Chapter Text
The hospital room is beeping too loud.
Everything is too loud, so loud, so high-pitched. He screams. Someone shoves him back against the bed, clutching his hand, pressing against his chest. They poke him with things. They smell. Everything smells. Too loud, so loud. Iodine, bleach, gauze, blood, his own blood, his skin, his hair, the wolf, the wolf that bit him, the nurses, the ER doctor he’s supposed to know the name of, the resident who screamed when she realized it was him, the air outside, the air everywhere –
It smells. It’s loud. It’s so loud. He screams. He can’t hear himself scream. Smells everything. It hurts.
“Henrik, Henrik.” The clear voice of a stranger tries to pierce through the haze, the nurse pressing him down as hard as he can. “You have to be calm. You have to. The doctor can’t give you a stronger sedative, but we’re going to take care of you.”
The blood is sticky on his skin. He sobs as a terribly unfamiliar sensation crawls along the inside of his mouth. His teeth hurt. His ears. His bleeding, torn shoulder. Hurts. It’s so loud.
“Please help me,” he screams, knowing it’s not quite English and not quite German, a mangled mess of a sentence filled with misplaced vowels and the spit drooling from his mouth. “Please help me, I don’t want to die.”
“You’re not going to die, Henrik.”
“I won’t be myself,” he howls, the last rational thought cutting through his panic. “I won’t be myself, please, please stop this, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to go away.”
“Where’s the on-call rehabilitator? Sean, call Sean. Henrik, we’re going to take good care of you.”
“No, no.” He doesn’t know what he’s saying no to. Doesn’t know what’s happening. It hurts. It’s so loud. He thrashes and they pin him down, but it’s a struggle for them, even though there’s four of them and one of him. They can hardly keep him down. Being trapped beneath them hurts in a new and terrifying way he’s never experienced. He’s suffocating. He’s bleeding out. It’s so loud. He throws up on himself, too disoriented to feel it coming until he’s already vomiting, and all he can do is sob and whimper, shaking and bleeding.
“Hey, man, hey. It’ll be okay, bud. Look at you, poor thing.”
This voice is new. And the smell that comes with it is new too, pleasant and calm, somehow, shot through with sympathy and… coffee?
Coffee smell, with vanilla. He loves coffee. And something like fire, warm and comforting.
“Give the poor guy some more pain relief, doc, can’t you see he’s already halfway through his turn? The human drugs won’t do you much good anymore, brother. We’ll figure it out though, okay? Yeah.”
He hiccups a sob, tearing his wet eyes open as someone mops sick from his face with gentle white hands, laced in dark hair along the back. He coughs, inhaling the smell of the stranger, a low whine he’s never heard before escaping his throat.
“Please, please, please,” he groans. “Please, please, it hurts.”
“We’re going to get you some sleep, man. What’s the name? Henrik? I’m going to stay with you, Henrik. We’ll figure it out.”
“I’m changing,” he weeps. “Please, I – I don’t want this, no – ”
“I know, I know,” whispers the stranger. “Oh, brother, I know. I’m so sorry. But all you can do right now is sleep. That’s all. Sleep and heal. I will stay right here.”
Henrik reaches almost blindly towards the man, towards that sweet, hot coffee and flame smell, blood staining his trembling fingers. The man clasps his hand, tugging it to his chest, and holds on to him as something is injected in the tube on Henrik’s left arm, something that makes his head go thick and dopey, his eyes sliding shut.
“Please, please, please,” he begs.
“I will stay right here,” promises the man, the werewolf, holding his hand. “You just gotta get some sleep. I’m sorry, brother. I’m sorry.”
It’s so loud. It hurts. It hurts. Coffee and fire are his only comforts. He clutches the hand in his own with his last second of strength, and then, thank the Lord, he sleeps.
He fumes through the smell of blood still on his face, through his fingers changing to claws and back again, through a halfway shift Jackie has to pull him back from with shouting and snarls.
He fumes.
“You calm down,” Jackie snarls at him, shoving him back to the couch when he tries to rise for the tenth time. “You’ll get in more trouble! I’m sick of bailing you out, Marv!”
“I don’t give a damn,” he growls back, gripping his cousin’s arms so tight he’ll no doubt leave pockmarks in his hoodie sleeves. “They can’t talk to me like that, like I’m an animal, like – ”
“You still can’t make people think you’ll bite their faces off!”
“They deserved it! They called me feral. I was just running!”
“You’re always just running, and they always deserve it.”
Marvin snaps his teeth at Jackie so harshly he actually jerks back for a second, but Jackie’s eyes narrow an instant later, and then he’s in wolf form. They go crashing to the ground, Marvin struggling to hold his snapping teeth away from him, lacking the space to shift beneath Jackie’s weight.
“Oh, and I’m the one out of control?” he hisses, baring his fangs at Jackie. Jackie shifts back to a man in a movement so fluid it almost makes Marvin nauseous, and then a wolf again. Okay, fine. So his control is impeccable.
“Show-off,” he growls.
Jackie circles him with a growl of his own, grabbing his shirt for a second just to drag him back towards the couch. Marvin snuffles, cowed for a minute, and snaps at the rug instead of the only friend who’s still bothering to stick around.
Jackie’s scent cools after a minute, always a little summery-hot, and sometimes buttery. Marvin sinks in on himself, exhausted, and lets himself shift into a wolf with blood still on his snout and side where the humans got a cut or two in.
Jackie rumbles at him and sits down at his side. Marvin lays his head down, fuming – but more quietly, now.
Fuck, he really does have to stop. And dragging himself to Jackie’s… he shouldn’t be tangling him up in his messes, but he doesn’t really trust his own place anymore. Not since the landlord found out what he was. He’d tried so hard to keep it secret.
He’s so tired.
Jackie sets his chin on top of his head. Marvin huffs, settling down on his paws, and Jackie rumbles peacefully at him, forgiving him in a vibration of his throat. Somedays, Marvin thinks he understands Jackie better as a wolf than a man. Somedays, he thinks Jackie understands himself better that way too, and everyone else, for that matter. But Jackie’s in control these days, so much more grown-up from the reckless kids they used to be, and while he was maturing, Marvin just… didn’t.
That’s how it feels, anyway. And now he’s gotten in another stupid fight.
They did deserve it, though. Chucking rocks at him and laughing.
Feral bitch. You think anyone wants your kind in public? In the parks? Maybe this is the one who’s been biting people out late at night. Fucking werewolf bitch. Give me the bottle, five points if you hit his head.
He just… lost his temper. Again.
Jackie gets off him after long minutes, slinking back towards the couch and taking his clothes into his mouth before ducking into the hallway to change. He comes back towards Marvin as a man, hands shoved in the pockets of that familiar red jacket, and smiles at him, gentler now.
“Get up, dude,” he sighs. “Let’s get some sleep. It was rough, but… it’s over now. We’ll talk about it some more tomorrow.”
Marvin sighs, his body aching. Yeah. He wants to sleep. And Jackie’s neighborhood has lots of wolves. No one will bother them here.
That’s when he hears the sirens coming closer, and sees the red and blue lights flashing through Jackie’s window, bright enough to hurt his tired eyes.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. He should have kept his teeth beneath his lips, and his claws against the dirt.
Six days later, sitting in a courtroom and watching a human judge order him to goddamn werewolf rehabilitation like a fucking pup –
He fumes. He fumes. He fumes.
Our first class is July 1st, 6:00 PM, at my office. Come in through the green door on the side of the building by the grocer’s. You don’t need to bring anything except an ID for me to make a copy of. You are welcome to text me with any questions. See you there.
Okay. Alright. He can do this.
Chase reads through it again. Green door by the grocer’s. That’s where he is. Checks the time – 5:55. Perfect. Just as he planned. Just as he ran through it in his head all day long. He’s not usually a particularly punctual guy, but this is important – and terrifying. This is worse than family court.
He never thought he’d be in this situation.
A shaky sigh slips out of him without his permission and he blinks hard, despairing to feel his eyes getting wet already. No, he can’t do this. It’s been four weeks since he was turned. He has to start adjusting to this. He just has to. For the kids.
As soon as his rehab – okay, both of his rehabs – are complete, he can see them. Unsupervised, at his own house. And maybe once he’s got a hold on this, everyone will stop looking at him like they’re horrified at what he’s become.
Maybe he can stop seeing himself like he’s horrified at what he’s become.
There are tears dripping down his face. He’s standing outside that green door, crying, gripping his phone in his hands like it’s the only thing left that can save him from all of this. No one else is going to help him, after all. The way she looked at him when he accidentally snapped his teeth at her… he’ll never forget that look for the rest of his life. The fear is so much worse than that exhaustion and anger she had before. The way she’d clutched Hunter to her…
He buries his face in his hands, trying to breathe.
“Thought I smelled you out here.”
Sean’s voice cuts through his panic. He rears his head, coughing and rubbing at his face to cover the tears, straightening up as Sean pushes through the door, smiling patiently at him. “Oh, hey, dude, what’s good?” he asks, clearing his throat. “Warm night, huh? Thought it might rain, but not yet.”
Blue eyes regard him warmly from the doorway. “Yeah, man. I’m good. You maybe don’t look so good, on the other hand.”
Chase waves his hand. “No way, I’m chill. Lot better than I was. Up and walking without help, see?”
“Chase,” says Sean, in the same way he had said his name the first time he broke down in the hospital, rocking in his triage cot. “You’re not supposed to be put together, you know that, right? That’s why you’re here.”
Chase nods rapidly, then cuts to shaking his head as his lip begins to tremble again. Sean steps towards him, hands reaching out tentatively, as though he’s going to collapse and Sean will catch him.
“Hey,” he says. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Chase sucks in a breath, reaching to grab his wrist like the next rock on his climbing wall. “Me too. Just a little freaked, I guess.”
“That’s okay. It can be a lot.”
“I also – I, I. I walked here, you know? And I didn’t realize it would be a problem. But it’s the first time I’ve been out walking in the evening since… you know. And I just feel kind of…”
“Yeah,” says Sean, when Chase fails to finish the sentence. “Yeah, of course. That’s totally normal. Why don’t we get you inside and that could help, huh?”
“Sure, sure. Are there other people in there? Er, wolves?”
“Just one. I’m excited for you to meet him, actually.”
“Okay, just give me a second.”
He stands outside that green door and wipes at his face, drawing deep breaths in, letting deep breaths out. Sean is quiet at his side, supremely non-judgemental, patient.
“Hey, Sean?”
“Yeah?”
“You are, like, amazing at your job.”
Sean laughs. “I’ll tell my boss!”
Chase laughs too, shaking his head. Sean employs himself. He’d explained it to him in the hospital: how he’s supervised by a national accreditation organization for werewolf rehabilitation and advocacy, but, from what Chase understands, they’re stretched so thin Sean is mostly on his own. He’s funded through a Health Department grant as a licensed werewolf control educator and werewolf crime victim advocate, but not well-funded. That’s probably why, as Chase pushes through the door, he can’t help but think the office is kind of a wreck. The carpeting is almost amusingly vintage, like it belongs in a bowling alley that hasn’t been refurbished since 1970, and one of the chairs actually has a bucket underneath it in place of a missing leg. There’s a worn dining table instead of a check-in desk, and tired sofas and armchairs instead of a neat set for a waiting room.
But it smells good, that’s one thing Chase will say for sure. Sean’s coffee and fire smell seems to warm the whole place, combined with incenses tied together and left smoking quietly in the corner of the room. It’s homey. And after weeks of trying to adjust to his over-sensitive nose, it feels more like a breath of fresh air than entering a crowded office.
That’s when he catches a new smell.
There’s a werewolf in the corner, sitting between the dining table like it’s his shield for the day, and the bandages on his neck and arms are so fresh Chase can still smell the blood beneath them. His hackles rise instantly. This man… why is he familiar?
“Chase,” says Sean, perhaps ignorant of the sudden tension in the air, or more likely just ignoring it. “This is Henrik, or Schneep, as the residents insist on calling him. Schneep, Chase. You two actually have a lot in common.”
He’s pale as paste, curled into the corner looking so exhausted Chase honestly doesn’t think the guy could get up without help. He meets Chase’s gaze for a second – those eyes are sharp as flint, blue as crystal, and intelligent in a way that’s alarmingly obvious – but he looks away just as quick. Whatever his natural smell is has been overrun by the scent of sick, blood, hospital, medicine, Sean. His face is bruised. He ducks his head low as both Sean and Chase look at him, hiding his neck and his gaze.
It’s then that Chase gets it. He’s familiar not because they’ve met before, but because Chase has been in this exact position, only four weeks before.
Assaulted and turned.
It is 6:05 PM, officially five minutes into their first lesson. Why is Chase already crying a second time?
Sean takes him by the shoulders and sits him carefully down, reaching out to wrap his arm around him, and for a second, all Chase can do is bury himself in Sean’s shoulder, breathing in his scent in a way that would definitely not be normal for someone who wasn’t a werewolf.
“Was it – was he – do they think that – that we – ” Chase chokes out nonsense, struggling to speak.
“Yes,” Sean murmurs. “I could smell him on you both when you were in the ER. The police say they aren’t sure, but I am. You were both bit by the same wolf.”
“Why haven’t they caught him?” His voice is a mixture of yelling and crying now. “They knew this happened to me and didn’t stop it from happening again? How? They have his bite marks! He should be in their system! Why did they let this happen again? Why did I – ”
“Chase, this is not your fault.”
“I was such a fucking coward,” he cries. “I was so – I wish I had fought. I thought he was robbing me, you know, I just wanted to give him my wallet like you’re supposed to do so you don’t get hurt, and then he leapt at me, and I just – ”
The door opens. Chase is confused a second later when his usual instinct to straighten up and quickly hide his tears is immediately overrun by the need to press his face into Sean’s shoulder, startled by the smell of strangers, wolves in the doorway.
“For the love of the moon,” spits an unfamiliar voice. “No way, I am absolutely out. Ow, Jackie!”
Peering over Sean’s shoulder, Chase sees one wolf grab the other by the collar of his dress shirt, dragging him into the office as Sean turns to smile at them.
“Play nice,” the one holding the other says, some jacked guy with a red hoodie that looks like it might be secretly bulletproof or something, slightly shiny when you look at it from the right angle. He releases the slightly smaller wolf at his side and beams at Sean. “Jack one!”
“Jack two!” Sean replies, gently releases Chase to turn and face him, holding out his arms. Jack two crashes into him, squeezing him to his chest so hard he lifts Sean fully off the ground for a moment. “I didn’t know you were coming!”
“Well, Marv has to come, and he’s pissed, so I figured I could balance him out by wanting to be here.”
Marv glowers at the both of them from the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest, but they ignore his grumpiness – unlike Schneep. Chase feels him pushing himself farther into the corner, head low, and his sickly scent spikes with something sharp and bitter that Chase doesn’t recognize, though it makes his gut roll for a second. He doesn’t feel much better himself. Jack two and Marv don’t look much bigger than him, but somehow, he knows in his chest that they are not wolves to be messed with.
“We were just working on introductions anyhow,” says Sean, pulling back from his friend. “These are our new wolves: Henrik, here, and this is Chase. Chase and Henrik, this is Marvin and Jackie. Marvin and Jackie are born wolves, like me.”
“They’re here to help with class?” asks Chase weakly.
Sean shoots a look at Marv, who bares his teeth and growls. Chase balks, squishing back against his chair.
“Marv,” Sean barks back, and Marvin’s attention turns to him in a snap. “Don’t growl at them. How’s that for rule number one?”
Chase shifts in his seat. The authority in Sean’s voice is so sure of itself and commanding that he almost feels the need to get to his feet and agree with him. Marvin, however, doesn’t seem as inclined to back down. He watches Sean warily and slowly bares his teeth again, though he doesn’t growl this time. Sean opens his lips in return. His white teeth gleam in the cheap yellow light of the office.
Marvin licks his teeth and quietly tucks them away again, turning his head. Chase blinks at him, his eyes following the curve of his neck as he extends it to Sean sullenly.
Sean’s assertion drops immediately and he’s smiling again rather than baring his teeth. Apparently just as attuned to whatever weird power-play is happening as Chase is, Jackie makes a low rumbling noise, almost like a purr, and puts his head down on Sean’s shoulder, his neck bared right next to Sean’s teeth. Sean rumbles back, his scent warm with familiarity.
“What Jackie just did for me is called deferring,” Sean explains to Chase and Henrik, wisely leaving Marvin’s deference unspoken between them. “Not submitting – submitting is when you challenge another wolf, usually involving a physical fight, and one of you comes out on top. That’s old-fashioned stuff, really. Between friends, you can defer, and it doesn’t mean as much as the humans want you to think it does. We’re in my home right now, my territory, and I’m here to teach you. Really, it’s just good sense for Jackie – and the rest of you – to defer to me while you’re here. In other contexts, I wouldn’t mind deferring to you back.”
“What’s the point of all this?” Henrik speaks up for the first time, and maybe Chase shouldn’t be surprised by his German accent, or the exhaustion therein. “Showing necks and baring teeth. You said we’re not animals just because this happened.”
Marvin rolls his eyes deeply in the corner, but Sean smiles politely at Henrik. “Good question. Coming from a human perspective, it probably looks unnecessary. But the truth is, you tensed the second Chase came in here, and then even worse when Jackie and Marvin joined us, and part of the reason for that is that the four of you haven’t established deference yet.”
Henrik flushes slightly. “Maybe I just am not comfortable around strange wolves after what happened.”
“That could also be part of it,” Sean allows. “But really, you’ll feel better if the four of you establish.”
There’s a weird silence. Chase shifts in his seat. “Um. How?”
“Say hi to Schneep,” Sean encourages. “Look each other in the eye. The rest will happen naturally.”
“This is so juvenile,” hisses Marvin to Jackie. Jackie points a threatening look his way, and he shuts up.
“Why don’t you guys say hi, and I’ll talk to Marvin… alone, please.” Sean heads towards one of the side rooms and Marvin, spitting curses the whole way, follows after him.
Jackie doesn’t seem uncomfortable at all, stepping towards Henrik despite the way the new wolf shrinks away from him in alarm. “I’ll defer to you since you’re living here right now,” says Jackie cheerfully. Without hesitating, he leans down til he’s lower than Henrik and pulls him into a hug, tilting his neck towards his teeth. Henrik freezes, eyes wide as something inside him seems to have a fifteen-second war with itself, but then he’s letting his hands wrap tentatively around Jackie’s back. He presses his nose a little closer to Jackie’s neck. For just a second, he opens his mouth and shows his teeth, and Chase flinches at the thought that he might bite him, but he doesn’t.
Jackie pulls away. And you know what? Henrik really does look calmer.
“Thank you?” says Henrik.
“The most important thing you can learn early on is what Sean said, that deferring isn’t a big deal,” purrs Jackie. “You’re right, we’re not animals. I don’t see it as any different from how people use honorifics in different languages. But if you get obsessed with deference, you’ll start becoming one of those wolves who challenges every other wolf you meet, always looking for the high of submission, and not only is that miserable for you, but you sure won’t find a pack doing that.”
“I don’t think I’m that kind of man,” sighs Henrik.
“It’s not masculinity, dude. It’s wolf stuff. Just be aware of your instincts. They really are different now.”
That makes Henrik sad. Chase blinks, not sure how he knows that. Then he realizes that… he can smell it? Yeah. Something cold and dusty curving into his scent. Sorrow. Grief.
That has a smell?
“Did you say you were living here?” Chase cuts between them. “Did you know Sean before that happened? That’s kind of a crazy coincidence, to get turned while living with a rehabilitator.”
“No,” says Henrik roughly, pushing his glasses up his nose. “My apartment building is not a place for werewolves.”
“What? That’s not legal.”
“It’s not anything official,” says Henrik. “Sean said I may not be welcome there anymore. I didn’t believe him at first. But he went to get some of my things for me while I was in the hospital, and one of my neighbors came out and shouted at him. Said they’d kill him if he came back. I… was too scared, after that. Most of my stuff is still there.”
Jackie tenses between them, still crouched in front of Henrik. Chase is scared that he doesn’t seem surprised.
“Oh.” Chase looks down at the carpet. He has a house of his own since Stacy went to her sister’s and wants her own apartment now. It hadn’t occurred to him that the neighbors might have a different opinion of him now. “I’m sorry, man.”
“I just want to go home to Germany,” Henrik whispers. “I was to be here for six months as part of a research grant, working on piggyback transplants with one of the local experts. I’ve only been here for two. But now I can’t travel – I can’t take a bus or a plane until I’m rehabilitated. They think I will be claustrophobic, could attack someone or become feral. They took all my documentation, suspended everything until I can get the certification. I just want to go home. I wish I had never come here.”
“What happened?” murmurs Jackie, touching his knee.
“I was attacked coming home from the hospital,” Henrik chokes. It’s his turn to sound close to tears, and that cold scent is painfully evident in his smell, cutting through the smell of bandages and injury. “I never even saw my assailant. He left me bleeding behind a dumpster. I screamed for what felt like years before someone came and helped me, and even then, they would not touch me or hold the blood in as it flooded out of me, just kept their distance and called for help. They could already smell that I was not a human anymore.”
Chase’s stomach hurts. He stares at Henrik as Jackie murmurs comfort to him, squeezing his knee. “When was that?”
“It was three days ago,” Henrik whispers.
Chase can’t help the curse that escapes him. Three days! He gets to his feet without even thinking about it, joining Jackie at Henrik’s side, and reaches out with the offer of a hug. Henrik pauses, but only for a second. He leans down, and Chase – okay, yeah. This is what Sean meant, it must be. This immediate need to either rear up and force Henrik lower on his shoulder, or to lean down and let Henrik see his neck. He almost whines with the force of it. The awareness that Jackie is at his side and that Chase doesn’t know if he should bare his neck to him either is suddenly uncomfortable and overwhelming. He tries to draw back from Henrik, but apparently the other new wolf is comprehending the same thing as he is, because he grabs Chase uncertainly, and then –
Henrik’s teeth flash. Chase almost rears back, but then Jackie is there between the pair of them, making that low rumble deep in his throat again.
“You’re both fine,” he says. “Calm down. Try again. Stand up so you don’t feel trapped, come on.”
They both get awkwardly to their feet. From the way he’s flushed, Chase is pretty sure Henrik is just as embarrassed as him about whatever the hell just happened.
“Sorry,” he manages.
“Ah, ah!” Jackie waggles his finger at him. “Don’t apologize! Instincts, remember? You’re three days old and – Chase?”
“Um. Four weeks.”
“And four weeks. You’re not expected to be in control. Why don’t you pick who will defer to the other?”
They regard each other. Henrik’s lowered his head again, turned slightly away.
“You’re newer to this than me,” says Chase. “You be – um. What’s the opposite of defer, Jackie?”
“Accept.”
“You accept, and I’ll defer.”
Henrik nods slowly, his eyes flickering. When Chase approaches him this time, he doesn’t grab him, hands carefully kept at his side.
Chase allows his head to fall against his shoulder, just like he had with Sean. This close, he can smell the scent of the other wolf beyond the hospital and bandage smell. It’s almost salty, a thought that makes him laugh a little despite himself. Maybe kind of like the ocean? And a little lemon? But also, that bandage smell – maybe that’s not all the actual bandages. Maybe Henrik has a bit of a clean gauze smell himself, just as part of him. Weird.
He’s smiling by the time he draws away from Henrik, squeezing his shoulders warmly. “What do I smell like?”
Henrik fumbles over his words for a second, flushing, obviously having been caught smelling him too. “Uh, well. Kind of like chocolate.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” Henrik admits. “It’s not unpleasant.”
They look each other in the eye, like Sean said, and the feeling of being unsure of what’s going on dissipates from Chase’s shoulders.
“Did you see the wolf who attacked you?” asks Henrik softly.
“Yes,” Chase replies, just as quiet. “Sounds like he left you there after biting you, but… not me.”
Henrik tenses. “What do you mean?”
Chase swallows. “He, um. He abducted me.”
Jackie is silent beside them, face taut with worry, his eyes flickering between them. Henrik just stares at him, like maybe it’s too horrible to comprehend.
“Brought me to some rundown building,” Chase manages, mouth very dry. “I… turned there with him. He comforted me. Had his hands on me, told me he’d look after me now. When I finished my turn, he forced me to shift into a wolf. It – it hurt worse than the bite. And he did – he made me – submit, like Sean said. Told me to shut up and stay where I was, and I just did. Like I couldn’t do anything except what he said. It was awful.”
He leaves out the worst parts: the parts where he was comforted when his attacker forced him to submit, how it made him feel like he would be cared for when he bit into his neck but did not kill him, shoving him into his place. The parts where his instincts were so addled he allowed the other wolf to feed him and pet him and call him pack. The part where he brought out a leash and a collar, like Chase was a fucking dog, and all he did was lie still and let him chain him in place.
He left those parts out when the police asked, too. They already looked at him like he was the most pitiful victim they’d ever seen.
“I only got away because the police found us,” he says. “And he didn’t have time to… to escape with me.”
Didn’t have time to get him off the chain.
He feels sick thinking about it. Might honestly puke here in Sean’s office.
Long fingers tangle into his own.
“Maybe he didn’t grab me because you got away,” says Henrik, squeezing his hand. “Thanks for that.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him from hurting you too,” whispers Chase.
Henrik’s face creases with sympathy. He shakes his head. “It’s only ever his fault. Never yours. Neither of us could have stopped him. We’re just… here now. It’s unfortunate, but at least we’re not alone.”
“Yeah,” Chase agrees, smiling at him a bit despite himself, at the way his pained scent lessens as they stand beside each other. “Yeah, you’re right.”
And he thinks maybe this is a little bit of what Jackie and Sean meant, when they talked about instincts and figuring out how you fit with each other. Because he’s never met Henrik before, but he knew they had a sameness to them the second Sean said they had both been through this with the same wolf, and he feels it now, with their fingers and their scents wrapping together. Maybe this is instinct too: the way that he feels completely right with himself, for a second, as he stands beside another new wolf and calls that camaraderie.
Not that he’s going to overthink it. Henrik is still just a stranger to him – but he feels, in that moment, much less alone than he did twenty minutes past.
Jackie stands to the side of them. When Chase turns his way, his eyes are fixed on him, and they don’t flicker away when he meets his gaze, unabashed to be caught staring. Jackie looks at him with something deep and heavy in his gaze, and Chase wishes he could know what he was thinking. Jackie blinks and the look clears. He smiles, but it’s weaker now, and as he steps slightly back, Chase sees his hands clenched tightly into fists, and the way his jaw is gritted.
He wonders why that doesn’t make him scared.
There’s water dripping into a bucket in the corner of the sideroom. Marvin smells rain, metal, leaves. The walls are tired, cracking in places, but Sean has tacked up posters and paintings where he can, trying to keep the place cheery. Drywall, bleach, putty, paint. He’s shoved some of his spare boxes into this room, filled with his personal belongings that won’t fit anywhere in the cramped apartment he lives in upstairs, but there’s two nice chairs pressed close together in the center of the room. Strange wolves, comfort, tears, Sean.
“You need more space, Sean,” Marvin says finally. “It’s gotten so rundown since you used to see Jackie here. Is that lemon-smell wolf really living in your apartment with you? Where’s he even sleeping?”
“There’s a couch up there,” says Sean. “He doesn’t have anywhere else to go.”
“Oh, and of course everything falls to you to fix for every werewolf in the city.”
Sean shoots him a look, warning and amused at the same time, but beneath it all, he looks so tired. Marvin gets that. He flops down in a chair, stretching luxuriously, and now that he’s out of the sight of those new wolves – practically still humans – he’s comfortable rubbing his head against the backrest of the chair, spreading his scent. “You gotta take care of yourself too, man.”
“Don’t change the subject. We’re here to talk about you getting in trouble, Marv.”
“Oh, don’t even start with me. You know I’m only here because I have to be. I don’t need any of this puppy stuff.”
“I helped Jackie when he was out of control.”
“He was seventeen. I’m twenty-three!”
“How is he doing?”
Marvin deflates, crossing his arms over his chest. “Annoyingly good with his control these days. Now he lectures me about not getting into fights. The nerve.”
“What happened?”
“It’s just getting worse. All of it. The way we’re treated, the way we’re looked at. I was walking around the park and some drunk fucks started sneering at me and throwing things at me, throwing rocks. It hurt. I attacked. They deserved it.”
“It doesn’t help, though,” murmurs Sean. “Petty fights, getting caught right away, not thinking things through. You have to just… run away, Marv.”
“And what does that help?” spits Marvin, sitting up straight, his hands hot. “I’m sick of people treating me like shit. Of every human I come across treating me like shit.”
“You lose your temper.”
“Yes, fine, I lose my temper. Do you think any of them ever keep their temper in check with me? With Jackie? You know how much I hate seeing my cousin getting harassed, and all he does is sit quiet until they leave him alone? It makes me fucking murderous, I swear.”
“But he knows that’s how it has to be, while we keep making change. All you’re doing, Marv, is enforcing their idea that we’re violent and dangerous.”
Marvin scowls, shaking his head. “I just want this to be over with. Just certify me, okay? You know I’m in control when nobody’s being a total dick to me.”
Sean clucks his tongue. “Sorry, brother. No can do. You’re going to have to go through the classes – and my one-on-one appointments – just like the baby wolves.”
“What? Sean, come on! Just tell them I did it! Do you want me to go to jail? I thought we were friends!”
“You could benefit from this, Marv. You know I’m a good educator.” He folds his hands in his lap as he sits down beside him, smiling warmly, the picture of professional friendliness. “Maybe we could talk about some ways you could help me make actual progress for the wolves in this city while we’re at it.”
“Sean. Seriously. You really think it’s fair that I’m here? That I defended myself from some assholes who hurt me, bruised me, cut me, and I have to go to fucking rehab? You have no idea how unfairly the courts treat me, how – ”
“I have no idea? I have no idea how unfair the courts are, is that what you just said to me?”
The sudden vitriol in Sean’s voice shuts Marvin down so hard he barely resists the urge to bare his neck. He swallows hard.
The other half of what Sean does outside this office is werewolf advocacy.
“I’m in court every other day, on dozens of cases for dozens of werewolves – sixty-seven active cases right now, Marv, thanks very much – and every fucking day I’m seeing injustices, hearing about injustices, reading about them. I have a wolf right now who just got sentenced to three years for a crime I know he didn’t commit. The housing authority never calls me back about complaints, the county attorney keeps making shitty deals. Fuck, Marv, I have some kid who got sexually abused by her dad, and we are barely convincing the court to place her with her mom instead of taking her into foster care because mom’s a wolf, and I guess to them that’s almost as bad, I guess that’s just – ”
Sean cuts himself off, hanging his head. In the quiet, Marvin can hear his heart beating hard as his scent spikes with snowy grief and copper rage, his hands clenched into fists.
“I’m sorry,” Marvin mumbles. “I’m really sorry, I just…”
“I know,” Sean replies, voice soft. “I know, Marv.”
“I know you do.”
He breathes out slow, through his nose. Marvin gets up and sits down in Sean’s chair instead, wrapping himself around him, and he rubs his head firmly against Sean’s, sharing his smell, and they sit in the quiet together for a long minute.
Marvin wishes it was always like this, with everyone: that everyone got it, that everyone smelled this nice, that everybody understood it isn’t weird for him to cuddle with a wolf who’s almost pack to him and Jackie, and has been for years.
“I’m just tired, Sean,” he says finally. “I think you are too.”
“Yeah,” Sean sighs. “Yeah. But we don’t have to be hopeless, Marv. And I think maybe that’s why you do this, sometimes. That you’re angry at everything and you won’t channel it anywhere useful because you don’t think it will help, that it will change anything. But it can, Marv. I swear, we can make a difference in ways other than fighting. You don’t have to just… fume with this anger all the time. Really.”
Marvin says nothing. Sean has always been such an optimist. He can’t really share that endless positivity.
“Jackie told me about that night. He said you were upset earlier that day. About his dad.”
Anger curls, low in Marvin’s gut. He says nothing.
“Is he really getting released?”
“Of all the wolves that deserve to rot in jail,” growls Marvin, voice low. “Jackie’s dad is the first one.”
“Will Jackie let him move in if he gets out?”
“I don’t know.” Despair and anger. He’s so tired. “He cares so hard, about everyone. I hope not, though.”
“Is he… okay, lately? He told me his pack dissipated. Said there were interpersonal problems.”
Marvin laughs humorlessly. “Is that how he explains it?”
“What happened?”
“Two of them got married and then had to move away when she got pregnant. That’s when the fighting started between the ones that were left. It was… when Jackie was trying to get his diagnosis. They found out. Started treating him different. Eventually it turned into full-on fighting, and Jackie wasn’t going to force them to submit if they didn’t want to anymore.”
“So they left.”
“Yeah. And one of them, he said – he told Jackie that if he knew he wasn’t right in the head, he would never have let him be his Alpha in the first place.”
Sean’s silent. Marvin tastes his anger in the air again, but there’s no lashing out, not with him.
“He’s such a good Alpha,” he says finally.
“He’s the best fucking Alpha anyone’s ever heard of,” Marvin agrees, voice loud in the little room. “The best fucking – he’s so caring. Fuck! He cares so hard. And he lead so confidently, so cheerfully, never let them get hurt, was always there, just – just – fuck, Sean. You don’t know how bad it ticks me off. His confidence is shattered since then. He doesn’t try to find a new pack. He won’t even pack-bond with me, anymore. Says I deserve better.”
Sean sighs, low and tired. “I’ll talk to him too.”
“Okay, yeah. Maybe he’ll listen to you.”
Sean shifts in his seat, letting Marvin sink against his side.
“Did you hear about that human who got attacked by a wolf downtown?” Marvin asks.
Sean stiffens. “The human who had just gotten out of jail?”
“Yeah, he had been convicted of hate crimes against wolves, but got out because of some mistrial shit. Or lack of representation, or something. But he was out. Got mauled out near the beach. The wolf didn’t kill him, but they fucked him up pretty good. Taught him a lesson, I guess.”
“I heard, yeah.”
“I’m worried that maybe that was Jackie,” Marvin whispers.
“What? Why?”
“Guy deserved it, and Jackie had followed that case when it was first in the papers. The way he’s been bottling stuff up lately… he’s in control, like I said. But I wouldn’t put it past him to make the decision to go out and punish someone who deserved it. He’s back into his comic books again – like, nothing but Spider-Man unless he’s at work. You know him. He loves vigilante stories, and that’s what the police were saying might have happened. That there was a similar case before that, another asshole getting attacked by a wolf, but not killed, never killed. They said it was some red-brown wolf, not huge, but definitely powerful. What if that’s him?”
Sean shakes his head, grimacing. “I’ll talk to him,” he repeats. “You tell me if you find any hard evidence.”
“Fine.”
“As for you – ”
“No. Can we not? Seriously?”
“Marv, Henrik and Chase could use your help. Yeah, seriously. You need to get some purpose back. You just have to, Marv. Are you even working these days?”
“So what if I’m not?”
“You’re lonely. You’re bored, for fuck’s sake. Here’s my plan: you’ll stay an extra half-hour after the course with the newbies. We’ll have one-on-ones. Talk about your goals, fight a little of that extra energy off, do some anger management stuff. When you’re actually making progress, I’ll certify you. I’m not going to make this hard on you, brother, but I think it could help. I think it might be good for you to see some of the work I do day-to-day. Maybe you could help me out with some things. You’ve sure got the passion.”
Marvin lets his head loll back so he can squint at Sean more efficiently, letting his grumpiness seep into his scent. It makes Sean laugh despite himself, reaching out to pet Marv’s head, just once.
“Hey. They need you and Jackie, the experience and understanding that you bring. This could be good for all five of us. All I ask is that you try, Marv. Maybe for the first time in a long time. Have just a little hope. For me.”
For Sean.
The friendliest, nicest-smelling wolf he’s ever met, endlessly giving, endlessly positive, who thinks every wolf alive is his brother or sister or sibling, who turned his cousin’s life around when no one else was willing to try.
Practically pack. And you don’t have to be a wolf yourself to know that Marvin Ahearn would do anything for pack.
“Alright, you old bastard,” he says, laying his head down on Sean’s shoulder. “For you.”
One lesson can’t hurt, right?