Chapter Text
Life ain’t never been easy for him being a werewolf.
Raised to be vicious it was hard to be anything but and with Merle as his main influence in life it wasn’t long until the two of them were in trouble with the law. Humans caught them, snared them by those fucking poles and dragged them down until they were caged. He remembers fighting, snarling at the damned cops who’d caught them and hating when the judge had given them a choice.
The pound or giving themselves over to service.
Merle had been in the pound before, he remembers the way the other weres would kill, bite and snarl from behind their bar, unafraid and forced to wear shock collars to keep them under control of the humans. Merle picks service and is shipped off to the army.
It’s his first real offence, the judge looks on him kindly, tells him he’s being given a chance not to become his brother and to make something of himself. He finds it fucking degrading but he doesn’t say that, instead he bows his head and accepts the words as if he doesn’t want to chew her face off. He was to be placed under house arrest of one of the officers he’d been caught by and made to help work at his station. Apparently being a small station they didn’t have what they’d needed when their county had expanded and apparently with drug use and violence on the rise they were in need of a Lycan unit.
He was going to be it.
King’s County wasn’t actually as much of a shithole as he’d expected and living on the outskirts of the place he’s surprised he hadn’t noticed it before. The cop’s place is nice enough but it takes time for him to settle in to his place at both his new home and on the force. But time passes, everything falls into place and now here he was, laid out on the backseat of the cop car as his partners bicker in the front.
Rick and Lori were having problems again, Shane was talking about his latest squeeze and he was trying to get some rest in the midday sun. They’ve been working together for years, the two in front had been friends since forever and somehow he’d gone from their burden to their friend and now their partner. Even if they were the assholes who had caught he and Merle in the first place.
Living with Shane wasn’t actually as bad as he’d thought it was going to be. For a human he wasn’t that bad really. Shane made decent enough food, didn’t complain too much about his shedding and the evenings they spent together drinking and watching shitty TV were pretty good fun. Most of the force weren’t exactly pleased with his presence, werewolves were always seen to be unreliable and vicious, but Shane didn’t mind working with him and treated him fairly considering the circumstances. He knew neither Rick nor Shane had wanted to be responsible for him, but they’d taken the role on, and now the three of them had become quite the team.
Daryl didn’t like admitting to anyone that he actually liked his job. It was meant to be a punishment, an alternative to time in the big cage and he wasn’t meant to enjoy it. But when it came down to it he actually liked what he did.
His responsibilities were to help out mainly with scent detection cases, drug searches, manhunts and missing persons. Scent based evidence was his forte and being able to communicate easily with the human side of his team meant he was better at it then the K9 unit they had. King’s County wasn’t exactly the most thrilling place to work, but he did his best and now a few years down the line he was by far the best tracker they had. Of course he’d had to go through the training like everyone else, both human and canine, but he knew he was still seen as threatening and a loose canon.
Sighing to himself he leans back against the seats, arms folded behind his head as he lets his feet stick out the rear window, making the most of their lunch stop to relax. He liked his job, he liked his new home, he liked his roommate and he liked not being in the pound. He even got to be part of the protection of his partners, taking down the bad guys and using his lycan side to his advantage and showing what he was made of. It was fun, he got enough money to be able to afford half decent things and he had real friends for the first time in his life, people he would even consider his pack, but only to himself.
Rick and Shane laugh in the front seat, mocking each other, talking about women, problems and stupid things that happen in relationships. Scoffing a little he stretches, arching against the back seat with a yawn and shifting to kick at the back of Shane’s seat. “They way you talk it’s no wonder none of your women want to be with you longer than one night.” He points out, getting a huff from Shane and a laugh from Rick.
“Hey looks who’s talking.” Shane turns in his seat, glaring at him a little. “I ain’t seen you with anyone since I’ve known you.” He points out.
Growling in the back of his throat Daryl gives a half hearted shrug, not exactly offended over being single when his chances were limited anyway. “Ain’t my fault there ain’t no decent bitches around these parts. Not like I ain’t been looking.” Werewolves were few and far between but living with humans inside of a township made the numbers dwindle to practically nothing. He was the only one so far as he knew, most wolves preferred to live outside in the open, ranging in large territories and packs mingling with each other. So separating himself by moving in with Shane meant his love life had taken a hit for it.
Rick laughs a little, leaning back to look at him in the rear view mirror as he speaks. “Oh please you haven’t scented a single hydrant, you ain’t looking.”
“I think you’re too attached to your pillow.” Shane joins in the heckling with a grin, making him sit up and growl at the implications. “The amount you’ve been humping that thing I don’t think you even need a mate; you already got one.”
“Hey!” He snaps, lunging forwards in his seat to grab at Shane, aware that it’s all a joke but sometimes they liked to push things too far. Growling a little he tries to tip Shane’s food into his lap, ignoring Rick’s laughter as he and Shane half wrestle and half shove at each other. The human grabs at his shirt, ruffles his hair and chuckles, not scared of him at all even as he snaps at him playfully.
“Lycan unit, we’ve got a situation on Clover street, requesting your assistance.”
The radio interrupts and Rick shoves him back to the back seat so he can grab at it. Immediately Daryl is listening, ears pricked, scrabbling onto his knees and wanting to know exactly what they were getting into. This was the thing he loved about the job, the adrenaline rush and not knowing what to expect every day. “Missing person? Weapons check? Cash hunt? Tracking?” All of them are fun and meant he got to be the hero of the day since it was something humans weren’t so good at.
“Lycan unit here, what’s the situation?” Rick shoves him back again, a palm to his muzzle and gently nudging him away from panting excitedly into the radio. He can’t help it, right now the excitement was building and he knows the humans want it to be something good too. Living in a small county was nice, but it meant they never really got anything too exciting, but today might be that day.
“Busted a drug den, need the place searched properly and the three guys we caught too.”
Snorting to himself he slumps back into his seat, unimpressed with the answer. “Eurgh boring, we’re never going to get on one of those cop shows.” Shane laughs a little before reaching back to pat at his head, consoling him through the annoyance of having to do the grunt work because it was faster for his nose to find the drugs than for them to search it. Well at least they got to do something today other than patrol.
“Alright we’ll be there in ten.” Rick continues, ready to sign off before Shane snatches the radio from his hands, pressing the button and practically demanding his orders down the line.
“Make sure the floor is clear of paraphernalia, I’m not having Daryl almost slice himself open again because you didn’t clear the area of needles properly Leon.” Shane orders and Daryl adds a snarl to the end for punctuation, remembering the last incident with Leon’s absent mindedness when he’d nearly punctured himself on a syringe.
“Yeah yeah I got it.”
Leon’s response is mixed with a gulp of fear and sure maybe Daryl didn’t like being seen as a monster, but that boy needed to be kept in line if he was ever going to grow a pair.
The three of them move in sync, Shane grabbing the trash from their lunch and tossing it as they drive past a trash can, Rick starts the car and pulls away, leaning back to offer him the last of his sandwich and Daryl snaps it up eagerly before removing his vest. Bracing himself against the roof he doesn’t bother belting himself in as Rick drives, instead he takes the moment to pass his vest to Shane before shifting. When he was younger it had been a terrifying experience, but now it was like simply changing his clothes.
Shaking himself he knows his partners are still fascinated by the change but give him the privacy to do it without their stares. Heck Shane should be used to it by now, they lived together and he spent a decent amount of time shifted at home when the moon called to him. The car lurches to the side and he has to press himself against the seat not to fall over, giving a bark to Rick he’s pleased when he gets an apology. Moving over to Shane’s side of the car he wedges himself between the head rest and the side of the car, feeling the breeze from the window on his muzzle and panting in happiness that at least he got to do something today.
Shane is busy altering his vest for him, zipping up the extra darts that are there for when he’s in human form and making it appropriate for his new shape. It had taken him a while to learn to get used to wearing the vest when shifted, clothes were something for human form, so feeling the vest over his fur had taken time to get used to. He’d tried to refuse it, but the bulletproof vest was a part of his uniform and there for his protection and the higher ups gave him no other option. So he got used to it and now he wore it with pride.
They pull up at the scene, noting the other couple of cars already pulled up and the officer on the door ready to greet them. Daryl can’t help but wag his tail in excitement, sure it wasn’t going to be a chase, but it was going to be fun all the same. Barking loudly he paws at the window, making Rick laugh as he comes around to open the door for him since paws weren’t made for this sort of thing. He’s practically bouncing on the spot, ready to work and get this done, to show the humans how useful he could be and make that Leon shake in his boots.
He goes to jump down but his partners seem to be able to read his excitement and block his way, Rick placing a hand against his chest as Shane closes the final panel on his vest for him. “Hang on there bud, gotta get you dressed first.” Shane hushes him, holding the vest for him to step into and reaching to snap all the buckles into place for him. His badge is sewn to the front, Lycan 001 his number right there next to his name, bold and making sure everyone knows that he’s not just some canine. He’s the only Lycan unit there is so of course he’s number one, but heck he is the best as well.
Checking his harness is secure Shane pats his side, indicating that he’s suited up and ready to go as his partners step back to let him pass. Bounding out of the car he can hear Rick and Shane trying to decide between them who was joining him on the search and who was going to deal with the arrested men. They resort to rock, paper, scissors and soon enough Shane is following Daryl into the house with a grin on his face since he’d won.
The place is a dump, dirty, clearly lacking any kind of pride in the place and used merely as a workplace for these people. He can smell the drugs in the air, and the second they’re in the room with Leon he’s shifting close enough to get the other man on edge. Leon is intimidated by his size, and of course he uses that to his advantage until he can smell the anxiety on the other man.
“Alright Leon what we looking for?”
“Uh drugs.” The man stumbles over his words, inching away from Daryl and of course he watches him closer, not breaking eye contact and making sure to lick at his muzzle as if he’s hungry.
“No shit Sherlock, what kind of drugs Leon? We looking for a big bust or a baggie here?”
Daryl huffs a little, ignoring the men bicker over the finer details and starting his search. Despite Shane’s earlier warning he keeps a wary eye out for needles, not trusting Leon to do his job properly, as he searches. The place has an overlying odour of drugs, the place is pretty much covered and he has to focus to start finding the real stashes hidden out of sight. Tail high in the air he starts in the room they’re in, pawing at the couch and making sure to check every nook and cranny as he follows the scent.
Barking loud to alert Shane he indicates to the ventilation cover, scrabbling at it and calling for him to come over and get the drugs he couldn’t physically get to. His partner is there in a second, placing a marker on the spot before nodding for him to continue and find more. Daryl knows he’s the best at his job, he knows there’s no one else human or canine who can do what he does and he loves proving to the world that he’s worth something. At first he and Shane hadn’t gotten on too well, but now they’re like a well oiled machine, him leading through the rooms and barking to indicate stashes, Shane marking them and letting him know he’s doing a good job.
The house is full of drugs and paraphernalia, more and more spots are marked, more evidence bags are filled and the list of crimes building up against the thugs grows. He’s proud to be a part of this bust, listening to the humans discuss how much money this all would have been worth on the street and each of them following he and Shane as they work. Soon enough they have a crowd growing as they move to the garage, Shane watching closely as he circles the room for the fourth time.
“What is it Daryl?”
It’s not like he can explain that there’s something in here, something big and definitely their main stash. It makes sense, it’s close to the car, ready to be taken out as soon as possible and sold. He just can’t seem to get a pinpoint on it at all, it’s as if the scent is all around them, consuming the room and leaving him wondering where the hell it is. Scraping his claws over the floor he can feel that it’s concrete, no way there’s anything under there, there’s no false walls, no hidden areas or closets that he can see. Growling to himself his tail twitches in frustration, and he knows Shane can read him easily.
“You’ll get it bud, it’s gotta be here somewhere right?” Barking in agreement he trails around the garage one last time, standing on his hind legs to sniff at the air and barking when the scent gets stronger as he does so. Circling the area he barks repeatedly, letting Shane know he’s on to it, raising his muzzle in the air and indicating that he needed to go up. “For God’s sake, you know how heavy you are in wolf form man?” Shane grumbles, but helps him out anyway.
Using the wall as a brace he stands on his hind legs, letting Shane grab at his harness on the vest and lift him high enough to be a step for him to get to the handmade storage space above them. Scrabbling on the wood he gets his footing, grateful for Shane’s shove getting him up that high and wagging his tail when he finds exactly what he’s looking for.
Howling at his success he knows this was the last thing to find here, and by far the best haul they’d ever had. Well it hadn’t been anything too exciting, but they’d definitely get a write up for this, a mention in the paper and heck maybe that was something to be quite proud of. Beneath him people call for a ladder and a flashlight and soon enough Shane is beside him on his hands and knees, shining a light on the huge stack of white packages before them.
“Holy shit man.” Shane laughs, reaching out to pat at his side, pleased with their progress and clearly amazed with their success. Leaning back to look back down below Shane calls to the rest of them, his fingers still running through the thick russet fur of Daryl’s side. “Gonna need the whole team to bag and tag this lot guys. Biggest stash I’ve ever seen. Shit Daryl, you found the fucking gold mine.”
Hell yeah he did. Barking in agreement he knows that their work was done here, wagging his tail he paws to Shane, wanting to get back down from being so high up. His partner knows he’s not too keen on heights, he knows what he wants and backs down the ladder halfway to let him follow, using the first few steps to brace himself as Shane grabs his harness. Rick steadies him from below, taking his weight and not leaving him feeling unsupported for long, easing him down until all four paws are on the ground.
Shaking the moment of discomfort off he holds his head high, padding out of the garage and into the open air of the garden, pleased with himself and not willing to be modest about it. Rick and Shane follow him, the two of them congratulating him on a job well done, patting at his head and sides as he trots between them enjoying the sun. It’s nice, reassuring to actually be appreciated for doing his job and it’s a little ritual they have after a successful job to go out for a night. Of course since he was the hero of the hour it meant the food was his choice and there was only one thing he ever chose.
“Let me guess, pizza again?” Rick asks and he wags his tail in agreement. They didn’t understand it, before he’d come to work with them he’d never had pizza before and getting to have greasy melted cheese on bread with tomato sauce and smothered in any kind of meat he wanted was practically heaven for him. “Jesus I’m going to get fat if you keep choosing that all the time, it’s a wonder you don’t put any weight on.”
“Trust me the amount of exercise he does running about the track there’s no way he’s going to put on a pound. You should try catching him afterwards.” Shane sighs and Daryl growls at him a little for implying that he was some dumb pet that Shane had to reign in. Nipping at the man’s pant leg is his way of scolding him and he’d use his bulk to shove at him more if he didn’t catch a sudden scent in the air.
He knows he’s got all of the drug stashes inside the house already and this was trailing away from the property anyway. Not one to give up unless the job was done properly he lowers his head, circling the area until he finds the trail and can begin following it. Tail high in the air he begins padding through the grass nose to the ground and ears pricked forwards as he starts tracking. Shane and Rick fall into step behind him, curious at his sudden change in mood and calling to let the others know they were following a lead.
Daryl loses himself when he’s tracking, entirely focussed on the scent filling his nose and padding along the pavement beneath his paws. The scent is a mix of drugs and human sweat, someone was terrified, scared and it’s the scent of prey that he’s following. Immediately his instincts perk up and he’s on the hunt, panting as he quickens the pace and oblivious the world around him. Voices call for him, a hand grabs at his harness and he’s trying to jerk free, rounding a corner and dragging his partner with him as he finds the source of the delicious scent.
Prey. Enemy. Drugs. Weapon. Gun. Pack. Protect.
“Hey! Drop the weapon!”
“Hands in the air!”
A hand tightens on his harness, Shane holding him back as he lunges, snapping and snarling at the young man before them, a constant barrage of growls and barks from his throat as he tries to intimidate the threat into submission. Rick has his weapon drawn, steadied on the man that’s got a drug packet in his jacket, the one who’s got a gun drawn and pointed at them. His partners. His people. His pack. Shane’s hands are occupied with keeping him steady, using their training to let him lunge enough to be a threat but not letting go until he has to, the harness is tight across his chest but he doesn’t care, right now all he’s focussed on is getting the weapon away from his packmates.
His front legs are off the ground as he strains against Shane’s hold, his vest taut over his body and he can feel the buckles groan a little as he tries to use all his weight to get free. Shane is used to it and keeps him back, both he and Rick yelling demands of the scared kid in front of them, trying to get him to lower the weapon and give up since he was caught. He can barely hear them he’s too busy threatening him, using his noise and body to be the defender his partners need when there was a weapon aimed at them. Ears pinned back, fur on end, hackles raised, tail straight and he’s ready to do what needed to be done.
The kid doesn’t put down the gun, he’s begging, he’s saying about having nothing to do with it and just finding the place. He wants them to believe that he wasn’t involved, he was just there when the bust went down, got out with the drugs because he thought he had a shot at getting away. Daryl doesn’t believe a damned word of it and then the kid takes a step back and Shane says the words he’s been longing to hear.
“Don’t do it man. You run and I’ll let him loose and trust me, you don’t want that!”
But he does. He wants to teach this kid who was in charge here and make sure he knew to never ever hold a weapon at his packmates again. How dare he? The little shit thought they were stupid or something, they thought they were going to fall for that and think he was innocent? Snarling loudly he scrambles to get free, wanting the kid to run, wanting to do his job properly and be the wolf he was at heart.
His superior hearing notices the click of the hammer, he can see the way the kid tenses for just a second and then he’s running and all hell breaks loose.
Daryl barely hears the gun go off as Shane lets go of his harness, allowing him to lunge forwards, bolting across the pavement, eyes bright, fangs sharp and bloodlust high as he barrels into the kid. There’s a loud noise as he tackles him, a feeling like a punch to his side, his jaws close on the kid’s weapon arm and he bites down as hard as possible. He feels the snap as much as he hears it, the bones grind together, lax fingers drop the weapon and he shakes his head ferociously as he gets the enemy to know he’s in charge.
The prey screams but he doesn’t let go, he’s not to let go until his packmates are safe and there’s only one way to know that. Snarling he fixes his gaze on the kid, able to smell the fear on him, the terror in his eyes and he knows this is what he was made to do. Blood trickles into his mouth through the kid’s clothing, his tongue is stained with it, he can smell it everywhere and it’s intoxicating.
“Daryl! Release!”
His jaws go lax, he backs away from the kid and hands are on his side, Shane kneeling next to him as Rick cuffs the kid, ignoring his sobs and begging for first aid. Daryl can’t stop growling, he’s still worked up but he knows his training, he knows his commands and is nothing if not a professional. There’s a call for an ambulance to tend to the kid but he knows it’s only a broken arm, nothing he’ll get reprimanded for, not when the kid had pulled a weapon on a couple of cops, that alone gave him the right to use force.
Licking at his lips he can taste the blood and when the kid struggles against Rick’s hold he takes a step forwards, ready to attack again if he needed to. The kid flinches, Shane’s hands come to rest on his sides to settle him down and the adrenaline rush finally, slowly begins to fade from his body. “It’s okay bud, you got him, you did good.” Shane hushes him, knowing that he needs a moment to calm himself after an attack. His partner knows him well, he knows that a threat to any of them can get him worked up and that he needs to just know that they’re well and safe.
Rick’s calling in everyone over his radio, getting them back up, telling the curious civilians to get back and telling the kid his rights. Leaning closer he rests his head against the man’s thigh, able to hear his still fast heartbeat and smell that he’s not injured at all. Shane is still there kneeling beside him, and he can’t help but rest his muzzle against his cheek, licking at him gently to know he’s well, safe, breathing and alive.
The threat fades from his mind, he knows his packmates are safe, the threat is down and he’s protected them as he needed to do. Finally he can relax and the moment he does so he feels the flare of pain from his side. Beneath his vest he can feel a wetness and suddenly he can smell the taint of his own blood in the air. Panting heavily he can’t twist back to see it, he feels weak all of a sudden and before he can shift and explain what’s happening he’s slumped over Shane’s lap, chest heavily and pain flaring from the bullet wound in his side.
“Daryl? Daryl!” Shane is yelling, his tongue lolls from his mouth there’s a dampness over his side from the blood and now he can feel again he whines in pain and agony. Fingers tear at his vest, pulling it free from his matted fur and he yelps, a hand coming to the centre of the pain and pressing against it, adding pressure to the wound and he snaps, wanting to stop whoever was hurting him. It’s too much and he can’t move, can’t twist back to get them and more hands are in his fur, Rick is there over him too and he can smell a mix of pack and blood and his own terror.
“It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay bud.”
“Someone get the damned ambulance here now! Officer down you hear me? Officer down!”
Fingers curl through the fur over his cheeks, they’re both talking to him as someone calls over the radio, there’s a talk about something around him but all he can focus on is Rick and Shane’s faces above him. His tail wags lightly against the ground, everything feels shaky around him and he can’t think about anything other than his pack, his family, safe. Safe.
“You’re gonna be just fine Daryl you hear me? Daryl? Daryl!”
Pack safe.