Transformation

[Acorn]

​

Leon often questioned his life decisions and today was no different. If he'd been thinking with his head and not his stomach, he would've turned down the extra shift at the restaurant. But tuition was due and he didn't want to live off snatched leftovers and ramen noodles for the next two weeks, so he'd worked late on the one day he should've left early, and now the bus was taking fucking forever.

He shifted in his seat, turning so he could look out the window to the passing street. The sky had turned navy with streaks of pink and purple, and streetlights flickered on, signaling the impending night. The bus was still at least a mile out, and he clenched his jaw when he heard the squeaking and hissing of brakes as they came to a jarring stop. His fingers tapped a rapid-fire beat on his knee and his eyes darted to the people standing to exit the bus, back out the window, and again to the people shuffling along at a snail's pace. At the rate things were going, he'd get there faster if he ran.

He surged to his feet, shouldered his backpack, and made his way to the front of the bus while craning his neck to see past the line. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," he said under his breath, bouncing back and forth on the balls of his feet. Finally, his turn came, and he hit the ground at a run, eliciting sharp protests from those he pushed through.

The farther he ran, the more strained his expression became; it felt like someone had grabbed a dial in his head and turned all his settings to max. Glaring headlights of cars whooshing by made his eyes water and he scrubbed at his face with the heels of his palms. Every breath that powered his long strides brought smells that had no right being smelled in the first place; it was all shit and piss and unwashed bodies. He could hear everything: his shoes slapping against the sidewalk, startled gasps as he darted past people, his heart pounding away, his ribs cracking and expanding in his chest -- he registered the sound before the pain hit, and it caused him to grunt and double over. He pushed on at a stumbling run with his arms clutched around his middle, his teeth gritted against the feeling of his body beginning to tear itself apart.

He wasn't going to make it in time.

---

Alice and her partner had spent their shift patrolling the perimeter of an unassuming concrete office building. Over the course of the evening, a handful of people had walked through its frosted glass doors, casting furtive glances their way before disappearing inside. Otherwise, the entire block remained as empty as it always was. They were in a commercial district, surrounded by vacant storefronts and closed office buildings, no one else had reason to be there.

There had been a small group of teens that had stopped for a time to gather around a friend with a pack of cigarettes, but they'd been quick to leave when she'd pulled back one side of her black jacket to reveal a padded vest, silver badge, and gun attached to her hip. She'd kept her best stern face on until they skittered away, then snorted a laugh and grinned up at her taller partner. If the past couple months were any indicator, that was the most excitement they'd see for the night despite the full moon rising in the sky, and they were safe to resume their prior discussion.

"Right, so," she said, tucking a stray piece of blonde that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear, "I used chunky peanut butter in the batter this time instead of creamy. I think they turned out better than my last batch. Did you get a chance to try them? Left them in the break room."

 

[Meraki]

This wasn't what she signed up for, but it sure as hell beat spending her nights in an empty apartment.

Rita stretched her arms up over her head, the pull of her Kevlar vest settling in her ribcage. Most nights were paperwork and small talk, but on nights where the full moon was high in the sky they hit the streets things changed. She knew deep down that she should have slept more, but it was hard to sleep in a bed two sizes too big so she ran through case files on the couch for what seemed like hours. Just like every full moon, she would drive into work and manage a cup of coffee, a little small talk, and settle next to her partner, Alice. Now, Alice was something else entirely. Never had Rita seen someone with such a sunny disposition, but she wasn't the worst company on long night shifts and she brought cookies.

So how the hell could Rita be upset with her lot?

"I mean, you know who you're talking to right?" Rita raised an eyebrow at Alice, "I would eat any cookie you put in front of me – chunky peanut butter or not. But yeah, they were good. Always are."

How she managed to find time to bake before most shifts? Rita would never know. The last couple months were just filled with going through the motions for her. Wake up, shower, eat, work, and try to manage a bit of existence in between. Somedays she could manage the grocery store, others she had to order in, but it was a gradual movement in the right direction. Someday, things would figure themselves out, but it was just a process of waking up with hope and going to bed disappointed. Someday never really seemed to come.

"Target incoming."

"Come again?" Rita snapped out of her thoughts and their conversation to turn her attention to her earpiece, "Did you just say target incoming?"

"Code Black," the voice called back to her, "Cunningham and Mason, acquire the target by non-lethal means."

A werewolf and they couldn't kill it? Rita shook her head and turned to Alice. It wasn't the first they had seen since being put together, but it was certainly the first time they were in direct line of the target. What better time to face the devil than the present? "We—" she was cut off by the sound of bones cracking and she heart skipped a series of beats. Her head snapped around to see a full grown werewolf taking fast, lengthy strides towards them. Teeth bared, eyes locked, and the sound of the snarl reverberated through the city around them. "Alice! Move!" Rita called out, shoving her partner and diving out of the immediate charge of the werewolf. Scrambling up from the ground, Rita drew her gun and held it steady, her heart beating ferociously in her chest.

Don't you think there are better ways to cope? Her therapist had asked once.

Her first shot rang out, but just barely missed the towering shoulder of the best.

If there was, she couldn't think of a single one.

 

[Acorn]

Alice, unbalanced and taken by surprise, hit the ground tail first. Though she hadn't had a long way to fall, it still took the air from her lungs. She stared at the werewolf from her sprawled position, mouth agape, until Rita's gun came to life and shocked her back to her senses.

There wasn't enough time to fully process what was going on, but that's where all her training was meant to take over. She clamored to her feet, pulled her gun and kept it trained on the creature. It only stopped in its rampage long enough to change direction, turning towards the source of the first gunshot. Towards Rita.

Alice's whole demeanor had changed, all traces of smiles and laughter were gone. She'd transformed into a stern-eyed extension of a firearm. She assessed and gauged; it would've been easiest to unload a clip of silver bullets into the werewolf's chest, or its head, end it then and there, but an order was an order. Non-lethal. She paused, redirected the aim of her weapon to a non-vital area instead... where silver wouldn't kill but would disable. In that split moment of hesitation, the werewolf leaped at and fell onto Rita with supernatural speed, a flash of dark fur, teeth, claws, and less-than-friendly intentions.

The bottom fell out of her stomach. This werewolf was big, one of the biggest she'd seen, but she couldn't guarantee that a bullet wouldn't cut through it and hit Rita, too.

She'd never felt so helpless.

 

[Meraki]

Thud.

Rita hit the ground with enough force to tear the air straight from her lungs. She gasped for a moment before she felt the weight pressed on top of her. It was the closest she had ever come to one, its eyes powerful and piercing. She noted the sneer of its teeth in the split second between breaths. She wondered, for a moment, if this is what he had felt like that night…no. She yanked herself from her own subconscious and anchored herself in the pain settling into her chest. She hit the ground hard and while she would have loved to lie there forever, she was too determined to just lie down.

Her training kicked in immediately, sending both of her feet up until she could press them flat footed against its chest. Then she pushed hard. It was a single moment, like a spring exploding to life, but it moved the beast up enough that she could roll out from underneath him and level her gun. One clean shot. The shot rang out against the night air and the creature let out a painful yelp at the feeling of the bullet grazing its shoulder. This time it left a bullet wound, a graze just deep enough that she could see the blood seeping through the fur. Just enough not to kill. Just barely enough.

Rita could feel the bruises hot on her skin, a bit of blood dripping from her palms where she had caught herself on the concrete. Everything was numb, the only feeling was the gentle thrum of adrenaline coursing through her body as she made her way back towards Alice. Rita was not one for too much company anymore, but she knew that against a werewolf? Two minds, two guns were better than one. "We have to sedate him," Rita called out as she reached with her free hand to the pack on her belt. A simple syringe with just enough sedative to take the thing down, but they needed a clean shot.

As the werewolf turned and locked n on them, Rita glanced over at Alice. "Think you can get his attention so I can get this into his back?"

 

[Acorn]

She let out the breath she didn't know she'd been hanging onto when Rita escaped from underneath the werewolf, seemingly unscathed. And if that wasn't enough, Rita had conjured a plan. Alice liked plans. Well, except for the part where she needed to play bait. She grimaced at Rita but nodded. It didn't make any sense to try and inject the tranquilizer from the front, where all the teeth and claws were. Unless, of course, the goal was to be eaten.

"Right," she said, and squared her shoulders. "Heeere boy." The werewolf's head, more wolf than human with its long snout and yellow eyes, swiveled towards her. She swallowed, and her heart pounded so hard in her chest that for a moment, it was all she could hear or feel. Her hands trembled and her gun shook, but she took a deep, steadying breath and they became still again.

"Come on. Come to me." She took several steps back and the werewolf snorted, eyeing her and--to her surprise--her still raised gun. It was fortunate for her, she supposed, that the creature was wary of their weapons. She took another step back, and the werewolf took a step forward but didn't move any farther. It swung around to look at Rita and growled.

Alice lowered her gun a notch to fire two shots at one of its legs. Attention-getting shots. As long as she kept it below the waist, then she didn't need to worry about it killing the beast. It'd hurt like a sonofabitch, but wouldn't kill. The werewolf cried out, and there was an eerie human undertone to the sound. It faced Alice again and took several tentative limping steps, testing the pain and apparently judging it tolerable because it picked up speed as it moved her direction, lips peeled back in a snarl.

"Now is good," she said, backpedaling. "Now, please. Rita? Rita!"

 

[Meraki]

Rita had never run so fast in her life.

The moment Alice gave her the all clear, her feet exploded off the concrete with the same fervor they had during her late high school years. She was stronger now, faster, but she remembered being timed in track every single heat one after the other. Faster, Rita. Faster. She bolted as fast as her legs would carry her until she was up alongside the werewolf and she took one powerful step before she leapt from the concrete up onto its back. It noticed immediately and mid-charge, the wolf screeched to a halt and nearly threw Rita off the back immediately. Rita clung on for dear life and pulled the cap off before digging the needle into its back. "Alice! Move!" Rita called out as the werewolf reared back and swung to and fro in desperation to get Rita off.

She hadn't really thought that far ahead, but she had two options: hold on for dear life or be thrown to the concrete. Only one of those sounded like a less painful option.

She dug her hands into the fur and clung tightly as the beast thrashed. The cries were blood curdling and almost human in the pain they emoted, but Rita kept herself objective. They needed to get him down and get him inside. After that, they could deal with the rest – the injuries, the paperwork, the whole nine yards. With one last powerful thrash, Rita went flying off of the werewolf's back and slammed to the concrete nearly twenty feet away before rolling a bit of a distance more. The pain of the impact was immediate and Rita let out a pain yelp at the landing.

The air was swept from her lungs and her back immediately shot to life with little pains. She could feel the blood on her left arm from where she hit the concrete and it shredded the fabric and some of her skin. "Fuck," Rita breathed under her breath as she tried to push herself up, "Fucking ow."

Her eyes caught the image of the werewolf as he collapsed to the concrete in a heap of fur and a bit of blood. Rita felt the breath slowly fill her lungs and she exhaled at the sight. That wasn't so bad. "Target acquired," Rita called back in between deep breaths over her earpiece, "Ready for extraction."

She looked up at find Alice's eyes and let an amused smirk appear. She pushed herself up just enough to get a good look at her. "You alright?" she asked, "I told you when we met, I'd never really let you be werewolf bait."

 

[Acorn]

Alice stood a few steps away from the werewolf that, by all appearances, was down for the count. To make sure, she inched closer and nudged at a dark furry shoulder with her boot. Nothing. She lowered her gun and laughed, though it sounded reedy even to her own ears. "Me? I'm fine, what about you? You're the one who got all close and personal with big guy here."

Saving Rita from having to answer, the frosted doors of the office building opened, and out came a tall woman in a black knee-length dress and a white lab coat, brunette hair pulled back in a tidy bun. Her high heels clicked smartly on the asphalt as she approached them. Alice holstered her gun, absentmindedly reached underneath her jacket to smoothen her kevlar vest, and stood a little straighter. Her mouth twisted up and she shook her head when she realized what she'd done; it was ridiculous to primp while her partner was still on the ground.

Hot on the woman's heels were two men in jumpsuits pushing an orange stretcher and a handful of people in gear like Rita and Alice's, but they were carting assault rifles. Non-lethal her ass. If that werewolf got up again, she didn't doubt they'd load it full of bullets.

When Dr. Jenny reached Rita, she knelt on both knees beside her. She dug about in one of her coat pockets and pulled out a pair of latex gloves, but didn't move to put them on yet. "You took quite the tumble there at the end. How are you feeling?" There was something behind the question, a hint of being concerned for more than Rita's physical well-being, and the doctor's expression mirrored it -- her artfully plucked eyebrows were drawn low and her hazel eyes searched Rita's.

The stretcher whizzed by and their fellow Enforcers fanned out around the werewolf. Alice took that as a sign to make herself scarce and joined the doctor and Rita, where she stood with her arms crossed over her chest and listened to the jumpsuited men's muttered curses as they worked to roll the werewolf onto the lowered stretcher.

 

[Meraki]

"It feels about as great as it looked," Rita laughed and pushed herself so she was at least sitting upright on the concrete. To be honest, it hurt. Everything ached and she could feel the blood seeping through the rips in her jacket from the friction of her skidded fall against the sidewalk. Her palms were a bit torn up as well, but a simple enough fix. What she could do without was the unbelievable pressure in her chest still lingering from when he knocked the wind out of her not once, but twice. It was all very thrilling, though. She thought that she would be more scared, but the adrenaline just coursed through her veins and ignited them like it was made of lightning.

Before she could say anything else, Jenny got there and knelt down next to Rita. She could tell immediately from the sound of her voice that Dr. Jenny was prying for something deeper. "If you're asking if I got scratched or bit or anything," Rita grunted as she shifted her weight, "No, I didn't. I'm fine, it's just a couple of scrapes and bruises."

Maybe a bit of material for her therapist, but there was nothing to talk about in that moment. She knew the look, the careful words and kind eyes. They all knew, she had a file, but this was not the time for that. Honestly, Rita wasn't sure there would ever be a right time. Nine months and it still ached in her chest as terribly as it did the first. Every single day she faced it. Every single day she woke up in a bed two sizes too big and made too much breakfast for just one person out of habit. She was still finding his things scattered about but she had resorted to keeping them in boxes until she could figure out what to do. Who did you send those kinds of things to? Next of kin? But that was her, so she just conceded and lived with ghosts around every corner.

"It's just my arm, my hands just need a good and a few band aids," Rita self-assessed, anything to pull her mind from the real question at hand, "It's him you should check. That was a pretty firm non-lethal call there. You should probably check that we didn't accidentally nick him wrong. He caught us a bit off guard."

 

[Acorn]

"A bit off guard." Alice pulled a face at Rita. "If you hadn't pushed me out of the way, I… Thanks for that, by the way."

Jenny glanced up at Alice and slipped her gloves back into her pocket. She remained silent for a long moment, then nodded. "You were fortunate." If the brunette saw Alice's beaming smile, she didn't react. Her expression remained passive as she looked over at werewolf that was now being tied down to the stretcher. "We'll take care of him, but we have to get him inside first. Won't be long now."

"Hey, come to think of it," Alice said, uncrossing her arms to point over at one of the Enforcers--an older, stocky man, with with salt and pepper hair and a goatee. Her voice became elevated in volume as she continued speaking, "We wouldn't have been caught off guard if you'd given us more warning. Don't we microchip them? And what about getting some guys posted on the rooftops, huh? I've been saying that for--"

"Put it in the suggestion box, Cunningham," he interrupted in a tired tone.

"What? There is no suggestion box."

His weathered face wore the start of a smirk as he walked by them, leading the lupine procession: werewolf, stretcher and jumpsuits in the middle, rifles at the sides and back.

"Oh, come on!" Alice threw her hands up. "Really? That's it. You can't have any more of my cookies."

"Don't like your cookies anyway."

"Fuck off! I saw you eating them earlier!"

The doctor shook her head and reached out to pat Rita's shoulder. "Come by my office if you need anything." And with that, she stood and followed after the group.

"He's such an asshole," said Alice, but she was grinning. She watched them walk away for a moment, and then held her hand out to Rita. "Let's get out of here."

---

In one of the many subterranean levels of the building was a row of square cells; they were all solid concrete on three sides, with the fourth front wall consisting of a shatter-proof glass panel lined with thick metal bars. There was a digital pad on both sides that allowed access and egress via key card to the rooms through an inlaid door. One of the cells contained a werewolf that paced around the perimeter, a typically smooth gait marred by how heavily he favored one leg. Periodically, the creature would stop his roaming to sit, sniff at two oozing holes on his thigh, and lap at them with a long tongue while emitting a high pitched whine.

His whining increased in frequency the more he circled, and was eventually punctuated by a yelp. The werewolf stumbled and shook his great head. Another stumbling step, then another, and like the floor had been ripped out from underneath him, the beast fell heavily onto his side and groaned. He tried to lift himself again, but his limbs were breaking, shifting and shortening, making it impossible to right himself. A shudder went through the creature and he curled up, sides heaving with short, distressed breaths. Fur began to recede in patches, revealing olive toned skin and dark curly hair. The last thing that remained of the wolf were yellow eyes, and eventually they too made way for a more human chocolate brown before he squeezed them shut.

He curled into an even more compact ball, trembling, still breathing in shallow gasps. The concrete was cold, inescapable, but it gave him something to focus on until he could center himself. He tilted his neck back, opened his eyes, and familiar flat gray walls swam into focus.

He'd made it, then. Somehow, he'd made it.

Leon uncurled himself, every muscle aching like he'd had the flu, and lifted himself onto one elbow, noting with fuzzy detachment that his shoulder stung. He rubbed at it and winced. When he tried to move his legs beneath him so he could push himself into a sitting position, a radiating pain jolted up from his thigh and his vision grew dark around the edges. His breath came in hard bursts and he blinked owlishly until the faintness passed. Jesus Christ, what was that? He looked down and squinted at two holes that were actively leaking blood, touched them gingerly and hissed.

"The fuck?" he said.

Were those... bullet holes?

 

[Meraki]

Rita shook her head and took Alice's hand. The blonde helped her from the ground and they made their way into the facility. She was, of course, immediately dragged from Alice's side to the infirmary to check out her injuries. No matter how many times she said it, they had to be sure that she wasn't infected, and she couldn't blame them. Discarding her torn jacket and Kevlar, Rita made her way out of the infirmary with nothing but a black tank top and her arm bandaged up. It didn't take her long to tell from the scrambling that there was some sort of malfunction with the monitoring system. She immediately swerved out of the way for engineers and scientists all scrambling left and right, in and out of labs.

"Mason!"

"Hm?" Rita turned to see Dr. Ross step out of the infirmary and wave her back, "Bring this downstairs, will you? Just got a call that no one's tended to our friend yet."

"Friend, yeah," Rita shook her head and took the box of first aid, "I'll make sure he gets patched up."

Rita turned on her heel and made her way down deep into the subterranean levels of the base. There were so many people moving around the corridors that it felt like an ant hill, but Rita made her way through the maze expertly. During long shifts, she liked to take walks through the building to clear her mind, and often times she found herself down here. It was only lively on a full moon, but otherwise it was pretty subdued. Tonight, however, it was packed with bodies just rushing back and forth like the weight of the world was on their shoulders. Little did they know that it was, for some people – this place was their only hope.

"What can I help you with?" one of the attending nurses stopped her with a hand but her eyes were clearly focusing on a hundred other things at the same time.

"Dr. Ross wanted me to bring down these supplies," Rita answered.

"You can set them by container F, we got the bullets out. Just need to find time to pack and bandage it."

Rita watched as the woman scampered off and Rita shook her head. "Yeah, no problem," she muttered to no one in particular. Container F, then. She made her way down the hallway, each container holding a now standing and function man, or even in some cases, women. Only when she hit Container F did her heart thump painfully in her chest. The werewolf…man. He was sitting on the cold floor with his leg clutched. Blood poured out. What kind of crap was that? They took out bullets and just left him bleeding?

Rita hesitated a moment and was about to put the case down for whoever's job it was but she felt a pang of guilt. That same annoying guilt that Chase used to say made her a good person and good at her job. Little did he anticipate all of this. What would he think? What would he think of Rita stepping in to help the very kind of creature that took his life? He'd be proud of her. That fucking idiot would have told her that they weren't all the same. It was so maddening sometimes.

She hated that she knew him so well. She hated that his voice was in her head and heart. But most of all, she hated that he was right, that his memory still tried to drive her to good like he always had. "Fucking hell," Rita cursed as she keyed into the room and stepped inside. The door shut securely behind her, almost menacing in sound. "I wouldn't move if I were you," Rita spoke finally, "The bleeding will only get worse."

Rita approached him and crouched down to inspect his leg. Alice had taken a pretty damn clean shot. She made note to compliment her later on it. "Though it's not too bad considering how many people you could have killed tonight."

 

[Acorn]

As soon as he heard the lock release, Leon's hands flew to cover himself. He was especially glad that he'd done so when he got a good look at the guard. Of course she was gorgeous. Of course, because that's what he needed right now: an attractive woman to tend to him when he was exposed and at his most vulnerable. Normally, he would've already been dressed, but he could add the absence of his clothes to the growing list of out of the ordinary and unexpected.

He shifted despite her instructions, trying to sit up straighter and bring his leg into better view without sacrificing his decency, and as promised, more blood trickled out before the flow ebbed again. "Oh," he said sheepishly, and stopped moving.

Leon watched her until she spoke again, then he tensed and shook his head. No, that wasn't right. He was at the facility, in his nice little cell, ass growing numb from the cold concrete that threatened to seep into his very bones. He'd made it in time. If he hadn't made it, he wouldn't have woken up at all -- just like he'd been promised.

We'll deal with you to the fullest extent necessary, they'd said.

To his mind, that meant that if he fucked up and shifted to his werewolf form outside of the base, they'd put a quick end to him. It'd been an effective warning, and for the past two years, he'd made sure to be where he needed to be several hours in advance, and the last thing he'd remember when he woke up were the gray walls of his cell. But he'd been running late this time, and the last thing he recalled were the streets, bright shining lights, the stink, the pain, then nothing. Add to that the bullet wounds and it became less and less likely that things had gone down the way he hoped.

"Could have?" His voice sounded syrupy thick, and he cleared his throat before continuing, "I didn't hurt anyone, did I?" His eyes went to the bandage on her arm. Was he responsible for that?

 

[Meraki]

"You're fine," Rita reassured him as he attempted to cover himself as best he could. In her heart, she cursed herself for being so cordial, but it was who she was. She had worked in public relations for a reason, after all. "Let me get this patched up and then I'll figure out where they put your clothes, alright?"

He seemed harmless. Well, not entirely harmless. He was a strong build with an even stronger jawline, thick curls and olive toned skin. Sometimes she forgot that werewolves started off as humans and returned back to them, too. If she had accidentally bumped into this man on the sidewalk, she would have apologized warmly and even struck up a conversation with him. He had warm, inviting eyes and it disarmed her a bit. She was having a difficult time shaking the thought of the beast she fought from her head. The werewolf that nearly tried to kill her and Alice. The very same beast that injured her arm.

But there was genuine regret in his eyes when he glanced at her bandaged arm. Everything in her had wanted him to feel bad, to understand the danger he put others in, but she simply shook her head and felt her brown locks swing. "In your defense," Rita said finally, "I shot at you first. These aren't my fault, but the graze on your shoulder is."

"You made about a quarter of a mile from the facility before you transformed. You were already on route to us, but you just needed a little bit of coaxing to get back this way. Well, maybe a lot of coaxing, but you made it and no one got that hurt. Just – you can't pull that again, alright?" Rita explained as she focused on his wound. It was easier to speak when she wasn't looking him in the eye. She wanted to scream and yell and argue, but he was bleeding. Maybe he was some girl's Chase, and she wasn't about to let him die for her own petty agenda. "I don't know what the higher ups are thinking right now, but they made the non-lethal call, so you're probably not in too much trouble."

"Hold this for me," she placed his hand to apply pressure to his leg wound as she glanced at his shoulder. That was the much simpler wound to deal with, so she cleaned it and bandaged it up nice and comfortably tight. She moved back to his leg and peeled his hand back just enough to pack the wound with gauze and bandage it off tightly. "You're going to have to be careful for a bit, it's definitely not the nicest feeling to walk on a bullet wound, let alone two."

Rita tossed the supplies back into the kit and peeled off her gloves. There was an immediate tug in her arm but she brushed it off and kept on moving. Clearing her throat, Rita glanced back up to him and let a soft smile find her lips. "Any better?"

"I'm not doctor, but," she shrugged, "figured it was better than bleeding out."

 

[Acorn]

Leon did his best to make her job easier, moving when instructed and otherwise trying not to get in the way. Her hands were graceful, sure in their movements, and put him at ease much like her words did.

Despite coming face to face with a werewolf, and despite having one of his arms gnawed on like it was some goddamned chew toy (leaving it mangled and to this day, heavily scarred), it'd taken an Enforcer showing him a video of his first transformation for it to truly sink in: he needed to be locked away during the full moon.

All the gaps in his memory were periods the beast took over entirely. There was nothing of him left when he changed, nothing to keep him from hurting someone: a child, a parent, her. He considered himself lucky they let him leave at all, that they trusted him to return to the base each month, and let him lead a somewhat normal life in between. Even if there was a punishment for his royal fuckup, if they kept him in the gray cell always, it'd suck, but he'd understand. Surely it was better than the alternative where they put him down like a... well, a dog.

It was the absence of her hands that drew him back from his thoughts, and he caught her question just as it flitted by.

He nodded, mirroring her smile.

And his eyes found hers. They were vibrant, unbelievably green, like something plucked right out of nature, like the needles of a pine tree. God, stop staring. But he couldn't look away. Did she know how strikingly green they were in the midst of all that dark hair? Probably. How could you not know what your eyes looked like?

You're still staring. Stop being weird.

He glanced away, then back again, breathing a laugh and a muttered 'sorry'.

Oh, Christ, it had to be the blood loss, throbbing pain of his leg, his recent stint as a werewolf or maybe a combination of all three. He hadn't been this bumbling around a girl since middle school, for fuck's sake.

"I uh... I'm Leon." He grimaced. "You probably know that already, right?" Stop talking, for the love of all that is holy- "With working here and all, and me being... well, y'know. I don't know your name, though."

He clamped his mouth shut.

 

[Meraki]

He was definitely staring.

Rita was used to it, honestly. Working with quite a large population of men, Rita experienced a bit of attention. It was a bit disarming, however, because he seemed so innocent in the way his eyes found hers like he had never seen a pair of green eyes before. She realized that their eyes locked for a moment and glanced back down to her hands, his wound, but it was hard given the fact that he was still very unclothed in front of her. He muttered a quick sorry and she chuckled at the comment. "Don't worry about it," she offered, "you've been through a lot tonight. We can blame it on the blood loss."

It made her a bit uneasy, though. When was the last time someone had looked at her like that? When she used to go home after a long day, Chase would be there with open arms and a bright smile. He always looked her in the eye when he whispered a stolen "I love you" and she forced herself to shake off the memory. He seemed like a nice enough guy, but this whole night had just done a number on her psyche. She had come down here with the intent to place all of her blame on the supposed beast in front of her, but he was anything but that beast. Once, Dr. Jenny had explained to her that most humans lose control during their transformation and that's what made it such a curse.

She couldn't imagine blacking out and waking up without the knowledge of whether or not she killed someone. It had to be maddening. She thought about it for a moment – the werewolf that had attacked Chase – and she wondered if he knew the next morning. She wondered if he woke up in some alley with the knowledge that he had ripped away the love of someone's life.

"Leon," Rita repeated and smiled up at him, the name igniting her memory, "Right. Leon Alvarez, right? I've read your file, but I'd never put a face to the name. Feels a little inappropriate to shake your hand when you're not…well, you know." Clothed.

"Rita," she clarified with a laugh, "Like Rita Hayworth, the old film star. I know it's strange, but my mom was obsessed with her when she was my age." Though she was certain he didn't care much. It was just a dumb little fact that she felt the need to point out, considering her entire childhood had been filled with the reference. At least she beat most people to it, usually.

"Considering the strange circumstance, it's nice to meet you. Sorry I shot you."

 

[Acorn]

Leon stopped ducking eye contact and hazarded a smile when she excused his behavior. She'd even laughed a little. That meant she hadn't written him off as a complete dolt. His smile grew even wider, bordering on a grin when she rattled off his full name, but it dimmed in its brilliance when she mentioned a file and brought attention to his nakedness again. He looked down to make sure his hands still covered all the important parts, and looked back up, chagrined.

He'd thought he'd been exposed before, but she'd read his file. She probably had access to all the shit that he didn't even remember. Did they know all the things he Googled? Would they track that? At the very least, she'd know everywhere he went physically, because of the microchip they'd jammed into his shoulder. She'd know his life was pathetically predictable -- that there were only a handful of places he ever went that weren't his apartment: work, campus, and the cell they were in right now.

Maybe he should take up a hobby so he looked interesting on paper. Rock climbing? That was cool. When she mentioned she'd been named in the honor of some actress he'd never heard of, he wondered if the hobby should be film watching. But no, that was stalkerish.

"It's alright." He shrugged and tried not to wince at the resulting pain that shot up his shoulder and into his neck, but failed. "You got me all patched up. I appreciate it." He fell silent, eyes shifting about as an awkward silence welled between them. Naked and occasionally shivering him and beautiful Rita.

"So... Clothes," he said, finally. "I usually change out of them before they put me in here, but hell if I know what happened to them this time. Wouldn't be surprised if my other half shredded 'em out of spite." He nodded towards the door. "Nurses might have some spare clothes, but I don't think I'm supposed to leave yet. Think you could help me out one more time?"

 

[Meraki]

"Yeah, of course," Rita said, realizing that it had been her intention all along. She never wanted to get mixed up in conversation or pleasantries, but it was against her nature to scorn. She tried. Every single day the pain in her heart would convince her that there was so much she wasn't doing and so many werewolves that needed to be stopped, but she always fell back to the same old excuse. She just did not have it in her. It frustrated her that someone like Leon could just transform out in public, but he was not the person or beast she was angry with. It was the man who had killed her fiancé that she felt actual rage bubble up in her stomach over. She was lucky that it was Leon tonight and not that man.

Or their conversation would have gone much differently.

"Let me check, hang tight," Rita pushed herself up off the ground and picked up the box of supplies she had brought in. Within a moment, she was back at the door keying out and settling the supplies at the nurses' station. When she caught sight of one of the nurses, she pulled the woman aside. "I need clothes for Container F, any way you can help me out?" she asked and the woman rifled through a drawer before pulling out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. It wasn't much, but the waistband on the pants would help Leon get it over his wound.

She had to stop calling him by name. What was his case file number again?

Making her way back, Rita let herself back inside and held out the clothes as a peace offering of sorts. "Sorry, this is the best I can do," she smiled sheepishly, "I hope they fit, but they'll at least get you out of here. Just let me know if you want to try and get out of this room. I've got the clearance to sign you out, if you're not in too much pain. Not sure they want you to leave the building, but not everywhere is as awful as it is down here."

"I just can't imagine that a concrete floor is that appealing."

Handing off the clothes, Rita stood and turned, her hand over her eyes. "Go ahead, I promise I won't peek."

 

[Acorn]

He'd feared that she'd leave and a nurse - probably cranky Johanna, who had a face like an old deflated potato - would return in her place with clothes, so was pleased to see Rita return. She was far more pleasant to be around, both in appearance and ability to do more than curse at him in German every time he made a joke. And he was grateful it sounded like she'd be hanging out with him until he got situated, since he was sure she had important files to read and Google searches to pore over.

"It's not particularly nice. Little cold for my liking," he said with a laugh, examining the proffered clothes. Once he sorted out what was what, he eased the pants on, grunting as he shifted his legs and lifted his hips and inched the fabric up. Funny how a simple task like getting dressed became infinitely more painful after losing a gunfight. His shirt was next, and with minimal cursing, he had it over his head; it fit surprisingly well, and was loose enough in the shoulders he could move without it hurting too much.

Now it was time for the real challenge: standing up without passing out. He didn't want his third favor from her to be picking him up off the ground. After several deep breaths, he set his jaw and lurched to his feet. Searing bolts of pain shot up his leg. His vision swarmed with a thousand black dots and there was a high-pitched ringing in his ears.

"Oh fuck," he said, stumbling to the nearest wall so he could use it as support. He leaned heavily against it with his good shoulder, breathing hard, head lowered and curls spilling over his brow, the world teetering about like he'd been on an all-night bender.

"Just need a second," he slurred. "Did that too fast."

 

[Meraki]

"I bet," she laughed, eyes still covered with her hand.

It took a moment, but eventually he was pulled together. She could hear him shifting and tugging on the clothes, but what really stood out was the sharp intake of breath. She turned immediately and opened her eyes, the image in front of her setting of her protective nature. She didn't owe Leon anything, but watching him try to stand and stumble up against the wall settled in her heart painfully. She shook her head. "Hey, you're going to make it worse."

She closed the distance between them and placed her hand on his back. She couldn't get him any pain killers until they made it up to the actual human floors of this place. Then, she could swipe him something to make it more comfortable, but the bullet wounds would take a bit to heal – even as a werewolf. She could see the blood seeping through his bandages just a bit and she wasn't about to let him end up killing himself by pushing it too far.

"You don't need a second," she clarified, "you got shot. That doesn't take a second. Here, give me your arm." Rita took his bicep and wrapped his arm around her shoulders so she could take most of his weight. She was relatively strong – between her day (often night) job, kickboxing and running, she didn't really consider herself out of shape. It was hard to be a college track enthusiast and not maintain it as the years passed. Luckily, her injured arm was occupied holding his hand around her shoulder while her good arm was strong around his waist to help lift him up. She tried as hard as she could to not hurt his injured shoulder.

"Dr. Jenny can get you something good," she promised, "At least something that can make this a little less painful for you. Come on, don't be afraid to put your weight on me. I'm a big, tough girl. I can handle it." The last comment was made in a jest, a smirk on her lips.

"Just tell me if we're going too fast, okay?"

 

[Acorn]

"Couple seconds, then," he said, smiling faintly, but he didn't try to argue his case further nor fight her when she situated herself for him to use as support. She had offered to be the life preserver in the middle of the rocking sea, and if she said she could get him to someone who could make him feel better, then he would cling to her as long as necessary — dignity be damned.

He looked up cautiously and found the walls and floors were only sliding now, like butter over the surface of a hot pancake, and found something closer to focus on: Rita, her warm arm around his waist, hand anchoring his arm around her shoulder. Even in his addled state, he recognized that she wasn't made of the same soft stuff a lot of women were and if he'd been fostering any doubt about her capabilities, that would've erased it.

Even still, when they started moving, he tried to only lean on her every other step when he wanted to avoid putting his full weight on his bad leg. He was quiet as they made their way out of the room and past all the other now empty cells. Pain made everything hazy, and he concentrated on each step, keeping silent count of each successful one until he lost count and had to start over again.

The highest he ever made it was ten.

Although there were offers of breaks, Leon plodded on, insisting it'd take more effort to get going again than to keep walking. Just when it felt like he couldn't possibly take another step, they stopped and he looked up to see a plaque with swimming golden letters that he struggled to read but felt like acknowledging anyway.

"Fancy." Then, with a sigh, he rested his forehead on the wooden doorframe.

He vaguely registered a light tapping noise, the movement of air as the door opened, an exchange of words, then he was being guided again, led through the doorway and to a plush chair that he sank gracelessly into. There was a familiar beep just behind him, like that of a barcode being scanned, and he caught a blur of white and a soft floral scent. Perfume. Something was pressed into his hand and he opened it to see two small pills before a paper cup with water made its way into his other hand.

"Take them," he heard, and he did so unquestioningly. The water was refreshingly cool and woke his body to the fact that he hadn't had anything to drink since he'd turned.

"He shouldn't have walked all this way." He blinked up at the source of the voice, a woman in a white lab coat standing next to him, thin fingers resting lightly on the back of his chair. Leon craned his neck around even farther to see that Rita was still there. Rita. He smiled at her, but he didn't see if she responded in kind, because the pain from twisting about caught up with him and he faced forward again, frowning. They weren't talking to him anyway, just talking about him.

"Wait here, give the hydrocodone a chance to start working," it was the woman — doctor — again, "I'll find some crutches for him in the meantime."

He heard the door open and shut, but remained looking ahead at a wall that was empty save for several ornately framed certificates. His leg still throbbed, but sitting and resting had helped him recover some of his wit.

"Wouldn't have walked if room service didn't suck," he muttered.

 

[Meraki]

Rita was used to being scolded, especially by Dr. Jenny.

It took a psych evaluation to procure this job and sitting down with the woman had been intimidating to say the least. At first, Rita thought they would refuse her based on her history, but they seemed to find her more than qualified to work on supernatural and human relations. It took a bit of nudging to get a gun and training, but she knew that none of them regretted hiring her. Rita was nothing if not good at her job. She showed up early, she stayed late, and she was willing to do whatever it took to protect innocent people. Dr. Jenny had always been a bit harder on her than most, honestly.

Rita assumed it was because she knew so intimately of Rita's past, that she didn't want to come off as soft. It was the quickest way to get Rita to shut down – acknowledging and babying her because of events she could not control. She wasn't sure, though. It seemed everyone here had their own agenda at one time or another, but whatever it was – Dr. Jenny pushed her to work harder and to be more. Everyone here did, because they all knew she could.

"I know," Rita said at Jenny's comment about his walking. Of course he shouldn't have walked on a couple gunshot wounds, but how else was she supposed to make sure that he was seen by someone with more medical knowledge than her? She just complied and didn't argue, let Dr. Jenny do her work and just leaned against the wall with her arms cross. The more she watched Leon suffer, the worse she felt about this whole thing. She had never killed a werewolf before.

What would she do if she had to? She wasn't like the man who killed Chase, she could not live with herself if she knew she took away someone's child or significant other. She would have to be more careful next time, more precise in her movements. If they said non-lethal, then she would do everything she could to make it non-lethal. It was the least she could do. Most of these people didn't ask to be werewolves, that's why it was a curse. Even though the anger still brewed in her heart, she knew that her mind was right.

This had never really been about revenge, as much as helping whoever she could in a time when she felt more than useless.

"Thanks Rita, for making sure he didn't die," Rita mocked after Dr. Jenny left the room. She shook her head and turned back to Leon who seemed to become a little brighter in his face. It wasn't much but she knew the drugs would kick in eventually. "Yeah, tell me about it," she agreed with a laugh. He was right, of course. "It just gets crazy here during the full moon and it seems you weren't the only one who didn't get back in time." Rita eyed Jenny's file on her desk, but pulled her attention away for the sake of her own sanity. The last thing she needed was to read about more killings.

More loss. More pain. More, more, more.

"So, how you feeling?" Rita asked as she leaned against the desk, "Thought I lost you back there a couple times."