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In all his life, there was only one dog Shane had never tried to pet.
The dog in question lived one street over for a good chunk of Shane's childhood, and most of the neighborhood kids were terrified of him. He threw himself at the fence any time anyone went anywhere near it, barking and snarling like he wanted to tear the person's head off.
Even his parents were a little bit scared of it. Every time they either walked or drove by, his dad would turn to him. "You stay away from that dog, you hear?"
Shane would always just nod, not bothering to explain that he wasn't scared of the dog. It was just desperate to defend its territory.
#
There was something inside Shane that wasn't like everybody else.
He mostly didn't notice it, didn't even really think about it until everything later, but whenever he got really angry or scared he felt it. At six, jumping on a neighbor kid with a roar and beating the crap out of him for hurting a stray cat. Doing the same thing to one of the other guys on the team, the one who was making that freshman girl look so damn scared.
Breaking everything in the shed the night his mom died, when he found out he wasn't who he'd always thought he'd been. Doing the same thing to the living room the night after his dad died, when it sank in that he was 18 years old and had nothing left in the entire world.
That part of him wasn't bad, exactly. It didn't handle being scared very well, but most animals lashed out when they were scared. As long as he was careful to use it to protect, to defend, he'd be okay.
The army was a good place for it. He signed up right out of high school, not knowing what else to do – his parents had left him some money, but the idea of trying college all alone was too much for him – but it turned out to be the right call. That part of him liked all the clear lines, liked having a team he was supposed to protect. Territory could be people.
Not a pack, though. The ache of that loneliness stayed with him, pushed him to look for his biological mother a little harder than was smart. He didn't know what he would find, but she had to care about him at least a little. She was family.
He thought about that dog, sometimes. Maybe all that snarling hadn't just been about defending his territory. When you got lonely enough, snarling and begging got all tangled up together.
#
When he first met Bex, he didn't really think anything of it. She was gorgeous, sure – he'd have to be blind not to notice that – but they were both professionals with a job to do. That was all this was going to be.
But then they chased down Malek, and Bex ran off after him without letting him watch her back. It wasn't really a surprise, given how dedicated she was to the job – hell, he might have done the same thing in her place – but it made that part of him he never talked about get restless. Anxious. She was his to protect, and when she ran off without him he couldn't do that.
He really had been fully prepared to camp out at the hospital all night. The thing inside him needed her close, needed to be able to watch the door and guard her sleep from anybody who might even think about doing her harm.
But she wasn't his, not really, and if the thing inside him didn't know that the rest of him certainly did. When Odell showed up, he made himself bow out before he did anything stupid.
He wasn't the brightest guy in the world, but even he knew that snarling at your boss wasn't the best idea.
#
But then Odell died, leaving Bex walking around with that wounded look in her eyes. She came out with them on hunts more often, clearly trying to bury herself in her work, and even though he was still wrestling with the whole thing with his mom he couldn't help but watch out for her. Not just on the job – professionally, she definitely knew what she was doing – but she was shit at taking care of herself.
So he gently prodded her into talking sometimes. Sometimes he didn't even do that, just sat next to her so she knew he was there to talk to if she needed it. Other times he was pretty sure talking wouldn't help, so he was there with a joke or distraction that would help him pull her back into the light. The snarling part of him would have insisted on it, no matter what, but the rest of him was thrilled to take on the job.
It wasn't long before they were talking even without the need to work through any trauma. They were friends, complete with stupid jokes and long, rambling conversations, and though all the stuff about Dr. Dulles and his mom being Lazarus nearly threw a wrench into the works it survived even that. She believed in him, even after all that. She kept trying to comfort him.
He loved her like he hadn't loved anybody since his parents, even though it was in an entirely different way. She and Assani were both pack, but she was more than that. She was home, enough that the thing in his chest curled up quiet and satisfied just at the thought of her. Whatever she'd needed him to do, he would have done it without hesitation.
Then his mother shot her, right in front of him.
The sight of her collapsing to the ground shut off all of his higher brain functions. The thing inside him was going insane, throwing itself mindlessly at the walls of his head, and if he'd had the teeth to do it there was a terrifyingly good chance he would have ripped out his mother's throat.
He did have a gun, though. The snarling part of him needed him to do it, demanded the death of the one who had hurt Bex, enough that his arms were shaking with the effort of not firing. The fact that his mother kept trying to goad him into it made it worse, teasing the thing inside him the way the worse neighbor kids used to tease the damn dog.
Which was the problem. He was used to not letting the snarling thing take over – it scared people, and when people were scared of you they stayed away from you – and the little bit of him that could still think would be damned before he gave the woman who'd shot Bex what she wanted.
And Bex... Bex wouldn't want him to do this. Not premeditated like this, when his mother wasn't even trying to run. Even as mindlessly enraged as it was, not even the thing inside him could bear the thought of disappointing Bex.
Then, all at once, the world changed. Bex was alive, his mom was dead, and nothing else in the world mattered more than getting his arms around Bex and feeling her breathe against him. The thing inside him wanted to curl around her as well, keep her safe, but had to content itself with Shane doing it for both of them.
For the moment, it was enough.
#
The morning after the best thing that had ever happened to him, Shane was on his best behavior.
Yeah, he was more than happy to let Bex steal a kiss when they were still in the cab of the truck – he wasn't made of stone – but he was careful not to touch her once they were in potential view of anyone else. He even tried to keep his dopey lovesick staring to a minimum, but since he was pretty sure that was happening before they got together it probably wouldn't be too noticeable.
The morning started with a brief speech by Beaumont, basically a less-honest-sounding summary of what he'd told them last night, then Bex moved to the front for a brief breakdown of their expanded mission and a rousing "go team" speech. Shane couldn't help but grin a little when she got to that part – he knew she'd be good at coaching – but he tamped it down when he felt Assani watching him instead of Bex. He knew Assani would figure it out, if they didn't just go ahead and tell him, but he didn't want people he trusted less than Assani to be able to see it, too.
Because Beaumont... Beaumont was looking at Bex. Not in the way Shane was looking at her, or even like Assani was looking at him, but more... evaluating. Maybe even in the way he could now admit his biological mother used to look at people.
And yeah, maybe that was to be expected – big boss testing the new middle management – but he could practically feel the low, threatening growl coming from the back of his brain. He shifted his attention, seeming to focus on Bex but really watching Beaumont, and after a moment he felt Assani do the same thing.
Later, he wasn't entirely surprised to find the man looming at the other end of an otherwise empty hallway. Putting on his best "cheerful jock" smile, Shane nodded as if there was nothing weird about this. "You headed for coffee? If you are, stay away from the little cinnamon creamer packets they've got in there now. There's something very off about them."
"I'll keep that in mind." Beaumont raised an eyebrow, expression shifting like he was evaluating something. "Other than the coffee creamer, how do you feel about working here?"
That wasn't the direction he'd been expecting. "I like it fine," he said neutrally. "Good travel opportunities."
Wry amusement flickered across Beaumont's face. "Any issues with your former coworker becoming your boss?"
So this was about Bex. The growl inside him got louder, but his voice stayed even. "No issues here."
Beaumont's expression turned penetrating. "Even though she killed your mother?"
There was a snarl inside his head. Shane didn't know whether this was some kind of test, or if he really was trying to get him to turn on Bex, but it didn't really matter. Even though it might have been tactically smarter, this was one thing he refused to lie about.
He leaned forward, doing a little looming of his own, and let the thing shine out from behind his eyes. It was enough that Beaumont flinched back, then seemed surprised that he'd done it. Shane gave him a slow, predatory smile. "Like i said, no issues here."
Beaumont gave him another evaluating look, but Shane just kept his smile firmly in place as Beaumont left. Once he was gone, he went to talk to Bex.
She was in Peck's old office, going through some filing cabinets, but she turned as soon as he stepped through the door. "Come to save..." She let the words trail off, expression turning serious when she saw the look on his face. "What is it?"
He moved to stand next to her at the filing cabinets, keeping his back to the glass and his voice low. "Beaumont was either testing me, or he's trying to play divide and conquer."
She frowned. "I don't know if I'm relieved or annoyed he's trying something this early."
Shane hesitated, faintly guilty. "I know I probably should have faked him out to give us something to work with, but—"
Bex shook her head, expression soft. "I'd never ask you to do that." She reached up to touch his face, knuckles gently caressing his cheek. "A guard dog's first instinct is always to protect."
And oh, that hit something deep inside him. Maybe she wouldn't have been afraid of that long-ago dog, either.
Shane had to clear his throat to hide how emotional he was. "We should make a rule. You're not allowed to be adorable anyplace I'm not allowed to kiss you about it."
When she laughed, a part of him wagged its tail.