Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sometimes, Zec has to introduce new staff members to his angels. It isn't really easy, and not because most of the pack doesn't like to be in presence of humans, but because the actual newbies are in general too exited. Sure, he likes the idea of people being concerned by them, but each time he is the one who has to make his new co-workers a tour of the whole sanctuary, and it is pretty damn big. The inner territory is pretty damn big, but the Sanctuary itself ? Man, it is a challenge to see everywhere in a few hours.

The new member is a bouncing, exited girl, a few years older than him, that got hired to teach angels how to use sign language. Her name is Christelle or something, Zec isn't sure. He was reading when his boss asked him to go and play the guide. He isn't annoyed, not really. He just doesn't like to care for humans when nobody else is on the run. Nevertheless, he meets the girl ant the entrance of the site, climbs in one of the few minicars and drives to the Sanctuary. He wants to start with the offstage part, so he opens the backdoor and makes his way to the main corridor, waving at a healer and a janitor on the way. The place isn't unlike a hospital, very white, with a faint smell of disinfectant and a bay window on full-length, allowing to see a part of the territory, the one with the nest wall and the grove of acacias. He eventually tears his eyes from the view and turns to her.

"So here you have the stock room. Every time you want an angel to approach you have to give them a reward because it's pretty stressful for them to be this close to us. There are boxes with their names on it, you just have to pick," he says, pointing at the shelf where the twenty-seven boxes are stocked.

"Why separated rewards ?" she asks, following him like his own shadow. "Wait, are those... pieces of stale bread ? And fish heads ?"

"What can I say ? Angel tastes. So, yeah, separated rewards, since they don't all like the same thing. This is the result of many months of work to know who likes what, so believe me, it will work. Just call them and as soon as they're here, bam ! Reward. Anyway," he storms out the hallway and opens the next door. "This is the stock of blankets, hay and overalls. It's useful in case of shock, sudden sickness et cetera. If you need something for yourself, please make sure to sanitize it before putting it back. Talking about sanitizing..." he walks away and nods towards the door at the end of the corridor. "This is the entry lock. It's a small room with disinfectant gel, suits, gloves and a lot of things that are useful when you have to enter the Sanctuary itself. Make sure to disinfect every apparent patch of skin before and after your work. It helps keeping diseases outside."

"In and out, disinfect every apparent area. Got it," she is still bouncing, but at least she is listening to him very seriously.

"Cool. Now, let's head back : I want to show you what we can see from the zone open to the public."

She makes a small squeak and almost runs behind him. He chuckles : every person to ever pass by the Sanctuary has this reaction. Angels are beautiful, and seeing them evolve almost-freely under the gigantic dome was a show no one would miss. They pass the door marked "STAFF ONLY" that leads to the main circuit and walk along the guardrail. Then, she looks up. And she stops bouncing. Her jaw drops, her eyes widen, full of wonder. Zec smile grows bigger.

In front of them, the sanctuary displays his full potential in the sunset's light. The dome is shining under the purple-ish sky, bringing out the green of the grass in the middle of the arena, the grey of the concrete covering the nest wall and the deep brown of trees. He notices Jeremy, flying in lazy circles under the top of the dome, watching his pack from above. A bunch of them are at the base of the nest wall, sitting in the grass and enjoying the last sunbeams of the day. He spots Heidi on top of a tree, cleaning a cub who seems to be Karen. Evan is nowhere to be seen, probably already in his nest or fishing at the small pond, hidden among the trees. Alana is flying leisurely above of the group, a little bit lower than Jeremy. Tora and Lewis, two other cubs, are napping with Michael on the internal stone edge of the Sanctuary, leaning on the warm glass. His new coworker - what is her name again ? - awes at the sight of Alexander, freshly out of surgery and missing his left arm under the elbow, being the center of the attention. Zec helped for this intervention and he is proud to see how fast Alex recovers. The poor dude isn't very young anymore, and there is a high risk to kill him while amputing him.

"Are they crying ?" she suddenly asks, and the name flashes in his mind - Christine, her name is Christine.

"Angels' tears are pure water. Nothing is more clean on earth, and it helps them to accelerate healing. Sometimes we ask at the most trusting of them to cry for us, and we use their tears in the operating room. We have saved a few lives like that."

"Can you present them to me ?" Christine asks with puppy eyes, making him laugh.

"Sure. On the left, there are Tora and... Lewis, see, the ginger ones ? Under them there is Michael, the Alpha. He's a nice guy, very protective though. Up, there are Jeremy, Mike's mate and second Alpha, and Alana, one of our oldest recruits. Down there there are Alexander, the wounded one, Nora, Leandro and Rosalia. On top of the tree it's Heidi and Karen, who's the youngest one. Hiding in the corner there are Yuri, Phillip and Robbie. And the rest of the pack is hiding, but they are Evan, Chuck, Sean, Lisa, Fergus, Jared, Jasper, Maël, Caleb, Mathilde, Texeira, Roman and... Clarisse. Wait, did I missed someone ? No, twenty-seven, we're all good."

He smiles.

"We're all good."

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Connor is colder than ever. He doesn't even hurt anymore. It is all just cold, cold and dark and empty and lifeless. He can't feel his broken hip and broken ribs : he can't feel anything. Just cold and empty and terrified. In the end, he isn't so sure about dying. Who knows what is on the other side ? What if it's worse ? He doesn't want to find out. He doesn't want to die. He isn't ready to die yet. He only wants to live a little longer, a little better, do something good in his life, see the world and be happy. He doesn't want to die.

Something makes a loud noise upstairs. He hears yells and gunshots and heavy footsteps in the stairs and no no no no he doesn't want to die and he doesn't want to be hit again and fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck here they come and Connor shuts his eyes and pretends to be invisible but his body can't move and he is in the middle of the cell and...

The door creaks as a man enters the cell. Connor is screwing his eyes shut, he doesn't want to see what will happen to him. Not again. He can hear that another man followed the first into the cold room, but they don't touch him. They don't go near. Connor blocks his breath. If they think he is dead, they will probably leave, right ? He is pretty sure that another hit will knock him out for good. A wave of anxiety fills the air. The closest one leans towards him and puts two fingers against his throat. It is not a threatening movement, but Connor's eyes snap back open and he growls. The man backs up quickly, hands where they can be seen. This time, he realizes something is different. Those guys aren't here to hurt him. For his tired brain, it doesn't make sense. Every single human met before hurt him. Why are those different ?

He gets dizzy for a moment. His head rolls back on the ground, his eyes can't focus anymore. One second later he's hold in a solid grip, but again, not in a threatening way. It's a cradle. The second man, the one in green, approaches with a strange transparent thing and puts it on his face. Connor tries to escape the grip, but he is too weak. He can only whine and feel his stomach sink. The thing goes on his mouth and nose and soon, Connor can't see or feel anymore. Or think, for that matter. It's just all black. Deep, thick, relaxing black. It feels like a deep sleep, only that Connor doesn't had a deep sleep in a long time.

There are still noises around him, but he can't hear. There are still people fussing, but he can't see. There are still hands protecting him, but he can't feel. For the first time since forever, Connor is sleeping.