Work Text:
Steve doesn't usually like to fight. In part because he's not good at it. He's better suited for other activities, as he's learned. He remembers all the fights he's lost over the years, stuck as a human and not able to let himself loose.
Despite all this,It is remarkably difficult not to jump into the fight that's going on right across from him. He's not hindered by his human form right now, and his hindbrain is very aware that nothing is stopping him from going in and tearing out the guy's throat, but he's been trying not to draw attention to himself. He just needed to make sure Dustin was okay without being noticed.
But Dustin's not okay right now. He's in a fight in a graveyard, outnumbered four to one. It takes all of his willpower not to run forward like a rabid animal, because he is supposed to be inconspicuous and attempting to maul someone is not inconspicuous.
Dustin is holding his own, which is enough to keep him at bay for now. He's not winning, but he's definitely giving as good as he's getting and that's enough to quiet his animalistic need to protect. It still sets him so on edge, having to sit by and watch as Dustin is hurt.
His resolve crumbles the second he sees the flash of metal. One of the boys has a knife, and is holding it up towards Dustin, and he thinks he would rather die than have to watch whatever was going to happen.
He lets himself off the leash, and he runs forward towards them. He goes straight for the one holding the knife. Steve is pretty sure his name is Andy, but he doesn't care. Right now, he's a threat, and that's all Steve cares to acknowledge.
He sinks his fangs into Andy's hand and the knife drops to the ground. He lets out a scream and he's yelling words but Steve can't find it in him to pay enough attention to understand. Andy tries to pull away, but it doesn't help at all. Steve has his teeth deep in Andy's flesh, and he doesn't want to let go, driven entirely by the instinct to hurt the person who harmed a member of his pack. He hears a pained noise from behind him, and he knows it belongs to Dustin and it's just enough to break through the red fog he's currently stuck in.
He lets go, snarling as Andy and the others run away. He's tempted to chase, but that's not what he's here for. He turns to Dustin, who's standing hunched over and pained, clearly unsure of what to do. He looks like he wants to run, but he's too hurt to be able to get very far.
Steve does his best to look as unintimitating as possible, despite being a giant wolf with blood on its mouth. He flops down on the ground and rolls over to show his stomach. He hopes it comes across as nonthreatening, enough to show Dustin he doesn't intend on attacking him.
———
Dustin isn't sure what he's looking at.
Well, his first thought is that it's a wolf. But it's more likely a dog, because wolves don't live in Indiana. The dog-wolf-thing is probably someone's pet that escaped. He also knows that it just bit Andy, and scared off all the others, but it doesn't seem to be trying to attack him at all. In fact, it's flipped over on its belly like it wants Dustin to pet it.
It's probably a guard dog, or one of those dogs that are trained to protect livestock. That would explain why it's so big, because it really is massive. It's head is level with Dustin's chest when it stands, and even though he's not a very tall person he still thinks it's abnormal for a dog to be that large.
Either way, it's now on its back and staring up at him expectantly. Or, Dustin thinks it is. He also thinks he has a cracked rib, and maybe a black eye. Possibly a concussion, but that's less likely. The point is, his decision making isn't at its best.
He's not entirely sure if it's pain or aforementioned terrible decision making that compels him to sit down, leaning his back against Eddie's gravestone. He lets out a weary sigh as he stares at the wolf (dog, he reminds himself) in front of him. It rolls onto its stomach and squirms closer, keeping close to the ground. Dustin vaguely remembers reading a book on canines, and can just barely recall that staying close to the ground is a sign of submission.
If Dustin was in his right mind, he'd leave and get away from the possibly feral animal by his side, but he wasn't. Right now, he was hurt, and grieving, and so lonely. And staring at its big brown eyes, Dustin really couldn't find it in himself to run away.
So he pets the dog. It's fur is unbelievably soft. It's clearly well cared for and well trained. Dustin doesn't know what a dog like this is doing alone in a graveyard, but he's not complaining. “You don't even have a collar. Who's dog are you?”
The dog doesn't say anything back, only lays its big fluffy head on Dustin's legs and wags its tail. Dustin heaves a sigh and looks out of the graveyard. He's so tired, and he kind of wants to cry. His body hurts and he misses Eddie. Worse, he misses Steve.
Steve, who he's been avoiding. He doesn't have any right to feel sad and angry about missing Steve when it's entirely self-inflicted. He just doesn't want him to get hurt. He knows he couldn't handle it if he had to watch Steve die.
He's brought out of his spiral by the dog bumping it's snout against him and then flopping directly on top of him. Dustin lets out a groan, his body aching, but it brings him out of his spiral so he guesses he can't complain.
“I wonder what kind of dog you are.” He murmurs, running his hands though it's soft fur. “I wish I knew your name. You're a good boy.” He hummed, looking at it. Aside from the blood around its massive set of teeth, it was remarkably clean. It's fur was soft and shiny, and it seemed determined to cheer him up. It clearly was well groomed, and Dustin finds himself wondering again about its owner.
“Whoever let you out of the house without a collar is an idiot. I'm gonna name you Cerberus. It's after the guardian of the underworld in Greek mythology. Seems pretty fitting, since we're in a graveyard and since you just bit someone to protect me.” He doesn't know why he's explaining it. Cerberus clearly doesn't get it. The look on the dog's face reminds him of Steve- patient and trying to understand. It's a ridiculous thought, but he's also talking to a dog, so he may as well just admit he's certifiably insane at this point.