beer that Leroy has never heard of and a few Bigfoot documentaries or classic Doctor Who episodes where Max would blather on about how dimensional space-time travel could theoretically work. He was prepared for that. He was even, maybe, okay with that.

What he wasn’t prepared for was Max banging on his door in the middle of the night. And he definitely was not okay with him standing on his front porch looking like he‘d been dragged through hell and back.

He looked damp and rumpled with mud in splattered patches on his pants and clumped on his shoes, streaks of it across his face and through his hair.

Max shifted under Leroy’s gaze as it roamed over his body, pausing at the scratches on his face and moving down, past the rips in his shirt, to settle on the blood staining his hands.

“What the-” Leroy couldn’t even vocalize the level of incredulousness he felt.

“I think I fucked up," Max blurted out, the words falling from his mouth like he had been holding them back only long enough for Leroy to answer the door. His eyes were wide and wild, pupils nearly blacking out the whites.

“What…?” Leroy tried again, but there was just so much to ask about.

"I…" Max paused, shrinking back a little. "Don't get mad."

Leroy folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. Chances were there was a good reason to get mad now.

"Right, yeah, okay." Max nodded as he realized how it sounded and licked his lips. "Unreasonable expectation." He swallowed then, taking a breath before continuing. His face went through a complicated set of moves like he was phrasing and rephrasing what he was going to say. It ended with him squeezing his eyes shut and mumbling “Paul Grunwald."

There was definitely no not getting angry now. “Damn it, Max.”

“I know what Lafrey said, but I just,” His hands fluttered against his sides. “He’s definitely a werewolf,” Max assured Leroy earnestly.

Leroy’s focus drifted back to the blood. “Man, did you kill Paul Grunwald?”

“What? No!” Max looked aghast at the very accusation. “I.. sort of, maybe, followed him a little… and then, maybe, we kind of had a… tussle?” He sounded unsure, his voice rising in pitch as he recounted his night of light stalking and street brawling.

Leroy was pretty sure that whatever went on was less “tussle” and actually more like Max getting thrown down a hill or something, but he didn’t say anything about it he just raised an eyebrow for Max to continue.

“He had a little freak out when I told him I knew what he was.” Max raised a hand to stop Leroy from saying anything. “He’s obviously scared, Leroy, and he needs help…” He trailed off, eyes pleading.

There was a sudden bang from his neighbor's door opening and Leroy flinched.

“What’s going on? Is everything all right, Leroy honey?” Mrs. Lao, a sweet, nosy, grandmother of three, leaned over her porch railing, squinting into the darkness.

He didn’t need this kind of attention from his neighbors so he yanked Max inside, away from the prying eyes of the old lady. “Everything’s just fine, Mrs. Lao.” He waved and plastered on his best ‘nothing‘s wrong’ smile, the one he used to use to diffuse interest from reporters looking for a juicy tidbit about the latest murder.

Max leaned back out the door and gave a quick wave too before Leroy smacked his blood covered hand and shoved him back inside.

“You don’t get to wave at Mrs. Lao.” He shut the door firmly behind him. “Coming around, looking like this. I live in a nice neighborhood. You’re lucky she didn’t have her glasses on.”

Max waited nervously, shifting from foot to foot and tugging at a blood-stained sleeve. "There's, uh, one other thing." He started tentatively, worrying his bottom lip.

Mud was getting on his foyer rug and Leroy sighed. "Tell me later." He grabbed Max's shoulder and turned him, pushing him forward.

"Oh, tour first, right." Max smiled back over his shoulder, eyes crinkling around the edges. "You have a lovely home, Leroy."

"Yes, I do.” Leroy pushed him to get moving. “Don’t touch anything. And no,” He added. “This is not a tour." He steered Max to the guest bathroom. “See what you can do about…” He gestured to all of Max. “This. Because you are not getting in my car like that.”

Max smiled at Leroy’s apparent interest in the case and slipped into the bathroom. He leaned back out a second later, grinning even wider. “You know, I didn’t take you for a tiny, decorative soap kinda guy, but now that I see it I am really into it, Leroy.”

Leroy leans in close, lips almost brushing Max’s ear. “Decorative soaps are for guests only.”

He pulled back to see a pout where Max‘s grin had been. “I’m a guest.”

“No, you’re a guy from work who came to my house in the middle of the night covered in mud and blood and I don‘t even know what because he disobeyed orders.”

There wasn’t any real venom behind that so Max smiled again playfully. “I think I’m going to use the tiny seahorse to wash all this werewolf blood off.”

Leroy narrowed his eyes. “That man’s not a werewolf.”

“Oh, he definitely is,” Max assured him.

Chapter Text

It took Max almost twenty minutes to come out of the bathroom, but when he did he was, relatively, mud and blood free. Leroy didn’t bother looking to see what kind of mess was left. He just directed Max out the door and to the car.

Max shifted in the passenger seat, leaning forward to squint at a street sign. “I think it‘d be best to start at Paul‘s house.” He sounded entirely too pleased that Leroy was on board with his plans.

“No.”

“No?” Max blinked at him. “You think there’s a better place? Should we retrace my steps?” He mulled that over. “You’re right, Leroy. He might have my scent. He might not have even gone back home.”

“No,” Leroy repeated, stopping Max from any more speculating. “Because we’re not looking for Paul.”

“We’re not?” Max watched a couple of trees go past the window. “But we have to find--”

“No, Max,” Leroy’s grip tightened on the wheel as he sighed. “I’m not spending the night chasing some crazy that you’re obsessed with.” He paused at a stop sign, glancing down both sides of the empty street before continuing. “I’m taking you home and we going to forget that any of this happened.”

Max stared at him with big, wounded eyes. “You don’t believe me.” He swallowed. “I thought… I thought we were partners.”

“We are,” Leroy assured him. “Which is why I can’t let you go off the deep end on this one. And why I’m not just immediately taking you to the Bureau to tell Lafrey what you did. Partners look out for each other, even when it doesn‘t seem like it.”

“But,“ e said, sounding desperately smug. “I can prove it.”

Leroy didn‘t want to hear it. It was like Max was a dog with a bone. “Your gut feel--”

“He bit me.” Max made it sound like he was laying down a royal flush.

Leroy slammed on the brakes throwing them both forward. An awful feeling clawed at the back of his neck, a weird mix of anger and frustration and ‘can you believe this shit‘-ittude. He turned fully towards Max eyebrows creeping towards the ceiling. “Did you let a wolfman bite you just so you could prove you were right?”

Max frowned. “I didn’t let him bite me.”

“Where.”

“We were in this… I guess it’s a park? There’s a lot of grass there, kinda hilly. It’s over by 8th and Elm. Maybe? Is it Oak?” Max paused to consider the confusing aspects of tree-based street naming.

Leroy closed his eyes and took a breath. “Not where were you. Where did he bite you.”

“Oh,“ He jerkily rolled up his sleeve and practically shoved his forearm in Leroy’s face. “See?”

Leroy grabbed Max’s arm so he could examine the bite. It looked bruised like Paul had grabbed Max too hard and Leroy could just make out a crescent pattern of broken skin with two, dark, deeper looking indents near the top. It wasn’t really what he thought the hallmarks of a werewolf menacing would look like. Leroy poked at it and held firm when Max tried to pull away. “You saw him turn into a wolf?”

“Yes. Well, not… he wasn’t,” Max tripped over the words and tried again to pull his arm back. “Technically he hadn’t fully turned yet.”

“But he was turning?” Leroy squeezed Max’s arm, watching him squirm. “You saw fur?”

“He was definitely going to turn.” He looked less confident by the second. “Leroy,” he whined, tugging at his arm.

Leroy dropped his arm with a shake of his head. “You let a run of the mill human weirdo bite you.”

Max pulled his arm close to his chest, curling his fingers gently around the bite. “You know, I really thought if I came to you with proof-”

“This isn’t proof, Max,” Leroy snapped at him. “This is…” He didn’t even know how to finish. It was irresponsible and obsessive and dangerous. He sighed and turned away.

Max deflated. The inside of the car was quiet for a minute. Leroy heard Max swallow and, as he glanced at him sideways, watched him press his fingers to his eyes.

“Fine. Take me home,” he said softly.

“Max…” Leroy almost reached out when Max turned towards the window, blankly staring at the darkness outside. Instead, he eased his foot off the brake and continued down the street.

Max was quiet for a few minutes, forlornly watching the houses pass by, but then he began to shift in the passenger seat, fingers twisting back and forth against his pants. He rolled his shoulders and reached for the control dial to turn up the heat.

Leroy reached over and readjusted the dial to where it had been. “You don’t just mess with a man’s settings.”

“But it’s cold in here,” Max complained, slumping in the seat. “I’m cold. You’re not cold?”

“I’m not cold,” Leroy shrugged.

He folded his arms across his chest. “You’re not cold because you’re,” Max snapped his mouth shut, glancing at Leroy. “Wearing a jacket,” he finished carefully. He shivered, curling tighter in on himself. “Just so you know, it’s freezing in here.”

He watched as Max ground the heel of his palm into his forehead and then Leroy leaned forward and cranked the heat.

It didn’t seem to help. Max continued to fidget, fingers rubbing at his sleeve, dragging the material back and forth over his arm. “My werewolf bite itches,” he whined and then reached for the control dial again, turning the heat completely off this time.

“Maybe we should get it checked out? You don’t know how dirty a man’s mouth is,” Leroy admonished, a kind of concern fluttering in his belly.

Max just rubbed the back of his neck and rolled the window down halfway, letting a breeze hit his flushed face. When Leroy turned onto his block Max rolled it down the rest of the way and leaned out.

“Okay, now that’s just-” Leroy stopped when Max swatted at him.

“I think that’s Paul,” he said, pulling back in and unbuckling his seat belt.

Leroy pulled to a stop and peered out the windshield, eyes scanning the darkness until he noticed a thin figure creeping around the bushes outside Max’s apartment. “You told this guy where you lived?”

Max stopped trying to untangle himself from his belt. “What? No,” he huffed. “Why would I?”

“I don’t know. You told me where you lived the first day we met.”

“That was different,” Max made a dismissive noise. “You had to drive me home.” He finally got the belt sorted and stumbled out of the car.

“Yeah and I wish I hadn’t,” Leroy called out, but Max ignored him to call out to Paul. Leroy watched Paul freeze and pivot to face Max, his head tilted and a smile stretching across his face.

Max’s hands were fluttering as he talked, but they stilled when Paul closed the gap between them and wrapped his own hand around the arm he had bitten. Leroy saw Max wince when Paul tugged him closer, leaning to press his face against Max‘s neck, chest heaving. “Shit,” Leroy swore as he climbed out of the car, shutting the door with an authoritative bang.

Paul’s gaze slid to Leroy, his dark eyes glittering in the meager street lamp light. He pulled back slightly, straightening his spine and stiffening his shoulders. His grip on Max tightened as he looked Leroy up and down and then he slowly turned back to Max. “Is he from the Bureau too?” He sounded exasperated, like it was a major inconvenience.

“He’s my partner,” Max said softly.

“Look, man,” Leroy reached over and put a comforting hand on Paul’s shoulder. “We just want to talk.”

Paul’s head snapped up, eyes now a bright, unnatural, yellow. “The Bureau never just talks,” he spit, making a scratchy hissing noise that stood the hair on the back of Leroy’s neck up. He shoved Max into Leroy’s chest and then bolted, practically vaulting over a nearby fence and disappearing into the suburban night.

“Okay,” Leroy said, shaking himself out of a stunned silence. “That guy’s a werewolf.” He looked down at Max, wide-eyed and pale, still pressed against his chest, staring in the direction Paul had gone, and thought about apologizing for not believing him. “You told him about the Bureau?”

Max raised his face to Leroy. “I… mentioned it. Like, hey, I’m with the government, everything‘s going to be okay,” he explained.

“No one thinks it’s okay when you say you‘re with the government.”

“Well when I told him I didn’t know he thought the Bureau Underground killed werewolves,” Max pulled away, a frown creeping across his face. “They don’t, do they?”

“Naw.” Leroy shook his head.

“But we’ve killed a lot of… things.” Max gestured to himself and Leroy. “And Barry did say permanently earlier…” He looked at Leroy desperately.

Not wanting to get deep into a moral quandary about monster rights Leroy set a steady hand on Max‘s shoulder. “They probably just lock them up forever.”

“Right,” Max sighed, absently scratching at his arm. “That‘d make sense. You can’t just have them running loose.” He started to scratch harder and then froze. He slowly looked down at his arm and then back up at Leroy.

They stared at each other, cold realization flowing between them.

“You think he’s definitely a werewolf?” Max choked out.

Leroy nodded.

“And he… bit me.” His breath hesitated.

Leroy nodded again.

Max swallowed. “So I‘m…” He swayed as it fully him.

Leroy grabbed his shoulders to keep him steady. “You’re gonna be fine.”

Max blew out a breath, his world spinning. “I’m a werewolf,” He stumbled, knees going weak.

Leroy guided him to the steps in front of his apartment and eased him down. “You’re not one yet.” He sat down next to Max, staring out into the darkness. “We’re going to find Paul and fix this.”

Chapter Text

They did a sweep of Max’s neighborhood first, while Max quietly fiddled with a button on his shirt.

“Maybe he went back home,” Leroy suggested eventually. He glanced over at Max, worry spiking through his chest when he saw his ashen face. “You doing okay?“

“Stop the car.”

“Do you see him?” Leroy leaned forward to look out the front window.

“No, I’m…” Max put his hand over his mouth. “I think I’m…” he heaved.

“Not in the car, man,” Leroy warned as he pulled off to the side.

Max hurriedly shoved the door open and leaned out, stomach spilling onto the pavement. He gagged and groaned.

Leroy leaned over and awkwardly rubbed his back. He could feel the muscles bunching and twisting with each shudder.

Max heaved again. He hung there for a few moments, breathing heavily, and then let Leroy tug him back into the car. He melted into the seat, flushed and sweating.

“Hang on,” Leroy said quietly and then went to the trunk and rummaged around. He returned with a bottle of water. He opened it and handed it to Max, keeping a hand close when he saw how hard Max’s own hand was shaking.

“Thanks,” Max’s eyes flicked to Leroy’s face before looking back to the car floor. He pulled the door shut. “Sorry about that, “ he winced like he expected Leroy to be mad with him about it.

“No,” Leroy eased back onto the road. “You just let me know whenever, okay?”

They pulled up outside Paul Grunwald’s house. A cozy looking one story in a quiet, woodsy part of town.

Max trembled miserably in the passenger seat, face pressed against the cool window glass.

“You stay here,” Leroy said, giving Max’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “I’m going to go check it out.”

Max grabbed his hand. “No,” he ground out. “No, what if he…” Max trailed off. “I’m fine.” He took a deep breath and drug himself out of the car, hanging onto the frame for support.

“Oh yeah,” Leroy said, rounding the front of the car and giving Max a once over. “You’re fine.” He reached forward, brushing a few sweaty strands of hair back, and pressed his palm against Max’s forehead. “You’re burning up, Max. You can hardly stand.”

Max sagged against his palm, eyes fluttering shut. “I’m not,” He swallowed. “I’m not letting you go alone.”

Leroy looked at Max, shaking and pale, arms wrapped around his middle, curse of the werewolf flowing through his veins and couldn’t bring himself to force him back into the car. “Okay,“ he resigned, but then he pulled off his jacket. “And here.”

Max’s eyebrows raised as Leroy draped the jacket around his trembling shoulders, staring up at Leroy like he was seeing something amazing and precious. “Thanks,“ Max sighed, Leroy’s lingering body heat seeping into his aching muscles.

He stuck close to Leroy’s side as they walked up to the house. It was dark inside and quite outside, their footsteps lightly crunching across the grass sounding heavy and ominous to Max‘s ears. Leroy took a moment to peer inside a side window. “I don’t think he’s home,” he reported, frustrated.

Max curled deeper into Leroy’s jacket, fingers pulling it closed around himself. “Leroy,” he gasped, a stab of pain shooting through his body. His knees gave out on him and he hit the grass with a hard thump.

“Max,” Leroy dove to catch him before he fell the whole way, arms wrapping around his partner.

“I think I‘m,” Max groaned, pressing his face into Leroy’s shirt. “I think maybe…” He tried to push himself out of Leroy’s grasp. “You need to get out of here,” hit breath hitched with a pained cry.

Leroy shook his head. “No, I’m not--”

“You have to, Leroy.” Max tried to pull away again, but Leroy held tight. “When I turn…” A choked sob wrenched from his throat. “I don’t want to eat your face, Leroy.” He turned away.

“Hey,” Leroy said firmly. “Look at me.” He gently turned Max back to him. “You would never--”

“Leroy.” He groaned as another blot of pain shot through him and dropped his head against Leroy’s shoulder. “I am so sorry.”

“No, Max.” He cupped Max’s face between his palms. “I know you. It doesn’t matter what you turn into you don’t stop being you. And you’re sweet and gentle and you would never hurt me. I believe that.” He stared into Max’s damp eyes.

“Leroy,” Max’s breath caught, emotion flickering across his pained face.

“And even if we can’t fix this, it doesn’t matter.” Leroy held Max tighter. “I’m going to be there for you. Every month. Squeaky toys, pee pads, raw steak, whatever you need.” Leroy promised. “Because we’re partners.”

“Aw, that is really sweet.”

Leroy’s head jerked up as Paul slid out of the shadows, the same grin plastered across his face as before.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Paul continued as he stepped closer. “But,” he patted his chest. “It really gets me right here. Almost makes me feel bad about what’s going to happen.” His teeth glowed in the moonlight. “Almost.”

With a sudden surge of strength, Max pushed Leroy back. “Stay behind me, Leroy. I’ll fight him off.”

Paul chuckled. “Don’t think you’re really up to it.”

“I will be,” Max raised his chin definitely. “Think your bite can make a partner eat another partner‘s face?” He licked his lips, puffing out his chest with bravado. “Well, that’s not the kind of werewolf Max Jennifer is going to be.”

Paul glanced uncertainly between Max and Leroy. “Seriously, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“He’s talking about how your days of werewolfing are over, Paul.” Leroy put a hand on Max’s shoulder.

A snicker bubbled up Paul‘s throat. “You think I’m a werewolf,” he doubled over laughing. “Oh, that’s…” He wiped a corner of his eye. “I was worried that the Bureau was onto me, but you two.” Paul's tongue flicked out over his lips. “They probably won’t even look for you idiots.”

Max frowned. “So you’re not…”

“No,” Paul hissed, voice roughening like nails scratching across burlap. “I’m not even close.” His face split horizontally, two fangs folding out as six more pairs of dark eyes blinked open across his forehead.

Max and Leroy scrambled backward as extra sets of legs started to crack and snap from Paul’s back.

Max leaned back against Leroy, eyes wide. “My fever’s high enough that I’m hallucinating werewolf Paul as a spider creature, right?”

“No, man,” Leroy pulled Max farther back with him. “I’m pretty sure Paul’s not a werewolf.”

They wrapped their arms around each other as the two front legs closed in on them.

And then Paul Grunwald exploded.

Leroy shielded Max from a shower of spider chunks raining down. When the deluge stopped he tentatively glanced up.

“Captain?”

Lafrey stood where Paul had been, giant blast rifle draped around her shoulders and a sharp, displeased look on her face.

Leroy immediate pushed Max behind him. “Don’t kill Max.”

“Why on earth do you think I’m going to kill Agent Jennifer?” Lafrey asked, aghast at the suggestion.

“Well, the gun,” Leroy gestured at the huge firearm still gripped tightly in front of her.

“And you killed Paul,” Max piped up quietly.

“Yeah,” Leroy nodded. “You killed Paul. And just because he was a bad werespider doesn‘t mean Max is going to be.” He turned to Max. “Even though the spider thing is a lot creepier, like so much creepier,” he emphasized. “I’m still here, okay? We’ll have to rethink the squeaky toy and everything, but we’ll figure it out.”

“Okay,” Lafrey swung the gun around to her back, putting her hands up to show she no longer had it. “I don‘t know what all that‘s about, but I killed “Paul” because he was an Imorabuna, a spider like creature that envenomates people, waits for their organs to liquefy, and then eats them.”

“Oh,“ Max wilted, sinking into Leroy’s arms, eyes losing focus. “That sounds… way worse.”

Lafrey looked between the two of them mind working to piece everything in front of her together. Her eyebrows went up, horrified. ”Did that thing bite you?”

Chapter Text

Lafrey charged through the mostly empty bureau. Leroy followed carefully behind her, arms full, Max‘s burning face pressed against his neck.

Annie rushed up to them, hand pressed over her mouth. “Oh god, Max,” she reached out and tentatively brushed her fingers through his hair before she steeled her features, turning all business. She led them into the science lab and gestured to one of the dissecting tables.

Leroy hesitated, an image flashing through his mind of Max being cracked open so that the scientists could take pictures of his liquefied organs while drinking coffee and laughing about how this one was going up on the wall of agent misadventures. An impatient sigh from Lafrey forced him to gently lower Max down onto the cold metal.

“Here,” Annie moved to the other side of the table and helped to hold Max up as Leroy unwrapped Max from his jacket. He folded the leather up as a makeshift pillow. As they eased him back Max groaned and curled away from the unpleasant coolness seeping into his feverish body.

Annie rushed to the sink, coming back with a damp folded cloth and pressed it across Max‘s forehead.

“Barry,” Lafrey snapped. “Hurry it up.”

Barry popped in from the other room pushing a rolling cart with syringes spread out across the top. “Right.” He jauntily snapped on a pair of gloves.

“Come on,” Lafrey ordered. She placed a hand on Leroy’s shoulder to pull him away from the table.

“I really think I should stay here,” Leroy said, glancing down at Max’s fingers gripping his sleeve.

Lafrey leaned in close. “Your partner will be fine, Agent Wright, but we have to have a little talk. And you’ve got about a two inch stack of paperwork to fill out because of this.”

Max was staring at him, eyes glassy. Leroy gently pried Max’s fingers free and set his hand on the table. “I’m just going to be down the hall okay?” He patted Max on the shoulder and locked eyes with Annie. “You take care of my partner.”

She nodded, a tight smile on her face. “Nothing we haven’t dealt with before,” she said, almost too casually.

The last thing he heard as he followed Lafrey out was Barry.

“Fun fact: the venom the Imorabuna uses is not all that dissimilar to the brown recluse.”

There was a thorough dressing down by Lafrey. Leroy had to come up with multiple answers what the hell he had been thinking and what the hell Max had been thinking, sit through a nearly forty minute speech about how entirely against protocol the entire night had been and how lucky they were that she had reviewed the case file and realized what Paul Grunwald really was, and Lafrey hadn’t been exaggerating about the two inch stack of paperwork either.

Leroy rushed through it as much as he could, but it still took him a few hours to complete it all. He almost thought that Lafrey had done it so that he wasn’t hovering around while they worked on Max, but he also knew how the government loved their forms in triplicate, so he couldn‘t be sure. All he knew is that he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Lafrey’s ire ever again.

He rolled his shoulders as he stood, back protesting over a sleepless night topped off with paperwork, and left the stack on his desk.

When he leaned into the science lab his heart sank. It was empty. His breath caught and his grip tightened against the door frame.

“Hey,” Annie tapped him on the shoulder. When he looked at her, eyes shining, she smiled sympathetically before quickly explaining. “He’s fine,” She cocked her head. “He was getting a little twitchy about being on the dissection table so we moved him into the break room.”

Tension uncoiled through Leroy’s body as he followed Annie, but the last little bit didn’t leave until he saw Max, crammed onto the tiny break room couch, having a, from what Leroy could see, much more casual chat with Lafrey than Leroy himself had gotten. Leroy’s jacket was bundled in his lap, his hands buried in it. He still looked washed out, faint color smudged across his cheeks as he talked to Lafrey, but he wasn’t writhing in pain so Leroy counted it as a win.

As soon as Max saw Leroy he smiled and sat up a little straighter.

“So, Agent Jennifer,” Lafrey tapped him on the leg to get his attention back to her. “While I admire your instincts, don’t do it again.”

Max had the decency to look chastised. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“And I don’t want to see you around here for a few days.” She wagged a finger at him but gave Leroy a small smile as she left.

“So,” Leroy patted Max on the shoulder. “When can this guy go home?”

Barry looked up from behind his laptop. “Hmm? Oh, you are free to leave whenever.”

Max blinked. “Seriously?”

“Yup. You could have left an hour ago.” Barry perked up. “I thought maybe you wanted to stay. Play a game or two of Parcheesi before the office really gets cranking.”

“No,” Max shook his head. “You said I almost died, Barry. You don’t need to monitor me?”

Barry waved the suggestion off. “You’re fine now.” He paused. “Relatively.”

“Relative to what?”

“To being dead,” Barry answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Max opened his mouth and then closed it without saying anything, his hands bunching Leroy‘s jacket in a futile attempt to respond..

“Okay,” Leroy took over. “We’re gonna go.” He helped ease Max off the couch. “I’ll make sure you don’t die,” he promised quietly.

“Suit yourselves.” Barry shrugged. “I also have Chinese checkers,” he called out after them as they made their escape.

Max raised his face up towards the morning sun as soon as they got outside the hanger factory doors. He turned towards Leroy, squinting in the bright glare and awkwardly handed Leroy his jacket back with a mumbled, almost embarrassed, thank you. “And you don’t have to give me a ride home or anything.” He raised his arm, wrapped in a thick gauze bandage. “I’m relatively not dead, so I can probably manage the bus.” He looked out over the parking lot. “You probably have stuff to do…” He trailed off and Leroy joined him in looking out over the parking lot.

“Lafrey gave me a few days off too, so I was thinking that maybe we’d, I don’t know, hang out… at my place.”

“Really?”

“As long as your not weird about it.”

Max dialed down his enthusiasm. “Not weird. Got it.”

As they walked towards Leroy’s car Max perked up again. “Pretty cool how I was almost a werewolf, huh?”

“You weren’t anywhere close to being a werewolf,” Leroy reminded him.

“Right, but could we tell people I was? Because that sounds way better.”

Leroy sucked in a sharp breath of air. “But I was all ready to nickname you Spiderman.”

Max’s eyes couldn’t get any wider. “Were you? Cause you still can. Do you think the rest of the office will pick it up? Would they think it’s cool that I was bitten by a possible werespider? Did Annie think it was cool?”

Leroy opened the car door for him. “I don’t know, man. I was mostly doing it because you look like that movie guy. You know. Toby.”

Max‘s mouth dropped. “I do not?”

Leroy shrugged as he walked around to the driver’s side. “You both have brown hair,” he offered, like that explained it.

Max shook his head and then stopped. “I guess it’s not the worst comparison.”

“Just like Toby in Spiderman 3.” Leroy grinned as he slid into his seat.

“Okay,” Max faked a laugh as he sat down. “Very funny.” He looked over at Leroy’s smiling face as they pulled out of the parking lot. “You were serious about calling me Spiderman though, right?”