Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Connor is broken. He is completely, utterly destroyed.

There is nothing of his body and soul that can be saved. He is covered in bruises, his left arm and wing crumbled and he's (almost) bathing in his own blood. They want him submissive and silent ? Fine. Whatever. He doesn't have claws anymore to defend himself. And he couldn't fly away even if it wasn't for the chains at his feet and wrists.

Well, shit. Connor isn't one to complain and lower the head. They want him brainwashed and obedient ? Not for long. Connor swears to himself that he will get revenge. After all, the only thing still intact in him is his hatred for humans.

The door of his cell creaks and opens for a man whose face is unknown to him. Yet, he doesn't flinch or retreat. He only wraps his fingers around his broken arm a little more tighter. If the human wants a piece of his ass, he will have to come and take it. He will fight as long as he is alive. He is a creature of the sky, not some random sextoy. And he will fight to keep it that way.

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Zec loved angels. Not only because one of his distant ancestors was one of them, but because they are such interesting creatures.

As soon as he walked, his parents got him to Cheberith's sanctuary to show him these incredible feathered beings from whom he was the descendant. During his childhood, he memorized entire documentaries about them, read every book he could find and learnt as much as he could. He started to study to become a professional healer and at the age of twenty-two, as he did his first professional experience in the very same sanctuary, his innocence got shattered during his very first intervention. He suddenly learnt that the human kind wasn't always as well intentioned towards angels as he was. During his first operation on a wounded angel, he realized that the similarities between the two species were too much for people not to hurt them in every way possible.

The first angel Zec failed was called Jonathan. He did a pretty nasty fall that broke his back and never got up. There was something destructive about losing such a beautiful being, and it was like the Earth itself cried the death of the young angel.

The second angel to pass away between his hands was called Gabriel. Unfortunately, he died after twelve hours of surgery. Zec learned to harden his heart, but still felt miserable every time one of them died.

The third angel Zec couldn't save was called Elia. Despite every effort put into her recovery, the damage made by the bullet was too deep.

The four and fifth were twins called Callum and Louise. They both died before the ambulance could reach the care center.

The six was named Saba. She died from blood loss after ripping off her own wings.

The seventh, Nico, a cub, didn't even make it to the ambulance.

The eighth died from internal bleeding.

The nine, the tenth and every dead angel coming after were blurry in Zec's mind. They were now a silent crowd in the back of his head, judging him every time he failed. He wanted to save them all. He really tried. But whatever he did, he wasn't good enough. He decided that if he couldn't save them on the operating table, he would save them before. He got hired in the first ranger team ever created in the region. From this point, the sanctuary population increased every year.

The first angel he saved was a young male called Michael and his even younger mate Jeremy. The two of them were found locked in a basement, covered in bruises and cuts. Once released in the enclosure of the sanctuary, it took them a long time to learn not to fear their healers, but they finally accepted the constant presence of humans on their territory. They quickly were joined by an older female named Heidi, found chained in a backyard, two cubs called Ed and Al found half-dead in a trash can, a very young female going by the name of Noah and a few other older angels. Soon enough, Noah got into a new pack, a free one that lived near the frontier of the state. Ed and Al got transferred in an another sanctuary where they found a kind, surrogate mother and the rest of the Cheberith Pack settled for good in the sanctuary.

Heidi stayed, grown accustomed to her new place and got introduced in the breeding program, but the mate the organisation choose for her didn't seem to be interested. They sent him back to his original sanctuary, but they had the surprise to discover that Heidi was, despite what everyone thought, expecting a cub. After fifteen months, she gave birth to a tiny agitated angel that they named Evan, as a tribute to one of the vets' cousin. After a few weeks he was already able to fly, but seemed reluctant to leave his mother's side, but played with some of the young angels, like Alana and Jared respectively found in a trashcan and a kennel. The whole pack was watching after their cubs, whether they were coming from rangers expeditions or from mated couples inside of the pack itself.

Zec was proud of them and proud of himself. He was saving lives and protecting some more, he loved these angels so much... He always visited them at least once a week to be sure they were all okay. There were still so many to save and protect, but a least a few of his proteges were sound and safe in a protected area.

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Ultimately, Connor realizes that he isn't as strong as he thought.

The cell is empty again, it is just him and his sore lower back, his broken ankle and his fresh new bruises. He can't move anymore. He doesn't have the will to, anyway. He just wants to lie on the ground, move the least possible, and get his shit together. Humans are strange, he thinks, as he massages his bleeding inner thigh with his valid hand. They hurt what they find beautiful, and Connor is no exception, despite being very far from the aesthetic most angels share. He grits his teeth : his stomach aches so much. He feels so, so broken. It will be days before he can walk again. Maybe weeks. Not that his "owners" are that patient. He will probably have to deal with another visitor sooner rather than later. He knows that his case isn't isolated. There were many people from his pack who were missing before he got kidnapped : it was only a matter of time before the humans got to the nest and took the cubs too. Not that Connor is a cub anymore, but he was the one guarding the nest that day, and he got trapped with everyone else. When they didn't send him with the other two adults, and got separated from the cubs, he understood that he was probably too skinny to fight and too old to be sold as a pet. Not that he expected to be a whore, either. But with hindsight, that was probably he only other alternative to inevitable death.

He is suddenly very cold. He curls up on the floor and tilts his left wing over his broken body. He doesn't mind that much. He doesn't have any pride, any self-esteem to save and his innocence got shattered the first time they touched him. He has literally nothing to lose. It scares him. He has nothing more in his life than a cold floor and periodic visits from strangers with a weird angel kink. He closes his eyes. He doesn't want to think anymore. He just wants to die. He makes no sound, no cry, no whine. He simply squeezes his eyelids a little harder, covers his body a little better and asks Whoever was upstairs to take him away from this place.

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.

Chapter Text

Zec has been in the operating room since four hours. The last angel they rescued is in a terrible shape and there is a lot to repair. And even if they find a way to heal him properly, the poor guy will probably have some aftermath to deal with. His right side looks like he got stuck under a steamroller : the joint of his wing is completely crumbled, his arm is broken in various places, his scapula is scalloped, his hip is fractured, his kneecap has moved in a very unnatural way, his ankle is swollen and purple... The left side, fortunately, is way less damaged, only a couple of broken ribs, that fortunately don't touch any internal organ, and a rather large collection of bruises, the biggest travelling from his lower back to his crotch from above his hip.

Angels have an average height of more or less two meters, which means more flesh to hurt. Zec hates the fact that there is just so much to fix and so many ways to fuck everything up. He asks another surgeon to replace him a few minutes, gets out of the room and takes a few steps in the corridor. He exhales deeply, wiping his face from sweat. Lost in his thoughts, he buys a water bottle from the dispenser. Christine, who didn't notice him, is sitting a few meters away from him, focused on her book. His sight travels from her to the bay window. From where he is, he can see Alex carefully keeping his wounded arm up but still dashing from a spot to another, playfully chasing Lewis and Texeira around the Sanctuary. Evan is sitting next to Jared on top of a tree, both of them fidgeting with something shiny. Leandro is discreetly climbing it - to jumpscare them, Zec realizes. Leandro always has been the troublemaker type. Jeremy and Michael are cuddling on Michael's favorite spot, on the stone edge, chewing on whatever they found to snack on.

Louis, Zec's best friend and surgeon at the care center, opens the operation room's door to call him back on duty. He sighs. He isn't a believer, but he adresses a silent pray to Whatever is watching him. He really wants to save this one. He just wants to rip him from death's hands, and not only by professional pride, but because of what he saw in his eyes. When he got him out of the basement where he was kept, he first thought that they were too late and that the poor guy was already dead. But then, his eyes had opened under the mess of his hair, eyes full of terror and hatred. Zec realized that the angel himself didn't want to die. He could see how much he was clinging on life and how much he was struggling to keep both of his hearts beating.

He adjusts his mask and walks back into the overheated room.

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Dammit, after such a heavy surgery, Zec hoped that he could at least take a break. But nooooo, Evan had to fall from his tree and he has to plaster him as soon as possible because Leandro can't avoid trouble for more that a day. Geez, thanks for being a dick, 'Andro.

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Evan feels bad to force his healer to take care of him. If he could, he would just hide away under a rock and never get out again. But right now his arm aches badly, so he is thankful that someone takes care of him.

Just after his fall, as Jared is yelling at Leandro and Alana is helping him up, he hears the ring of a whistle above his head. Two healers are watching them through the dome, making sure that he comes back to the nest wall. He flies directly into his own hole, gets around his nest and waits in front of the reinforced door. He knows that every "room" in the nest wall has this kind of doors to evacuate them as soon as something happens and so using any one of them is fine, but he still prefers using his own. He got through it a few times in the past, always because of stupid falls. He waits until he can hear someone rushing behind the door to open it. Zec, the human that is caring for him since his birth, appears panting heavily and looking at him from top to bottom. Evan notices that he isn't in his usual green suit, but in a white one with a little bit of blood on the right sleeve.

"What's up, buddy ?" Zec asks, making the angel follow him in the hallway to the infirmary.

Evan can understand a lot of human language thanks to his closeness to them, even if sometimes he doesn't get subtleties. He watches in silence the healer taking off the strange hat he has and passing a hand through his brown curls. Zec makes eye contact again and Evan can't fight the urge to look down. He simply whines and holds out his left arm. The healer makes a small noise and pats the examination table.

"Watch your wings, bud, I'll be back in a moment."

And with that, he storms out without closing the door. Not that Evan will ever fly away, too scared of the unknown as he is. He sits on the table, making sure to keep his large wings away from anything that could break. A few minutes later, Zec is back with a portable scanner and gypsum strips and is looking at his arm, rambling softly under his breath. Something about surgery that didn't go as planned. Evan hopes he isn't talking about his arm, the pain is scary enough without having to deal with an operation. He gently tugs at the human's sleeve, where the blood is, a mute question in his eyes.

"Oh, that ? Don't worry. He's okay now. He made a stupid allergic reaction to pain killers, but he's all good. All good. Anyway, about your arm, Ev !" he says a little bit louder, startling the young angel who squawks. "Eh, sorry. It's broken, but it didn't move. You can be happy, I don't have to open your arm, not today at least. I'll just make you a cast so it doesn't move and it will heal nicely. Ten weeks max and I'll get it off and you'll be just peachy."

Evan nods, even if he doesn't get half of what he says, but he knows that it isn't as bad as it felt. He lowly purrs and leans his head on Zec's shoulder. The human chuckles and scratches him gently. Evan flaps happily his wings, knocking over a trash can. He apologizes, but Zec interrupts him and says with a sweet smile :

"You know that I don't get what you're saying when you talk like in enochian. Hey, I got an idea. What about you learn sign language ? You know, with Christine ?"

Evan frowns at the mention. Not that he doesn't trust Christine particularly, but he doesn't trust humans that aren't Zec in general. He doesn't have the same kind of connection with them that he has with the ranger. He can't explain why, but he trusts him almost as deeply as he trusts his mom or his Alphas. But if Zec suggested it, it can't be so bad, right ? He slowly nods, not sure if he will give it a shot, but not putting away the possibility either. Zec smiles again and ruffles the angel's hair before starting to work. Half an hour after, Evan's back in the Sanctuary. Leandro goes to him to apologize again under the watch of a very angry Jared, and his mom rushes to inspect the cast with a critical eye. Once that she makes sure that it is for medical purpose only, she relaxes a bit and cuddles him, quickly joined by Alana and Michael. Being social creatures, every member of the pack kept an eye on him - and Alex, because the old man is still recovering. That night, when Evan flies back to his nest, he finds next to it a glass of water and a small plastic cup containing meds. He supposes they're pain killers and swallows them down, before snuggling in the packed hay and pieces of fabric and falling fast asleep. That night, his dreams are full of falls, pack's hugs and blood stains. Unconsciously, he wonders if the one to whom the blood belongs will join them soon. He hopes they are okay.

Chapter Text

Connor feels good. Well, as good as he can be with half his body blocked in a strange white stone. He doesn't know where he is. He just knows that it's white, clean and warm. He only knows that he's laying on a mattress and that there is water in a tub next to him. The room is empty except for him, the bed and the water, with a dim light just above the door. There is no window, no way to know what time it is. Connor can't bring himself to care, though. His eyelids are heavy and he wants to go back to sleep.

So Connor sleeps. A lot. Like, he's pretty sure he's doing full nights every four of five hours, and so he goes for a few days. His internal clock is messed up, but he has nowhere to go, no one to see. Every now and then food is put in his cell, his water is refilled and his hay is clean. He doesn't know how anyone could enter the room without him noticing, but then he realizes that there is probably something in his food that helps him to sleep. At first, it messes him up, but then he thinks about it. No one hurt him since he got in there : whoever they are, they want him healthy. Unless he is supposed to be sold as a fighter, there is no better explanation than these guys want him to rest. He's about to believe it, about to let the small spark of hope ignite his heart. He doesn't want to be too hopeful though. What if he'll be actually sold for angel fights ? He doesn't want to believe. He forbids himself to do so. Not now, not so soon.

He starts to scratch his bandages. They're clean, for most of them, but the ones he has on his wrists and neck are itchy as fuck. And the weird stone around his shoulder is heavy, prevents him from moving his arm and forces him to sleep on his stomach, since he can't lay on any of his sides because of his sore ribs. When he sleeps, he does it for a long time and suddenly his bandages are clean again, and the minor injuries are already healed. His bruises are fading, his hip is slowly but surely getting back together and he can move his broken finger again. Then he scratches again, he sleeps, they get replaced, and again, and again, and again, and again. Two hundred forty nine naps later, Connor is finally able to stand. Most of his wounds are healed, except for his shoulder and wing. He's growing restless, pacing around in his cell. He wants to see the sun again, and the sky. He needs to see faces, even if human's. He can't stand loneliness at this point.

A few times he slams his fists on the door, hoping for any attention, but every time there is just a small ruffle on the other side, a few clicks and silence. Until the door actually opens. Connor doesn't expect it, really : he made a habit out of knocking at the door, not expecting a response anymore. It is just another thing he does to pass the time. But there he is, waking up, searching his food, but then realizing that the door is open. He stands up slowly, wondering if the door will shut once he's close enough. Maybe it's a trick, maybe they want him to get out so he doesn't know where he is and can't hide or escape easily. For the first couple of days, he doesn't dare crossing the room. He stays put, sitting on the bed; waiting for something to happen. He waits and waits and waits and waits. Nothing happens. After three days, he paces around again. On the fourth day, he stays in bed, keeping his eyes shut and trying to not think about the open door. After all, why would he take the risk to go somewhere where he isn't at his advantage while he has food, warmth and somewhere to sleep ? He won't get out. He won't.

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Zec is talking to Christine about the last settings for the sign language class when his talkie-walkie crackles, catching his attention.

"Zec, do you copy ? We need you in the video surveillance room. He's getting out. Over."

Oh. A smile finds its way across Zec's face. Finally.

"Roger that. Over and out."

Zec literally sprints across the hallway, leaving Christine unceremoniously, knocks over a trashcan in the process and opens the door fiercely. Louis, his talkie still in hand, looks at him with a shocked face.

"I didn't meant that he's getting out now, Jesus !" he says with a frown, passing his hand through his blonde hair. "He's still doing round-trips in the corridor, he's not out yet."

Zec shrugs and settles next to him, looking at the screens. It's been a little more than two weeks since they put the angel in the recovery room, and he's been pretty agitated the last days. The ranger observes his new protégé coming out of the cell, walking a few meters in the corridor towards the inside of the nest wall, then running back in his cell. Every time, he goes a little further, then runs back again. But every time he gets out to retry, until he's nearly at the reinforced door. Zec stiffens, gripping Louis' arm in the process.

"Be ready to close the door behind him."

"Every second now," his friend agrees, two fingers on the right button.

The tension in the small room grows. The angel stays still, his entire body stretched towards the door. He looks like he's calculating the risks. Zec mutters under his breath.

"Come on, boy, come on. Just a few steps and that's it."

The angel scratches his bandages, thoughtful, and looks back one last time. Then he crosses the doorstep and Louis presses the button with way much more strength than needed. Zec switches to another screen, where they can see him straightening and looking at the door, knocking a few times.

"He doesn't look stressed," Louis points out.

"Hm. Maybe he doesn't understand. Can you keep an eye on him ? I'm gonna go on the main path to see how the pack reacts."

"Sure. Oh, and Zeche ?" the other man calls, making the ranger turn around. "You did it. He's safe now. I'm proud of you, man."

"Nah, dude. We did it. We did a great job."

They share a smile and Zec is off again, running towards the exit, impatient to see how it turns out. Maybe, with any luck, the newbie will integrate well. Maybe he's okay now.

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Connor is not okay. He doesn't know how to react, to be precise. He was expecting a lot of things, humans, arena, blood smell, anything. He didn't expect a warm, spacious cave/den with a big nest in the middle. He didn't expect to find grass just in front of the den's gap. He didn't expect sun to beam so hard. And most of all, he didn't expect five angels sitting right there, waiting for him. He can't hide anymore. Dammit, why did he get outside ?

Chapter Text

Long story short, he's on another pack's territory, and a handful of them is looking at him in complete silence, sitting in front of the cave. Connor steps back, free wing twisting and cast scrapping against stone. The nearest angel - a not so young female, smaller than him, walks slowly in, hands where they could be seen.

"Hi," she says, waving at him.

Connor blinks and waves back, uncertain why they didn't attacked him yet. He's an intruder, why are they all sitting there ? Outside, the rest of them doesn't seem to want to move. They just watch them at respectable distance. She brings a hand to her chest.

"I'm Heidi. I'm the Beta of the Sanctuary's Pack."

Friendly introduction. He can play this game too.

"I'm Connor, from the Murphy's Pack. I'm a Gamma. Was."

"Welcome, Connor from the Murphy's. We will not hurt you. No one will. You're safe here," Heidi says with a warm smile. "I know it must be pretty confusing, but please, consider this place as your home, at least for now."

"How long ?" Connor croaks.

"As long as needed, newbie," says another angel entering the cave and Connor's senses scream Alpha, Alpha, Alpha.

He automatically exposes his throat, head tilted backward, in a sign of submission. The Alpha smiles and grabs his free wrist to scent him. Connor doesn't move. The Alpha is shorter than him, but his presence is overwhelming. He looks like he owns the place, in the positive way : he's the alpha and no one will fight him for the title. He's small, tan and his wings are in a very pale shade of brown. Connor shrinks when the he scents his neck too. Okay, this is a little bit too much invasion of personal space.

"You're scared," the Alpha understands, and he steps back from him. "Heidi told you already, you're safe here. No one will hurt you, as long as you don't push me or my mate too much. I'm Michael, Alpha of the Sanctuary's Pack. Welcome, Connor."

And with a smile, he's out again. Connor doesn't move, only glances at Heidi who smiles back, eyes glittering. Another angel enters the cave, and again Connor tenses and exposes his throat. This Alpha is even smaller than the first one, not even reaching his chin. He's paler, too, with yellowish wings. He looks very tired, but not the kind of tired that can be corrected by sleep. It's the kind of tired one feels when they'd been tired for too long.

"Hi. I'm Jeremy. The other Alpha. Uh," he says, looking uncomfortable. "You'll probably meet the whole pack sooner or later, but I asked them to stay away for now. Please try to rest as much as possible, and don't worry for food. We're provided with rabbits and fruits every day and there are plenty of fishes in the lake, so. Yeah."

He quickly scents him and steps away as fast as possible without running. So this one is the nervous one, he thinks. Heidi approaches and gently pushes him down the nest. Connor lets her do and lays down as well as he can. With the bandages and everything, it's less easier than use a bed, but the form of the nest feels almost normal to him. He closes his eyes, trying to find a good position to sleep. Heidi hums quietly in the distance, and Connor realizes that she will probably watch over him in his sleep. He thinks of his own mom. Falls asleep while trying to remember every face from his previous pack. His parents' feathers, Zoe's hair, Veronica's nose, Lance's chin, Kira's eyes, Hiro's hands, Brenda's smile, Cassidy's androgyny... His mind shuts down between Derek's eyebrows and Matthew's scar.

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Zec finds Christine struggling with the boxes of treats. He drops his mug on the nearest counter and catches Jared's box that threatens to fall over.

"Wow, you really want them all at your lesson, don't you," he sniggers, a hand on the column between Christine's arms.

"I just want them to be interested," she says, trying to shrugs without losing another box.

"Uh, by the way," Zec responds as he grabs half of it," You should probably let Heidi out of this one, she's taking care of the wounded one."

"Oh, okay," and as she gets out of the room, Zec behind her, she asks again : "Do you think Evan will come ? I saw him twice max since I got here."

"He's... He's really shy. I asked him to join, but he didn't seemed convinced. If someone in the pack pushes him, he will eventually, but... The only one who would do it is Jared, and it will depend on how much he liked the activity."

Chris awes sadly and walks over the Sanctuary's door. She drops her boxes, pulls on a suit and washes carefully her hands. Zec does the same and walks through the entry lock. A ruffle of wings surrounds them and seven angels come close. Jared is the first, eyeing with envy his box, closely followed by Michael, Tora, Lewis, Phillip, Alana and Sean. The two cubs are fooling around, pushing and screeching at each other, while the older ones sit close, legs crossed and eyes wide. Chris has a nervous chuckle and opens a few boxes, throwing a piece of bread of a ball of herbs here and there. Zec lets her with the small group and leaves the "human allowed zone" to examine the rest of the Sanctuary. He's one of the few that are tolerated in the territory itself, mostly because he smells like one of them. He spots Rosalia, Fergus, Jasper and Roman sleeping on top of the flat rock, sees Alex greeting him from his cave, waves at Texeira and Yuri playing on the rope bridge. Heidi is sitting at the base of the nest wall, right next to the new angel's cave, guarding it.

Zec whistles a few times, trying to draw Evan out of his hideout, but once again the young angel is nowhere to be seen. He's not by the lake, not on the edge of the Sanctuary, not in a tree either. Zec wonders if he's in his nest, but there is no way for him to check, because Evan has his nest very high in the wall, and nests are something almost sacred. As integrated to the pack as he is, he's not allowed near them. He's no angel, despite how much he blends among them, and humans are still feared by some, even if the human is Zec. There are still lines Zec can't cross, despite how hard he wants to.

____________________________________________________________________________

Evan is not very happy at the moment. His mom has her hands completely occupied by the new angel, the one who left blood on the human's sleeve. He hasn't seen him yet ; from what Evan knows, he's not in a very good shape and is sleeping most of the time. He's torn between the curiosity to meet him and the will of bury himself in his nest and never get out. Jared left for the sign language group, arguing that he would probably win a piece of bread if he went. Alana joined him too, leaving Evan alone. He would like the company of Jeremy, but he can see the Alpha taking care of Maël, Karen and Clarisse, grooming their baby wings on top of a tree. Evan feels a pang of jealousy in his chest. He's barely an adult now, only out of cubhood since three months, but nobody cares about him the way they did. His mom still takes care of him, but it's less often. His Alphas still take care of him, but like an adult, not a cub. He has no diplomatic immunity anymore, he can't make mistakes without being blamed now. And it's terrifying, knowing that everyone will reject him if he fails. He doesn't want to be alone. He doesn't want to be outcast. He just wants to be good enough. Jeremy called it "stay in the line", and that's exactly what Evan wants.

In the ends he joins Jeremy and cleans Clarisse the best he can. The cub rubs herself all over him, mixing their scents, making him feel a little better. Jeremy scents him too, feeling him nervous, and it remembers Evan when he was still very small and everyone was overprotective with him. As he wonders what changed, Maël shifts from Jere's lap to rub himself on Evan too, fighting Clarisse of the spot. Maybe Evan is on the other side of the fence now. Maybe it's his turn to be overprotective over the pack's cubs. He likes baby angels, honestly, and they like him. Maybe he's good at taking care of them.

Chapter Text

Zec is cranky when it's early in the morning. Coffee and angels make it easier, of course, but Monday mornings are hard. Fortunately he comes at work to a good sight : Connor is sitting outside of the nest wall in the warm air of late August, his eyes closed in delight while having a sunbath. Zec learned the new angel's name thanks to Evan's and Heidi's small talk one afternoon while sitting next to the ranger, who heard the word "Connor" coming out a few times. Even if Zec doesn't talk enochian, it wasn't a word he had heard before between these two. He smiles and whistles softly to catch the angel's attention. The angel opens an eye, growls a warning to the human above him and goes back to his sunbeam. At least he didn't hide this time, Zec thinks, and it looks like progress. It's been a week since Connor joined the pack and he looks more relaxed now. He's still jumpy when anyone else than Heidi comes too close to him and he rarely quits his cave, but Michael and Jeremy don't seem to think of him as a threat to the pack and Heidi spends most of her time with him, making sure that he's fine. That's what Betas are for, after all. Zec knows his own angel ancestor was a Beta, and that's probably why he cares so much. He's the human Beta of the pack. He giggles at the thought.

He walks in the staff area, waving at two rangers chatting next to the coffee machine, and enters the surveillance room as usual. Most of the angels are sleeping in their respective nest, except some of them who slept with someone else, like Rosa who clearly decided to keep an eye on Alex's wound or Caleb and Mathilde having a puppy pile with Fergus and Lisa. Zec wonders if they should invest in bigger nests instead of individual ones. It would allow more proximity for who wants some. He writes down the idea in his notebook and goes back to watch the screens. Evan is pacing around in his own cave, flapping his wings intensively without actually leaving the ground. The young angel seems even more nervous than usual, and the ranger wonders if Jared somehow made him promise to come to the sign language class. It would be good for him, though. Christine was very proud of her five first lessons, telling everyone how Alana was probably the most painstaking student she ever met, and how Lewis and Tora were such fast learners. Jared seemed to be at most of the meetings, listening with one ear while chewing on his hard bread.

Heidi is bustling in Connor's cave, wings rattling while she cleans the nest from fallen feathers. From the corner of the eye he catches Connor standing up and making a beeline to the "bathroom" area. A few angels are starting to wake up, stretching their limbs in every direction possible. Time to go and feed the beasts, Zec notices, looking down at his watch. He catches Louis on his way to the food reserve and while the surgeon chooses five fat bunnies from the hutch and a bunch of pigeons from the pigeonhole, the healer chops a dozen of apples and mangoes, putting them in a large plastic tray with thawed veggies. As they step in the "human authorized area" of the Sanctuary, Connor has disappeared again in his nest and the rest of the pack is up, waiting for their meal. Jeremy planes smoothly to to them, making grabby hands for the tray, and Zec gives him a big piece of mango. A bunch of the adults are eyeing the preys, waiting for the rangers to open the box and free the walking meatsacks. Evan is standing at the side of the group, waiting for his turn. Jared, who somehow found a way to snatch two pieces of cucumber instead of one, hands one over him. The older one flushes and mumbles what sounds like a thanks and gnaws on his food. The rabbits and pigeons are finally released and most of the adults dash off after them in a big wings rustle, Michael heading.

"Hey, where's Heidi ?" Louis asks at some point, trying to keep the almost empty plastic tray away from Jared and Texeira.

At the mention of his mother, Evan looks up from his piece of corncob and tilts his head towards the nest wall.

"She was on Connor duty this morning," Zec answers. "Maybe she's sleeping ?"

"Wait, that means that neither her or Connor ate today."

Jared recedes from Louis and looks over his shoulder to Evan and Alana, sitting on the ground with their half-eaten food. They seem to silently speak between them before Alana steps up, wiggling his wings to get rid of the grass stuck between her feathers. She approaches Louis and Jared, signs something and adds, pointing at herself and the boys then at the rangers :

"Connor. Heidi."

"Sounds fair to me," Louis says with a shrug and gives her half of what's left. "Zeche, you got Angel Mom ?"

"On it."

Evan flies to his cave and comes back almost instantly with two big fishes, giving one to Zec.

"Thanks buddy. I'll make sure your mom eats it," he smiles and ruffles the angel's hair.

The trio runs away, Jared's mouth full with what suspiciously looks like Evan's corn, while the two humans gather their stuff and walk back to the food reserve. Zec crosses the hallway and finds himself behind the nest wall, in the corridor of the fifth floor. He knocks at Heidi's reinforced door, waiting for a reaction. He hears a shuffle and the top of Heidi's head pokes curiously from the window of the door. Zec opens and gives her the food. She grins and Zec is shocked, as always, at the sight of the shark-ish row of teeth. He often forgets that angels are predators built for hunt because of how helpless they look in human's hands. Heidi quietly chews on the fish, looking tired but satisfied. Zec's heart inflates with pride. That's it. He loves them. He loves them so much.

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There are a lot of terms to qualify Connor, but friendly isn't one of them. Neither is morning bird. Connor is more like a cat, concerning his sleep schedule. So when three barely adults angels of the pack - his new pack, he remembers, poke their head through the hole in the nest wall to look awkwardly at him, he's not the most patient person in the world. First thing he does is growling at them. Loudly. The taller one shrieks and disappears almost immediately, while the female shrinks a little bit in surprise and, oddly enough, the smallest angel narrows his eyes and puffs his feathers, stepping in, his hands on his hips.

"Calm down newbie, we're here for the food !"

"I don't have any food, get out !" Connor grumbles, sinking in his nest ans leering.

The other one stares at him, his lips pressed in a fine line.

"Wow, this is actually unbelievable. No, you idiot, you don't get it : we have the food because we're here to give it to you."

Connor frowns, wondering why these three (two, actually, since the third one is still out of sight) are bringing him food. He doesn't even know them - okay, that's a lie, he knows their faces from long hours of observing the pack from the entrance of his cave, and he saw these three flying around a lot. The small one is always sneaking food from everywhere and bitching about everything, and Connor often sees him cuddling with the Alphas. He sniffs discreetly and yes, this one smells like an Alpha too, his scent strong but not powerful enough to make him scream Alpha Alpha Alpha. The female one, darker and more serious looking, smells good, too. Not as strong as her friend's or as calming as Heidi's though : it's more sweet, as if she just came out of cubhood. A Gamma, Connor thinks, just like him. The last one, the tip of his wing pointing through the entrance, is taller than the other two, but still shorter than Connor himself - again, not many angels are taller than him in this pack, except maybe for Alex and Nora. He knows nothing about this one, except that he reeks of stress and angst, even stronger than Jeremy. The smell of fear stings and makes him blow through his nose stronger than usual, drawing the attention to him again. The small one huffs and raises him voice, looking at the other two behind the wall.

"Hey, acorn, could you stop that ? It's really annoying. Also, you're the one with the food, man, hurry up."

"Acorn ?" Connor snorts, tilting his head up from the nest.

"Yeah, 'cause he fell from a tree the other day," the female smiles, pushing gently the third one between his wings and into the cave.

"Just like an acorn," concludes the small one, clearly proud of his non-existent skill for finding nicknames.

The blond one stumbles, glaring at his own feet like they're trying to murder him, and gives him a big fish and a handful of fruits. Not once he looks up, not even when Connor let down the irritated mask and thanks them because damn, was he hungry. He shoves a piece of whatever-this-fruit-is-called in his mouth and gulps before getting his jaw out of its hinges and crushes half of the fish before anyone can take it back. He hears them chuckling next to him and looks up, ready to throw hands at anyone who would take his breakfast away.

"Slow down, Connor, this is all yours. We already ate, you know ?" she says, smiling wide while playing with her hair.

Connor tries to answer that no, he doesn't know since he only gets out of his nest in very early morning and late at night, but his mouth is still full of fish and he has trouble to articulate. Fortunately, she seems to understands what he's trying to do and nods, humming under her breath and already chattering about something else. The small one is now sitting in the darkest corner of the cave, close to the reinforced door, and is grooming silently the fluff of his left wing. The tall one is sitting at the opposite of his friend, right by the entrance. He seems nervous and looks anywhere but in Connor's direction, his ears red and his hands nervously clinging on his overall. Connor notices that he has a strange white stone too, wrapped around his arm the same way it's wrapped around his own shoulder and wing. Waves of sour scent cross the cave to the nest and he wrinkles his nose, disgusted by the mixed sensations rolling on his tongue and covering the taste of his food. He notices fear and anxiety for the most part, but the bottom layer is made of combined built-up anger, panic and jealousy. This one... This one is not happy to be here, or is not happy to have him here. Either way it's not to Connor taste, so as soon as he's done eating he lays back down in the soft fabric of his nest and turns his back to them, closing his eyes. They seem to take the hint and stand up to exit, but at the last moment Connor rolls on his side to look at them :

"I guess you lot have names ?"

"I'm the insanely cool Jared, at your service my good lord," he adds bowing down and flapping his wings when happily a laugh escapes Connor's lips.

"I'm Alana, and yes, we should probably have started by that. But, y'know, conventions," she says, shrugging exaggeratedly.

"I-I'm Evan," simply says the third, looking at the exit with needy eyes.

Connor grumbles a goodbye as they walk away and rolls back in a comfier position, covering his legs with his valid wing. Alana is really nice, even if he drowns a little bit under the amount of small talk she's able to debit in such a short time. Jared is okay, he guesses, but kind of an asshole on the edges, making fun of everyone. And Evan... Yeah, better stay away from Evan. The kid is a weirdo, and Connor doesn't know how to deal with angels like that. Hell, he doesn't even know how to deal with normal angels, so Evan ? Nuh-uh, not today, Satan.

Chapter Text

Perfect, that was just bloody perfect. Evan's eyes are tearing up from his own scent, from how invasive it is. He needs to clean himself now or else he'll stink the entire territory. He makes a beeline to the lake and quickly removes his overall to dive in the cold water. Angels are creatures of the sky, but Evan has always been pretty good as swimming. His feathers get soaked and make him slow down on his way to the bottom of the lake, but he doesn't care. He wants to get rid of the scent, rid of the fear, he thinks as he goes deeper and deeper among the fishes, his wings uselessly floating behind him. Just where you belong to.

He couldn't even look the new angel in the eyes. Unable to make any eye contact at all really, even with Jared. He was just too tense and too stuck in his own mind. Stupid, stupid Evan. That's probably why Heidi spends all her time with Connor instead of you. He is such a disappointment to himself. He's trying, he's trying so hard all the time to be good enough, but that's never enough. He is never enough. He sobs, and the water rushing in his mouth forces him to go back to reality. His lungs are on fire and his vision blurry, he needs to get out. How long has he been underwater ? Too long, his lungs and heart scream. He makes his way back to the surface, his cheeks heating and chest clutching, but not fast enough. He realizes too late that he needs air and he needs it now. But his movements are sluggish and the surface is still so far away and God oh God he's not gonna make it why did he dived so deeply and his lungs are burning and fuck fuck fuck he needs to get out of here and...

And suddenly there is something snaring his arm, dragging him out of the water's compression. He coughs, tries to empty his throat from everything that shouldn't be up there. He shivers when a pair of hands find their way across his body, making sure that he isn't hurt. He blinks a few times as his ears are released from the liquid and finally he can hear again.

"What the fuck, Evan ? What the fuck ?! Where you trying to drown for good ? Why the fuck did you get so deep ?! And is that scent coming from you ? God you stink !"

Jeremy, it's Jeremy who's holding him, panic and anger flashing in his eyes as he keeps on looking for eventual wounds. Evan whimpers and squeezes his head between his shoulders. He did it again, didn't he ?

"I didn't mean t-to... I didn't realize I was... I-I'm sorry."

Jeremy frowns and blocks Evan's face between his hands as the soaked angel is trying to escape his look. He flaps his insanely large wings and use them to wrap the two of them in a feathered cocoon.

"Look- Evan, look at me. Evan," he growls with his Alpha voice, forcing his packmate to finally look at him in the eyes. "What's wrong with you, lately ? You're all jumpy, you snap at everyone and you mumble a lot much more than usual. What's wrong ? You okay ?"

Evan gulps and shifts, not very at ease so close to his Alpha. He likes Jeremy, a lot : he's like the big brother he never asked for but is lucky to have. But sometimes, when he's taking his role of leader at heart, he shows himself pushy and impatient. That's why it's a blessing that Michael is his mate : they balance each other so well about everything. God, Evan wishes it was Mike who fished him out instead of Jere. But the Alpha is still holding him tight, slowly but surely warming and drying him while waiting for an answer. Evan's throat is sore, and this time it's not because of the water.

"N-No. I'm not."

Jeremy's angry face decomposes, settling for a worried look instead. Evan hates it, he doesn't want to be the reason why people are worried. If they could forget him and leave him alone, but no, they always have to care about him and Evan isn't sure how he feels about it. The Alpha dries his face with a gentle hand.

"What's wrong ? What's happening ?"

Evan doesn't know how to tell him that they all care way too much and they shouldn't, but at the same time they don't while he feels like they should. He doesn't know how to say how hollow he feels every time that Jared and Alana leave him alone in order to go to Christine's class. He doesn't know how to explain why he is so jealous of Connor for monopolizing his mother's attention. Instead, he settles for this.

"I'm lonely."

Jeremy awes and tightens his wings around them. Evan feels save in this fluffy bubble, even if his personal space is kind of squished right now.

"I just want people to care about me but at the same time I don't, and I... I just want everything to be like before."

"Before what ?" Jeremy asks while gently combing Evan's fluff with his long claws.

"I don't know. Before. When everything was easy and clear in my mind, and now I'm just alone all the time and I hate it, I just want it to stop, I just want people to care about me because if they don't nobody does and I can't stand being so cold and alone and stressed all the time but at the same time I don't want them to because why would anyone watch out for me I mean it's not like I deserve it right I'm barely helpful to the pack and what if I'm not good enough and everyone just decide that I don't belong there I can't leave and I don't know half of what an angel is supposed to do once adult why is everything so confusing what am I supposed to do Jeremy ?"

"Ev, you're doing it again."

"Sorry I'm sorry everything is so difficult and complex I'm so sorry I'm not good enough," he says, clawing at his scalp in panic, his eyes glittering with repressed tears and his breath catching speed.

"Evan, Evan. It's okay," Jeremy murmurs, removing the other's hands from his head. "Everything is okay, you're fine, you'll be fine, just take deep breathes and look at me. Evan, breathe. It's okay I swear, nobody's gonna kick you out of the pack. There, there. Deep breathes, good, like that. Now listen to me : what you're feeling, it's normal. It sucks, but it's normal. It's called growing up. You're not a cub anymore and you're simply realizing that you place in the pack has changed. Again, it sucks, but it's normal."

"R-Really ?" Evan asks, his voice tiny and strangled.

"Really. It's always hard to cross the line between Omega and the rest of the pack, because then packmates care less since the risks of you dying are reduced. There is like, a cub out of three who dies before reaching adulthood, did you know that ?"

"I was a-aware that the survival rates were pretty low b-but..."

"And since you made it so far, everyone is just basically thinking that you're tough enough to go and live by yourself. All of us are. But that being said, an angel can't actually survive on their own, and that's why packs exist."

"I know, but does it have to do with an-"

"Let me finish."

"Sorry," he mumbles.

"As I was saying," Jeremy says, his voice soothing, "We're social creatures. Of course, you can live by yourself, cut from any interaction, but you will probably not go so well after a few days or weeks. We're built to live in group and share everything. Haven't you noticed that we groom each other all the time, and how pleasant it is to sleep with a packmate ?" he asks with half a smile, earning a nod from Evan. "You keep thinking like a cub, that's why you're feeling lonely. You have to understand that you can't stay away from your pack, for your own sake but for ours too. You're our packmate : when you suffer, we suffer with you."

There is a second of silence during which Evan integrates every bit of information. Then Jeremy's smiling again, flashing his sharp teeth at him :

"So no more drowning, okay ? Or falling from trees, for that matter."

"H-Hey, this one was an accident !"

"I know Ev, I'm just messing with you," Jer chuckles and gets up, taking away the warmth Evan was desperately trying to keep, and leaving him with a last ruffle at his hair. "Remember : one step at the time."

He shivers and fetches his overall, lying a few meters away from him. Jeremy made a miracle by drying him entirely in such a short time, and the small angel is grateful for that. Maybe he could go and find his friends. Alana was still technically a cub so it wouldn't be too hard to cuddle with her. Jared was adult, too, and he would probably nap with them, even if it implies him joking around about how he doesn't need Evan in particular. Yeah, well Evan needs him.

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The first thing Zec sees during his first afternoon shift is a puppy pile on the grass patch in the middle of the Sanctuary. He puts down the load of dirty laundry he was carrying at the laudromat and leans on the guardrail to looks more carefully.

To be perfectly exact, it's a cub pile, solely composed by young angels. Evan is curled up between Alana and Jared, who has his wings covering Tora, who's cuddling Lewis, whose head is resting on Karen's tummy, who's tightly hugging Chuck, who's used as a living blanket by Sean, who's grooming lazily Clarisse's wings, who's braiding Alana's hair. They're a compact mass of warm flesh and ruffled feathers of all the colors, happy sighs and purings. Louis, Christine and a ranger in full suit joins him, cooing at the sight.

"Urgh," Louis gurgles strangely as he dramatically leans on the fence, "I love them so muuuuuch, I wish I could protect them all. I swear, if I could I would fight the entire world for them."

"You know," says the third ranger, who should be Chandler, if the blond curl of hair escaping the hoodie is a hint, "I always wondered why they don't have rights, legally."

Louis tears his eyes away from the napping angels and looks at her - yup, it's definitely Heather behind the green mask, Zec can tell just by the way she stands, towering above Christine.

"Damn, you're right..." the blond man mutters, and adds : "Like non-human person's rights ? That thing they give to apes who can sign ?"

"Half of our angels know how to sign, by now," Christine points out, swinging from one foot to another, a finger raised.

"Then why isn't there a law to protect them yet ?" Heather growls with her hand on her hip. "We all know that they're way more intelligent than apes."

"Zeche, you studied the subject, didn't you ? Can't we do something ?" Louis asks, glancing up at his best friend, while still spread on the metal bar.

"Well, to be honest, I never really had the opportunity to bring up the topic... But Eden knows."

"Who's Eden ?" Christine frowns at the unknown name.

"My fiancée. She's a lawyer," he replies, blushing a bit. "She's good in History, too, and she's trying to pass a law to prohibit angel's capture and trafic, based on what we know of alliances between our kinds these last centuries. Because, y'know, until maybe ninety years ago, people didn't care that much about angels. They were just another species on Earth, period. But after the war, there were grey areas between our respective territories that were blurry and we kinda mixed up, ending with people like my grandfather, or Eden's mother."

Louis and Christine nod, thoughtfully, while Heather unties her mask with a huff and says :

"Right, right, that's nice. But what do we do then ? Because as far as I know hybrids don't have rights either, no offense to your fiancée's mother."

"None taken," he smiles, "But you're right. Most of the time they were considered as their human parent's property, so no. We're considered humans when we have more than seventy-five percent or "human genes", which is stupid because basically angels have ninety-nine percent of their DNA in common with us, but..."

"You're rambling," Christine groans. "Back to the law, isn't there something we can do to make angels at least recognized as... Lou, how was it ?"

"Non-human person," Louis says, straightening up on his perch.

"From what I know, no. Not yet. We still can do something, though, I'm working on it for quite a long time and I want to be sure it will work before I spill the beans..."

"Ezechiel," Heather deadpans, looking right into his soul. "Don't you dare cliffhanger me, young man, or I swear I'll find a way to break every coffee machine on the site."

"Okay, okay, geez, no need to be extreme !" Zec almost shouts, the pit of his stomach dropping. "I don't know if we can guarantee them a non-human person status, but at least we can try to lobby our government and force it to add angels to the IUCN Red List."

They look at him for a second like he suddently had grown a second head, then glance at each other. Christine coughs.

"That's an impossible mission, you know that, right ? Because they closed the list three years ago, due to too many species dying at once. Us humans can't keep track of everything we kill."

"Then I'll do my impossible," Zec shrugs, his attention back to the purring pile of limbs catching the sun of late afternoon. "I just can't do nothing. And I won't be here forever to protect them."

"You know I'll help," Louis puts his hand on his friend's shoulder. "If you say we can do it, I believe you. You never failed them and I don't think you'll start today."

"You guys are crazy," Heather shakes her head, but she has a ghost of a smile across her lips. "I'm in."

"I love angels," Christine simply adds. "What kind of person would I be if I didn't stand for what I believe in ?"

They smile at each other, all leaning on the handrail.

____________________________________________________________________________

Evan is still impressed that somehow he managed to create such a big puppy pile. He's never the one who initiates one, usually, and when it happens he always ends at the edge of it, where only one or two people can touch him. But this time, he was in the middle. And it felt so good. Like he mattered, for real. Not just because he was the Beta's son. It was nice.

Chapter Text

It's late at night, and Connor has cramps. After so many days without flying, it's no wonder that his muscles are twitching and jumping uncontrollably under his skin. He doesn't flinch whenever there is someone around, but the moment he's alone he rolls on the ground, trying to flatten both of his wings under his weight. His entire back is agitated by spasms, his free shoulder rolling desperately to get rid of it. He rolls back and forth, as far as the cast allows him to, stands up, stretches, massages his sore muscles, rolls on the ground again. It's an endless cycle he can't quit, and it's growing old pretty fast. He is pissed. He can't control his own body and it's very uncomfortable. It begins to get worst when his wing itches where he can't reach, and even if he could, he can't scratch.

He's furiously flapping his left wing to get rid of the cramps when he feels a presence behind him. He glares at whoever is witnessing this embarrassing moment of weakness, half-hoping for it being Heidi. But no, it's the weird kid, whatever his name is, that's looking at him with a eyes wide open.

"What ?" Connor barks, really not in the mood to undergo another olfactory attack.
"I'm s-searching for my mom but, uh, she -she doesn't seem to be here so I'll probably go away and. Uh."

"Yeah, you do that and you freaking leave me alone," Connor rolls his eyes in frustration, both of his wings shuddering by their own will.

The other one starts picking at his cast but doesn't leave, as he expected him to do. Instead, he takes an unsteady step into the cave and asks :

"A-are you having cramps ?"

"No shit, what gave it away ?" he answers with a sharp laugh.

The small anger flinches but doesn't retreat and chooses instead to pick harder at his brownish, dirty cast, his eyes flying all around the place like he's trying to figure out where he is.

"Ma-ay I ?" he finally mumbles, vaguely moving a hand towards him.

Connor stills and glares at him again from above his shoulder, evaluating him. It's not that he hates the kid, he doesn't even really know him that well, but he's just so anxious and creepy all the time that it's freaking Connor out. But then, he realizes that he's probably spooking the other angel as well : after all, he isn't the most friendly angel out there. He shrugs - movement that he regrets doing instantly as his back is crossed by a new wave of spams. He chokes back a cry and mumbles "whatever", drawing his casteplastered arm closer to his abdomen as he fully turns his back at Evan.

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How did Evan get into this situation, he has no idea. He was only searching for his mom. But the fact is that he's sitting in Connor's room, behind him, trying to unravel his contracted (and probably very hurtful, from the look of it) back and wings' muscles. At first, the tall angel is very stiff under his fingers, and it's not easy for either of them to calm the spasms. He growls every time a sensitive spot is brushed, scaring the hell out of Evan, but really doesn't do anything but being a little bit vocal about it. After a few minutes, though, Evan is able to make his way between the cast and the warm skin and presses a node at the base of his neck, just at the intersection with his shoulder, making the other one hissing in pain and then going all limp under his hands.

"Wow, okay, that was..." he hears Connor swallowing hard, "How did you know where to do that ?"

"P-Projection, for the biggest part," Evan stutters. "I try to find where it hurts when I, hum, when I'm stressed."

"All the time then," and the poor kid needs a few seconds to registrer that it's a joke.

"Ahah, y-yeah, right... I'm kind o-of the stressed, odd kid of the pack. But y-you, well, you probably noticed."

Connor silently nods, his valid hand brushing unconsciously his cast. After that, none of them opens the mouth again, Evan focusing on the nerves, Connor trying to be still and quiet. After what seems like hours, the tall angel finally flaps his wing a few times, making the small one slide back - at respectable personal space.

As Connor stretches his arm above his head, Evan's sight is caught by the muscles rolling under the pale skin of his shoulder. Now that he thinks of it, he never really looked at Connor since he first "joined" the pack, and suddenly fully takes in the view of this new angel. First thing first, Connor is tall, like freaking tall : even Alex, who's the tallest angel Evan knows, is only taller than him from a few fingers. He's very skinny, too, and the young angel wonders if he eats properly, but then remembers that his own mom is taking care of him so it's kind of part of the whole. His hair are quite longer, too, and dark : brown or black, Evan really couldn't say. His overall, very similar to Evan's, is not attached on his shoulders because of the gigantic cast, and lies low around his hips. But then his eyes wander higher, at his hands, and he almost shrieks in horror : at the end of rather long digits, there is nothing.

"What ?" Connor snaps again, shrinking instinctively on himself.

"Y-your claws ! You d-don't have claws !" Evan replies immediately, but cringes at how high-pitched is own voice sounds.

Connor sits there, staring at him, then at his hands like he can't process what Evan just said. His eyes travels again between them, and Evan can't help but notice a dot of dark in his right eye, while the rest of his irises are clear.

"Yeah, and ?" the other angel asks, genuinely confused. "It's not like I had the time to use them anyway."

"But how do you hunt ? O-or cut or scratch or..?"

Connor shrugs, folding his hands under his arms, out of view, and growls lowly, defensive.

"I don't. What do you want me to say ? I don't have claws anymore. Get over it."

"Wait wait wait wait, wha-what do you mean by anymore ?" Evan asks again, genuinely confused.

"I'm not born without claws, idiot, they teared them off !" he hisses, his fluff puffing around him to make him look more impressive. "It's the first thing they did to me when they got their hands on me, that and breaking my fucking wing !"

He shouts the final word. There is venom in his words, and even if Evan knows it's not really against him, he can't help but shut his eyes, waiting for the blow. There is a rustle and then the silence. After a few seconds, as nothing happens, Evan carefully looks around him. Connor is nested in the darkest corner of the cave, grinding his teeth and looking at him over his knees.

"Are you afraid of me, Evan ?" he asks, his voice empty of any emotion. "Well, you should," he adds when Evan isn't answering. "I don't know what you're trying to do, but I see you. I see what you're trying to do, befriending everyone. It won't work with me, so thanks for the help, but no thanks/ You better stay away from now if you want to keep all your feathers."

A shiver goes down Evan's back as he quits the cave without a word and flies directly into his own nest. It's not a shiver of fear, though : it's excitement. Finally, something is happening. Finally, there is someone as awkward as he is. Evan sheepishly grins in the fabric of his nest. This is the first time he wants so badly to disobey to someone.

___________________________________________________________________________

Maybe he has been a little bit too harsh with him. Connor can't bring himself to care, however. He doesn't want to care. There is something about Evan, something that rubs Connor's feathers the wrong way. It's a weird twist in his guts that forces him to keep the small angel away from him, something that screams you can't break him too, leave him alone. It's the way that Evan stands awkwardly, flapping nervously his wings every now and then, something that makes Connor want to stay away, because if he comes closer he might corrupt him, destroy him. He hates it. He fucking hates it.

Chapter Text

For some reason, Alana didn't left Evan's side since the puppy pile, sometimes commenting that he smells "funny" to her. He thinks that he smells like his usual, anxious self, but Alana simply brushes the comment off and nuzzles him harder. He doesn't really know if she somehow overheard what was told with Jeremy, but he doesn't really care either. Jared smirks at the sigh of their pup friend glued to the taller angel but often joins them, laying next to Evan with his overall covered legs propped on Al's lap. Not that Evan's gonna complain. In fact, he very much likes it. Having attention without having to ask for it. Except that it's not exactly what Evan needs.

He has no idea of what he really needs. To be honest, he doesn't even know why this isn't what he needs, but deep inside there is something that feels... Wrong. Hollow. Desperately waiting for something that isn't here. And he has no idea how to deal with this feeling. His Alpha told him that it was normal, and that it sucked, but every day Evan realizes a little bit more how much it actually sucks.

Evan makes an habit out of visiting Connor to help him with his wings. Every two days or so, he lands right at the entrance and pokes his head inside, waiting for the wounded angel to let him in. The first times are hard because Connor is tense, not liking the idea of anyone touching and stretching his wings. But after some time, Evan makes his way past his walls and the contact is easier. Evan is still an anxious mess, stuttering every time he has to elaborate a more-than-two-words-sentence, but his hands steady between the long, pale feathers. Connor doesn't talk a lot, mostly grunts whenever Evan touches a sensible spot, but happens to engage the dialog if he's bored enough. Which is more and more often. And everything feels right again.

Then, one night, he wakes up soaked in sweat, teeth drawing blood from his bottom lip and claws clenching on the fabric of his nest. Despite how hot he feels, his entire body is shaking of a cold coming from the inside of his guts, his scent invades every bit of his cave and makes his eyes watering and his heartbeat is roaring at his ears. Everything is too much, too intense, too bright, too overwhelming. His throat aches, his skin itches like hell and every muscle in his body is sore as if he flew miles and miles. He crawls into a ball at the center of his nest and chokes back tears that threaten to overflow. It doesn't really hurt, not in a physical way, but it's unbearable.

A scream escapes from him as a new wave of heat rolls over him and he immediately puts his hands on his mouth to muffle any sound, startled by his very unangelic shriek. His teeth sink further into the raw flesh of his lip as he whines pitifully, covering his shaking body with his wings as a ridiculously fluffy shield.

There is shuffle of feathers in front of his cave and he raises his watery eyes to meet Alana's. She stands here, immobile, startled by the invasive scent rolling off him and down the nest wall.

"Ev, what..? Do you need help ?"

"Y-Yeah, can y-you get my m-m-mom ? I can't- I can't... It's too... P-Please go g-get her," he gulps, and it feels like he just swallowed a handful of sand.

"Okay, don't move, I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere, okay ?" Alana yelps and moonwalks to the exit, her hands up as if he's about to jump and attack her.

He nods weakly and she flies away. And Evan is alone again, alone with this body that is failing him. He hates it, he hates it so much.

____________________________________________________________________________

It's been a while since Zec last checked on Connor's wounds, and he wonders how the hell he is supposed to make his check-up. Most of his bandages have to be changed and the splint on his fingers removed. The ranger doesn't what to use sedative, even less shoot him an anesthetic dart in the middle of the the Sanctuary : it's supposed to be a safe place where nothing can hurt them. So he will probably have to find a way to make him come out by himself in the infirmary. Zec wonders how he will do this miracle.

Evan needs a cleaning, too. Zec has no idea of what happened, but his cast looks moist and dirty, as if he dipped it into water. He makes a mental note to tell him not to dip his cast into water next time. Sometimes, Zec feels like Evan's dad. It's weird.

He needs to know what Connor's special food is : after two weeks it's more than time to find a way to reward him. Which means he has to go to the nearest supermarket and find someone to take his night shift for, because the town is two hours away from the complex. It would also be the perfect occasion to look for new big nests. Well, at least he'll had something to make up for having Connor to visit the med bay.

He looks at the calendar and notices that the next day is the day they open the site's doors to the public and that he will probably have to guide a few groups himself through the Sanctuary. He loves kids, but at the moment showing them around only feels like another chore to do.

Zec realizes that he probably needs to make a list for everything he needs to do. He walks in the main room to borrow a pen and a piece of paper and bumps into Louis, walking out with a gigantic pile of clean suits for the entry lock of the Sanctuary. He saves half of the pile from falling, earning a few claps from a bunch of other rangers eating in the back of the room.

"Hey there Zeche, you in a rush ?" the blond man asks, securing his stack in his arms.

"Kinda, I have like a ton of things to do today and no idea how I'm supposed to do half of them," he groans, smiling half-heartedly.

"Need a hand ?"

"You would save my life. I'm supposed to watch the video surveillance room this evening, but I want to make a trip downtown before night, so..."

"Say no more, dear friend of mine !" Louis grins, hopping down the corridor. "I'll call you if anything happens !"

As Zec has a small fond huff, Claire, one of his coworkers, laughs behind him and shouts, with a joking tone :

"Marry him already or I will !"

Zec blows playfully a raspberry at her, grabs pen and paper and asks around :

"Do we need anything else than fruits, bandages and straw ?"

The few people in the room add some things to the list and he finally walks out, reaching for the key rack on his way out.

It's nine at night, he's searching for unsalted crackers in an almost empty supermarket and a kid is crying in the aisle next to his when his phone rings, the soundtrack of Star Wars starting to play. It's the Sanctuary's number, and he wonders for a second what they forgot to ask him to buy before accepting the call.

"Hey, wassup ?" he asks while reading the ingredients of some random cereals, wondering if Nora and Rosalia would eat those.

"Yo, it's me," says Louis' voice on the other end of the line. "I wanted to keep you informed that Evan just started his first heat, and it looks pretty nasty. Must be an empty heat."

Zec almost drops the box in surprise.

"Waiwhat ?! But it wasn't due before two months at least !"

"I dunno man, something probably triggered it earlier," and he can almost hear his friend shrug in confusion. "Anyway, Alana noticed it and is actually talking to Heidi. So, everything's almost under control."

"Still, that's bad, it's way too soon," Zec mumbles in annoyance. "Is any other angel up ?"

"Well, Chuck and Jasper are sharing a bird by the lake and Robbie and Yuri are wandering around the cat tree. Else, they're all in their nest or in someone else's nest. Wait, no, there are Alana and Heidi. They're coming back to Evan. Looks like Angel Mom has a pouch of water, too. Do you want me to do something ?"

"Nah, I think Heidi got it. I'm on my way back now," he adds, moving toward the check-in.

"If anything happens call me."

"Sure thing bro. Stay safe on the road."

With that, Louis is off again and Zec is almost rushing to the truck.

____________________________________________________________________________

Connor still sleeps a lot, but he finds a new rhythm that allows him to take a nap every four or five hours without being actually completely exhausted. Most of the time, when he wakes up, there is Heidi sitting in his cave, weaving grass or passing her fingers in his long hair. Sometimes, mostly late at night, it's one of the Alphas that are looking after him, Michael in general. He's still kind of intimidating for Connor to be that close to an Alpha that isn't his father, but after three full weeks of small discussions he knows that Michael is cool and has no interest in hurting him. Not that he didn't know it before, but now he fully realizes that no one here, not even the humans, want to hurt him. Back to Michael, Connor tolerates his presence better than anyone else's - except Heidi, but Heidi is an angel among the angels ; he actually listens when Connor answers him once in a while. That one night is no exception as the brown Alpha is sitting next to the entrance, chewing on what looks like catnip, but Connor is no expert in plants. The sun has been down for hours and he's sleepy, listening with one ear to him talking about a puppy pile or something.

"Hey, I was wondering," he mumbles after a very long silence, half-buried between his free wing and the edge of the nest.

Michael looks up from his treat and hums with an inquisitive tone.

"With all the cubs in there, how comes none of them is yours ?"

"How could you tell ?" Michael smiles in the dim light, his eyes shining. "You sleep all day and you never get out to meet everyone."

"Not true," the taller angel grumbles, and rolls on his stomach to stretch his wing. "And I still can pick scents from here. Except for Jeremy and Jared, no one smells like you."

To be perfectly honest, Connor can't smell much, since Evan always stains everything with his overwhelming scent. Not that it really displeases Connor. The Alpha is still smiling, but it looks a little bit forced and he wonders if he didn't overstepped the boundaries.

"When you're Alpha, you consider your entire pack as your cubs."

"That's not what I meant."

"Well, we basically adopted Jared when he first came at the Sanctuary and needed surrogate parents," the other one continues as if he never has been interrupted. "So he's probably more my kid than, I don't know, Sean, for example. The fact that he has the potential to be an Alpha probably helped, to be true. But I know what you meant. Yeah, no, I don't have any cub that we didn't adopted."

There is another silence that Connor doesn't dare to break. It's not his role to snoop into anyone's life, even less angels higher than him in the pack dynamics - which means almost everyone, since he's considered an Omega as long as he's wounded. But then the Alpha is talking again and the young angel's heart drops at how thick Mike's voice had turned. He doesn't feel relaxed at all now.

"We- Jeremy and I, we actually had a cub, long time ago."

Okay, that was new.

"It was before all of this, before the Sanctuary... Before everything good, basically," he trails off, waving a hand in the warm air. "It was when we were still... Still down there. We were scared as fuck, because who knew what would happen to us if they found out, right ?"

He has a strangled, sad chuckle that really sounds like a repressed sob.

"It's terrifying, you know, when someone has the power to completely break you and everything you know and love. We weren't even strong enough to protect ourselves, so a baby angel ?" he winces, but resumes. "In the end, they didn't even had the time to discover anything."

"What... What happened ?" asks Connor, and he's surprised to hear how tiny his own voice is.

"We were too young." Michael simply says and shrugs, hugging his knees close to his chest and turning his face away from Connor, but the other one still can spot tears in the Alpha's eyes.

A soft sniffle cross the cave to his ears and Michael says again :

"Turns out that constant stress and terror plus bad living conditions don't help with early pregnancies. In the end, Jeremy miscarried and I... I almost lost him too."

His voice is blank, but his eyes betray his misery. Connor's heart breaks a little.

"I'm... Shit, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked..."

"No, it's not your fault, really. You didn't know. We, we didn't know either, so, hm," he shrugs, drying his eyes.

"Still, I'm sorry. This shouldn't happen to anyone."

"Yeah," and Michael's voice is thicker than ever. "Yeah, I know."

Connor feels somewhat despicable, laying a few meters away from someone who had it so rough and is bottling it, while he's here ruminating about human extermination. Who cares if he had lost his virginity, his dignity and his will to live ? He shouldn't feel so broken when people are suffering in silence next to him. He hasn't the right to. There is a long sigh coming from the other side of the cave and Michael rubs his eyes again with a chuckle.

"I don't know why I told all this," he says, and for a few seconds his voice is almost back to normal - almost.

"Guess you needed to get it out," Connor softly replies, cheek still pressed against his nest.

"Yeah. Guess there's a part of me that wants to."

A new silence, and then Connor suddently shots his head up and asks :

"Do you smell that ?"

Chapter Text

It's past midnight when Zec is back on duty and rushing to the surveillance room. Louis isn't sitting alone in front of the screens anymore : Heather is here too, watching carefully every feed after the other, and Christine is sitting a little bit behind, moving around a bunch of papers.

"So !" Zec announces his arrival, "What did I miss ?"

They all look at him with dead eyes, before Christine chooses to speak up :

"Well, you missed Mike kicking Connor in the face for no reason and then rushing out of the cave, and a fight between Jared and Phillip. Now Jared is guarding Evan's room and he doesn't let anyone pass except Heidi, Alana and Jeremy. Phil has a bloody nose by the way."

"Oh, perfect," the ranger rolls his eyes. "I'll take care of the bloody nose, can someone bring suppressants to Evan before he dies of dehydratation ?"

"On it," Louis and Heather say at the same time, and Zec leave them as soon as they start a shifumi to decide who does what.

"Zec, wait up !"

Christine rushes after him, half of her sheets flying around and he stops to allow her to reach him. She tries to catch her breath, muttering curses to her too short legs, and once she's able to speak, she talk again :

"I wondered if I could show some of the progress my class made tomorrow. Uh, I mean, this morning, since it's already 0:34," she adds, glancing at her watch. "Anyway ! Can I ?"

"I don't decide, Chris, you have to talk about it to the direction."

"I did, and they told me to ask you," she points out.

"Why ? I'm not in charge of anything. If they actually did their job it would be easier for everyone."

"Because you're the one with the mid-day turn of visitors, and it would be easier for you if you had a pause in the middle. So I wondered, why don't I give him this pause by showing what the angels have learnt these past months ? And so you have like a hour to do whatever you want before you take your group back !"

"That's... actually a good idea," Zec's smile slowly making his way on his face. "Good thing I bought so many treats, then. By the way, can I give you an advice ?" he asks, and adds when she nods. "You should work with your most serious students : with so much attention angels like Jared might not be concentrated enough to work correctly."

"Right, better ask Tora and Lewis then, and Alana, Lisa... And Fergus."

"... Fergus started sign language ?" he chuckles, incredulous.

"Yeah !" she beams, jumping around. "He didn't look conviced at first, but now he's really good at it !"

"That's nice to hear. Well, if we're done here, I'm gonna take care of Phillip's nose and then head to bed. See you tomorrow ?"

"See you !" she shouts from across the hall, already running back to the others.

Zec decides that the next day will be a good day.

____________________________________________________________________________

Evan spends the night hugging his mom and muffling his whines in her shoulder. He doesn't know what's happening, but he wants it to stop already. He's pretty sure he lost half of his body fluids while crying. Heidi is soothing him, whispering good things in his ear and brushing his hair off his face. He must fall asleep of exhaustion at some point, because he jolts up at the sound of bickering next to him, and takes a few minutes to process that Jared is whispering-shouting at someone out of the cave. There is no light, but he notices Alana standing right behind Jared as a second shadow and his mom sitting next to his nest, still watching after him. As soon as she notices that he's awake again she silently gives him some water, helping him to sit. His legs are weirdly unresponding and his whole body is still shaking, but it's less violent than before. He's back to sleep before he can even notice.

The next morning, everyone is gone, except for Heidi who brings him a piece of apple and a rabbit leg. He isn't in pain anymore, but he feels weirdly hollow and very tired. Heidi grooms his wings as he eats, warming the air with her sweet Beta scent.

"Who was fighting last night ?" he asks at some point, a bone poking comically out of his mouth as he tries to talk around the meat.

"Jared and Phillip. They both were worried about you, but Jared got a little... Overprotective. He didn't want anyone to get close to you as long as you were unable to get up. How do you feel, by the way, honey ?"

Evan swallows down and wonders if he can be honest. He opens his mouth and at the last second decides that his mom doesn't need to know absolutely everything :

"I'm... good."

Heidi frowns, like every times she's suspicious, and Evan wonders why he even bother trying to lie to a Beta. Of course she knows he's not really okay.

"I'm, uh, better, than yesterday. That's what I meant."

"Evan, dear, I know it wasn't easy. And I'm sorry you had to get through that so soon, but you have to know that this kind of... crisis... shouldn't happen often in the future."

"What- what exactly happened ?" Evan asks.

"That's what we call an empty heat."

"... It doesn't sounds like a regular heat."

"It is not a regular heat," Heidi sighs. "It's almost like a classic one, like Tex, Nora and Chuck had last week, but it's more like a false alarm. It happened because your first heat was way too soon, that's all."

Evan frowns. Heidi smiles and joins he hands on her lap.

"I mean that sometimes your body thinks it's ready to have cubs, but it's not for some reason. Because it's too soon, like now, or because it's too close to a previous heat, or because of intense stress."

The small angel gulps at the thought that he could have to deal with this every three months, but his mom cuts him in his thoughts.

"Empty heats hurt a lot, dear, because your system is fighting itself, but it doesn't apply for every heat. You will be fine for the next, I promise," she adds, patting his knee.

"Did you... Did you ever had an empty heat, mom ?"

"Of course !" Heidi smiles. "I had four, actually. But it was a long, long time ago. You know, they may hurt like hell but at least they don't last long."

Somehow, knowing that his mom - and probably every adult of the pack - came through this before him calms down his nerves. And after all, he's satisfied with the fact that this empty heat only lasted a few hours. What if he had to bear it for two days or more ? Evan shudders, not wanting to thing about it. Right now, he just want to get back to sleep, better if it's with someone. He turns to his mother, who's up for some reason and walking out of the cave.

"M-Mom ?"

"Ah, sorry, I forgot to tell you. There are humans all around the territory, and the Alphas and I are trying to keep the cubs from doing regretable things."

"O-Oh, okay. Then I'll just. Hum. Find someone to nap with.D-Do you know if..?"

"Alana is with Christine and Jared left this morning to keep an eye on Phil."

"And C-Connor ?" Evan winces, preparing himself to stay alone.

"Last time I saw him he was having a sun bath, but it was like, five hours ago. You should probably check on him," she says, a hint of something Evan doesn't reconize in her voice.

"Hum, I, uh, I'll do that. Thanks mom."

"Love you !" she shouts as she flies out of his room.

So, to Connor he goes.

____________________________________________________________________________

Connor is half-asleep when he smells a familiar anxious scent coming through the entrance. His groggy brain takes its time to process the fact that his wings don't need any stretching exercise, and that Evan has no other legitimate reason to visit him. The small angel passes his head inside the cave and his face seems to lit up when he catches Connor's eyes. There is the same tense silence as usual, but Evan finally steps forwards and waves awkwardly.

"H-Hi Connor."

"Hey Evan."

A new akward moment of tension. As usual. God, they really need to learn how to communicate, don't they ? So Connor sighs and takes the initiative, as much for breaking the silence as for saving Evan from a nervous breakdown.

"My wings are alright, thanks for checking."

"Hum, a-actually I'm the one that-that needs something, today..." he says, his hands fidgeting on the seams of his overall.

Connor raises an eyebrow. Tables turn, it seems.

"What do you need ?" he yawns, and Evan instinctively steps back at the sight of the long, sharp teeth.

"I, hum. I-I... Can I n-nap with you ?"

The taller angel blinks, taken aback, but then moves to the side to make him some space. Evan gladly climbs into the nest and curls up next to him, muffling a yawn in turn. They're not quite touching, but they're close enough for Evan to appreciate the warmth. He closes his eyes and wraps his wings around him, wiggling a bit to find the best position possible without overstepping on his neighbor.

"So. I heard you had a rough night ?" Connor asks after a few moments of - almost - comfortable silence.

"Hmm. Had my f-first heat," he mumbles, cheeks and ears burning, head half-buried in his arms.

Connor winces and lets go a low whistle.

"Ow. Sucks to be you."

Evan opens carefully an eye and looks up at Connor. He's laying on his back, his right side propped against the soft edge of the nest, his head resting on the crook of his elbow, his sight fixed on something above Evan's head. For the first time, Evan takes a proper look to him. He has to admit, Connor is really nice to look at : everything about him is long and sharp and fine and... Evan snaps his eyes shut when he catches himself staring and wonders why he's still not down from his hormonal ride after so many hours. When he looks up again, Connor doesn't seem to have noticed anything and is still staring at the ceiling dreamily. For some reason, Evan's stomach decides to make a few back flips and he suddenly claps his wings in front of his face, knowing that he's probably a flushed mess. He hears a small snort from Connor.

"What is happening in your brain for having this kind of reaction ?"

"N-Nothing !" he squeaks way too fast to be credible.

"Suuuure," Connor rolls his eyes. "Didn't you say you were here to sleep ? Why don't you do that instead of thinking whatever you're thinking ?"

"W-Well, shouldn't y-you ?"

"Oh, now you're sassing me ? Please, give me a break, Ev, I can't deal with so much in one day."

Evan peeks through his feathers up to Connor and is surprised to see a small smile across his face. Oh, okay, he's not actually mad. With a sudden confidence boost, Evan sticks out his tongue at his fellow angel and closes his wings around him again, trying to hide the stupid grin gaining ground on his face. Connor mumbles something under his breath that sounds a lot like a string of colorful swears and something along the lines of "oh God save me", whatever it means, but he's smiling too.

"I don't, hum, I don't actually n-need to sleep, I. I just don't want t-to move. O-Or stay alone all day. Since. You know. There are, uh, there are humans out-outside."

"Then what do you suggest ? Talk until one of us dies of exhaustion ?"

There is so much eye-rolling in his tone that Evan can't help but giggle. Connor shifts next to him, slightly elbowing him in the wing in the movement. He mubles an appology and sits properly, legs crossed properly between them. From where Evan is, he can see how pale Connor's stomach actually is, almost translucid. The skin looks so smooth too, he wonders how it would feel under his fingers. Evan slightly scowls at himself : this is definitely not the kind of thoughts he's supposed to have while laying in someone else's nest. so he forces his eyes to get higher, away from the clear patchof skin above the low overall, and looks up to the cast.

"Hey, C-Connor ?"

The other angel hums, questioning, focused on cleaning one of his larger feathers from hay.

"Does it still hurts ?"

This time he looks up from his fluff to look at the young lain in front of him, then at his gigantic cast.

"What, that ? No. ...Not as much as it did at first anyway."

"Will... Will your wing w-work again ?" Evan asks, tilting his head up to have a better look on the entire thing.

Connor shrugs. A new silence. The tall angel thinks of what was said the night before. Wonders if he has the right and the legitimity to talk about what happens outside. Evan doesn't know, and fortunately will never have to know. He lives in a golden cage, Connor reminds himself, away from whatever can hurt him. That the whole point. He doesn't know. He doesn't have to know.

It hits him : that's exactly what can corrupt Evan. As long as he's oblivious, or in the dark enough about it, he can't get hurt. Not when there is a whole pack ready to protect him. Not when Connor is ready to shut the fuck up and bottle everything for the kid's safety. Not when he can do something about it.

Chapter Text

When people meet angels for the first time, they can be classified in two categories : the genuinely interested ones, and the cynical know-it-all ones. Most of the time, visitors are ears and eyes fully open, ready to absorb the tiniest piece of information about these feathered humanoids. But sometimes...

"What I don't get is why they are called angels if they don't have anything to do with the Bible."

Zec quietly huffs, raising his eyes to the hall's ceiling as if he could draw any strength from it, and swings on his heels to answer the annoying brat who's irritating him since half an hour. The group he's leading through the site is composed of a class of sixth graders and their young teacher, three students with thick notebooks tucked under their arm, a couple of old persons walking slower than crippled zombies, a man in his mid-forties, another that looks suspiciously like a weasel and a soccer mom with her embarrassed teenage boy. It's this particular lady who gives Zec headaches. He composes himself a mask of annoyed indifference and repeats what he's been saying for the past three minutes.

"They have been called angels even before christianism, ma'am" he tries to explain again, "Hints of angelic and human cohabitation have been dated from three hundred years before Christ, and some writings from early centuries after mention this designation a few times. It's only when humans started to write the Bible that they assimilated angels to the Lord's soldiers. Not the opposite."

The woman grumbles unintelligibly under her breath. Zec is back to his normal self and turns back to the bay window surrounding the middle part of the Sanctuary. Through the glass, he witnesses Jared's attempt to do a back flip in front of another group of visitors, on the other side of the territory, while Heidi is trying to prevent him from snapping his neck on the edge of the ring. Despite his irritation, the sight of his angels makes his mouth twitches upward. That's the moment he prefers, when he has to talk about them, what they came through and how well they are now. For starting, he points at the small group general direction :

"This is Jared. He was found in a trash can, at only two months old. We took him in, looked after him, fed him and introduced him to the pack. Now, he's adult and healthy, and will probably be the Alpha of his own pack when he'll be older."

A student politely raises his hand, waiting until he's done to question him.

"What's... Alpha ?"

"The pack is divided in four dynamics : the Alphas, who act as leaders and parents for the rest of the angels. There is the Beta, you can see her there," he adds and waves at Heidi, who waves back from the top of a tree. "She's the carer, she watches after everyone when the Alphas can't do it themselves and basically acts as the mom."

"So there are like, the parents AND the mom ?" the teacher asks.

"They do the rules, she gives the love. The biggest part of the pack is composed by Gammas, who don't have defined roles. And at the lowest rank there are the Omegas. They're the cubs, the wounded ones and the outcasts. And given that the Sanctuary Pack is composed by essentially outcasts, they don't really put away anyone."

"Do they care about the Omegas, then ?" the old woman wonders.

"Of course. It's a common misconception that Omegas are unwanted in the pack, but they're treated differently only because they're not able to provide the rest of them with food or services, that's why it's mostly growing youngs, old angels and healing adults."

He then points at Alex, sitting in the cool shadow of the nest wall, surrounded by Nora and their cubs.

"For example, Alex, the big one over there, recently got an arm amputated. Since it's not something he can totally heal from, he will probably be an Omega for life, unless he proves he still can hunt. It doesn't mean that he's leaved aside : on the contrary, he needs to be cared for. His mate Nora and their kids will stick around as long as he will need it."

"They have cubs ?!" one of the schoolgirls shrieks in awe. "Like, for real ? Some of the babies were born here ?"

"Not all but most of them. Evan, who's hiding at the moment, was the first one to be born in the Sanctuary. He's been followed by Alexander's and Nora's four kids, then Mathilde's and Texeira's and Lisa's and Caleb's. The rest of the youngs were either rescued or bought on the black market."

There is a silence during which everyone seems to recall these old commercials venting the merits of angel tears and feathers and bones and blood before the law forbids angel sale. The son of the catholic woman sheepishly raises his hands.

"Why aren't they protected yet ? They're so cool and we keep on hurting them."

Zec's heart squeezes. This boy asks the good questions.

"Because some people have no consideration for sentient creatures. Because they've been seen as livestock for so long. Because the government has other fish to fry than put angels on the IUCN Red List. And because we can't expect people who don't care for their own species to care for beings just so slightly different."

The teen makes a weird face, like he just bit into something sour, and glares at his shoes. Zec knows the feeling. He's been there before.

"Anyway, I will now let you to my colleague, miss Caligula, who will show you the progress she made with her sign language class. She speaks fluently enochian and teach the angels how to communicate with us."

Christine makes her way through the group, chirping hellos to everyone, and directs them to the other side of the arena, where a bunch of pack members are sitting nicely, waiting for her. By the time she arrives, Zec is already gone.

Chapter Text

He's walking down the hallway, a plastic box with pieces of food under the arm, directed to Connor's door. He has no idea how he's supposed to get him to go in the infirmary or if he will be allowed in the cave - probably not though. Zec is not completely naive. Nests are sacred.

He's very surprised to find Evan in Connor's nest, but at the same time he isn't, considering every other angel is out entertaining the public. Evan is asleep, rolled up to Connor's side, who's looking outside with a melancholic glint in his eyes. Zec huffs. He would have preferred the opposite, but that will do. He knocks gently at the heat-tempered glass of the door. Connor's head swipes in his direction and he bares his teeth menacingly, but without any actual fire behind it. He huffs again. He taps again and Evan's wing twitches. The young angel stirs and blinks, clearly trying to remember where he is, before meeting his caretaker's eyes and adresses him a tired smile. He stands up slowly and walks to the door ; behind him, Connor retreats carefully in the shadow of the room, growling quietly.

The door opens with a pressure noise and Evan comes to rub himself on Zec's uniform, making him laugh when they almost fall over.

"Oookay buddy, careful, you're starting to be too tall for this..."

Evan mumbles something that sounds like an excuse and he lowers his eyes. The ranger brushes the blond hair out of the angel's face, trying to meet his eyes again. When he finally finds them, he speaks again :

"Okay now. I need your help, Ev : can you try to make Connor come with us at the infirmary ? I need to check him too."

Evan tilts his head and for a second he wonders if the angel understands what is asked to him, but Evan simply looks over his shoulder in the other angel's direction, asking something softly in enochian. There is no response, but the growl stops. Evan adds something at which Connor replies : his voice sounds weird to Zec's ears, like the angel has a sore throat or hasn't spoken in a long time. Gonna need to check that, too. After a long moment, Connor finally steps out of the shadow and stands behind Evan, glaring warily at the human from the top of his two meters and half.

Zec leads the way, not bothering to look behind him to see if they're following him : of course Evan would be, and Connor seems ready to trust Evan enough to take the hint and climb in the bandwagon. Every other door is closed anyway, thanks to Heather up there in the control room, so even if the angel wanted to flee he could only go either in the infirmary or in a dead end, and it looks like he knows it. The ranger pushes the door of the small room and makes space for the two angels, dropping the box on the counter. Evan automatically hops on the examination table, careful to fold his wings over the other edge. Connor stands behind, unsure of what to do but still keeping a careful distance between him and Zec. Not that Zec can really blame him.

"So !" he says, turning back to Evan. "We gotta change your cast because I kind of forgot to tell you to keep it dry last time."

Evan's head drops sadly and Zec can't stop a pang of his heart : this kid really needs to be more sure of himself. He glances back : Connor is leaning on the door frame, his eyes fixed on them.

"No harm done, Ev. Just be careful next time or it may delay your healing," he adds as he looks for his smallest saw so not to scare him. "I'm going to remove it, check your bone and make a new one, how does that sound ?"

Evan looks suspiciously at the saw but nods nevertheless, handing his arm over. It takes some time to remove the moist cast and clean the skin, but when he's finally done and that the scan confirms that Evan's arm is almost healed, Zec changes his mind and puts the plaster bands in favor of a splint.

"If it itches you're free to take it off, but remember to put in back as soon as possible, alright ?" he says, showing him how to tie properly the velcro.

Evan unties and ties the bands again, looking up for approval. Zec smiles.

"Good. Now get down, it's Connor's turn."

The other angel stiffens and backs up, growling again. The ranger rolls his eyes, but he knows better than being annoyed at an untamed angel. Instead, he grabs the box of treats and shakes it in the door's direction. Connor's eyes narrow at the sound, his teeth still bare. Zec wonders how much time he still has before going back to resume the group tour.

"Please come in ?" he asks, opening the box. "I want to see if you're doing well."

Evan translates immediately and Connor blinks, scowl falling. Zec tries to appear relaxed and nonthreatening, his plastic container still in hand. The tall angel seems to weigh the pros and cons and finally takes an unsteady step inside of the room. Evan slips away from the bed, making room for him to maneuver. They swap places, Connor settling on the paper towel while Evan walks to the door and sits on the ground, rubbing absentmindedly his thumb over the velcro. The tall angel flinches when Zec steps closer and hands him over the box, but he doesn't recoil.

"Can I ?"

Connor doesn't move so Zec goes for it. Small victories. Connor takes the box. Hands were they can be seen, Zec comes ever closer and starts to poke at the large cast around the angel's shoulder and wing. As smoothly as he can, he breaks it in half, leaving only the arm captive. He inspects the skin, first, looking out for any visible wound, and has a sigh of relief when he doesn't find any. He moves next to the articulation of the wing, pressing his fingers on the ligaments, folding and unfolding the wing to see if it's jamming anywhere. Connor grunts and Evan shifts, as he gives the caretaker an unsettled look.

"Try to flap it," Zec requests.

Connor looks at Evan expectantly and the small angel translates, but then the tall angel answers something under his breath, and Evan shakes his head toward Zec, signing a cross with his hands.

"Can't or won't ?" Zec asks.

Connor then visibly tries to move his wounded wing, but a sharp cry escapes his throat and he gives up, his free hand crisped on his trapezus. Zec realizes that if he had claws, he would probably be ripping his muscle off.

"Okay, take it slow," Zec mutters, moving the angel's fingers away from the sore muscle. "Looks like you'll need re-education. The articulation looks clean and smooth, no node, no infection... That's good, that's really good actually. Do you have any trouble ?"

Before Connor can even say something, Evan steps in and makes grabby hands, then imitates a tremor. Zec smirks : that's pretty accurate actually.

"Cramps, uh ? Welp, nothing movement can't fix."

That said, he turns around and rummages through his medical stuff, eventually digging out a holding sleeve. As Connor looks unimpressed, he explains :

"This is just like the thing I gave Evan earlier, except it's not rigid. See, you tie it here and there, around your shoulder and chest. This one band goes under the other arm, there," he says as he clasps his hand on the velcro, "And this is supposed to keep your arm still. It's not supposed to be used like that, but it'll wrap around the base of your wing and your shoulder. It will keep everything flat and nice until you're all healed and ready to fly again."

Evan swallows and repeats the most of it in enochian. Connor frowns and asks something. The small angel steps out of the room, makes eye contact with Zec to be sure he's looking at him, then point at Connor and flaps his own wings - filling the corridor's width completely with creamy feathers - and then makes an inquisitive noise. It takes a few seconds to Zec to get it.

"Will he fly again, that's what you're asking ?"

Evan nods and gets in, sitting again on the ground. Zec inspects Connor's articulation with a critical eye. Then he looks up and meet both their stares, and he smiles :

"I think he will."

Chapter Text

"Do you trust him?" Connor asks as they heavily drop themselves in his nest.

"Who, Zec?"

"No, my seventh toe. Of fucking course Zec. Do you trust him?"

"I-I mean I guess?" the young angel shrugs. "He's always good to me a-and he's nice to my mom and he takes care of every member of the pack, so. I, uh, did you know that he's part angel? And also that he smells l-like the Sanctuary, which isn't much, but, hum. It's enough for me. He's like, part of the family."

Connor snorts and rolls his eyes. The fact that Evan considers a human - a human! - as family is something he can't wrap his brain around. Okay, true, he never actually hurt him, or anyone for what he knows. But he's still not one of them, and no matter how hard he seems to try, this isn't something that will change. Evan must catch his train of thoughts because he frowns and tilts his head nervously.

"Not all humans are bad. Some a-are genuinely benevolent. I swear, you can trust him."

"No, I can't. But I can trust you," Connor replies under his breath, and Evan stills.

"W... What?"

"I said-!" he grumbles louder, before calming himself. "I said... I can't trust humans. Not yet, at least, not after all... this," he adds, indicating his entire body. "But I can trust angels. And you... For some reason you didn't run away, no matter how hard I was on you. Whatever I could say or do you just... Shit, you just brushed it off like it was nothing! You sticked around after three moons of me being a complete asshole so yeah, I trust you. And if you trust this guy, I'll take your word for it."

Evan visibly gulps, blush making its way up his cheeks. "I, uh, thanks for your trust, I... guess.”

"Yeah, yeah, just don't fuck with it," the taller angel grumbles and he rolls on his side, focusing on the straps of his new holding sleeve.

There is moment of silence, as usual, because they don't know how to small talk, before Evan speaks again.

"Are people so bad outside? I-I mean I guess they are, else half of the pack w-wouldn't be here but... Did they, hm, did they hurt you a lot?"

Connor swears, this guy has a creepy obsession with humans. "I don't know, don't I look damaged enough to you?" he barks, flapping angrily his free wing. "Look at this, fuck, seriously look at this mess! A broken wing, not so long ago I still had a cast on my leg, one of my ribs is still missing and I don't have claws anymore! What does it takes for you to understand? They hate us out there, Evan, they fucking use us as livestock! They use us as infinite sources of blood, bones, tears and feathers! I've seen- I've seen so many of us bathing in their own blood, it is not something one is supposed to see. God, I've seen..! I've seen a kid without any feathers on her, because they pulled them all out. I've seen an old man with so many broken bones that he couldn't even raise his head to look at them in the eye while they finished him. I've seen this girl giving birth, two meters away from her mate's cold body. It was horrible, Evan, but of course you have no fucking clue of how bad it was."

His voice breaks on the way, but it doesn't matter, he doesn't care anymore. He's back there, in the dark barn, surrounded by his people, waiting for something they know nothing about but they learned to fear. He hears screams and whines. Desperate sobs of angels barely old enough not to be considered cubs. He's back in there and he can't breathe, all he can do is rocking back and forth wondering where is the rest of his pack, and waiting, waiting, always waiting. Waiting for an end that doesn't come, for a death that doesn't save him from the pain, and he can't breathe, he can't breathe no matter how much he tries to getting air inside of his lungs he simply can't. And all he can do is call their names, and tell their stories, and count their wounds: Donovan, Amelia, Athreus, Asuka, Karen, Brad, Evangeline, Mary, Casper and Levy and Marcus and Tasha and Anna and Castiel and Thomas and Adam and Franklin and Melody and the other thousand of names in his brain, screaming on top of each other, drowning his own thoughts and he just want it to stop and. And Evan is here, close, so close he can feel the warmth of his skin against him, he can see his own rolling on his shoulder, he can feel his trembling contained by his arms, he's not in the barn anymore, he's not surrounded by death, it's only him and Evan, Evan, Evan. It's only the two of them, in a nest, a safe space, no threat around, just them cut from the rest of the world. Just him, shaking uncontrollably in friendly arms, shrinking on himself as the horror of the last year finally crashes on him, seeping in every corner of his mind, squeezing the air out of his lungs, strangling him but he's safe, he's safe, it's over now and he's safe and he knows it but everything is too much and he just-

Connor goes suddenly limp in Evan's arms, obviously alarmingly fast. Before calling for help, however, his first reflex is to check his breath and pulse. Then, once he's sure he won't choke on his tongue, he rushes out as fast as his clumsiness allows him to.

Chapter Text

When Connor opens his eyes, there is a lot of people in his den, none of then looking at him at the moment. Too many people, in fact, and he frowns in discomfort. He notices Evan in the farthest corner, sitting rigidly next to an unpleased Jared. There are both the Alphas, sitting next to the entrance, Jeremy looking particularly agitated. Heidi is the closest to him, standing right next to his nest.

"What the fuck is happening ?" he grunts, interrupting Michael's monologue.

They jump at the sound of his voice and Evan gasps, turning to look at him. He feels like shit and probably looks like that too : his face is itchy, his eyelids sticking and he can't feel his left leg. Heidi is the first to react, dropping on her knees the closest she dares to come and offering him a handful of almonds and a bowl of fresh water. As he suspiciously takes them, he glares at the rest of the company.

"You didn't answer. What's up with your shenanigans ?"

He eyes Evan, leaning against the wall and doing his best to look anywhere but in his direction. The fuck..? Jeremy fidgets and passes his weight from a foot to another. Jared glares at Michael but the Alpha doesn't seem to notice or care. That's him who finally speaks, after what feels like an insanely long silence :

"You collapsed. We don't know yet why yet but we," he stops as Jared violently coughs in his back, " but I think it might be a good idea to let the humans know it happened. Just in case."
"And I," Jared huffs, his arms still crossed on his chest, "think that it's a very bad idea. It happened right after you met Zec, after all."

Connor frowns harder and looks at Heidi, that simply shrugs and shakes her wings, then at Jeremy that decisively looks indecisive.

"All I'm saying," Jared says again, his voice louder, "Is that it might be a trigger for him. We all know how unpleasant it is to..."
"Be back ?" Jeremy helps as he notices the younger Alpha struggling to find the good word.
"Yeah, that. We've always been careful not to scare anyone, why should Connor be treated differently ?"
"Because he's hurt, Jared !" Michael roars, reducing to silence the entire assistance. "He needs specific cares we can't provide, he needs regular check-ups that we can't give because we don't have the technology for that."
"We could..." Jared tries again but a sharp look cuts him before he can even start to explain.
"We can't. We need humans, whether we like it or not."

And with that, Michael storms out, looking like he needs to blow off some steam. Jeremy sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose and casts an apologetic glance at Connor.

"Don't mind him, he had a rough night."

Jared sniggers in the back, muttering "kinky !" before being shut up once again by his parent.

"Shut up Jared, you're not helping. Anyway," he sighs again, sitting at eye level with Connor. "I want you to tell me what happened precisely, without getting into the details if you can avoid it."
"I thought Evan told you everything ?" Connor winces a little at how bitter it came out.

There is a ruffle in the back but Connor doesn't bother looking up ; it must be Evan, shifting uncomfortably against the wall. Jeremy blinks.

"He... didn't, actually ? He only said that you stress-napped and he didn't know if it was something to be alarmed about."

Another shift at which Jared grumbles. Heidi clears her throat, readying herself to use her Beta tone.

"Despite some solid arguments Jared pointed out, I can't agree with him."
"Hey !"
"Connor," she adds, ignoring completely the young angel, "I've seen wounds all my life, so believe me when I say yours need to be closely watched. Our humans only wants our good."
"They do," Jeremy agrees, "That's why they're here everyday, keeping an eye open for any threat. But Jared has a point, thought : if you don't feel like being examined right now, just... Don't go. Don't make yourself sick over it, alright ?"

Connor nods, words uncooperative. Heidi stands up and gently ruffles his hair on her way out, quickly followed by the Alpha and soon-to-be Alpha. Evan doesn't move. Doesn't even look up. Connor rolls his eyes and swears internally before calling :

"Ev, don't make me drag you to the nest."

The smaller angel starts and looks at him with wide eyes but doesn't make him repeat. He clumsily gets down on all fours and walks over, sitting on the edge - both physically and figuratively. His wings shiver with anticipation, his eyes unsettled.

"You didn't tell."

It's not a question. Connor knows Evan didn't repeat what he heard to anyone. He just doesn't get why.

"No. I-I didn't."
"Why ?"

The smaller angel shrugs and rubs his arm, just above the splint.

"It wasn't m-my story to tell. I wasn't e-even supposed to hear it in the first place, so."

He frowns and looks at his shaking hands, as if he's wondering why his body is releasing so much tension. Connor squeezes his lips into a fine line and grabs the nervous digits, stilling them with his palm.

"No, you weren't."

A silence during which they don't look at each other. Evan squeezes Connor's fingers back, making him return to reality.

"Connor ?"
"Hm ?"
"Will you... I-If you need anyone to talk, you know, to get it off your chest o-or something, w-will you call me ? Will you talk to me ?"

He doesn't answer. Will he ? Would he ? He's been carrying this weight for so long, and it would be nice to share, make sure all of them don't go forgotten. But at the same time, he feels like it's his duty to bear it, like he has to be the one carrying it. He was there and he was one of the very few that got out alive. He knows it's probably only his survivor syndrome talking, but it's such a strong feeling one that tells him that he has to make it, whatever it costs him. He draws in a sharp breath : he's better than this. He can trust Evan, the young angel had proven it already.

"I don't know," he reluctantly replies. "Will you help me remember them ?"

Evan simply smiles back.

Later, as Alana and Jared make their way to Connor's cave, carrying their lunch in their arms, they're surprised to find their two friends scratching the walls of the den, Evan with his claws, Connor with a sharp stick. Both of them snap their neck when Jared announces their presence by clearing his throat, making them cringe in pain.

"The heck are you two doing ?" the small Alpha grins, walking to Evan to look at the wall and handing him over his food. "Are those... Names ? Who are all of those people ?"

Connor doesn't want to overshare, but little information is indispensable.

"The people that were with me and didn't make it."

Jared frowns and open his mouth to protest when Alana sits next to Connor and asks, pointing at the wall :

"May I ?"

As he raises an eyebrow, she starts to scratch the coating to add her own names. It's not as long as the list Evan and Connor are writing, but it's still twelve people. When she's done, she points at them, somewhat joyful :

"See, those are my first Pack. This is my mom, my dad, my two littermates and all of my younger siblings. This one is my uncle's mate and this is their daughter. Those are my grandmas, this one..."
"How can you talk about them so lightly ?" Connor growls, feeling hurt for some reason.
"Because it was a long, long time ago. And they wouldn't want me to mourn them, they'd want me to live my happy life with a pack that love me and protect me."

She's smiling, a true, sincere smile that doesn't hide any afterthought. No message to draw from that. Still, Connor can't help but feel a little bit targeted by the explanation. Meanwhile, Jared adds in silence his own dead at the list next to Evan's. Evan, surprisingly, has a few names written in small, right next to his part of Connor's list, as if he doesn't want to overstep. Three names solely : Elia, Darren and Harley. Connor doesn't ask about them. He doesn't ask about any of them. Instead, he takes a step back to admire their work : the smaller part of the wall, the one where it almost merges into the ceiling, is completely covered in enochian. His writing, mostly, but here and there he can spot Evan's, when he didn't have any more room on his side of the wall. Down, right above the ground, there is Jared's. Alana's is in the middle, clear and neat. Standing proudly.

That's what he should be, really. Proud of being alive. Proud of having made it so far. Proud of being less broken than expected. He knows he should feel honored to be the one recalling these people that couldn't be saved, the one recording their names and stories, but he can't make himself feel good about it. One day, maybe.

____________________________________________________________________________

Zec isn't one to stay seated behind a desk all day : he's a man of action, a jack of all trades that needs to keep moving to feel useful, but sometimes paperwork is stronger than any will. So here he is, in one of the offices on top of the center's administrative building, trying to fill an exchange form.

Half of the cubs are now almost adults, old enough to participate to the breeding program. He doesn't plan on sending any member of the pack in another Sanctuary, of course : it'll be more likely lonely angels from private groups or clinics to come over and maybe integrate the pack. Zec hasn't good memories from the previous 'true' exchanges : one of them resulted in Evan being raised by one parent, another in a fight between Yuri and the Alpha of the Pack he was sent to and the third being purely and simply the disappearance of the angel.

This one really had been a hard blow for the staff. Harley was now remembered as a good pack member, a negotiator before Heidi, and losing her destroyed a lot of nerves. Years after, no one knows what actually happened to her, but the investigation proved that the other exchanging Center never existed. For what they knew, they handled their angel to a dealer that sold her to the black market. Losing angels is always a shock, no matter how many times it happened before, and Zec isn't sure he can get over it, ever.

Back to his form, he takes care to only check the case for import, keeping his pack safe in the Sanctuary. He surprises himself wondering if Evan could win a mate out of it : it could be good for him and maybe temper his anxiety. His broken arm could be a problem, but fortunately between the moment the ranger does the paper and the moment the request is actually acknowledged, there is enough time to patch him back together. Hoping Leandro doesn't do another dick move. Dammit, 'Andro.

Chapter Text

"Hey Zec, wanna see something cute ?" Louis whispers as he pokes his head through the break room door.

The ranger rubs his eyes and gets off his cot, careful not to wake up his right neighbor.

"Sup," he asks, following his best friend in the camera room.
"I was checking on everyone and... There, look at them," he points at the screen showing Connor's den.

Zec has to squint to make out the form in the dim light of the cave, but once he sees he can't help but smile. Connor and Evan are nested tightly together, Alana curled up against Evan's flank and Jared being back to back with the taller angel, his wing outstretched to cover everyone.

"Jared is taking his Alpha role very seriously," Louis grins, leaning on the table. "They've been puppy-piling for an hour or so, but they just fell asleep."
"Yeah, I guess the day had been rough. Any news on Connor's condition ?" Zec yawns, rubbing his eyes again.
"From the reports of the previous watchers it seems that he's been acting normally. We should keep an eye open for him, though. You heard about him fainting ?"
"Mmmh. He seemed alright when I examined him, but... I guess there is not much we can do for PTSD." There is a minute of silence, and then Zec stands up and stretches, groaning when his articulations pop. "I should probably get back to work."
"Uh, no way ?" Louis frowns. "You've been at it for twenty-two hours straight, man. You gotta get some sleep."
"I've been taking a four hours long nap !"
"Zeche," his best friend sighs, "You're overdoing it again. You do that every fucking time, you're not invulnerable, you know ! You're just a human, and it means that you have to sleep and eat normally sometimes. Even if it's only to stay efficient. Please."
"I'm not... Just, with the group visits I haven't had a single moment to check on them aside from changing Evan's cast and checking Connor's back. Look, I'm worried about them, okay ?"
"I'm worried about you," Louis mutters as he hugs himself and lowers his head. "One day you'll just... Push yourself too hard and you won't be able to get up again. I know you, bro, I know how you work. And I've seen you fall too often to let you harm yourself, so either you get some rest, either I'll call the boss and make him force you to take a day off."
"...You spend too much time with Heather," Zec grumbles.
"And you spend too much time with your angels," Louis' smile is weak, but at least it's here. "Go home. Get a full night for once. Call Eden, maybe ? I bet it's been a while since you last saw her."

Zec gives up, to Louis' delight, and calls it a day as he fishes his car keys from his jacket. The idea of his bed doesn't sound so aweful, after all.

_______________________________________________________________________________

The next morning, Connor surprises everyone by getting outside at the same time as the rest of the Pack. At first it's very tentative, and he feels self-conscious with every angel looking at him in awe, but in the end he makes a run for it and joins Evan on the edge of the pond. The small angel seems oblivious to his presence, keeping perfectly still as he stares at the water. Connor decides against scaring him and sits under a tree instead at respectful distance, watching him fish.

It's weird what a good lighting can do to someone. In the sun of mid-morning, the young angel's hair is shining, every single one of his feathers is glossy and his tense muscles look somehow more defined under his skin. Not that Connor didn't know before that Evan is stupidly thick : they cuddle enough by now for him to know that, Evan is far from chubby, unlike what he thought at first - this is only another proof of how genuine he was. He distractedly acknowledges that he's staring, but it feels like he's seeing his friend for the first time. And he must admit, he likes it a lot.

Evan snaps forward, his head completely underwater, and Connor almost makes a move to get him back on earth, away from the water that is definitely not an angel's place, but Evan is already back to his initial stance, his jaw clicking back into position as he glares at the pond like it personally offended him. Connor's teeth dig in his bottom lip in an attempt not to laugh. Droplets are running down Evan's hair and face, catching even more light, and the tall Omega simply can't help but think : Evan looks pretty fucking good when he's wet.

And here he goes again, this time diving to the shoulders, his jaw snapping loudly underwater. He stills, hands gripping firmly grass, and Connor wonders if he's not drowning or something. As he steps closer, just in case, the water around Evan's head slowly turns red and something floats back to the surface. A head. It's a fish head that's fixing him with dead eyes as Evan slowly emerges and falls back on his ass, his teeth deep into a now headless fish. His take falls from his mouth the instant he notices Connor's presence and bounces flabbily on the ground next to him.

"Connor !" he squeaks, nervously weeping his mouth from fish blood and pond water. "Have, hum, been there for long ?"
"Long enough to witness that catch," Connor's mouth twitches upward.
"Oh. Do you... Do you want some ?" Evan fidgets as he indicates the fish.

Connor sits closer, not without nudging Evan away from the water because ew, liquid, and watches him open his prey in half. Half-way through the fish, Evan brings mindlessly his fingers to his mouth to clean his claws, and for some reason it makes Connor's throat dry and his ears burn. He swallows hard and leans backwards against the tree and a little bit away from Evan because damn, why is Connor feeling so hot all of sudden ?

Evan doesn't seem to realize what kind of trouble Connor is in and hands him the fish over, but his gaze distractedly travels up to meet Connor's and he frowns at how red he looks.

"A-are you alright ?"

Connor snaps the fish and bite it, stopping himself from saying something stupid that he will definitely regret. The smaller angel doesn't seem to be less suspicious but thankfully doesn't push it, chewing instead on his own half with barely hidden glee, water dripping on his collarbone and down his overall, and for a second Connor forgets how his mouth is supposed to work.

Fuck.

Chapter Text

Zec has been having a decent evening so far. In fact, he can even tell that he's been having a good time : after a full night of sleep, he called Eden first thing in the morning for the first time in days. They went to the movies and then out to eat. She's been prettier than usual, and Zec is glad to have her around. The sun is out, even if the weather is somewhat cooler than the previous days - it's early September, after all. They leave each other at the park because she has an appointment with one of her clients ; once he gets home he starts to clean up, makes the laundry that has been around for decades, gets the trash out... It's only when he washes the dishes that are already stacked in the dresser that he realizes he's stress-cleaning. He drops his plate and his sponge and exhales deeply. He should be relaxing instead of doing whatever he's doing, but... It feels like it's not okay. No one from the Sanctuary called him so far, which should be good, right ? No emergency, no last-minute commando rush to abandoned kennels, no angel needing to be saved. It should be good, but Zec can't shake off the feeling that anything can happen to his angels as soon as he looks away. He looks at the clock : it's three minutes past midnight, it's been precisely twenty-three hours and twelve minutes since he drove away the previous night. He can't believe he's been keeping track of this.

He eventually drops on the couch and turns on the TV with a huff, switching channels mindlessly until he finds a wolf documentary. He mutes it and opens his laptop, decided to think about something else. But he fails, and finds himself looking into the Government official website to see the advance of the angels protection law. As far as he can tell, it's not going anywhere, despite Eden's best efforts to get through the embargo. He then googles the names of a bunch of associations currently working with the Sanctuary. Hell & Purgatory Institution, despite the spooky name, is one of their oldest associate that protects seventy-three angels at the moment ; there is the Manor, a newcomer in the field that only counts sixteen angels, but two of them born in captivity ; the Social Caretaker Partnership, to whom is redirected most of the seriously injured survivors... He has been in their offices, met the rangers, has seen the territories : he trusts them almost as much as he trusts the members of the Sanctuary.

He still can't shake the feeling that something is wrong when he's not on duty. Being at home, on his couch with eight hours of sleep behind him isn't how he depicts his perfect afternoon. He casts a sidelong glance at his cellphone, resting on the end of the coffee table, and almost grabs it. Almost. He huffs in frustration. This is exactly what Louis was talking about : he's turning into a workaholic to the point that he's ready to call himself just to be sure everything is fine. But, of course, everything is fine. Everything is fine, right ? Either way he would have received a call y now, or at least a text, but no, nothing, so it must be okay. Everything is okay.

He forces himself to relax and sinks back into the couch. The TV is now passing another program, and he reaches for the remote to turn back on the sound. It's a correspondent live from the city jail, saying that the man escaped last week, Mario Rossi, still isn't found. Apparently, the man has been incarcerated for human, angel and unusual pet traffic, which isn't pretty to start with, but it gets better : he is accused of murder, physical and emotional abuse, illegal use and sale of angel-based products, rape and another bunch of nice, nice things. Yikes.

Zec frowns and scoots closer, looking at the suspect's picture. Seen up close, Rossi kind of looks like an angry weasel, which gives him the weirdest feeling of déjà-vu, like he's almost certain that he saw the guy's face once. Almost like he was... Zec jolts up from his seat and grabs his cellphone, pressing the speed-dial number. Paces in the living-room waiting for someone, anyone to pick up. As soon as the fifth tone rings he hangs up and runs to his car, swearing like a sailor, because this is exactly the kind of crap he was expecting the universe to pull while he isn't looking.

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It's late at night, at least late enough for the whole Pack to be asleep - except for Mathilde who's having a insomnia crisis - but Connor's place is buzzing with activity. Since Jared had decided to go sleep with his parents and Alana babysits Tora and Lewis, Evan and Connor have the den all for themselves, which really shouldn't make Connor so happy. It's not like it's different from usual, just him and McAnxious Scentingpants over there cuddling. It happens twice out of three. He really, really should stop grinning right now, because it's nothing special, he's just having Evan for himself tonight. No big deal. No big deal, right ? Evan's hands are on Connor's wing's articulation and God, that's good when it stops convulsing. He releases a huff and settles a little better in the soft fabric of the nest, gently grabbing Evan's left wing when it crosses his field of vision, taking bits of straw out of the fluff.

"Y-You've been weird today. Are you okay ?"

Connor looks up and meets Evan's clear eyes. How long is he supposed to hold that gaze for it to be a "normal" eye contact ? Fortunately for him the younger angel almost immediately glances away. Connor rolls his eyes a little and grumbles :

"I've been perfectly normal, the Hell are you talking about ?"
"At the lake too, you've been... Just, off, I guess. Are you s-sick or something ?"
"I'm... Urgh, you know what ? You scared the shit out of me when you put your head underwater earlier."
"Oh," Evan simply replies, his voice soft and low and doing illegal things to Connor's chest. "Well, I, uh, you don't have to worry or anything, really. I-I know how to dive and swim and get back to the s-surface once I hit rock bottom so."
"Water is not where an angel should be."
"Y-Yeah, well excuse me if I like water. I can deal with myself just fine. You shouldn't e-even care about it."
"...Are you mad at me or something ?" Connor asks with a tiny voice, not daring to look at him.
"No !" Evan cries, his hands immediately leaving the spot on Connor's shoulder. "I... Look, I've fallen in the pond a few months after m-my birth, so Zec taught me how to get out of the water without hurting myself. Mom showed me the safest spot of the shore where I can f-fish without losing foot. I've b-been doing this most of my life, alright ? I know w-what I'm doing, so could you maybe, I dunno, trust me a-about it ?"
"Wow, I... I'm sorry, Evan," Connor blinks. "It's just that... I've always been told to stay away from water because our feather aren't waterproof or something. "
"Hum, it's true actually ?" he says as he picks at his splinter.
"Then how..?"
"I mostly get my head wet ? It's r-rare when I dive entirely. P-Plus, it's kinda hard to get out afterward cause it makes y-you a lot heavier and lumpish ?"

Connor turns around just enough to see his friend. He opens his mouth to ask something when he's unceremoniously interrupted by a high-pitched shriek. Evan immediately shots up from the nest, his heartbeat so fast that Connor can hear it, and runs to the entrance. His face blemishes in the moonlight.

"Intruders," he whispers and his fingers spread immediately, claws shining in the dark.

Connor instinctively melts in the shadows, a low growl rumbling in his throat. He can hear the rest of the Pack moving through the walls : there is Jeremy's voice raising warily, Phil's nervous rustle next door, Alana screaming something two rows above his heads... Then there are voices, human voices, and footfalls too close to the nest wall. Connor can feels the goosebumps on his bare arms and the hair rising on his neck. Evan isn't moving, eyes fixed on something outside, out of Connor's sight.

"They're not o-our humans," Evan gulps quietly.
"How many ?" he whispers back.
"Two, m-maybe three ? They're l-looking into the nests."
"What the fuck ?! They can't do that !" Connor is indignant.
"They have g-guns or something ? No, wait, those are tranquilizer guns. They're at the e-end of the row... Should we run ?"
"They' see us. Come back."

Evan walks back as quietly as possible and blends in the shadows, despite his whole body shaking. They hear Mathilde trying to fly up to her own nest, but if the scream and the loud thud is anything to go by the humans shot her. They hold their breath, ears out, waiting for the inevitable instant where one of them will reach the other end of the row, where their den is, where they are, and they will shoot down the two of them and-

"C-Connor !! What are you doing ?!"

But Connor can't hear him over his deafening heartbeat as he rushes out, right to the copse where he has a chance to lose them, because he knows they're behind him, he saw them run after him right where he wants them, right where he can hide, and most importantly, away from the nest. He'll do anything to keep the danger away from Evan, even if it means that he has to throw himself in their hands.

When he can't feel his legs anymore, he starts to climb. He hasn't climb for ages, but muscle memory probably saves his life : as soon as he's still, he sees them ruffling underneath him, makign their way through the thick vegetation. In the distance, he hears angels shrieking and roaring, a few gunshots, human swearing. He hears Heidi calling for help, Michael fighting, Clarisse screaming from the top of her lungs... He screws his eyes shut and prays with all his soul for Evan to be okay. Then he hears another gunshot, yelps when something sinks in the meat of his arm and topples over the branch he was sitting on. The world turns black before he even touches the ground.

Chapter Text

It's an understatement to say that Evan is terrorized. In less than an hour his entire world, his safe space, the one spot on Earth where he's welcome, turned into Hell. He doesn't know how he managed to climb back into his own nest without being noticed, but he did, and now he's a privileged witness of the havoc caused in the Sanctuary.

On the lunch spot, the three humans have assembled every angel they managed to put their hands on. He feels sick seeing how there is basically half of the Pack lying on the ground, not moving because of the sedatives. Mathilde is bleeding so much that even him can see it, at night and a hundred meters away ; Phil, Rosa, Maël, Jasper and Clarisse are piled up over Alex like insignificant potato bags ; Michael and Jeremy are both on the ground, the first one squished under one of their attackers' boot ; Connor, finally, is unconscious and slumped on his bad wing, its angle too unnatural to be safe. Evan want to scream and cry and claw the humans' eyes out, all at the same time. This is a nightmare. He has no idea how to wake up.

Half-leaning on the entrance of his cave, he catches the glimpse of Alana's wings, who's discreetly climbing the wall and pushing Tora, Lewis and Sean towards the highest nests, the ones that can't be reached without claws or wings. Leandro is hiding with Texeira, Heidi, Jared and Robbie on top of the cat tree, while Lisa, Caleb, Fergus, Chuck and Nora are flying high under the dome, out of range for the guns. Roman, Yuri and Karen are nowhere to be found.

This is how Evan depicts the Apocalypse. He's paralized by fear while his family is being hurt under his eyes. He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't understand why their humans - the good ones, the ones with the food and medicine and warm smiles - aren't here to save them, and Zec, why isn't Zec here ? Where is everyone when they're needed ? He doesn't realize he's crying until tears drop on his fists. Alana passes next to him and stops for a second, sharing an agonizing look before she's climbing again, pushing the terrified cubs higher and higher, away from danger.

Evan sobs and curls into a ball, biting into his fist to muffle the sound, unable to take his eyes away from the macabre scene taking place down there.

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"For fuck sake, Louis..." Zec grits through his teeth as he's trying to call his friend, an eye on the speedometer and the other on the road. "Goddammit !"

He throws his phone on the passenger seat and accelerates. He wants to believe that everything is still good, that the Sanctuary is just undergoing a power outage and that's why no one is picking up the freaking phone, but deep down he knows it's not gonna be so easy. He picks up his phone again and calls the police instead.

Let's recap : two days ago, a man that broke out of prison visits the site during the annual site opening, along with the rest of a large group, presumably to do some tracking without being noticed. Zec remembers Rossi asking about the architecture and how rangers get in and out of the territory. He feels so stupid now, answering precisely how the door works and which corridor is used to evacuate angels. Back to the facts. Tonight, while the general attention is more lax due to "nothing happened during the visit, yay !", he breaks in and probably makes a mess. Every ranger is mobilized and that's probably why Zec can't get a hold on anyone. He sighs.

The woman that picks up at the local police station immediately reacts and keeps him on the phone while a squad is reunited. By the time she hangs up, he's already pulling up his car on the staff parking lot and running to the Sanctuary. As he rushes past the dome, he sees a bunch of his protegees flying unusually high, acute screams drilling the air every seconds. Distress cries. Calls for help. He slows down progressively until he stops and presses his hands against the glass. Inside, it's a flurry of feathers and claws and limbs storming everywhere, panic palpable. He knocks frantically, drawing Caleb's attention. The large angel's eyes widen when he spots the ranger and he makes his way in his direction.

"What is happening ?" Zec signs.
"Humans," Caleb replies, and immediately adds, "Bad humans."
"Where is everyone ? Where is the rest of the Pack ? Where are the healers ?" Zec asks out loud, having no idea how to translate it in sign language.

Caleb shrugs and digs his claws in the concrete of the wall, terror and pain filling his eyes. Zec starts running again.

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Evan saw Zec near the edge of the territory. He's sure of it. He wants it to be happening. So he stops crying, wipes his tears from his face and slams his fists on the metallic door. He hits and hits again and the metal whines under his hands, but doesn't give in. Evan doesn't care, he's not trying to get through, only to make enough noise to get the ranger's attention.

When he finally hears footfalls after what feels like a small eternity, he steps back and watches the door opening wide, Zec appearing behind it like some kind of savior. Without thinking, Evan grabs his wrist and pulls him in his den, not caring anymore about who's human and who's angel because Zec is Pack no matter what and Evan desperately needs him right now, so screw conventions.

"What's the situation ?" the man asks once he catches his breath.

Evan lifts four fingers and points at the ceiling, then five for the cat tree, another five for the top of the dome and then all of his fingers for the mess on the ground. He needs to get everyone out of here before anyone else gets hurt. Zec passes nervously his fingers in his brown curls and presses his eyes shut then snaps them open and clasps his hands on Evan's shoulders.

"Evan, listen to me. We're gonna evacuate. I need you to do exactly what I say, alright ?"

Of course, Evan isn't going to say no.

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It feels like Zec has been running a sprint, but on a marathon distance. His lungs and thighs are burning, he can't feel his feet and he's pretty light-headed from unconsciously staying in apnea for so long. First thing first, he checks the break room, the camera room and the cafeteria. Of course, no one, it would have been too easy. So he's checking every room when he finally crosses path with his team. Or, more accurately, Heather almost knocks him off with a shotgun as he's turning at a corner.

"Careful !" is the only thing he manages to shriek.
"...Zec ?" the tall blonde calls after a second. "The fuck are you doing here ?"
"Long story, not enough time. Where is the rest of the team ?"

Heather lets her weapon drop against her hip and exhales shakily, then quietly gestures towards the closest operating room. Inside, he sees Louis charging another gun while Christine is putting on a bulletproof vest. Nine other staff members, rangers, healers, surgeons and janitors all mingled, are readying themselves for the unavoidable assault. Zec would be impressed if the situation wasn't so fucked up.

"What are we doing ?" he asks instead.
"As soon as the police is here, we're charging," Louis mumbles from his spot. "We gotta save our angels."
"Oh fuck, right, about that," Zec facepalms himself. "Guys, careful when we get out, I opened every den door for Evan to gather the rest of the Pack and take everyone at the infirmary.We will probably meet some in the hallways, so don't shoot at sight," he adds at Heather's intention, who rolls her eyes.
"Folks, we have movement," Christine announces, looking up from her phone. "Police and army are here at our doors. Be ready in two."

It's definitely not how Zec was imagining his day off.

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Followed by Alana and the twins, Evan is making his way down the white corridors, looking nervously through each door, expecting a man they don't know to jump out and shoot them any instant. Sean is crying silently in his arms, too scared to move anymore. Sometimes Evan forgets that he's not the only one born in captivity, and that none of the Pack cubs know to handle this kind of violence. Even Alana looks about to throw up.

As soon as they reach the infirmary, he puts the young angel in his friend's arms and pushes them all inside, before going back to inspect the rest of the doors. Zec said that he opened everything except the two lowest rows, right ? So the men outside couldn't enter the backstage or something, Evan didn't get it completely. The point is, these hallways are "angels only" now. It's a small relief. He spots Yuri's buzz cut behind one of the open doors and hurries him to join the others, thing that the older angel does immediately, despite his shaking body and the look in his eyes. Evan guesses that he's having flashbacks, and not good ones.

What about the knocked off angels ? How is he supposed to get them ? He can't get out, they'll sedate him too. He doesn't want to know what could happen to him if they catch him. Bu the doesn't want to know what will happen to his packmates if they manage to abduct them, either, so he bids speed.

He climbs the stairs up to the last floor and witnesses Heidi and her group landing in three different dens, surprised to find the doors wide open like that. No time to explain, Evan is already taking them back to the infirmary, where everyone is squashing themselves over each other already. He realizes that soon, the spot will be too crowded to hide anyone more. He has to find Zec.

____________________________________________________________________________

"The fuck is that ?!" Zec yells as the building is shaken by an explosion.
"Dynamite ?" a doctor on his left guesses, pointing at the video surveillance screen in the angle of the room. "They made a hole in the wall !"
"Where is the police ?" Louis shrieks from the back of the room, and it would be funny if it wasn't such a dramatic moment.
"They're coming from the other side of the site, we can wait for them all night," Heather grunts and takes her gun, already opening the door.
"Waitwaitwaitwait what are you doing ?" Zec hisses as he grabs her elbow.

The blonde woman eyes him scornfully before turning on her heels and jabbing a finger in his plexus.

"I'm moving my ass, Ezechiel, that's what I'm doing. The authorities clearly won't arrive on time and there is a motherfucking van that is currently reverse gearing in that hole, ready to take our angels away from us. And no one else here looks ready to go, so, yeah. I'm. Moving. My. Ass." she concludes, pressing painfully her perfectly manicured finger into his chest.

Zec says nothing, looks simply at her dead in the eye before grabbing the nearest tranquilizer riffle and following her outside.

Chapter Text

Michael, unlike his packmates, hasn't been sedated but knocked out from behind when he wasn't looking. His head is throbbing, his back is sore and now, with the sole of a combat boot pressing against his cheek, he feels extremely pissed. Luckily enough, the owner of the shoe is looking away, in the direction of the nest wall, and is barely keeping him down.

He looks around. A bunch of his Gammas are lying a few meters away from him, piled on top of each other, while the two other outsiders are dragging Maël and Jasper in the back of a large vehicle. He recognizes Clarisse already in it, her head lolling back and forth as she's trying to fight the tranquilizer with little success ; Alex's breathing, from under the other angels still on the ground, sounds heavy and difficult. He glances up at the human, who fortunately is still preoccupied by whatever is happening on top of the wall, and then looks back at his Pack. He can smell Jeremy somewhere behind him, his scent masked by the chemical stink of the product. Not far from him, Connor is lying on his wounded side, his articulation bent in a weird angle. This is not good at all. And is that... Fuck, is that Mathilde's blood everywhere on the ground ?! He looks at her in alarm but winces when the heel of the boot digs in his temple, so he glares up at the guy still stepping on him instead.

How dare. How dare they hurt his Pack. This is not fair, this is supposed to be a place where humans can't hurt them. This is not some sort of angel farm, this is their home, they have no right to be here. This is where they live and take care of each other. This is the Sanctuary. It's just so unfair. Just because humans have guns and they don't, just because they somehow buried the fear of their kind in the brain of generations of angels, this kind of things can happen. It has to stop. It has to stop now.

He gets kicked again, this time in the jaw, strong enough to make him roll a little on the side. This is it, Michael decides, this is the last straw, and his head projects forwards before he can even think it through. His teeth sink into fabric, tear through it, dig into calf muscle, deeper, deeper until his canines hit something hard. Even then, he doesn't stop and closes his jaw around the leg, pressing and pressing until he can feel the bone snap between his teeth/

His ears pop and he realizes three things at the same time : one, the guy he attacked is screeching like mad ; two, there is the click of a trigger somewhere behind his head ; three, tranquilizer guns don't have triggers. He releases his grip and turns around growling. Something hits him in the chest with the rage of ten thousands suns.

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"They shot Micha," Louis mutters, visibly paling as he looks up from the camera feed.
"What ?" Zec stops at the door, looking at him in incomprehension.
"They shot Michael," his friend repeats, unbelieving.
"We have to go, NOW," Heather presses, a hand on the pump of her shotgun, and immediately finds herself followed by half of the team, Zec included.

It doesn't take them long to see the first traces of infraction : an entire chunk of wall is missing, scattered on the ground in tiny pieces of concrete and plaster. As expected, a large van is facing them in the corridor, the cabin empty and the driver in the back of the truck, helping with charging the fainted angels.

They get around it in silence, dumbstruck to see the butchery for real. Michael and Mathilde are pooling in their own blood ; two men are shoving Connor in the van without consideration for his broken wing ; above their head, a bunch of angels are looking down in horror from the dens. Zec is ready to make the first move, ready to put a stop to this madness, ready to save the day because it would be motherfucking time already, when a mop crosses the sky and hits Rossi himself right in the head.

"Hey !" the guy yelps and swings to face them, his gun still up from shooting Michael.

From there, it's a complete mess : fire is exchanged, everyone runs to find cover, people fall on the ground, one of the bad guys limps and climbs into the van while the other two retreat in the corridor.

"Aim for the tires !" someone screams behind Zec, but it's too late, the vehicle is already driving away.
"Nononono," he whispers before taking his walkie and shouting, "Louis get to your car, now ! They're getting away !"
"Copy that !" is the response he gets.

The van disappears desperately fast from their sight. In maybe ten seconds, it's over.

Zec stumbles in open field, his feet guiding him automatically towards his poor, wounded angels. He drops near Michael and checks his pulse, then the wound in the center of his chest. His mind is numb, his movements mechanic. He can't feel, he only gets his work done, trying his hardest to keep the Alpha alive, pressing his fingers on the wound but he's like switched off, methodical, robotic. There is no emotion anymore, no feeling for anything, it's only muscle memory working in his place. There is nothing, because how can he possibly handle so much ? How is he supposed to just, look at his hands, see the blood on them, and think clearly, "oh, this is Michael's blood, it's here because some random human liking traffic and violence wanted to get a hold on my Pack, and Michael was the only one to do something, and now he's hurt and now they're gone" ?

There is a voice in his brain, coming from the analytical part still operating, telling him that he's probably shocked, and that he's gonna have a mental breakdown in the next minutes, maybe the next hours if he's lucky. But not right now. Right now, the Alpha needs him, so Zec shuts up his brain and gets to work.

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Evan wants to cry, but for some reason his tear ducts aren't collaborating. Instead, he's frozen on the spot, his eyes unable to break away from the two lying bodies on the ground. Zec is leaning over Michael, seconded by two other people, known and friendly faces at least, while the rest of the group is around Mathilde. Next to him Tex bursts into tears and dives forward, landing full force next to them. Heidi follows her immediately, and he's behind her like a second shadow.

"Get out of my way !" she cries as she pushes through. "Let me go ! I need to see her !"
"Texeira !" Heidi warns her with her best Beta voice, but the angel doesn't even seem to hear her.
"Mathilde, oh God, please wake up," Tex sobs, taking her mate's face between her long fingers and brushing hair and blood away. "Matt, come on, please wake up, please please please wake up, I need you baby, I love you, please open your eyes. I love you please open your eyes baby, oh God, I need you so much, open your eyes you have to open your eyes, Mathilde, please..."

But Mathilde doesn't react. In fact, from where he stands, Evan can already tell that she's gone. It's too late. They didn't make it in time. They took too long and she's dead now. She's gone for good, and it's probably his fault, if only he was fast or strong enough to protect everyone, if only he wasn't such a coward... He draws in a shaky breath, almost collapsing on himself.

The rest of the Pack quickly land around him, the younger ones tearing at the sight of the girl crying on her mate's body. Front the back of the group, there is a sudden rustle, and Chuck jostles to get to the first line. When he sees the body, however, he starts shaking violently and drops on his knees. His wings fall flat on the ground by his sides. His eyes fill with tears.

"Mom..?" he has the tiniest strangled sob, and that's probably the most heartbreaking call Evan ever heard.

As the cub rushes to his mothers, Evan grits his teeth and closes his eyes, trying vainly to block the tears, to push the world away. Heidi must sense his sorrow because she wraps an arm around his shoulders and hugs him close, pressing his face in the crook of her neck, away from the scene. A quiet lament rises in the rows, angels and humans alike crying the loss of their fallen packmate. Zec appears behind Heidi at some point, silently, his face voie of any emotion. Evan makes a whiny sound and peels off his mom to seek comfort from his paternal figure. Zec doesn't glance back at him, but hugs Evan tight nonetheless.

When Evan looks up, however, he can see a crack in the mask : a single tear rolling down his cheek, and what looks like failure shining in his eyes.

Chapter Text

Connor wakes up with a jolt, before falling backwards with a groan. Too fast, he thinks as his head bumps slightly against the ground. He blinks a few times, trying to adjust to the weird luminosity of the place. Slowly, flashes from the Hell Night come back to him. He winces : this is absolutely not what he expected his evening to go. There is a weird weight around his throat that turns out to be a metallic collar when he brushes his fingers on it. He knows he should be currently freaking out, but he's also very aware that he's still dealing with enough sedative to knock off a horse, so one step at the time. With a grunt, he rolls on his left side to get off his wing : his damaged limb is numb, laying lifeless in his back. With his luck, it's probably broken again.

Talking about horses, it looks like he's shut in a decrepit stable, with large iron bars where the doors should be, the hay on the ground is old and moldy, and Connor doesn't know shit about equitation, but he's almost sure that the chains lying around aren't part of it.

"Hey ! Is anyone here ?!" he rasps as he crawls to the bars, trying to look outside.
"Shut up, they're gonna hear you," a voice hushes him from somewhere on his right.
"That's kind of the point," he deadpans, twisting his neck impossibly between the railing.
"Connor, is that you ?" someone else calls, the voice coming from the left.
"Phil ?" Connor squints.
"Hey buddy," the other has a breathless laugh. "You okay over there ?"
"Not really, but what did you expect ? Where is everyone else ?"
"Will you shut up ?" the first voice growls, but the two packmates ignore it royally.
"Maël is here with me. I heard Jeremy earlier, bu I think he was delirious," Phil whispers. "Oh, and they dragged Clarisse out too, because she was screaming..."
"Seriously, shut your fuck !" the other shouts, silencing Phil efficiently.
"...Jasper, is that you ?" Connor realizes suddenly, his eyes widening.
"Of course it's me, idiot. Now hush, or else they'll come again and break us into pieces."
"There has to be something we can do," Phil points out, drawing another groan from Jasper.
"Then don't speak until you have an actual idea, you moron."
"Could you guys just... not ?" Connor rolls his eyes in annoyance, regretting it as soon as it gives him a headache.
"Let it be, Con, Jasper over there is grumpy because he's by himself in his cell..."
"Yeah, well I am too and you don't hear me bitching about it," he grumbles, sitting with a huff.
"Fuck you, asshole."
"Guys, don't fight," a sleepy voice cuts Connor before he can start to be really rude.
"Rosa ?" Phil whispers with a hopeful tone.
"Hey boys, 'sup ?" she asks groggily. "Anybody knows where my dad is ?"
"He's sleeping over there," Jasper grumbles, and his hand appears in Connor's sight field to point at the stable at the end of the row. "I think Clarisse was supposed to share his cell, but... Huh."

The silence fall on the four of them. Connor passes mindlessly his hand over his shoulder, grimacing when he pulls his fingers covered in blood. Rosa sneezes a couple of times and Jasper moves around in his cell.

"Sooo..." Phil speaks up again, drawing everyone's attention. "What are your bets ? Arena, prostitution ? Guinea pigs for some important pharmaceutical laboratory ?"
"Don't fucking joke with that," Connor hisses, the hair on his arms rising.
"You're making me sick," Jasper growls, his tone uneasy.
"I'm just trying to lighten the mood !"
"Phil, could you please be kind enough not to trigger anything ?" Rosa asks gently but firmly. "I'd rather not remember a few things, if possible."
"I'm sorry," Phil chuckles hysterically, " I'm just trying to not think that we might die very soon."

Connor takes a closer look at his splinter, strengthening its ties, wincing a little when the velcro rubs against the open wound of the articulation, but he rather suffers from skin irritation than having his wing falling apart.

"You guys don't sound very worried," Phil pipes up after a second. "Are you all...?"
"Tired of your shit ?" Jasper fills in immediately.
"Resigned ?" Rosa hums.
"Too fucked up to care anymore ?" Connor adds.
"...Wow, alright then."

The angel sounds almost offended by these answers, but Connor can't bring himself to care. He has nothing against Phil, objectively : it's just that now is not the moment for cracking jokes. They are in danger, not in some vacation camp. There is a collective huff, some metallic creaking, and then the silence again. He pokes distractedly at his own body, making sure that nothing else is broken, but apart from his left cheek, everything seems okay. Alexander wakes up at some point, confused and groggy. Rosa is the first to react, trying to talk him out of his dizziness. It takes maybe another half hour before Jeremy grumbles and wakes up too. As soon as his thoughts are clear, the first thing the Alpha does is checking on his packmates frantically, scenting Phil and Maël through the bars with a little contorsion, but Maël doesn't wake up, to Phil's and Jeremy's disarray. A diffuse smell of fear crosses the stables.

Connor has stopped moving at this point, chewing on his fingers, sitting in the middle of his cage and weighting his options. He doesn't know exactly how long has passed since he first woke up, but he's positive it's been at least a couple of hours, and no human passed by during this time lapse. Which is, in his opinion, pretty strange, because who would abduct angels to let them unsupervised for so long ? Unless they're very confident in their capacity of dealing with a breakout, but again, who's ready for that ? So instead of relying on human deficiency, he takes another look around.

He counts two rows of seven boxes, separated by a dirt way, and notices a large double door at the left end of it. Rosa is in the cell directly on his left, while Jasper is two stables away on his right. Jeremy is in front of Rosa, with Phil and Maël on his right (Connor's left) and at the end of the row, right next to the door. Alex is at the other end, in Jasper's direct right diagonal. The ceiling is maybe four meters away from the ground, leaving enough space for them to stretch entirely. No windows, no way out other than the door. Connor doesn't know much about human architecture, but it probably means that they're at the end of a building. He stores the information in an angle of his head, convinced it could be useful later.

The problem is, if no one came to watch them, there must be a device for it, so he looks around more carefully. And, sure enough, there is a tiny camera near the broken ceiling light, not very different than the ones he saw pretty much everywhere in the Sanctuary. This one, though, looks too small to have a decent microphone in it, so he straightens a little and asks around. In a matter of seconds, everyone is searching, but it appears that nothing looks like one.

"Check yourself," Jeremy suddenly asks, loudly patting himself, looking for anything unusual.

Despite from the heavy collar around everyone's neck and a plastic tag with a A on Jeremy's, everyone is just fine. Connor huffs and rubs his eyes. He feels tired.

"At least we know they don't plan to make us fight..."
"What makes you think that ?" Jeremy asks.
"My wing's broken. I've seen angel combats, they heal their fighters to increase chances to win."
"Uh, good point," Rosa chirps.
"Maybe they plan to fix you later," Alex's deep voice rumbles.
"No, that's stupid," Jasper replies, "Why would they take the risk of leaving Connor wake up if it's only to knock him off again ?"
"Again, good point," Rosa hums.
"Then what ? They don't need us fully healed. Doesn't make us less in danger by any means..."
"Plus, they took Clarisse away, does it mean they need cubs and adults to be separated ?"
"I hate this, I fucking hate this..."
"Calm down, we're still alive and fine."
"Yeah, but for how long ?"
"Could you PLEASE get your shit together ?" the Alpha suddenly barks, getting silence again.

Connor rubs his eyes harder. He's so, so tired.

"We need to find a way out of here," he mutters.
"...I hope everyone else is okay," Phil agrees with a tiny voice. "Fuuuuck, what if they're not ?"
"Nonono, I'm sure they're okay," Jeremy immediately replies, searching for his Gamma's hand through the bars. "They're strong and numerous, I'm sure everyone is fine."
"What does that make us ? Weak ?" Jasper snorts from the end of the row.
"Nooo," the Alpha says indignantly. "...Just unlucky."
"Greaaaaaat," the other angel grumbles, and Connor norts a laughter because he can almost hear him roll his eyes.
"Is Maël still breathing ?" Rosa tries to change the subject.
"He is, even if barely," Phil confirms. "Someone saw what happened to him ?"
"I did," Alex says. "They got him while he was trying to climb the wall. He fell from high, it wouldn't surprise me that he hit his head..."
"Guys, we need to focus," Jeremy huffs and snaps his fingers a few times, drawing everyone's attention back on the problem at hand. "Anyone has any idea how to get out of this mess ?"
"Break the camera," Jasper and Connor reply at the same time.
"Find a way out of the cages," Rosa adds.
"Understand where we are and how we get back home," Phil completes.
"...Well shit."

Chapter Text

Zec spends the next few hours of the night taking care of Michael. For once, he asked to operate alone. He trusts himself enough to deal with the wound without too much trouble, but he doesn't want anyone conscious around him right now. A simple word could make him collapse at any moment, so he hides behind silence and operation mask. Lets his bloody hands make to work. Retreats in his mind palace. And lets nothing more hit him.

By some incredible luck, the bullet got stuck in the angel's thick plexus, without damaging any vital organ. Less luckily enough, the pression shattered the bone, sending tiny pieces floating around. So here he is, his gloves deep inside the Alpha's chest, tweezering the dangerous fragments threatening to tear into the soft flesh. There is no sound except for the pump draining the blood and the respiratory support next to the table. A deafening silence that makes his ears agonise. A void that leaves all the space to invasive thoughts. Zec doesn't fight them. He isn't strong enough. So he simply dissociates and watches himself work.

___________________________________________________________________________________

"Christine, you're good with people, can you please manage the journalists ?" Louis asks, exhaustion strong at this moment.
"On it," she replies, patting him gently on the back before running to the front door of the building, where police officers and reporters are massed.

Louis almost immediately collapses on the nearest chair, rubbing frantically his face to make the fatigue magically disappear. Of course, it doesn't work, and Louis sighs loudly, tilting his head back and bumping it gently against the wall.

"What the hell," he whispers, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Whaaaaaat the heeeeell."

Heather appears out of nowhere and sits silently next to him, her hair habitually perfect tousled and pointing in random directions, her features hardened by the sadness and the lack of sleep. She slumps a little against the back of her chair, before dropping her head between her hands and letting out a groan.

"One dead angel, five wounded, among which an Alpha in critical state, seven in state of shock, and eight still missing."

The silence following the statement is unbearable. Louis presses his eyes shut, but it doesn't stop the tears from overflow. He stares at his trembling hands and chokes a little when he tries to get some air in his lungs. He knows he's on the verge of a panic attack, or worse, a complete breakdown.

"Mathilde is gone," he gasps, fat droplets rolling slowly down his cheeks. "I can't believe she's gone. I was the one taking care of her. I won't see her ever again. I won't see her ever again," he repeats and his voice cracks. "It's unfair. It's so fucking unfair."
"Get a grip, boy," Heather says quietly, her face still buried in her hands. "She's not the only one you're in charge of."
"You don't understand. She was the first I ever saved," he replies, passing his fingers through his tangled blond hair. "She's the one that gave me the faith to follow that path. And now..."

He fixes his palms in silence, trying to follow the lines of his skin through the tears. Anything will do, really, anything that stops him from breaking completely. Next to him, the ranger peeks up from between her fingers and arches up an eyebrow.

"What do you mean ?" she asks.
"No one ever told you ?" he snorts a mirthless laugh. "I was a dropout. I wasn't invested in what I was doing. Originally I just came here to follow Zec. That guy knew from the start what he wanted to do, what he wanted to be, while I didn't. All I had was our friendship, y'know ? So when he signed up, I just... went with the current," he waves his hand in the air. "But it wasn't what I wanted to be. I mean, no one knows what they want to do at sixteen, right ?"
"Ezechiel did."
"Zec is tied to the angels' fate by his blood," Louis retorts, a bit harshly, before sighing again. "It's a strength that has been sleeping within him forever. Me, on the other hand, I grew up with it, because I grew up with him. I learned to love angels through him. That's completely different. The point is, I wasn't even trying to stay in the ranger squad. No efforts, bad attitude... I didn't really want to be there. I acted like a bitch for maybe four years before the boss got enough of me. He said that if I didn't make myself useful I was out of here."
"But then you saved Mathilde," she hums, and Louis nods slowly.
"She was in a very bad shape. Like, do you remember what Connor looked like when he arrived ?" he asks, earning a nod. "It was pretty much the same macabre show. Both her legs crushed, left hand broken, some teeth removed... It was a mess," he winces a little at the memory. "Zec wasn't there and I was the only one with basic knowledge of angel anatomy. They shoved me in the operating room, gave me a mask and a pair of gloves and said, 'go, save her'. And... I did. I saved her. Matt made it ? I needed hours to fix her, but in the end, she was breathing, her heart was beating..." his voice strangles in his throat and he draws in a sharp breath before swallowing and resuming. "It took her months to reeducate her legs, learn how to walk again and how to use her body to control her flight. And all this time, I was here with her, monitoring her recovery, watching her every single moment."

He blinks a few times, his lips pressed into a tight line. His gaze gets lost in the empty hallway in front of them for a few seconds, before falling back on Heather. She's sitting still, her chin in her hand, waiting for the end of the story. He coughs awkwardly to clear his throat and gets back to it.

"The director saw the change in me. He said that in the end, all I needed was a motivation, and that I found one in Matt. He made me her official healer. I've been Mathilde's guardian for seven years. Do you realize how long it is, in our profession ?"
"I do," Heather whispers. "It's long, it's very long."

Louis blinks again, nervously trying to chase away the tears without much success.

"I... I watched her grow up. I saw her courting Tex. I helped her give birth to Clarisse, and then Chuck. She trusted me, you know ? She never trusted anyone else, but she trusted me. She let me near her cubs and her mate, and she never got scared that I could hurt them. I don't think the idea even got past her. She... She trusted me."
"You loved her ?" Heather eventually asks.

His face crunches up, eyes filled with tears, bottom lip captured between his teeth.

"I did. I still do, in some way."

She leans on him, wrapping a arm around his shoulder in an unexpected attempt of comforting him that he doesn't seem to notice, too entangled in his memories.

"She was part of my life, and I was part of hers. It was simple. She was family. She was the reason why I call this place a home. And now I won't see her face in the morning again. It will never happen. She's gone, she's gone for good. Oh my god, she's dead," he makes an odd pained howl, sounding like a dying creature. "Heather, how am I supposed to live when she's not there anymore ?" he asks in a whisper, tears now flooding without restraint.

Speechless, she rubs his back as he's crumbling like a castle of wet sand. It takes her a few minutes to find the right words.

"Because you have no choice. Because Tex and her kids will absolutely need you in the next months. And because - don't yell at me, I only speak the truth - it's not the end of the world."

Louis, of course, makes a strangled, indignant noise. Heather shuts him with a glare.

"Listen. I know what grief feels like. You think you're falling down an abyss and watching your only light suddenly disappear. I know it hurts like hell. I know it feels like it's hopeless, like you're never gonna be whole again. And, to be honest, it's probably true, because people leave marks on your life, whether you want it or not. The people you love and the ones you don't forge your story and make you who you are. So, yes, of course it hurts. Obviously it hurts. But it hurts because it mattered."

He sniffs and closes his arms on his head, trying to mute her, but she continues, imperturbable.

"It's gonna be hard, the first few days. The first few weeks, maybe. But you're going to get through it, because you have no other choice than moving forward. Pain doesn't resist time. It can last, but it becomes dull, a simple ache in the back of your mind."
"But I don't want to forget."
"Of course not," she rolls her eyes. "I don't ask you to. Heck, I'm not asking you to drop everything and change life in order to escape your sorrow. Moving on isn't the same thing as moving forward. You don't have to get over it," she adds after a second. "Just to learn how to live with it."

Louis fixes her in disbelief. It takes him a moment to stop staring. He finds a tissue in his pocket, blows his nose a couple of times and then asks :

"Who did you lose ?"

For the first time in a long time, Heather smiles. It's not bittersweet, or pitiful, or sad. Just a regular, genuine smile. They're so rare, those ones, that Louis takes a mental picture of it. Then she gets up, patting his knee to make him follow the movement.

"This, my friend, is a story for another time. Come one now, we still have work to do."

___________________________________________________________________________________

Evan wants to go to sleep. He's feeling empty, drained of any force that remained in him until now. His first reflex is to look for Connor, but Connor isn't here anymore. The thought makes Evan's heart squeeze painfully. He'd really appreciate a hug from his friend right now. He probably needs it too.

His step heavy, he drags his feet to the next best solution, Connor's den. It should be okay, right ? It smells like him, after all. It smells like them. Familiar. Safe. But as soon as he's in front of it, he almost gags, because it smells like human, like fear and danger. He can't find in himself the force to get through it and reach the protection of their nest.

So Evan takes a few steps back and unfolds his wings, gathering enough momentum to go to his own nest, that has been neglected for the last few months. When he steps in, he has almost the same reaction than before. It's cold, bland. His own anxious scent is faded since he hardly sleeps there anymore. Worse, it doesn't even smell right anymore. It doesn't smell like Connor.

He could go to his mom's den, just under his, but what is even the point ? She's probably going to be up all night, trying her best to help the ones in need of reassurance. But who is going to help him, though, if even his mom is not there for him anymore ? Who is going to calm his panicked sobs in the middle of the night when nightmares will harass him ? Who is going to watch over him when he's too much of a mess to take care of himself ?

For the first time in a long time, Evan is alone. So he lays in his cold nest, sinks his sharp teeth in the old fabric and screams.

Chapter Text

Connor is woken up by the stabs of white pain in his wing. He stifles a cry and bites down his tongue, hard. It's the worst he's felt in months and he doesn't know how to handle it. He doesn't know what to do, so he curls up and waits. Eventually, the throbbing calms down enough for him to clear his mind. He raises his head and winces when the pain travels up to his neck, right under the collar where he can't massage it. Nice, another shitty day is starting.

Between the bars, he sees Jeremy's head jerk up his every few seconds. Connor wonders if he ever got some sleep this night. In the box next to his, Rosa is softly snoring. On his right, he can hear Jasper rummaging around. Alex, Phil an Maël don't seem to be awake.

Connor's throat feels dry. No kidding, he didn't drink since a day and half. A new wave of pain runs through him, leaving him breathless and spasming. He grunts weakly, and Jeremy hums from his cell.

"You okay ?" the Alpha asks quietly, trying not to wake the others.
"No."
"...Save your energy, you'll need it."
"Easier said than done."

Jeremy hums again under his breath and moves a bit, sitting closer to the bars and sending waves of soothing scent in his direction. Connor relaxes a little. It's weird how just the presence of an Alpha can help him through bad times. It doesn't stop him from hurting, but it makes it at least bearable.

"Thanks."

Jeremy smiles and Connor notices that he has dimples, which, cute. Reminds him of Evan when he smiles wide or laughs for real. The young angel whimpers at the thought. He misses him. He doesn't want to be there, he wants to be with his friends, with Evan, at the Sanctuary. Hell, he would even hug Zec if he walked in the room right now.

But Zec doesn't walk in to save the day once again. Instead, the door slams open and one of the men who brought them there in the first place walks in, dragging Clarisse on the ground with a metal pole hooked on her collar. Jeremy immediately jumps on his feet and growls loudly, trying to grab the man through the bars. Connor retreats warily in his cell, out of range. Jasper and Phillip screech from their respective cages, calling for the cub and showing their teeth.

A second man, the one with the weasel face, limps to Alex's cell and undo the chain rolled around the frame of the door, before stepping aside and letting his buddy push Clarisse inside. From what Connor can see, Alex doesn't move, and he realizes it's probably for the best when he glimpses at the taser dangling at the weasel's belt.

The cage is closed, the padlock's key put away, and they're out. Everyone freaks out.

"Oh shit, what the fuck !"
"Oh my god Clarisse ! Are you okay ?!"
"Is she conscious ? Is she hurt ?"
"I can't see, I can't see ! Alex, is she okay ?"
"Leave me alone !" Clarisse finally screams before bursting into anxious tears.

It takes the cub some time to stop crying, but she eventually tires herself out, helped by the large Gamma sharing her cell. Jasper whines and nervously scrapes the ground with his claws. Connor saw him do it before, and he knows it's how the older angel manages not to skin his wrists when he's stressed.

"Clarisse," Jeremy calls softly, "We need to know what happened."

A whimper escapes her as she buries herself deeper in the stall. Alex mutters words of comfort, scenting her the best he can with his one arm. Connor glances at Jeremy who blinks away tears of frustration, and sighs. Time is working against them : no food or water, and every hour passing they're a little more tired and weakened. They have to leave when then still can move, which gives them a really short time period.

Lost in his thoughts, he takes a couple of minutes to realize that his packmates are agitated again. It's Phil's frantic mutter that pulls him out of his own head.

"Oh no, oh nononono, not now, not now..."
"Phil what's going on ?" Jeremy raises his voice, a hint of stress in his scent.
"Hum, guys ?" the other replies, his voice up one octave, "Guys, we have another problem and it's urgent, fuck, not now-"
"Phil," the Alpha snaps. "What is happening ?"

There is a beat during which Phil swallows and finally says :

"Maël just went into heat."

Chapter Text

"We are so not doing that," Louis shakes his head and crosses his arms on his chest, his glare hard.
"Man, listen, it may be good for us, we will win visibility, and help, and..." Christine pleas.
"What's going on ?" Zec asks as he makes his way in their direction.

Christine's neck snaps with how fast she looks at him, and Louis' grave expression softens a little. He huffs and untangles his arms, trapping his best friend in a bone-crushing hug, soon followed by their small coworker. Zec immediately hugs them back, soaking up all the human warmth he can. He didn't realized how much he needed it until then. It's good to have friend worrying for you sometimes. Too soon, Louis pulls off, pats him gently on the shoulder and asks :

"How are you doing ? You holding on ?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm better now," he lies between his teeth, and he's glad that, if they noticed, they have the good taste of not pointing it out.
"Is Michael going to be alright ?" Christine worries, her voice breaking in the middle of the Alpha's name.
"He's still in a bad shape but he'll live, at least. So. What is the problem ?"

Louis rolls his eyes and goes back to pouting.

"Christine suggests to use our Pack as martyrs for the journalists."
"I'm not ! I'm saying that allowing medias to cover the story could be beneficial for us !"
"Alright, alright, cut it out !" Zec raises hands, ready to physically separate them. "I need more than just 'martyrs for the journalists' here. What o you mean exactly ?"

Christine literally stomps Louis' foot when he opens his mouth and answers before him :

"The local channel reporter asked if we were interested in having a couple of cameramen, two days a week, to make a series of documentaries on the angels. He said that of course they would respect our authority and act as we wish for the Pack's sake, and only ask to film the territory from the visitor's path. ...Aaaand of course eventual interviews with members of the staff to get a good idea of the work we're doing around everyday," she bats her eyelashes innocently and concludes, "So what do you think we should do ?"

Honestly ? Zec wants to go to bed.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Louis finds himself feeding the angels with Claire and Heather, two of his fellow coworkers, instead of Christine and Zec as usual. The two of them ran off to the direction an hour ago to talk about the documentary with their superior and it doesn't feel good for him. He doesn't want to put the Pack in forced contact with humans they never saw before, not when they just lived such a nightmare. He's not sure he's ready to see new faces either, to be true.

Alana is sitting quietly by his feet, the top of her head bumping slightly against his elbow as he keeps his plastic trail out of range of the cubs. She doesn't speak, for once, and keeps rubbing herself on his scrubs. He hands her a piece of apple, but she only sniffs it a couple of times before looking away. That's not good, Louis thinks : if they refuse to eat, it'll soon turn into a real problem. As he looks around, he realizes that the rest of the angels are acting the same. Among the rare angels who bothered to reunite, no one is really eating : the older ones pick at their fruits, halfheartedly chewing on it, while the cubs seem completely disinterested from any form of nutriment. They don't even look up when Claire sets the rabbits free. It kind of breaks his heart.

"We have to do something, or else they'll languish to death," he tells Heather, who nods.
"We need Heidi," she decides and abandons her own trail on the grass to go get the Beta, but no one makes a move to snatch another piece of food.

Louis can't do much but stand here, almost force-feedings his angels, and grooming the ones he's in charge of. Alana's lost gaze gets a little bit more alive when he starts brushing his fingers through her fluff, getting rid of the twigs and fallen feathers. Soon, Tex and Chuck come closer, not quite within easy reach but close enough for him to get that they need attention. Alana eventually flies away and Chuck immediately takes her place, climbing on his ranger's lap like an over sized cat. Texeira simply sits on the ground next to him, picking nervously at her blue hair. They both look exhausted, the rim of their eyes crimson from too many tears and their wings spasming a few times.

Tex starts crying silently and curls up against his side, her arms tightening around her middle as she hugs herself. Louis can't do anything about mental health. He'd like to alleviate the pain, for real, but he's nowhere as qualified as Christine for this? He doesn't speak enochian. He can't do shit even if he really wants to. All he can do is taking care of them, hoping it would help them find their way back to happiness. So he takes his time with them, passing long minutes simply smoothing their hair and feathers, massaging their backs and talking to them. He doesn't say anything important, he's not even sure they understand what he's saying, but who cares ? Right now he's here, with them, and that's all that really matters.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Heather eventually comes back with Heidi, who looks kind of tousled and on the verge of a nervous breakdown, if it wasn't for the glint of determination in her eyes. As soon as she takes in the sad picture that her packmates offer, she frowns and barks a low sound, making jump everyone. With her hands on her hips, she looks like a mom who just found her kids stealing the entire cookie jar. She clicks and whistles a moment in enochian, and half of the angels laying on the ground exchange a worried look before jumping on their feet and flying away.

The bunch of cubs hanging around gather around her, attentive and buzzing with unexpected energy. As soon as the Beta finishes her speech, Tora and her brother make their way towards the nest wall, looking methodically in every cave and ushering the hiding angels out of their nests, among which Evan, who looks like a walking corpse, and Jared, his reddened eyes violently standing out in the middle of his pale face. The two of them immediately stick together, walking down the path to the meadow where everyone else is. They wave at their caretakers before sitting silently at the edge of the group, but Louis doesn't miss the way their clawed hands clutch at each other desperately.

Alana comes back down from her tree with Leandro, sitting not far away from her friends, and focuses on the Beta, who's still talking. Of course, none of the humans have any idea of what's being said, but when Heidi seems done, half of the Pack - well, half of the half, he reminds himself sorely - gets up and starts cleaning the broken wall, which has been patched up hastily with a few planks. The staff isn't scared that they'd try to run away, at this point, but one or two daredevil might try to run after their missing mate and the Cheberith's rangers really can't afford losing another one.

Back to the situation at hand, the bigger angels - aka Leandro, Caleb, Roman and Nora - work together to put away the large chunks of concrete and metallic stems, while the smaller ones - Chuck, Lisa, Sean and Yuri - pick up the pieces of plaster to dump them in the bathroom space, behind the nest wall. The rest of them, or at least the ones Tora and Lewis managed to get out of their den, walk around armed with soaked pieces of fabric, ready to erase any trace of blood. The last ones, among which Evan and Jared, climb back into the nests to clean them from fallen feathers and soiled hay. Heather already picked up a shovel and puts dirt back where the truck dug holes in the ground. Louis and Claire decide to go get some scent annihilator and spay the entrances of the lower dens, erasing any proof of human presence there, expect their own. They don't get too close, of course, but they do it thoroughly, cleaning every little nook in the concrete of the wall.

By the time they're done, Christine and Zec are back and ready to help. Christine immediately goes to Heidi to talk to her while Zec walks to his best friend with a tired smile.

"How did it go ?" Louis asks, more for form than by real interest.
"He said he'd think about it, but that it clearly won't happen before we get everyone back, anyway, so..." he trails off, grabbing one of the sprays and mounting it on a long pipe to clean inside the nests.

Louis huffs deeply and rubs his eyebrow in annoyance.

"Whatever I say won't talk you out of this, am I wrong ?"
"Listen, Lou, I know where you're getting from, I really do," Zec huffs in turn, but it's more lassitude than anything. "But it can be good for us. We'll be in control the whole time. We'll be the ones deciding how long they're allowed to record. They won't even get close to our protegees if we don't want them to. I don't know what to tell you. I don't see the problem as long as we're in control."

The blonde man looks at him over his shoulder. The last few hours gave the ranger ten years, and he wouldn't be surprised if he saw his air turning grey sooner than later.

"I know it's off topic and that I asked earlier, but... Zeche, you okay ?"

The other looks at him dead in the eye for a long moment, in silence, before his head drops and his hands cling a little tighter on the spray.

"I'm scared, I think. Tired and sad, but mostly scared. What if we don't find them ? What do we do, then ? And the rest of the Pack, what will they do ? Just wait around for God knows how long, waiting for them to return ?"
"Okay, no, you can't just say that," Louis frowns and sticks his fists on his hips, not unlike Heidi earlier. "If you give up hope, everyone else will break down. I don't care if you're tired man, I am too. We all are. It's awful of me to say that but you have to hang on for us, because right now no one is even close to be strong enough to get through this without you."
"Don't tell me what I'm allowed to feel."
"Like Hell I won't ! We need you, dude, you don't get it ? I know it's super selfish of me to ask you that but..!"
"No !" Zec suddenly snaps, his hand violently banging against the wall. "You don't get to tell me how to to feel, you don't get to tell me what to do, you don't get to teach me how to deal with this fucking mess and I certainly don't need your opinion on how to cope with my world crumbling right under my eyes !"
"Oh yeah ? Well you don't get to be mad at me for trying to keep danger away from our Pack !" Louis shoots back. "You have no fucking idea of what I just lived-"
"I don't have a fucking idea ? Are you- are you kidding me right now ? Are-you-fucking-kidding-me-right-now ?" he hammers every word with his fist, leaving a smear of red on the grey stone. "I lost nearly thirty angels since I got here. I saw dozens of my kind getting slaughtered because they were angels. I just witnessed the work of a life being destroyed by shitheads who think they're better than everyone. I am haunted by the ghosts of the ones I couldn't save. And you, what did you do so far ? Oh right, you lost one angel. One fucking angel. Congratulations, bro, you just entered the big league."
"Fuck you," Louis mutters, before bumping harshly into the other man and making his way to the exist without another word.

Zec stands here, his mind empty now that he poured everything on his poor best friend that didn't deserve it. He glances down at his knuckles, distantly wondering if it will scar, when a hand lands on his shoulder. Evan is standing there wordlessly, Jared a few meters behind him. Both of them share a distraught and spent look, and he realizes he must have the exact same face right now. Zec closes his eyes and sighs, feeling deeply, utterly done with the world. Evan simply hugs him, quickly followed by the young Alpha. The three of them stand here, in front of what was Connor's den at one point, but doesn't smell anything like it anymore.

Chapter Text

Connor pants quietly in his cell. Between the pangs of pain in his broken limb and the waves of heat-induced arousal coming from Maël, his brain is kind of producing opposite signals.

"Phil, I swear, if you touch a single hair from his head, I'm gonna rip your throat off," Jasper's growl deepens, his claws scratching nervously the ground near the bars.
"I-I know but- he smells so good, you have no idea, what-"
"Phil, no," Alex's voice rumbles from the back of the room.

The other Gamma whines desperately and flaps his wings in order to disperse the appealing smell, only to make it fill the entire barn. Connor shifts nervously, chewing on his bottom lip. In the cell next to his, Rosa lets out a desperate cry and her hands shoot through the bars and tend forwards, trying to reach the unfortunate angel.

"Fuck off, Phil !" Jasper barks from the shadows. "Stay the fuck away from him !"
"Phil, you have to get a grip on yourself," Jeremy echoes, his hand searching blindly for his fellow angel, the latter gripping it with more force than necessary.

Connor's throat feels even drier when the enticing smell hits him right in the face. He has to admit, the passed out Beta smells incredibly good. He growls at himself and sinks in the wet straw in the corner of his space. Clarisse's sobs reach his ears as well as Phil's and Rosa's whimpering. Jasper smells deeply frustrated and a bit panicked, probably from the fact that he can't help with how far he's confined.

"I will kill you if you touch him without his consent," the Gamma threatens uselessly, his voice turning mildly hysteric.
"Phil, it's okay, it's gonna be okay," their young Alpha whispers, his tone offsetting Jasper's. "Don't let go of me, alright ? Focus on something else."
"Rosa, you have to calm down, baby," Alex calls quietly. "Stay back."

The young female lets out a frustrated sob but she listens to her father and hides in the dark of her cell. The scent is driving everyone half-mad and Connor doesn't know how long he will resist it before becoming an hormonal mess like his left neighbor. He slowly bangs his head against the stone wall, no hard enough to hurt himself but sufficient to keep his mind clear. His hair absorb most of the shock whenever his skull meets the porous wall, reducing it to a fine powder that flies everywhere, and mostly in his lungs.

Fuck his life.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Hours pass uninterrupted, only punctuated by Phil's desperate moans and Clarisse's quiet crying, until a human opens the large door. This one is one they haven't seen before, except maybe for the cub if her distressed screams are anything to go by. It's an old man in white scrubs, similar to what the Cheberith rangers usually wear. Connor's eye is caught by the cold glimpse of the metallic pole the other one was using to push Clarisse in her cage. He warily erases his presence, hiding himself in the shadows.

The human approaches Phil's and Maël's cell, promptly ignoring the first who's still holding onto the Alpha's hand to focus on the knocked out angel. It takes him maybe two seconds to fix the pole on Maël's collar and drag him out, careless of his wings snagging against the door. Connor winces when he hears a tiny snap, but the door is already closing behind the two of them. After a few moments of silence, they start moving around again nervously.

"Where is he taking him ?"
"I... I don't know, Jasper," Jeremy whispers. "I really don't know."
"Do you think they'll hurt him ?" Phil asks, sounding unsure. "He's in heat, he can't fight back..."

Jeremy sighs and squeezes his Beta's hand. Connor would cry if he wasn't so short on bodily fluids. Rosa inspires shakily, sounding like she's breathing for the first time in ages, and it's probably the case.

"I know where they take him," a small voice raises eventually.

It's Clarisse, who's still safely hidden in Alex's arms. She shakes herself a little and pulls away to sit close to the central corridor. From where he sits, Connor can see that she looks tired and kind of dead inside. It's not a good look to put on a cub.

"They put him in the white place next," she says, her hands fidgeting at high speed. "And they wait to see if he behave. If he do, he get water and food. He not, they hurt."
"But he's unconscious," Jasper points out, his tone way nicer now that he's talking to a cub.
"They wake him," Clarisse shakes her head in protest. "If he fall asleep, they wake him. They let him out if he behave."

And with that, she's back to hide in the older angel's embrace, her mouth shut no matter how much Jeremy begs her to explain. Alex finally announces that she's asleep, making the other huff in annoyance. Jeremy is worried about his hurt Beta, and it shows. Now that he doesn't have to hold on Phil, his hands are running down his arms and his sides, scratching convulsively every spot of skin they can reach. Jasper is pacing again. Rosa is quiet. Phil is hiding away.

The human come back way quicker than expected, this time accompanied by the weasel with the taser, pulling Maël back into his cell. The angel looks somehow better, his skin less flushed and his scent lighter. They then turn back to look directly at him, and he knows he's fucked. On his right, Rosa shifts, her tension tangible. Jasper growls menacingly, but a hit against his bars suffice to shut him down. From behind the men, Alex and Clarisse come closer, and the cubs locks eyes with him, mouthing "behave" exaggeratedly twice, making sure he gets it.

So Connor lets them take him. He doesn't protest when the pole clips with his collar, he doesn't fight when they pull him out of the hay nest. He doesn't even cry when his wing falls at an odd angle, lacking the ground's support to keep the pressure off his articulation. He doesn't look behind. He's not going to give them the pleasure of seing him suffering.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Connor doesn't know why he's surprised when he walks into a white room filled with medical equipment. He's not sure what he expected, but clearly it wasn't this. The pole fixed at his collar is tied to a hook in the ceiling, and he has to stay on his toes not to strangle himself. He's tall, but not enough to avoid discomfort. Before he left, the weasel put some weird handcuffs on him that cover his entire forearms, even with what lasts from his cast. He can barely move his fingers in these.

The old human is toying around a table, searching for something in the mess of instruments. He finally comes back to Connor and pushes his glasses back on his nose, as if he's taking a better look at him. Connor, of course, glares back. Unimpressed, the man puts on a pair of rubber gloves and grabs his face. He pulls on his eyelids, opening them wide, and grabs a little stick from the pocket of his white coat. The blinding light coming from it makes the angel tears up since he can't blink, but the offending light goes away as soon as it came. The same thing happens to his other eye, before the human seems to have enough and definitely puts the stick back where it belongs.

The taste of the gloves is not something Connor appreciates, so he makes a major effort not to bite off the fingers poking around in his mouth. The man presses his digits where a few teeth are missing, courtesy of Connor's first owner, and gives a light shake to his canines, as if making sure they're still well rooted. He's honestly quite proud of how patient he is with the man. His mouth is finally free, and the man disappears behind him.

The old man unties Connor's robe next, rolling it down around his waist to have a better look at him. Thumbs are pressed on each side of his vertebrae all the way down his pelvic bones. He shivers a little when his right wing is brushed, which doesn't go unnoticed. The man makes his way back in front of him and asks something. If Connor didn't hear Zec ask the exact same thing a week before, he would only have frown in confusion, but instead he shakes his head and carefully tries to hold up his broken wing. When the limb threatens to give up on him, he lets it flop against his back lifelessly, exhausted by the simple effort. The man frowns and tugs at the contention sleeve, at the blood stained straps and at the cast. Takes it off. Cleans the skin of the wing in a few expert wipes, before bandaging it carefully.

Connor starts to feel weariness growing in him, making his muscles hurt with the effort he deploys to stay put, but better aching tights than strangled throat. The man is now looking at his hands, making a grimace when he sees the lack of claws. He grabs a paper a scribbles a quick note on it before coming back to him. The cuffs are taken away and at least he can now rolls his shoulders. It's still a win.

He continues by poking at his scars, still pink and fresh, that streak his right side from his shoulder to down his legs. Connor hopes that the old man won't go look more down than that, but bad luck, it's exactly what happens. He doesn't have any sense of bashfulness at this point, but it's still a pretty uncomfortable situation. He has to use all his will not to kick the human away from his crotch.

By the end of the medical examination his entire body is shaking from exhaustion. He's grabbing the collar so hard that his knuckles are white and he can feel sweat dripping down his skin. The bar is suddenly detached from the hook and he topples over, landing on his knees and hands. The man only throws his clothes in his direction and turns his back at him, writing something in a notebook.
Connor is so out of it he takes him a moment to understand that his own hand is extending toward the table to grab the nearest thing. Nearest thing that happens to be a short scalpel of some sort and that Connor tangles in his robe, out of sight, and scrambles back on his feet. His entire legs are twitching unpleasantly. As the old human finishes to copy his notes, the weasel comes in and slots the bar back into his collar, tugging him sharply out of the room.

Connor takes a deep breath and follows.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

"Okay, so they're definitely selling us," he huffs once they put him back in his cage.

Jeremy's head perks up from the straw he's been cutting in pieces. Phil pulls himself up from the ground, Maël lying close to his legs now for some reason. Rosa and Jasper ruffles closer to the walls they share with Connor. Alex alone walks up to the bars of his cage, Clarisse probably still sleeping.

"They patch us up. I guess they only hit if we move too much. They want to keep the merchandise as clean as possible," he ironises.
"It only confirms what we thought," Jasper audibly rolls his eyes. "What happened out there ?"
"We need more details," Jeremy adds softly.

He's trying not to push Connor too much, which is appreciable given how unpleasant the whole experience has been. So he sits more comfortably, tilting his hurt wing against the friable wall to relieve the weight from it, and starts to explain.

Chapter Text

Jared not talking is a very bizarre experience to witness. During the two days they sleep together, the young Alpha doesn't speak once. It's kind of worrying Evan, so the first thing he does is telling his mom.

Heidi, fortunately, has managed to get some sleep during the week and doesn't look like she's about to collapse at any moment. When she sees her son flying to her, his expression worried, she only smiles and takes him to a stroll in the grove. The light hits the ground in shiny puddles, reflecting on the browning leaves and dry grass. It's objectively beautiful, and very much inappropriate. It's almost like the world keeps turning without noticing their pain. The thought makes Evan dizzy and he hates it.

"Soooo... You wanted something ?" she finally asks as she crouches to pick a stick off the ground.
"It's J-Jared, Mom. He's being weird."
"How so ?"
"He doesn't talk. A-at all."

Her lips press sadly into a hard line.

"Put yourself in his place. Both his parents are... I mean, Michael is stable, according to Christine, but still. Jeremy..." She sighs and shakes her head. "It must be hard for him."
"I-I... I hear him cry at night," Evan admits, "When he thinks I'm sleeping. It t-takes him a few hours to calm down." He shudders and hugs himself tightly. "I wanna help. I... I want my best friend back."

She sighs again and looks up, like the answers she's looking for are dangling from the dome.

"You can't do anything, honey. All you can do is be here for him when he'll need you, listen to him when he's ready to talk again.You can't force him to get better, wounds like that take long to heal."

Evan blinks a couple of times. Nods. Heidi nudges him gently with her stick.

"What about you, Evan ? How are you feeling ?"
"D-do you want the honest answer or the optimistic one ?"
"I'm your mom. Of course I want you to be honest."

He exhales. Feels like the air has been trapped in his lungs for too longs.

"I feel empty," he frowns and looks at his hands, wondering why they suddenly look so strange. "I feel like half o-of me has been ripped away. It's like... It's like a phantom limb syndrome, y-y'know ?"

Evan huffs in frustration and sits on the ground, carefully folding his large wings behind his back.

"But I'm fine, I mean ! I should be f-fine, right ? I'm not... hurt or anything. I have no- I have no reason to feel like this ! I should be fine !" he groans, visibly annoyed with himself, before a shadow passes in his gaze and he closes his eyes. "...Mom, why am I not fine ?"

Heidi says nothing, but she knows. She sees the ache in her son's eyes. She sees the way his hands shake. She sees what has been happening with Connor since he first met the Pack. She's the Beta, how could she not notice all the little hints ?

But she says nothing, because she also can see that Evan is still dense about the whole thing, and it's not her place to tell him. She knows she could break everything that has been building by trying to rush through. She could destroy the fragile balance they needed months to equilibrate. It's not up to her anymore. Evan is a full grown angel, a young Omega, soon to be Gamma again. No matter how hard she wants to protect him from the world, no matter how strong her instinct yells at her to grab her child and hide, she says nothing.

She says nothing, because she knows the feeling of missing a mate. And she knows Evan doesn't realize yet. So instead, she hugs him, she squishes her little boy in her arms as tight as she dares and she doesn't let go of him.

"What is wrong with me ?" he whimpers under his breath in the crook of her neck, his hands gripping desperately at the fabric of her overalls.
"Oh, baby, no. No, there is nothing wrong with you. You're fine, you're just under a lot of pressure. All of us are," she adds as she combs his hair with her claws. "It's gonna be okay. We will need time, and faith, but our Pack will be whole again and we will be alright, I promise."

Evan breaks away from their embrace, his eyes shining with worry and pain.

"But what if we don't ?"

Heidi opens her mouth to reply, but she's interrupted by the noise of someone vomiting.

___________________________________________________________________________________

"Do you, like... Plan on stabbing one of them, or something ?"

Connor contemplates the sharp objet in his hand, moving it around to catch the light. He's not worried about the camera since he's been hiding in the darkest corner of his cage, bu he keeps glancing at it anyway. Paranoia is hard to kill.

"Dunno. Maybe," he huffs as he pockets the scalpel again. "Hey, did you know that human blood is actually thicker than ours ? Like if you hurt one of them, the blood will come out slower."
"Dude, that's gross."

There is a beat during which neither him nor Jasper talk. Connor bumps his head against the wall again, winning a rain of plaster in his feathers.

"Fuck," he grumbles, and he twirls around to keep the powder out of his bandages. "Hey, how long do you think Maël's suppressants will last ?"

He hears Jasper shift a bit before answering :

"A few hours ? A day ? I don't know. It's been a while already."

Connor hums distantly and brushes his hands on his robe, before going back to the small blade and scratching it tentatively on the wall. A big chunk of it dislodges immediately.

"How comes you didn't react like Rosa and Phil by the way ?" Jasper asks again, his tone less bored and more... intimate.
"I could ask you the same thing," he grumbles, glad that his packmate can't see his cheeks burning.
"...Connor, seriously ? I've been mated to Fergus for two years."
"Wait, for real ?" Connor straightens a little. "I didn't know."
"Of course you didn't, you've spent most of your time hiding in your nest like a coward."

The is not real fire behind these words but the wounded angel can't help but feel a little bit vexed.

"In my defense, you fuckers were too numerous for me to deal with all at once."
"Fair enough."

The door opens, revealing Phil, Rosa and Jeremy followed closely by the weasel, the man in white and one of the other guys. Jeremy's bottom lip is split, but otherwise they look fine. In the cell at the end of the row, Alexander and Clarisse stir from their nap and glance carefully through the bars. Phil, being in the closest cell, is pushed in first. As soon as he's inside, he drops on his knees and scents Maël conscientiously, despite the latter still not being awake.
Rosa is next and she squawks indignantly when the doctor pushes her in the hay, as if he had a bone to pick with her, specifically. Jeremy, finally, is reconducted to his cell and released from the metallic bar. All along, he doesn't break eye contact with the weasel, which must be pretty terrifying from a human point of view - after all, Jeremy is towering above everyone else, his angry smell strong enough for even humans to pick up.

Connor expects their jailers to get out as soon as they're done, but for once they linger a bit. They talk to each other, ignoring the rest of their auditory like they're part of the decor. Jeremy licks nervously the blood, still looking intensely at the guy. Eventually, the third man gets out for a couple of minutes, before coming back charged with...

"Is that... Is that water ?!" Rosa squeaks.
"I smell food," Phil adds immediately, nose up in the air.
"Careful guys," Jeremy growls. "They might be tricking us."

The weasel and the doc make their way out of the room chatting while the third man pushes the trolley with great difficulty. For the first time, Connor gets a good look at him : small, even for a human, with greasy blonde curls sticking on his head. He's young, to say the least, maybe younger than Connor. He smells like stress and fatigue and his hands shake when he grabs the plastic glasses to put water in them. He almost drops the first one and apologizes profusely in the void, before setting the cup on the ground in front of Rosa's cell and backing up quickly. Rosa, following Jeremy's instructions, sniffs suspiciously, eventually taking it away.

Meanwhile, the boy gives water to everyone, even giving Clarisse another cup when she accidentally spills hers. Connor frowns. There is something wrong with this kid and he can't put his finger on it. Until it tilts in his head. Fingers, he realizes. The kid has claws.

He jumps on his feet with a roar and slams himself against the bars. It hurts, but he doesn't care. He's mad.

"Son of a bitch !! I'm gonna rip your fucking face off !"
"Connor, what the fuck ?!" Jeremy yells, and between the two of them the kid looks distressed, shuffling to the back of the room and away from the angry angel thrusting against the cell.
"He's a traitor ! He's one of us, for fuck sake, he's one of us and he's helping them !"
"What ?!"

Immediately Alex slams against the bars too, his only arm trying to reach out for the man -angel ?- who yelps and ducks. Jasper somehow lands a punch on his back, getting a cry out of him. The kid curls up in a ball, away from any of them, and lets out a panicked sob.

With all the ruckus, of course, the rest of the humans come back to see what's happening. Phil gets tazed, and Connor has to jump away from the bars to avoid the pole to crush his fingers. They gather everything, from the cups to the boy still shaking, and leave the room without a word. It takes the angels a few moments to process through what just happened.

"An angel working for angel traffickers," Jeremy sighs as he licks his lip again. "Yep, sounds about right."
"He had no wings, did he ?" Phil asks, his voice rough from the electric shock.
"And he was super small," Alex adds quietly.
"A Nephilim ?" Rosa proposes. "But I never heard of a Nephilim without wings."
"They ripped them off," Jasper intervenes with a shiver. "When I punched him. There where two stubs in his back. It's... erk. I don't want to think about it."
"He look like the bad man," Clarisse points out out of the blue, drawing everyone's attention.

There is a second of silence that Phil eventually breaks.

"Do you think..."
"I know for a fact that angelic whores are very appreciated," Connor mutters, feeling the blood leave his face and his fingers. "It wouldn't surprise me if that was what happened."

Then he laughs, making Rosa jump.

"What is so funny ?" she grumbles.
"Fuck, he might be a literal son a bitch," he breathes hardly between two hiccups.

Jasper sniggers and Phil snorts.

"Oh my God," Jeremy sighs and facepalms.

Connor finds his breath, as do the rest of them. They're still grateful for the water they got to drink, no matter how scarce it was. It's still better than dying from dehydration.

"We still need to find a way out," Rosa thinks out loud, not talking to anyone specifically.

Connor looks at the scalpel, then at the hole in the wall, then at the scalpel again.

"Uh," he says, because an idea is forming in his foggy mind. "I might have one."

Chapter Text

Honestly, Zec feels awful for letting his anger poison his relationship with Louis. Miserable, even. He's been horrible and it's up to him to fix the mess they find themselves into. He has to make it right. Or, at least, that's what he repeats to himself as he makes his way to the camera room.

He's surprised to find Christine in it, monitoring the feeds while Zec knows perfectly well that it's supposed to be Louis' shift - he is the one who made the planning, dammit.

"Chris ? What are you doing here ?"

She jumps, clearly clueless that he had appeared behind her at some point, before sighing in relief when she recognizes him.

"Oh, Zec. Hey. Hum, Louis asked me to take his shift at the last minute because he had something important to do ?"

At how the sentence is turned into a question, she's clearly wondering if there is going to be consequences. Zec huffs and rubs his neck. This isn't going as planned. He hates when things don't go as planned.

"Did he tell you where he was going ?"

He face lits up for a second, before a smug look settles on her traits. She grins, crossing her arms on her chest :

"You're going to apologize ?"
"I'll... Well, yeah. Or try at the very least. He didn't deserve any of it."
"True. No offense but acted like an ass," she chuckles before standing up and patting him gently on the shoulder.
"None taken," he rolls his eyes playfully. "I'm lucky Heather didn't yell at me already."
"Oh, about that..." Christine pales suddenly. "She was going with him when he left. Do you have any idea of what they could be doing ?"

Zec feels the blood icing in his veins.

"Louis and Heather together ? Alone, and trying to be sneaky ?"

Christine has a weird spasm.

"Yeah, no, that's definitely not good."
"You tell me," he grunts and leaves the room.
"Wait !" she calls behind him. "Call me when you know what they're up to, alright ? I'm worried about them."
"Sure thing," he replies. "Keep an eye on the kids, will ya ?"
"Aye aye Captain," she smiles and salutes him before closing the door behind her.

It's going to be harder than he thought, because if Louis doesn't want to be found, he won't. That's why Zec has to force things a little if he wants to get a grip on the situation, so he takes his phone and scrolls down the repertory. It's been a while since he called her, but hopefully she won't mind too much. The tone rings a couple of times before she finally picks up.

"Hey Tia," he purrs, trying his best to sound disinterested.
"Hello, dear brother of mine," she grunts, sounding as harsh as ever. "Nice of you to remember that I exist."

Aaaand she's definitely pissed. Oh well.

"I need your help, actually."
"You always do," she replies and cracks her knuckles. "Tell me everything."

___________________________________________________________________________________

They don't take them out of their cells anymore. The man in white came back twice, checking on Maël and glaring at Rosa, before not even bothering to show up anymore. The Nephilim, though, comes back the next day, and the day after, always bringing food and water. If he flinches every time one of the angels moves in their cell, he stays quiet and runs away as soon as he's done. Connor wonders if he's forced to come in here.

Maël's suppressants have been renewed, to everyone's relief, but mostly to Phil's. Jeremy's lip is healing nicely. Connor's wing doesn't hurt as much as it used to, even if it keeps radiating heat and a sharp pang of pain hits him every now and then. They don't believe in these illusions, obviously : they have no idea why their kidnappers are taking care of them, but it doesn't predict anything good.

Connor keeps scratching the wall with his scalpel, widening a hole roughly to the dimension of an angel. He's still not reaching the other side, but if the progressive chillness of the wall is anything to go by, he's not far from the outside. He's working fast, barely stopping to drink or brush the powder away.
The rest of his packmates are growing restless. It's been barely a week since they've been first brought in there, and they're really starting to feel cramped in such small spaces. Clarisse asks why there are ants in her wings. Alex tries to explain her about the blood trying to get though her folded wings, but fails miserably. Jeremy paces relentlessly in his own cage, precise like a clock. Jasper is being annoying.

"But hear me out," he repeats. "Even if you somehow make your way out of this, how are we supposed to follow you in there ?"
"Have you tried clawing your way through the wall ?" Connor grumbles, still focused on not stabbing his own hand.
"Yes, Connor, we tried," Jeremy replies faster than Jasper, avoiding another confrontation. "It's all metal on this side."
"And rocks over there," Rosa adds. "I'll break my fingers if I try to dig in it."
"Great," he huffs. "And we still have the camera on."
"And the other idiot checking on us every now and then," Phil says. "Hey, maybe we can use him as an hostage or something ? Like, I'm pretty sure Jasper can slit his throat without blinking."
"Oh, fuck you, man."
"It's a compliment !"
"Calm down," Jeremy growls, but it's more by reflex than anything.
"Anyway," Alex sighs, mechanically grooming the sleepy cub on his lap. "I don't think it would be an option. They cut his wings, remember ? The must not care much for his safety."

The whole group shivers at the thought.

"Can you even imagine being wingless ?" Phil whispers.
"God, yes Phil, we can imagine, thank you very much !"
"Jasper, keep it down !" the Alphas hisses, anger hitting the rest of them in waves and making Jasper recoil.
"Sorry."
"Dad has a point, though," Rosa mumbles under her breath. "If we can't use him as leverage, we need to find something else."

___________________________________________________________________________________

Mario Rossi is a patient man. He has waited eight years in jail before breaking out, so he can sit still for a few more hours before the big sale. Unfortunately, it's not the case of his bastard of a son, who's currently walking back and forth in the small space between the camera feed and the table, testing his patience. Seated next to him, Doctor Alles glances over his book pointedly, a quiet reproach in his eyes. Rossi sighs and slaps his magazine on the table, startling the kid.

"Ezra," he warns, not needing more than this to convey how much he's tired of his son.
"Sorry," the latter squeaks, stilling immediately.
"Make yourself useful and go get some coffee."

The Nephilim nervously flees out of the room, the peace coming back. Until the Doc turns a page and says :

"Such a waste, man. I could learn so much if only you let me have it my way."
"We already talked about that," the trafficker snaps. "No dissection."
"Such a waste," the other man teasingly repeats as he goes back to his book.
"No. Dissection," Rossi hammers, his tone low and dangerous.
"Fine, fine. Just saying," he adds, glancing quickly at the door. "You're not selling Ezra, though. It could be useful to me instead of serving coffee and standing around like an absolute moron. Maybe I could-"
"No."

Alles sighs dramatically but doesn't add anything. Rossi goes back to his magazine. A few minutes later, the door opens on Trevor, who drops silently his backpack on the floor and takes the last seat at the table. His limping is barely noticeable anymore.

"Everything in order ?" the other man asks distractedly, flipping a page.
"Affirmative. The perimeter is safe. I left two of my men outside the building, one at the door and another one in the chickens' corridor."
"Chickens ?" Alles asks without even looking up.
"Angels," Trevor corrects automatically. "Whatever."
"So it's all set for tonight ?" Rossi asks again.
"Sir yessir. But if you ask me-"
"I didn't ask you."
"... If you ask me, it would be safer to keep them in their cages for the presentation. Leaving them in the outside like this might give them a chance to get away."

For a second, Trevor wonders if his boss is going to behead him for talking back to him, but Rossi's face remains oddly blank.

"All of our men will be pointing a gun at their heads," he declares. "If they try anything they're dead. They're just angels. They're not faster than a bullet."
"Oh, so when I'm the one who wants to use one of them for scientific purpose, it's stupid and economically inabordable, but when it's one of your little soldiers..."

He's cut by Trevor's knife, embedded in the wood of the table, two centimeters away from his hand.

"Watch your mouth, Doctor."
"Gentlemen, gentlemen," Rossi calls. "No need to eviscerate each other now. After tonight we can go on our own way without stepping on each other anymore."
"I'm tired of babysitting the chickens," Trevor agrees. "They're noisy and they stink."
"What did you expect ?" That's how they communicate," Dr Alles snorts, eyes still on the knife. "It's not like they can help it."
"Still. Fuck 'em."
"I believe that our clients are in the same mood," Rossi laughs under his breath.
"Ew," Alles and Trevor wince at the same time, none of them into angels.

The door opens again, revealing Ezra with a trail of coffee cups shaking slightly in his hands.

"About goddamn time !" Rossi exclaims. "What took you so long ?"
"I-I heard Mr Trevor in the hallway so I came back to make him some coffee too," the Nephilim explains, pushing the cups on the table.
"Great," the doctor grumbles. "I guess ours must be cold by now."

Then Ezra stumbles, falling half on Trevor half on the table, the coffee flying across the room and landing on the monitor.

"Shit !"

Trevor elbows him out of the way and tries to dab away the beverage from the computer, but it's already too late : the screen flickers and shuts down with a blip.

"You idiot !" the mercenary shouts, turning to the Nephilim, who's shaking with his whole body. "Do you have any idea of what you just did ?!"

Ezra shies away in the corner of the room, bracing himself for the kick. He shouts and falls against the wall the the combat boot meets his ribs in a sickening crack. Out of breath, he struggles to get back on his feet, but another pair of shoes land in front of his eyes. He looks up, meeting those eyes that are so similar to his, but are so radically different. Those eyes are cold and calculating. There is no humanity behind them. Sometimes, Ezra thinks that he's probably the more human out of the two.

Rossi stays there in silence for a very long second, before kicking him in the face without a warning. The Nephilim lets out a cry and hits the wall a second time. When he opens his eyes again, his father is already back at the table, legs crossed, his attention fully on his magazine. Like he didn't just broke his son's nose. Like there is no thick blood covering the tip of his right shoe.

Ezra pushes himself up on his legs, shaking more than ever, and shows himself out. The door closes in silence. Trevor is still fulminating on the computer, picking up one of the cups with still enough coffee in it. Rossi seems to have forgotten the world around him. Alles examines his nails.

"Fucking weirdo," the mercenary grumbles as he gulps his coffee. "Cold, obviously."
"Do you think he heard any of what we said ?" Alles asks, sounding almost bored.
"If he did, he's too dumb to make anything out of it," Rossi states, his eyes fixing the page he left a few moments before. "Now hush, I want to finish this."

What none of them notice is the fact that Trevor's keys, the ones that open the cells, are not on his belt anymore. What they don't notice either is that said keys are now in Ezra's fist, and that the boy is running down the halls like his life depends on it. And maybe it does, if anything he heard before is true. Maybe tonight is the only chance he has to escape this nightmare.

Chapter Text

"Where is everyone ?" Claire asks, annoyance clear in her voice as she's feeding the bunch of angels that bothered to show up so late at night.
"Do you mean the Pack ?" Christine asks disctractly, even if she's well aware that it's not what her coworker means.

The other girl glares and flicks her long hair over her shoulder. Behind her, Tora lays on the grass and follows the movement, eyes narrowing.

"Of course not. I mean the others. Heather. Zec. Louis. Where are they ?"

Christine makes a non-committal noise and hands over another piece of carrot to Jared, who's leaning against Evan's side and hiding under his feathers. He looks up at her, huffs quietly and makes a tired movement to catch the vegetable without energy. Against him, Evan lets out a sigh of relief when he actually pops it in his mouth. Christine smiles to the two of them, before turning back to Claire.

"Dunno, don't care. What I care about, on the other hand, is whether or not I'll be paid for assuming their shift."

Claire barks a laugh and kneels on the ground, trying to gently untie Tora from her stupidly long hair. Then Chuck and Tex come out of the wood where they've been hiding all day and plane closer, landing so close to Christine that she actually feels the fluff of their wings in her face. Chuck immediately claims food, ready to stuff him face with soft apple and orange quarters, while his mother simply drops on the ground and curls up in a ball, her wings hugging her close. The two rangers exchange a worried look.

Evan looks up from his half-eaten fish and sniffs the air, making enough noise for every other angel to do the same. Jared frowns, his head snapping in Tex's direction a millisecond before everyone else.

"Am I missing something ?" Claire asks, Tora wiggling in her arms like an overexcited monkey.

Christine shrugs in incomprehension, stepping closer to Tex. The angel looks at her warily, like she's worried the young woman could hurt her if she gets too close.

"It's okay," Christine says, holding her hands where they can be seen, just like Zec taught her. "I just want to make sure you're okay."

Tex's growl becomes audible, but her wings open a little. Christine shuffles closer and makes a point of not showing her nervousness. Tex is not an angel she learned to work with in the first place, being only a ranger since a few months. As she finally comes closer, she realizes how bad Tex is looking : her wings are shivering, her skin is so pale it's almost translucent, her eyes are almost invisible between her frown and the heavy bags under them, and worst of all, her teeth are clacking so violently the ranger wonders if they can break.

"Hey," she hums, gently stroking the baby blue feathers, "It's okay. It's okay."

It's clearly the wrong thing to say. Tears fill the angel's eyes and her wings tightens around her body like a soft armor. Chuck whines, Jared shakes his head in defeat and Evan looks deeply pained. He starts rambling as soon as Christine is looking his way.

"Evan," she calls, walking away from Tex to crouch in front of him, talking half in enochian and compensating with sign language when her throat can't make the right sound, "I can't understand you when you talk so fast. What's up ?"

Behind her, Claire grumbles "I have no idea what the fuck you're saying right now". Jared, still hidden under Evan's wing, rolls his eyes so hard Christine fears he might actually get stuck, but says nothing. Evan takes a deep breath and repeats, trying his best to separate the words from each other :

"Tex. This morning. She... she was vomiting. Mom said that she was sick."

Tex snarks violently, daring Evan to say one more thing. Bravely, the Beta's son ignore her and tells the whole thing. When he's done, Jared makes a few soft clicks than Christine can't decipher, but with how muffled he is by all the feathers, it's a miracle she even heard that.

"What did he say ?" she asks to Evan, the latter shrugging in silence.

In the meantime, Claire got closer to Tex and is currently taking her pulse. how she managed to get her arm out of the ruffled wings is a mystery.

"Her heartbeat is high," she sighs, a worried frown plastered on her face. "Higher than what it's supposed to be, anyway."
"Medbay ?" Christine asks, even tho she already knows the answer.
"I'll open her door," the other says and gets through the sas, already getting rid of her ranger clothes.

As soon as she's gone, Chuck steals the plastic trail and runs away with it, Tora close on his heels. At least one of them is active, Christine sourly thinks as she gets back to Tex to convince her to go back to her den. Evan looks them walk away, with Jared still secured in his hold.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

As soon as Tia hacked Louis' GPS, Zec does a thing he never thought he would : he lets an angel out of the Sanctuary. He could be fired for this, but he really can't care less at the moment.

So there they are, Zec driving the tiniest utility car they have into the night, with a two-meters-and-half angel clinging on the roof like a gigantic bird of prey trying to lift a rabbit. He's not even worried that she might fly away ; after all, why would she ? He's trying to find someone who's probably in trouble, and she knows it. Of course she knows it, she's the Beta after all, and so is he : that's probably why she's following him without thinking it twice. He drives safely, taking a turn when Heidi's clawed hand taps slightly against the window. Her sense of smell is, of course, way more developed than his and is the one reason hwy they're not lost in the woods yet. Not matter how precise Tia has been, he's pretty sure he would be completely lost by now if it had been only him. So, good thing that the other Beta is willing to follow him.

Heidi taps again on the glass, pulling him out of his own head rather harshly. He looks around, trying to spot a bifurcation and frowns when he doesn't see one. He slows down, opens his window and twists his neck to look outside. Heidi's face meets him halfway, worry shining in her eyes.

"What is it, girl ? What am I missing ?"

She signs quickly, too quickly in fact for him to understand, and frowns when he's staring at her blankly. The car stops for good, she hops on the ground and pulls on the door's handle. Zec gets out as quickly as he can, all entangled with his belt and the keys that he is, but she's already crossing the road, climbing the nearest tree, and he has to follow or else he's gonna loose her trace. He picks up speeds and follows her in the forest, away from the last piece of civilisation, melting the two of them in the night like simple shadows. Like the predators their species was long, long time ago. So Zec, for once, stops asking and just follows.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Connor smells the blood before he sees it.

He looks up from the hole he's been digging for the past two days and sniffs the air. In front of him, Jeremy frowns and stands in his cell, his entire body tense from the offensive smell.

"Is any of you hurt ?" Alex asks then, and Connor knows that the blood must be abundant for even the one angel at the end of the row can smell it.
"Not us," Phil growls and steps closer to the bars of his own cell. "It's coming from outside the room."

All of them are now on their feet, twisting their necks impossibly to glance at the door, nervous apprehension cracking in the air, stillness falling on them.

The smell becomes stronger, as if it's coming their way.

And it is.

The door slams open, and the Nephilim enters the room, out of breath, red smeared from his nose and mouth and spilling on his shirt. In his hand, a piece of metal catches the light. As soon as he has enough air in his lungs to stand straight, he stumbles to the nearest cage and fidgets with the lock, his movements more and more hysterical when he can't seem to fit the key into it. Phil is the one to react : he closes his hands on the kid's, steadying the tremor and clasping them against the cold metal. The Nephilim startles, eyes filled of terror as he looks up to this tall, dark-haired angel towering over him and that somehow hasn't ripped his arms off yet.

Phil's eyes are soft and his hands guiding : soon the other is steady enough to put the key where it belongs and turn it. The door opens. Connor blinks. Rosa shifts nervously. Jeremy is still tense like a bow, waiting for the trick. But there is no trick. Instead, the kid pushes the key into Phil's hand and steps back toward the main door, determined to keep an eye on the corridor.

The whole room buzzes with activity once again : Phil opens the cages one after the other while Rosa rushes to get Maël on his feet and Connor gets so impatient that, instead of digging, he presses himself against the wall and starts pushing. The clay is giving way under the enormous pressure of the full-grown angel forcing his way through. As soon as they're out, Alex and Jeremy imitate him, placing themselves on each side, well intended on breaking down the wall.

At the door, the Nephilim suddenly squeaks in panic, shooting a glance at the rest of them from above his shoulder. Clarisse is the fastest to react : she gathers a couple of chains laying around and pushes past him to shut the door, starting to tangle them around the handles.

In the back of the room, Phil takes Maël back from Rosa, allowing her to join the effort of taking it down, quickly followed by Jasper. The wall cracks louder. Connor rises on his feet, gives it the last shock it needed to finally break and the five of them fall onward. The cold air rushes inside, slamming with force against them. Clarisse runs over immediately, helping Alex as he can't really push himself up with only one arm. Jeremy grunts, sore from the harsh fall, but gets back on his feet immediately to help his Gammas up. The Nephilim shivers and his claws close on his light shirt, but Connor soon realizes that it's not only cold that makes him shake : the fear in his eyes is as clear as day, glancing indecisive between the locked door and the open wall. Connor has to make a conscious effort to stop himself from gruntings and walks over the kid. The latter jumps a little when Connor's left wing falls over his hunched shoulders like a fuzzy, bony blanket.

"Don't stand there like a dumbass," he growls. "You'll get killed if you don't come with us."

The grey eyes that meet his are filled with gratefulness, even though the words probably don't mean anything to someone who doesn't talk enochian. The point is, the kid scoots a little closer, lets his hands get a little loser on his clothes and follows the movement when Connor walks back to the group. Jasper frowns when he notices them coming closer.

"You're taking him with us ?" he huffs and crosses his arms defensively, as if the mere idea is threatening him.
"Shut up. If he stays, he's dead meat."
"Con," Jasper sighs, exasperated, "It could compromise our escape. He's not one of us."
"He's not one of them either," the wounded angel snaps, making the kid under his wing jolt. "Besides, he's can't be more of a dead weight than me or Maël."
"He's not Pack !"
"We're not leaving him behind !"
"He will only cause us problems !"
"Oh my fucking God, Jasper-!"
"Connor is right," Rosa intervenes before Connor can physically express his disagreement, flapping her wings happily after a week of being closed in. "Even if he's not Pack, he's still in danger here. I dunno about you, Jasp," she says as she flips her white hair back with a dangerously determinate look on her face, "but I'm tired of having people's blood on my hands."
"When you're done chatting, maybe we could get the hell out of here," Jeremy calls, an hysterical edge in his tone. "We're not out of danger yet."
"I second that," Phil nervously agrees as he shifts under Maël's weight.

Jasper growls out at him but starts walking anyway. Connor finally has a second to take in where they are : under his bare feet, the rare grass is dry, crushing unpleasantly loud under his steps, the chilling wind of mid-september is passing through his too thin robe. In the distance, behind a tall fence, he sees trees, lots of trees, and that's exactly where Jeremy's running to, trying to avoid the splotches of lights coming from spotlights perched high on the fence. The Nephilim shakes harder under his wing and mumbles something that he, obviously, doesn't catch.

"Stay quiet," he hisses instead, " and follow me."

They crouch behind Alex and Clarisse, analyzing their next move. Connor sees the puddle of light traveling between their hiding and the pile of dirt, ten meters away, and he sees the two humans sitting at the corner of the house, unaware of eight angels and one Nephilim slipping past them, directed to their freedom. The woods look so far, almost unreachable, and yet. Connor knows it : they'll make it, they'll get away from this hell of a place, away from these humans who think they can control them, and back home. Back to the rest of the Pack, right where they belong. He thinks about Evan and the thought makes his heart flutter.

The path clears from any light, allowing Alex and the cub make a leap for it, crossing the ten meters in a second and joining Jeremy where he's hiding. Far ahead, Connor sees Rosa leading the way, followed closely by Jasper. Phil and Maël are not far behind, making progress as quickly as Phil manages. Connor glances at his partner of misfortune, who's looking up at him expectantly, waiting for... waiting for an order.

"Listen," he says under his breath, trying to make his tone clear enough for his lack of linguistic common ground, "We run over there. You stop when I tell you. Once we're in the trees, we're safe."

The kid frowns, looks between him and the trees and rubs pensively his hand under his broken nose, leaving blood all across his arm and even more on his face, but he doesn't seem to care, or even notice. When his gaze is back on Connor, he nods slowly, with the face of someone putting the pieces of a puzzle together.

A new wave of cold air rushes past them and they both shiver before the light disappears and they jump forward, hands and feet hammering the ground as they reach the next spot. There are three other steps after that, Jasper already reaching the one before the last one with Rosa still close.
And maybe it's the focus he has on his objective. Maybe it's the adrenaline drumming down his spine and in his ears. Maybe it's just the fact that he can feel himself already free - free from the cell, free from the low building, free from humans. Or maybe it's a combination of all of it.

The fact is that he doesn't hear the door giving way in the barn ; he doesn't hear the angry shouts of men already on their tail ; all he hears is the alarmed shriek of his Alpha and the sudden whistle of a bullets that come too close, way too close to him. He ducks immediately, landing hard on the ground and taking the Nephilim down with him. Somewhere above them, Jeremy roars and jumps over them, onto the nearest man, pining him on the ground. Connor lifts his wing a little, just enough for the kid to get away, and pushes him as hard as he can before rolling on his back, blocking instinctively the fist he knew was coming his way.

A sharp growl rises from his throat and he pushes against the pressure of the other body, shifting the two of them on the ground. Under him, he recognizes the man as the limping one. Rage raises in his chest, red and ugly and burning like lava. He snaps forward, aiming for the throat, but the soldier's reflexes are quicker than him as he blocks the angel's mouth with his hand, his other already taking momentum for another punch.
Connor bites down onto the digits in his mouth : he feels the snaps of bones breaking between his teeth, tastes the rush of iron on his tongue, hears the yell of pure pain from his enemy. No, not his enemy : his prey.
The next hit doesn't miss him.

___________________________________________________________________________________

They roll again in the dry grass, unaware of gunshots and fights around them. Trevor knows it's only a matter of time until he's out powered by the chicken, and the thought makes his skin crawl in disgust. He hits it in the head, hard enough to make it open his jaw and spit the three phalanges on the ground. Trevor doesn't take a second to look at them : right now, he has better to do than cry about lost fingers. He's been trained to ignore the pain, he knows he can take it. But he still has to end the confrontation quickly, or else he will pass out from the loss of blood.

The angel finds its footing again and its neck snaps with how quick he looks back at him, taking barely a second to jump on him again, teeth bared and droplets of blood - his blood - escaping its mouth as it lets out a deafening roar.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Connor can feel the burst of energy through his veins like actual fire. The whole world is red, dulled by the rage he bottled up for so long. He ducks again when the man tries to hit him once again, dropping on all four before coming back up just as quickly, his good wing flapping hard enough to put him back upright. The throat and the head, he has to hit there, he has to make him strop moving. Hit him until he's dead.

___________________________________________________________________________________

The vertical pupils of the angel shine with pure anger under the light of the moon.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Fear makes its way on the face of his target when he gets ready to hit.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Trevor realizes two things.

First, he underestimated angels. They all did. If one of them, badly hurt on top of it, can take him to the ground in less than a minute when he's been trained all his life, they did the last error of their lives. He cocks his gun in prevision from the impact.

Second, as the casted arm raises in the air, ready to fall on him like a sword of Damocles, he knows than he's probably going to die if he doesn't dodge.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Connor hits with all his weight.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Trevor shoots. When it doesn't even slow it down, he pushes instinctively his arms in front of his face, but it doesn't stop his skull from cracking under the pressure.

___________________________________________________________________________________

The sickening sound of bone grinding against bone is all Connor needs to get out of the weird transe he's been in. Under him, the limping one doesn't move, the side of his head weirdly hollow. His cast is completely broken, barely holding on around his wrist. He jolts backward, away from what he just did, and breaks shakily the white stone remaining, trying to get the blood stains away from his hand.

His throat and the back of his mouth fill with acid and he barely manages to stay on his feet as the world moves on its own around him. The smell of blood becomes too much and suddenly he's throwing up, coughing and wheezing as he tries to get his breath back between two strangled sobs.
His ears eventually stop buzzing and he distantly notices that there is no more fighting around him. In the distance, sounding probably more far away than they really are, another group of humans is shouting and coming in their direction.

Jeremy appears out of nowhere, a nasty cut along his hairline dripping blood in his eyes and bruises coloring his knuckles.

"Come on," he rasps and pulls Connor back on his feet. "We don't have a lot of time."

Connor swallows back a whimper - and some more bile - before following his Alpha, who's leading him back to the rest of the group. Pain climbs his numb arm up to his shoulder, consequences on breaking a cast that wasn't meant to be removed yet ; tiredness settles in every muscle of his body and he has to make a conscious effort to put a foot in front of the other. He kind of wants to fall on the ground and forget everything.

At the base of the fence, Rosa and Phil have their hands covered in their own blood from ripping appart the wire, but soon enough there is a hole large enough for even Alex to pass without too much trouble. Connor stumbles forwards, no longer in control of his legs. Before he hits the ground, however, Jasper and, more surprisingly, the Nephilim, are here to catch him and hastily pushing him past the fence, under the cover of the trees.

His memories are confused after that : he remembers vaguely Jasper carrying him, telling something about a bullet in Connor's leg ; he remembers the light catching on Jeremy's white feathers, almost blinding him ; he remembers the kid muttering by his side as they all run in the forest, the wounded and small ones being carried by the others ; he remembers losing focus for a moment, he doesn't know how long - it could be seconds as well as hours.

But most of all, he remembers being laid down on the crunchy leaves as a known face leans above him. He closes his eyes with Heather's voice ringing in his ears, her tone sharp and worried.

Chapter Text

"What the fuck is happening here ?" Zec breathes as he takes in the scene.

Heather and Louis freeze to look at him, surrounded by all the missing angels and a random, shivering kid. Heather shakes her head first and resumes her activity, unfolding a thermal blanket that she puts around Clarisse's shoulders. Sitting on the ground, Jasper, Rosa and Jeremy are lined up, fresh bandages covering what looks like cuts and bruises.

Louis sighs in relief and throws Zec a first aid kit.

"I'm so glad you're here right now," he says, pointing at Connor lying on the dried leaves.

The ranger immediately drops on his knees next to him, evaluating the damages. The left side of his face is swollen and bruised, his cheekbone probably fractured, his wounded wing twisted at an awkward angle, his thigh displaying a gunshot and his right arm free from his cast for some reason. Whatever happened, it's not good.

Heidi passes next to him and makes a beeline for Maël and Phil, the conscious one tightly wrapped around the other. Decided to focus on what's more urgent, Zec patches up the wound on Connor's thigh and smiles a little when the angel groans and blinks, coming back to himself.

"Hey bud," he says, pushing aside the brown locks entangled across the pale face. "How are you feeling ?"

Connor only groans louder and his eyes roll dangerously back in his skull but his hand finds Zec's sleeve and doesn't let go.

"Alright, alright," the ranger huffs as he pulls him to sit. "Do you feel good enough to walk ?"

He signs walking as he talks, hoping that Connor can make it out, and he does indeed : Connor nods weakly as he's helped on his feet. After a couple of wobbling steps, he eventually manages to stand straight, despite half of his weight still resting on Zec. He wheezes painfully, a hand pressed against his side.

"Lou," he calls, "did you come with the truck ?"

Louis glances at him from over his shoulder, before going back to Alex's examination.

"Yeah, two minutes from here, right down the path."

Zec turns around to look at the path, a tiny line of rocks and pebbles disappearing in the dark forest. Here goes nothing.

"Come on, let's go."

Connor hums weakly on his shoulder, his head lolling back and forth. Zec holds him all the way to the van, afraid that he might slip and hurt himself even more. The vehicle eventually comes into view and Zec drops his feathered burden in the back, on one of the mattresses. Connor looks like he's about to collapse, so he pats him gently on his good cheek, earning an annoyed snarl.

"Hey, don't pass out on me now. You gotta stay awake, alright ? I need you to keep your eyes open, can you do that ?"

He's afraid that the angel might have a concussion and fall asleep when he can't be cared for. Connor bumps his head against the wall of the van, producing a loud bonk and wincing, but at least he's still awake. Zec sighs and grabs an oxygen mask dangling from the ceiling, pressing it on the angel's face. The latter doesn't even react when he actions it, but he looks up at the ranger wordlessly.

This is probably the first way Connor seems genuinely happy to see the ranger, and he can't take enough of this hope burning deep in those heterochromatic eyes.

"You'll be alright," Zec promises. "I'll take you home."

Connor blinks once and curls up into a ball in the back of the vehicle, breath now deep and steady. Zec glances one last time at him before jumping out and walking back to the rest of the group. He meets Louis on the way, evacuating Maël with Phil's help, and waves at Heather who supplies an infinite amount of blankets with Rosa's help.

Heidi is helping too, in her own way, scenting everyone thoroughly and conscientiously. Jeremy is following her around like a lost cub and if Zec didn't know any better he would have sworn she was the Alpha one. He turns his attention to the shivering kid with the bloody nose dripping everywhere. He is still standing in periphery of the group, eyeing warily Heather as she cares for Clarisse's butchered knees. Zec walks up to him, making sure that he's visible from afar so he doesn't startle him.

"Hi," he greets, and the kid stares at him, instinctively tightening the blanket around his shoulders.
"H-hi."

As sharp teeth appear under his upper lip, Zec immediately understands the nature of the kid. He kneels so he is at eye level with him.

"I'm Zec," he says, "I'm a ranger from the Cheberith Sanctuary. I take care of angels. These," he points at Jeremy and the rest of the group, "are members of my Pack."

The kid nods in understanding and seems to relax a bit.

"What is you name ?"
"I'm Ezra. I, uh, I'm not sure I have a last name."
"It's okay," Zec smiles. "Where do you come from, Ezra ?"

Ezra has a breathless laugh as he passes a hand through his dirty hair, his mouth taking a sour fold.

"My father... He steels angels. I'm supposed to take care of them until he can sell them. But I- I couldn't do it. They would have been hurt."
"So you freed them ?"
"No, not really. I... They freed themselves, I just bought them some time," he mumbles, his small claws digging dangerously in his skin. "But the tall one didn't want to let me there."

After a second of hesitation, he adds :

"I'm glad he did. I would have been hurt too."

Zec stays silent for a moment before unfolding and holding a hand out for him.

"If I tell you we have a place where you could sleep and eat and be safe, what would you say ?"

The kid frowns, looking between Zec and his hand.

"I'd ask where is the catch."
"There is no catch, Ezra. You could be safe and happy."
"For real ?"
"For real."
"...Okay."
"But first, we need to take care of your nose, alright ?"

As he takes the hand, Ezra realizes it's the first time someone offers to help him. He kind of likes it.

___________________________________________________________________________________

"Do we have everyone ?" Heather asks for the seventh time.
"Yes," Zec replies, packing what remains of the aid kit. "Heidi, care to confirm ?"

In the back of the truck, Heidi's head rises over Phil's wing as she thumbs up.

"We're ready to go. Ezra, you okay over there ?"

As if he understood that, Connor glares at him from behind his oxygen mask and tightens his wing around the Nephilim, who yawns. Oh well, looks like Ezra already found a guardian.

"Yes sir," he mumbles, blinking slowly, nervousness fading into exhaustion.
"Alright. We'll try to drive smoothly so we don't shake you too much, but we might need to accelerate if things turn bad once we're out of the forest." He turns to Jeremy and adds : "If you feel like it's going too fast, hit the walls."

The Alpha nods sleepily and Zec eventually closes the truck, climbing into the cabin. Louis is already behind the wheel, ready to go, and Heather scoots away to let some space for him. The first minutes of drive are quiet, air buzzing with the fear of seeing someone appear on the road to stop them. Heather is the first one to talk.

"Zec, you took a car to come here, correct ?"
"Hmm."
"I'll take it," her tone admitting no refusal. "You two talk this out."

Louis bristles and Zec winces, forcing himself to focus back on the road so he doesn't meet anyone's, eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Louis says blankly, though his joints whiten around the wheel.
"This, right there," Heather waves between the two of them, her irritation almost tangible. "You have to clear this bullshit before it starts rubbing off on work."

The next ten minutes are no better. He wonders if this is what Hell is supposed to be : being blocked in a small space with someone who wants to have nothing to do with him. Eventually, the car comes into view and Heather slips wordlessly out of the middle seat, forcing Zec to get down himself to let her out. She signs "I'm watching you" as she climbs in the unlocked car and he sighs in defeat.

"So," Louis rumbles as soon as he's back in the cabin of the truck.

Zec shoots him a confused look, at which he replies with a shrug.

"We might as well get down with this if we don't want her to kick both our asses once we're back."
"True," Zec nods and exhales. "Look, I'm sorry, man. I lost it and... Fuck, it wasn't fair to you. I wasn't fair to you. I know what it is to mourn an angel. I shouldn't have lashed out on you."
"To be honest, I wasn't kind to you either."
"But it doesn't make it alright. Matt was important to you and I should have been there for you instead of taking it personally."
"I- I mean I treated you like you were new at this, and you were stressed, and tired, and..."
"It doesn't make it okay towards you. If anything it makes my reaction even more disproportionate. I'm sorry, Louis. I haven't been more sorry in my life."

The other glances at him before pulling a face and letting out a wet laugh.

"You're making me cry, you asshole."

And just like that, they know they're good. Not perfect, not just like it used to be, but at least okay.

Chapter Text

Hi. Just a head up : I'm gonna take a break for a while. I'm starting university again in a few days and I need some time to get back in a good rythm. And also, I'm not happy with what I'm currently writing, so I have to understand why I hate what I write and how to fix it. And, yeah, not feeling the absolute best right now, so it sureley doesn't help. Anyway. See you in a few weeks ?

Chapter Text

The Sanctuary comes into view in the early hours of the day. As soon as they pass the gate, Christine almost launches herself under the wheels of the van.

"Where were you ?!" she asks, not even giving Louis the time to get out of the cabin.
"Just looking for something we lost," he winks, joining Zec who's already opening the back, revealing their unusual load.

Christine gasps, but nobody is here to share her amazement as the tree missing rangers -Heather appeared at some indeterminate point- are already helping the wounded angels out of it. Heidi is the first to jump out, helping Phil with Maël's dead weight. One by one, the giant creatures climb down, taking in their surroundings with surprise and, for most of them, infinite relief.

"I'm taking Maël, Connor and Jeremy to the infirmary," Zec calls, before adding, "Ezra, you're coming with me too."

Christine makes an inquisitive sound at the new name as Heidi scents the Nephilim carefully one last time, shooting Zec a warning glance, one of the kind that says this is my child now, don't you dare hurting him. Welp.

"Why Jeremy, though ?" Heather asks. "The rest of the Pack will want to see the Alpha."
"Michael needs him first."

She hums in agreement and closes the trunk. Louis has his arms full of Clarisse as he makes slowly his way to the territory's main door, followed by the rest of the angels. Zec is about to take off for the hospital with his own group when Christine reappears in his sight.

"Wait, I forgot to tell you ! We put Tex in one of the white rooms this evening."
"Tex ?" Zec frowns. "She's hurt ?"

The small woman shakes her head with a sigh.

"We don't know yet. The laboratory is still doing the analysis, but my guess is that she took her grieving to a whole new level."
"Fuck," he murmurs and clicks his tongue. "She's still eating ? Drinking ?"
"Barely," Christine grimaces. "Evan told me she vomited this morning."
"Alright. Okay, tell Louis about it, and tell him to take care of Chuck while Tex is out of commission. We'll check on her tomorrow... Uh, I mean, in a few hours."

Christine hums and runs after Louis. Next to Zec, Connor whines softly and shifts his weight off his wounded thigh. Jeremy glances at him and rumbles lowly, trying to comfort his Omega. Ezra shivers, his blanket doing nothing against the crisp air of the night.

"Come on boys," Zec calls, helping the Alpha to carry Maël. "Time to patch you up and send you back in the arena."

The infirmary being too small for three angels, a Nephilim and a full grown human, their second choice is the largest room of the hospital wing, where a bunch of clean nests are lying on the ground among medical tech.

Once he's made sure that Maël won't choke on his tongue in his sleep, Zec shows Ezra the sink where he can clean his face with warm water, then stitches up Jeremy's face, allowing the Alpha in his mate's recovery room, which ends with a two-meters-and-half-tall angel sprinting down the hallway, and soon happy cries fill the building. Zec tunes them out as he focuses on Connor.

The angel... isn't looking good. His breathing is laborious again, his cheek needs some ice on it, his leg has to be taken care of but they still need to take the bullet out and the wing is a complete mess. He doesn't know if he'll be able to save it. At least Connor isn't fighting him as he usually does, so there is that.

"Hey."

Zec looks up to the door, from where Heather and Louis are watching him.

"Hey guys."
"How is it looking ?" she asks, pulling her hair into a ponytail.
"Bad, to be honest. His wing might be fucked for good."
"Even with surgery ?"
"I don't know. If we mess up with the articulation it might never work again."

Louis chews on his lip for a moment before taking off the door frame.

"I have a call to do. See you later."
"...Alright, bye ?" Zec calls, but Louis is already out of sight.

There is a moment of silence, during which there is a quiet sneeze from the nest where Ezra is lying under five blankets. Heather pulls distractedly at one of her blond locks, picking out dry angelic blood.

"Did you talk this out ?" she finally asks, breaking the tension.
"Eeeeh, kinda ? I mean at least we agreed on the fact that I was a dick to him, so... There's that."

She scoffs and turns around, gathering a bunch of sanitized wipes.

"Anyway," she mutters with a roll of her eyes, "I'm going to talk to the boss first thing in the morning. Someone has to tell him about this whole... angel rescue."
"I can do it-"
"No. You have to take care of them. I'll deal with the repercussions."
"You don't have to do this, Heather."

Another eye roll.

"Please. You know no one is able to say no to me."
"Fair," he snorts. "But don't get yourself fired because of it."
"Go back to your feathered babies," she hammers as she leaves the room.

Zec shakes his head with a smile and gets back to work. Eventually, the painkillers he gave to Connor are starting to make effect and he can move onto the next angel. Maël, despite being completely out of it, doesn't look hurt. Zec notices a couple of after-heat symptoms and puts him under fluids, but other than that, the small angel is just asleep.

Ezra sneezes again. Zec sits near the nest with a huff and gently passes a hand on the kid's forehead.

"Dude, you're boiling," he mutters, and the Nephilim glances at him. "Does anything hurt ?"
"You mean, besides my knees and hands and stomach that are scraped ?" Ezra exhales. "My back is hurting again."
"Your back ?"

The kid sits up, pushing the covers away, and pulls his shirt over his head. Zec feels his guts churning. On his shoulder-blades, where his wings should have been, there are only two large stumps with a nasty dark scar across each one. The skin is red and irritated and the scars are pretty sick-looking. The ranger makes a physical effort not to cringe and grabs a handful of tissues to dab away the pus and blood dripping down Ezra's back. This is so, so wrong. What happened in this poor boy's life ?

"I don't want to scare you or anything, but there's a good chance that you caught an infection."
"Is that bad ?" Ezra visibly pales.
"It could be. I don't know how serious it is, though. For now we'll put you under antibiotics and see how it goes. If it doesn't get any better we'll have to find something else."

The Nephilim nods thoughtfully.

"Anything else is painful right now ?"
"Just my back and the scratches."
"Good. Get rid of your shirt and follow me, I'll disinfect you."

Ezra stands up carefully, a shiver shaking him whole as he walks to the nearest table.

"Just sit there with your back towards me. Can you take off your shorts ?"
"But I- I don't have anything under."

Zec glances at him as he picks up the disinfectant but replies with missing a beat :

"Alright, then rolls the legs up as high as you can. I got everything. It might sting a little though."

The kid nods again and barely winces as Zec presses the cotton ball against the gashes in his back, then to the knees, tibias, palms and elbows. After a couple of minutes, the skin is clean, even if still pretty red.

"This will do for now," Zec hums and walks around the table. "Are you feeling good enough for a full check-up or do you wan to go take a shower and go to sleep ?"
"Do we have to ?" Ezra asks reluctantly.
"You'll have to get through it sooner or later, you know."

The kid squirms a little on his seat, visibly uncomfortable. Zec bents his legs to get to his eye level.

"Hey Ezra, what's up ?"

The kid looks away and claws into the table, leaving tiny marks on the metal of the table.

"I don't like check-ups very much," he eventually murmurs. "It hurts a lot."
"What ? No, it shouldn't hurt... I just want to make sure your teeth and back and muscles and everything are good. Why should it hurt ?"
"I- I dunno ! It just does !" he cries, lowering his tone as soon as Connor groans in the back of the room. "Like, with the needles and stuff, and- I just-"
"Hey, hey, it's okay, deep breaths. I have no idea what you're talking about, but I don't need needles to examine you, okay ? It's completely non-intrusive."

Ezra huffs and gulps loudly, before asking :

"For real ?"
"For real."

Zec smiles at him and brushes his hair out of his face. For the next twenty minutes, he examines him thoroughly, from head to toes, making sure that his teeth are good, his claws are strong and his eyes are working correctly. When Ezra is clearly struggling to stay awake, Zec glances at the time and is almost not surprised to see that it's six in the morning, so he leaves the room for a moment, coming back with a cub sized overall, a sweatshirt and a pair of underwear and socks. He then shows Ezra the staff's the bathroom attached to the staff rest room, where the Nephilim spends twenty good minutes cleaning himself, almost falling asleep in the shower, before coming back. At this point Zec knows he isn't going to get any sleep, so he might as well watch over them. When it turns out that Ezra never used a nest before, the ranger decides to steal a bed from the rest room and bring it over.

"You know, I could have just slept over there," Ezra says, his hands twisting nervously.
"Not really," Zec replies as he adds the kid's cover on top of the bed, "It wasn't sanitized, and I don't want you to catch anything more than you already have."

Ezra eventually climbs in bed and falls asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow. Zec stays next to him for a few minutes, making sure he's settled, before checking on Connor again and then on Maël.

What he doesn't understand is why the latter isn't just waking up. The few tests Zec ran show that the angel is fine, physically, but he simply doesn't wake up. He really doesn't know what to do. Claire and Jesus eventually show up to take over, so he wanders down the halls to the white rooms. Through the first door's clapper, he sees the two Alphas fast asleep on the bedding, hugging as close as physically possible : Michael is resting on top of Jeremy, with their hands linked and legs tangled together. The large bandage across Mike's chest is painful to look at, so he tears his eyes away and makes his way to Tex. The older angel is awake, pacing quietly in her room, her blue wings shaking from a spasm from time to time.

"Hey girl," he coos, catch her attention. "I heard you didn't feel good."

Tex hisses and runs in the corner, her wings hugged tight around her.

"Shhh, it's all good," he whispers. "Have you eaten yet ? Do you need some water ?"

As he gets no response, he decides that she's good enough for now and finally walks all the way to the entry lock, stripping down and putting on the rangers' green scrubs, before checking carefully the medications of the day. Once he has everything he needs in a plastic box, he opens the door and walks into the Sanctuary.

The morning sun blinds him for a second, and then he sees.

All the Pack is here, laying on the sun, surrounding the ones that disappeared. Alex and Rosalia are buried under their family members. Lisa, Caleb and their cubs are puppy-piling all over Phil, while Fergus is actively petting Jasper and doesn't seem ready to let go of him ever. Heidi is talking in a hushed voice to Jared and Evan, both of their faces wet with tears of relief as they hug each other. Somewhere in the middle of all of this, Louis is grooming Clarisse, with Chuck sleeping on his lap.

If it wasn't for the Alphas, the three last hurt angels back inside and the two last missing ones, the Pack would be complete. Someday, Zec remembers himself. Someday it will be whole again.

Chapter Text

To be honest, it's the first time Evan sees Jared cry so much, and it's pretty unsettling. He knows he's a crying mess himself, but it's unusual to see the normally tough and carefree young Alpha being so emotional. But again, Jared just learned that both his parents were back and okay, so it's understandable. After all, Heidi has been missing for only one night and Evan was already on the verge of a breakdown.

As Jared is being consoled by the Beta, Evan takes a step back and dries his cheeks, looking at the rest of the group. He notices a few rangers checking on the freshly returned angels, and then his eyes narrow on Zec, giving vitamins and painkillers to the cubs.

As he rubs away the last traces of his crying session, he realizes that the anxiety tightening in his chest is nowhere near fading. There are still four pack members missing, and one of them... He shudders, his wings vibrating with the force of it. He wants to see Connor so badly. He wants to see him, touch him, make sure he's alive and well. He leaps forwards, crossing the distance between him and Zec in a matter of seconds. The ranger smiles at him, brushing his hair aside.

"Hey there," he says, in that tone that makes Evan want to beg for a hug. "How are you doing, man ?"

Evan straightens on his legs and... Uh. He's taller that Zec. When did that happen ?

"I guess you wanna see your friend, don't you ?" Zec asks again, not noticing the thought striking the young angel. "He'll have to get some surgery, but he'll be awake by the end of the day.

Evan blinks rapidly, stopping any tear from spilling again. Okay, so Connor is alive, at least. He doesn't like the idea of surgery, but if it means he's going to be alright, he can live with the mental picture of the other angel on the operating table.

"I can make you sneak in his room tonight, if you want," Zec continues. "He's probably fed up with us caretakers anyway."

Evan nods and sits, his anxiety appeased for the time being, and enjoys the warm sun of November on his wings. Alana joins him soon after, looking tired but content, and before he notices it the whole Pack is puppy piling around him, entire families laying on the ground with unmated angels, Omegas and Gammas all mixed together, the last caring for the first. Jared is nowhere to be found, but according to Heidi his den's door was open so he could go to see his parents. Evan is glad at least one of them can make sure they are okay.

It's only a matter of time until the pull in his chest can ease.

___________________________________________________________________________________

"Glad to see you alive, dear fathers of mine."

Michael's head shoots up toward the door, where Jared is leaning too casually, his mouth stretched in a lazy smile, but everything from his reddened eyes to the tension of his posture sells out his stress.

"Jared !" Jeremy yelps a second after, jumping on his feet and scrambling to the door to hug him.

Michael stifles a laugh and props himself against the wall.

"Hug me too, hug me too !" he calls playfully, waving at his mate and cub to come closer.

Jared doesn't need to be told twice as he practically rushes to his side and begins to scent him, covering any lingering medical smell that Jeremy didn't manage to erase. Jeremy is all over them again, his wings blocking most of the light and limiting the world to a wall of creamy feathers. Jared moves around carefully, eyeing the bandage across Mike's chest, then the deep cut on Jere's forehead. The latter's arms find their way around the small Alpha's shoulders, pulling him closer.

"So," Michael croaks again, "What did I miss ?"

Jeremy scoffs and Jared glares at him.

"Death, apparently," his mate replies with an eye-roll.
"Don't act like you didn't just climbed back from Hell."
"But was I shot ?"
"You got abducted, babe, it's not less of a deal."
"The worst thing I got out of it was dehydration and a superficial cut."
"Uh, excuse me, I recall seeing you knocked out, too."
"Yeah, maybe, but I didn't get a bone shattered."
"I'm so fucking glad you're both okay." Jared mutters, his eyes glassy again.

The two stop bickering to exchange a surprised look, before glancing down at their son, who squirms under their inquisitive looks and turns around, burying his red face in the crook of Jeremy's neck.

"Don't make me repeat myself."
"Awww, look at him being soft and all," Michael sniggers and stretches to mess with the younger angel's hair, who growls in response.

Jeremy hums, his fingers finding their way to Michael's hair.

"So," Jared starts again, "When are you two reckless dummies going to come back home ?"
"As soon as my lungs allow me to stand up."
"What's wrong with your lungs ?" Jeremy asks immediately, his whole frame tensing in concern.

Michael shrugs, making way for Jared who decided to switch places and hug him instead of his other dad. Jeremy, now deprived of his personal heater shifts closer, throwing a leg across his mate's.

"They got squished or whatever and I have to wait for them to get back to normal."

Jared scoffs in disbelief and shakes his head.

"I swear, it's almost like you two are trying to get killed," he grunts, then quickly adds, "Please don't get killed. You're idiots but I still like you."

Jeremy clutches at his chest dramatically, making Michael laugh.

"I live with two drama queens," he smirks as he untangles Jared's right wing fluff.

Jared quacks indignantly, but Jeremy laughs out loud. Michael's heart squeezes pleasantly in his chest.

"I'm glad too. It would be a shame not to be able to see your stupid faces anymore."

Jeremy leans in to kiss him, but Jared gives him a jab.

"Ew ! Don't do that when I'm sitting between you two !!"
"You're still free to go away and close the door behind you," Jeremy points out (almost) innocently.
"Oh, haven't you heard ?" Jared snarks, his cock-blocking history already processing before his eyes.
"Or," Michael yawns, "We could nap. I love naps. Let's nap."

Jeremy doesn't need anything more to flop on top of them like a bony blanket.

Chapter Text

Evan is buzzing, nervousness sparkling under his skin. He's a restless, jittering, anxious mess and doesn't know how to calm down. Zec told him that Connor was okay - well, as okay as someone can be after being shot in the leg and punched in the face repeatedly.

He's waiting at his den's door now, conscious that it would have been way easier to go through Connor's instead, but he can't bring himself to even get close to it, not when it smells so bland and dead. So he takes the long way around, knowing that he has to go back all the way down to the ground floor in hallways that are starting to be too narrow for him. He doesn't care. He doesn't want to think about the empty den. He doesn't want to think about the lack of scent. All he wants, right now, is for this damn door to open so he can finally go see his friend.

Said door eventually hisses and slides, Zec waiting behind it with a tired but satisfied look on his face.

"Hey," he greets.

Evan hums in response and presses forward, following his paternal figure down the long white corridors. Zec's head is dropping in slumber and he wonders since when the man didn't have a full night of sleep. He seems old, somehow, and Evan doesn't know a lot about human aging, but Zec definitely looks old and tired.

"The anesthesia is wearing off," the ranger yawns, "so he might be a little... incoherent. Don't let him scratch his stitches, or take off his splint, or touch his face. I don't know how he managed to break his cast without damaging his bone, but still, we're never too careful."

The ranger rubs his eyes and chuckles weakly.

"I don't know why I'm telling you that. You probably don't care. Just... Make sure he doesn't hurt himself somehow, alright ?"

Evan mumbles in approval under his breath, picking nervously at his own splint. Zec keeps walking, not even looking back at the angel to see if he follows. Evan always follows anyway. It's one of the laws of the universe : Evan will always follow.

They eventually stop in front of a door, as white as the rest of the hallway, but the caretaker doesn't open immediately, staring at Evan instead for some reason. The poor angel shifts, self-conscious of his own messy state.

"You've grown up so much lately," Zec sighs, but it's not reproachful in any way, more like a blank constatation. "And I didn't see it happen. Fuck. I've been so focused on the rest, like... You know what ? Whatever," he frowns, then ruffles his angel's hair in a familiar gesture. "Be good to him, yeah ? I gotta run."

With that, the recovery room's is open and Evan is stepping inside and... and Connor is here, in short-legged overalls, only one sling on, bandages all over him. Connor, who looks exhausted and vaguely in pain. Connor, who's covered in bruises and cuts and small pink scars. Connor, who's pacing around the room in irritation despite his hurt leg. Connor, who's skinnier than ever. Connor, who's undoubtedly alive.

Something exploses in Evan's chest. He lets out a sob, half out of relief and half out of terror, as if the other could disappear if he dares to blink. Connor's head snaps at the sound, teeth bared in a silent warning, but his face falls instantly when he realizes who's here, his eyes soften, his entire posture loosens, his wings flop in his back and he opens his arms. Evan doesn't hesitate.

One second they're five feet apart, the next they're impossibly close. Evan distantly knows that he's a crying mess again, but he can't care less because Connor is here, in his arms, under his fingers, Connor is everywhere and it's just how it should always be.

His head is buried in the crook of Connor's neck, his arms tight around Connor's waist, and he's crying on Connor's clothes, and Connor is crying too, Connor has his hands in Evan's hair and it's kind of uncomfortable with the hard plastic around his forearm but they don't care, Evan doesn't care because holy shit Connor is alive and Connor is hugging him. And he knows it should be embarrassing to cry on each other like that, but somehow it's okay because they're together and Connor, holy shit, Connor is back and he's not dying and Evan is not dying either and. It's fine. They're fine, they're here, breathing and crying together and making a mess of themselves but it's okay. It's okay.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Louis chews on his lip, avoiding to look at one screen in particular, trying to focus on anything else than the two angels reunited on a lower floor. He tries not to think how he would have liked to have the same thing with Mathilde. He tries not to think about the knot in his throat that stops the air from going through. He tries not to think about the weight on his chest that he knows will alleviate in the future but never really go away.

Instead, he tries to think about Chuck and Clarisse, who need more attention than ever, about Tex, who's mourning to death in one of the recovery rooms, about Zec who tried to apologize clumsily. He tries to think about the rest of the Pack, about how happy they were to puppy pile together earlier that day, even if eight angels were missing it. He tries to think about Heather, who's still fighting tooth and nail with the administration. He tries to think about Christine and Heidi, who took the time to explain the new plot twist whoever wanted to know.

When he still can't get his mind away from the two angels hugging like their lives are depending on it, he decides to give up. He climbs down of his chair, grabs his jacket and leaves the room. Someone has to take care of Tex anyway.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Evan and Connor eventually end on the floor because crying so much is honestly exhausting. They're still kind of cuddling, sitting side to side against a wall, Evan's wing protecting Connor's sore back and wing articulation from the cold concrete. The latter has his legs thrown across his lap and his head resting on his shoulder. Evan finally gathers enough strength to share his thoughts.

"I kinda want to punch you," he blurts out, and it sounds loud and stupid and completely out of context but Connor hums quietly in agreement.
"I probably deserve it, but please don't," he mumbles, "My everything hurts."

Evan snorts and closes his fingers on Connor's, examining the butchered knuckles with numb, detached interest.

"That was c-completely stupid."
"They didn't get you. I don't care about the rest."
"But I do," Evan huffs. "You can't- You can't just get yourself in these situations because you want to protect me."

Connor rolls his eyes so hard Evan can feel it against his shoulder. He squeezes their fingers together.

"I'm serious."
"Me too," Connor snaps. "If I didn't run out, he would have caught both of us. And I can't stand the idea of you in this place."
"Oh, but when it's just you it's suddenly okay ?" Evan replies harshly.
"It's not- ! Of course it's not okay, what the fuck !" Connor snarls and raises his head from Evan's shoulder, glaring at him. "Do you think it was fun ? Do you think I was having a great time out there, Evan ?"

Evan clicks his tongue but doesn't reply, even avoiding eye contact.

"I don't give a flying fuck if I get hurt," Connor continues, more and more agitated. "It would not be the first time, and I know it doesn't make it okay, but I could protect you so it doesn't matter !"
"You don't have to protect me !"
"Doesn't mean I don't want to !"

And here are the tears again, threatening to spill, to break the argument, but Evan fights them back with a sniff and a long breath.

"I wish I could protect you," he says, and Connor immediately softens.
"I wish you didn't have to."

It's quiet in the room. Evan misses the warmth of Connor's head on his shoulder, but at least their hands are still linked. He tugs, asking quietly for a truce. Connor huffs and goes back to his previous position with excessive and comical grumble.

"This argument isn't over, though," Evan warns, earning a grunt.
"Whatever you say. I won't apologize for keeping you alive."

Evan huffs but keeps his mouth shut. Anything he can say will fly over Connor's head anyway. He rubs his face against the dark hair, taking in the smell that he missed so much. His own scent is less spiky now that his anxiety has calmed down, but there is still the salty taste of tears lingering on his tongue. Not quite right, but he'll fix it eventually. Connor rolls on the side to put his arm across Evan's stomach, almost fully on his lap at this point, but hey, Evan isn't going to complain. It's giving him an excuse to cuddle even more and -literally- scent the Hell out of him.

"I want to sleep for two years," Connor mutters, his hot breath meeting the other's skin and provoking weird things in his stomach.
"Mmmh," Evan replies intelligently, because his brain is currently short-circuiting.
"And eat. Anything that isn't dry food for dogs. And... I want to walk. I want to go to the pond and see you grab fish. And I want to nap in the sun with Alana and Jared. And... And..."

He's cut by a yawn, and Evan, who's been petting his hair, can tell how tired he is by the way his slit pupils aren't focusing anymore.

"Okay," he hums as he pulls gently on a tangled lock of hair, and then repeats, "Okay, we'll do that."

But Connor is already sleeping, curled up between Evan's legs, breathing against his throat, and it's the more paisible Evan has ever seen him.

Chapter Text

Evan awakes all of sudden. He not sure why he's not sleeping anymore, but here he is. He huffs, annoyed, and rolls on his side, his face then meeting Connor's. The hurt angel is still deeply asleep, so he takes a good look at him. From the dark purple of the bags under his eyes to the shadows on his cheeks, from his matted hair to the crease of his brows, from the yellowing bruise on his cheekbone to his skinned lips, everything really makes Evan ready to fight for him.

But first, he needs to take a moment for himself.

As he tries to pull away a bit, he realizes Connor's arms are snaked around his waist and not letting go. He huffs and brushes his fingertips on the other's face, earning a light groan.

"Connor," he whispers, then louder when Connor doesn't seem to register, "Con, you have to let go. I need to pee."

Eventually the tall angel grumbles something in his sleep and rolls the other way, curled up facing the wall. It would be adorable it it didn't show off his bandages. Evan represses a shiver and gets up from the hay.

Three minutes later, he finds himself at a loss of what to do, because it's still very early, Connor is still sleeping in the corner and no one came by to change their water or bring them food yet, so. Yeah. For the first time in a while, he finds himself with empty hands.

He finally settles for grooming himself, sitting against the door so he can hear when a healer passes by, and starts taking off dirt out of his fluff. He glares at the two spots where he lost fuzz during the week, from the insane amount of stress he was under, wondering how long he's going to need to grow it back. Winter is close, and it might become a problem if he can't have a good thermal insulation for his own body. Not that anyone would ever leave him to freeze, but still. He'd rather not be a burden for anyone.

A soft noise makes him look up at Connor, who hasn't moved, but Evan can see that his face is pinched, his lips pale and his pulse beating fast under the translucent skin of his throat. A nightmare.

"Connor," Evan calls, and when his friend doesn't move he walks up to him. "H-Hey, wake up."

As he's about to touch him, maybe to shake him or something, anything, when he wakes up with a start.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

It's red. Everything is red and painful and wet and hot and Connor knows it's blood. He can taste it on his tongue. Feel it on his hands. He knows it's the soldier's blood. It's red and boiling and terrifying. The panic is raising on his stomach, his heart rate accelerates, his ears buzz. He can't remember how to breathe. He can't breathe. He can't breathe-

And suddenly he's back, in the white room, with Evan who's looking at him like he has a second head or something, and Connor kind of feels like crying. Evan must have seen the tears forming in his eyes, caught the itch in his respiration, because he's back to his side, eyebrows dropping in a worried expression and he's just beautiful and Connor is maybe crying harder because he doesn't deserve any of it, he doesn't deserve to be this broken and most of all he doesn't deserve Evan at all.

"It's okay," Evan whispers in his ear, soothing, sounding calm despite his shaking hands rubbing circles on his shoulders. "It's okay, you're okay."

It grounds him, somehow, the hands on him, the low stream or words escaping the other angel's lips, the attentive eyes filled with contained fear, like Connor could crumble even more at any moment. Because Connor is crumbling, but still hanging on somehow, clinging on Evan like it's the only thing keeping him from a full-blown panic attack.

He manages to calm down after a while. He doesn't know how long Evan has been holding him. He only knows that he's calm enough to keep his emotions at bay, far far away from where he can feel them and Evan can see them, deep down where they can't hurt anymore.

He's not in the barn, trying to rip Ezra apart. He's not in the warehouse, about to be sold to a man with hungry eyes. He's not in his original Pack's nest, a human hand around his throat and forcing him out from the nursery.

He's not, he's not, because he's here, and he's now, and he's safe and protected and healing.

"I killed a man," he says, because it's true, because no matter how hard he's trying to protect Evan from the outside world and hide how broken he is, he can't keep this for himself, it's too much, it's too much.

And maybe Evan just acts like he understand, maybe he sees how much of a wreck Connor really is, but he has enough decency not to say anything, instead covering him in sharp, anxious scent, and it's not ideal but it's still better than the raw terror.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

"Tex is pregnant."

Christine blinks, her gaze focusing on Louis instead of the online article she's been reading.

"Excuse me, what ?"
"Tex is pregnant."
"Uh," she says. "And is it good or bad news ?"

Louis sighs and sits next to her, rubbing his eyes and the bridge of his nose.

"I don't know. I mean, angel pregnancies are always a good thing, but I'm worried about her. She doesn't drink or eat and more recently she's been..."
"...Louis ?"

Another sigh.

"She's been plucking out her feathers."
"Fuck."
"Yeah."
"Can we do something ?" she asks, concern growing visible on her face, earning a shrug.
"She's grieving her mate. I mean, if I had feathers I would probably rip them out too. I get it."

They fall into silence, racking their brains to find any idea. Christine snaps her fingers.

"A support group. Maybe we should do just that."
"A support group ?" Louis snorts. "For the angels ? I don't think they'd appreciate if we try to get into their heads like that."
"Not what I'm saying," she shakes her head. "More like, gather a bunch of them to talk things out. To show support, you know ? So they know they're not alone."
"They already know that."
"Do they ? Because Tex has been really acting like she's cut from the rest of the Pack. She has no one to talk to."
"She has me."
"I meant no angel."

Louis thinks about it. It's true, in a way : Tex has always been a loner, even when she was mated to Matt. She didn't have any close friends, more like close Pack members, but no one she would ask for help. Even when, later, Chuck and Clarisse entered the big picture, it was always just the four of them. There weren't any more contacts than necessary with the rest of the angels.

"Maybe you're right," he agrees eventually.
"You know I always am," Christine winks.
"...You spend too much time with Heather."
"Maybe. Anyway, I'll talk to Zec and Alana about this."
"Alana ? Why her ?" Louis raises an interested eyebrow.

Christine turns a bright shade of pink but doesn't answer, making a run for the closer door instead.

"You know you won't escape my questions forever !" he yells after her. "My gaydar never lies !"

Chapter Text

Zec swears his coworkers are avoiding him.

This morning, as he comes at work with strictly more caffeine in his blood than necessary, he's sure he saw Christine duck in another hallway as soon as she gets a glimpse of him. Louis has been running around, looking suspicious, ditching any sort of conversation. And, obviously, Heather is nowhere to be found. (He's also witnessed Claire, Jesus and Ryan hide in the pantry when they thought he wasn't looking.)

Not gonna lie, he feels pretty on edge when he enters the territory, but the angels' presence soothes him quickly. Jared is the first to come to him, eyeing the plastic trail with the day's fruits and vegetables with great interest. He looks better, Zec notices : less tired, his hair and feathers more glossy. Knowing that his family is safe probably does that to a guy. Heidi follows quickly after with all the cubs, like a general leading her small army to conquer some lands. Caleb and Lisa emerge from the trees, followed by a tired Jasper and his mate fussing all over him. With Evan being still with Connor, Zec has no one requesting for attention more than usual. It's quieter. He's not sure he likes it better.

Because all good things must end at some point, the meal is over before he can really appreciate the time spent : his trail is empty, the angels focused on something else. The show must go on, and so does Zec. So he goes backstage, checks on the resting pack members, brings a snack to Ezra, makes inventory. Louis dodges him when he enters the staff room and runs away before he can even ask what he did this time to earn the silent treatment. So he shuts his mouth, takes a ten minutes break, drink another half liter of coffee and goes back to work.

He still hates doing paperwork, but this time the distraction from the ugly twist in his guts is welcome. Most of it is just bills for straw and fabric pieces and food. Speaking of food, maybe they should buy a full pig for the start of winter ? The cubs would have a blast hunting it, and it would be a good way for the Omegas to stock some proteins and fats before it really starts to get cold. He taps the pen against his lips, thinking : what is Connor's special food again ? Did he ever discover what it was in the first place ? He's not sure. He should do another test with him, whenever he's physically healed.

Queen plays softly from his phone as he slowly but surely gets through the pile of accumulated work no one ever has the want of the time to do. Buddy you're a boy, make a big noise, playin' in the streets, gonna be a big man someday, you got mud on your face, you big disgrace, kicking your can all over the place...

"Singing, we will, we will, rock you," he hums, his foot taping in rhythm under the table.

Ezra walks in, buried in five layers of clothes and blankets, looking tired but less sick than the day before. He crashes on the small sofa in the corner of the room with a small 'oof' but doesn't say anything else, focusing instead on instinctively nesting the best he can.

"Are you too not talking to me ?" Zec asks, still covering pages and pages of doing accounts, and the Nephilim jumps a little.
"Not talking to..? No, why ?" he sniffs as he pulls on his sleeves.
"Everyone else is avoiding me today."
"That sucks."
"Yeah."
"Did you do something to them ?"
"Not that I'm aware of," the ranger sighs and rubs the side of his head. "Maybe I said something again, but I don't know. They would all ditch me at once ?"

Ezra shrugs and sniffs again. His cold doesn't seem to go away, no matter how much he wears, and Zec frowns.

"C'mere for a sec," he says, waving at the kid and pulling a thermometer from one of the drawers of the desk. "You still cold ?"
"A little," Ezra says once he's shuffled closer and has the plastic stick pressed against his forehead. "It gets better, though."
"That's good. You're still eating ?"
"Small bits by smalls bits, like you said."

The other smirks and allows him to go back on the couch. They stay like that for an other hour, Zec responding to some of the donations while keeping an eye on the sleepy Nephilim. Eventually, he gets up and cracks his joints before shaking Ezra awake.

"I want to show you something."

The kid mumbles something but follows him down the halls, then outside where they both shiver with the temperature difference and walk all the way to one of the carts that brings them on the other side of the site. Ezra eyes suspiciously the tall building that looks nothing like the hospital wing, wondering what might hide behind the grey facade.

"Where are we going ?" he asks a few times, but the older man only waves his hand and doesn't answer.

They get off the cart and inside the building, gratefully taking in the warmth and climbing inside the elevator.

"What is this building for ?" Ezra decides to change his approach a little, and for some reason it works.
"Mostly archives," Zec says, "but we also put in here all the stuff too cumbersome to fit in the other building but that we don't want to throw away, like the old cat-tree. Sometimes, when we do renovations, workers stack their stuff in one of the rooms. Every now and then we still find a lonely screwdriver. Ah, we're stopping here," he points out, unhelpfully as the elevator indicates the last floor.

Ezra carefully puts his feet between the boxes filling everything from floor to ceiling, while trying to keep up with Zec, already at the other end of the room.

"Look," he simply says as he opens the french window.

And Ezra's breath is taken away.

From where they are, the glass of the dome looks small enough to fit in a hand. The hospital, a small white block squished against the edge of it, seems way too tiny to allow five angels in it. Ezra knows it's only because of the perspective, and it gives him a slight headache, but it looks impossible. Angels are tall : this ? Too small. Way too small. And most of the time, they aren't even allowed backstage.

"Do you think they feel cramped in there ?" he wonders ut loud, pointing at the glittering surface of the dome.

Zec considers it for a few moments.

"I don't know," he finally answers. The territory is pretty big inside, there is a whole part of it that is just holes on the wall, you know ? It makes a lot of room."
"Yeah, but, like," Ezra shakes his head, trying to find the right words, "It's not the sky. It's not outside. And, okay, I get it, it's to protect them - to protect us, sure. But... It's not real."
"I find it pretty real."
"I can't talk," the kid whines, "I meant like it's not what outside is supposed to be. They're not free to go anywhere. And not just because of the dome, but because they will get hurt if they go out."
"I see what you mean," he nods. "They can't fully appreciate what's good because of what's bad."
"Yeah. That's not fair."
"I know buddy," Zec coos and rustles Ezra's already entangled hair. "Life isn't fair. Doesn't mean we can't do our best."
"And our best is supposed to be a glass bubble ?"
"For now. One day we'll get to set everyone free."

Ezra makes a doubtful pout but doesn't insist. He hopes Zec is right.

______________________________________________________________________________________

"What did I even do ?" Zec yells as Christine is once again trying to hide from him - unsuccessfully.

She shifts nervously from a foot to another, before sighing loudly and dramatically.

"I'm not allowed to tell," she stage-whispers, "But maybe if you knew what day it is you would know what's up. Okaygottagonowbye !"

And with that she leaps out of the camera room, but this time Zec isn't letting her escape, so he chases after her. Surprisingly, despite her rather short legs, Christine manages to lose him. At this point, may as well open every door to find her. Maybe he should just take a second and think, but-

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY !"

Zec jumps. He was expecting a lot of things, but not this. He blinks, his eyes shifting between the staff members and family members, all gathered in one tiny room with a giant cake.

"What ?"
"Hey bitch, how long since you looked at a calendar ?" a tiny woman with scarlet hair rolls her wheelchair in his direction, a crooked smile across the face.
"I- I'm- Tia, what are you doing here ?" he laughs breathlessly, hugging the crap out of his sister.
"Louis called me," she replies as she's lowered back in her seat, and for once there is no snark in her tone, "Said your birthday wouldn't be the same without your favorite Deus-Ex-Machina."
"I must admit, her intervention was pretty spectacular on the whole 'Finding Angels' story," Eden laughs, walking closer with two glasses of champagne in her hands. "Hello, darling, by the way. Happy birthday."
"Hi, love," Zec smiles and kisses her until a mockingly disgusted Tia rolls between the two of them.
"Stop your hetero bullshit, old boy, there are still a few people who want your attention."

The rest of the party is a happy blur in Zec's mind. He eats cake, laughs at Louis and Claire shouting memes at each other, hugs Tia despite her indignant noises, kisses Eden again. Watches Heather and Christine dancing some weird variation of swing. Congratulates Jesus for his recipe because it's just that good. Wins against Ryan and Susan at beer-pong. And, for a while, he completely forgets the angels.

Later, that night, when Louis and Ryan are passed out after a drinking contest and everyone else went home after wishing him again a happy birthday, he pulls out his phone and calls the first number on his list. The tone rings two times before it picks up.

"Ezechiel ?" the voice asks, sleepy.
"Hi mom," he hums," Did I wake you up ?"
"Hi, baby," his mother replies, and he can feel the warm smile in her voice. "No, don't worry. My meds make me a little tired, is all."
"What are you doing ?" he asks, conversational.
"Well, I'm cooking rice and trying to stop the dog to eat it, and I'm talking with my amazing son who just turned a year older. Happy birthday, honey."
"Thanks, mom."
"Feels like yesterday you were barely able to stand on your legs," she giggles. "Now look at you. You became an awesome man, Zec. I'm hella proud."
"Don't fucking swear," he laughs when she squawks indignantly, sounding a lot like her daughter.
"I swear as much as I damn please, young boy."
"Not so young, mom, not so young."
"Right. You'll still be my baby kid anyway, you know that."

Zec smiles at his phone. He knows she can't see him, but he wishes she could see all the affection he has in him when he doesn't have the words to describe it.

"I know."
"I'm proud of you, baby," she repeats, with more emotions in her voice this time. "You went a long way."
"Hey, look, Ma. I made it."
"You did, honey. You really did."

Chapter Text

A few days later, Zec makes a last check-up on Connor to make sure he can go back to the Pack. Obviously, the ranger doesn't come in the white room so the wounded angel doesn't feel crowded, but Evan's presence seems to help a lot. Connor doesn't even try to hide away anymore when a healer comes to check on them. The fact that he can smell Ezra on him probably helps too.

So here they are, in the infirmary, with Connor sitting on the table and Evan waiting in the hallway (with the door open, of course, Zec isn't one to do basic mistakes). After the second operation where they took out the bullet in his leg, Connor looks better than he did when he first came back. He's still not looking perfectly fine, but at this point only constant attention from the Beta and Gammas can do any good.

The rest of his wounds are all clean and healing properly, leaving silver scars in the pale skin. Zec is more concerned about that wing that doesn't seem to get better, but he cleans it and bandages it lightly anyway.

Once he's done he brings them behind the door of Connor's nest, but Evan grows nervous at each step and soon he realizes that maybe they don't want to be there anymore, so he makes an exception and let them go back into the Sanctuary by the main door. Evan immediately sprints outside and flies for a couple of seconds before making a looping and landing back next to Connor. The latter seems relieved to be back on familiar ground as he flops on the ground with a satisfied huff and lays there, unwilling to move.

When the rest of the Pack notices their presence, Zec takes it as his queue to leave, but not before rubbing his guys' hair affectionately. If Connor groans a little and swats his hand away, there is no real fight behind, and if Evan leans in the touch a little longer than usual, Zec is not going to complain.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

"Dude !!!" Jared shrieks as he lands clumsily next to Connor, almost knocking him over.
"Watch it," Connor grumbles, brushing the dust off him, but Jared is all over him, scenting him like his life depends in it.

Evan actively stops himself from reacting. Jared is allowed to be close to Connor. Hell, Evan had Connor for himself for almost five days, and all they did was cuddle and scent each other. There is no point in being jealous. Not that Evan is jealous, of course. That would be stupid. It's just Jared. And Connor is allowed to have other friends than him.

Alana finally spots them and rushes away from the small circle of stones where Christine is teaching her ASL class, jumping on Connor with a high-pitched scream of joy. Evan is definitely not wanting to step in, no, absolutely not. He decides to leave his friends fussing over each other and goes to look for his mom. He finds her in top of a tree, taking care of Lewis and Tora so Nora finally has some free time to take care of her hurt mate.

"Hey honey," she greets him with a soft smile, the cubs squirming on her lap. "Is Connor okay ?"

Evan nods and grabs Lewis to groom him, to the cub's greatest delight and to Heidi's relief.

"He's fine. I, uh, Jared and Alana are all over him right now. I thought they might need some space."

She raises an eyebrow, a knowing look on her face and a defeated sigh in her chest. Sometimes her son is so oblivious.

"Does that bother you ?"
"What ?" he frowns, looking up at her from his work.
"Jared and Alana. Being all over Connor."
"N-no ! They're his friends too, I can't- I'm perfectly okay with this !" he squeaks indignantly.

Heidi looks at him flatly, unimpressed. He feels his face turning red. He somehow always forgets that there is no use in lying to a Beta.

"...Okay, maybe I'm not."
"You're obviously not, baby. It's okay to be a little jealous from time to time."
"I'm not jealous ! I-I don't have a reason to !" Evan grunts and tugs at his hair. "It's just Jared and Alana. They're our friends. They're Pack. And Connor is a friend and Pack, too. I don't- There is no reason for me to want them to stay away from him."

If Heidi's hands were free, she would probably facepalm or gently slap some sense into him.

"Honey, have you considered that, maybe, Connor is not just a friend to you ?"

Evan frowns at her and she wan almost hear the gear inside his head. When he turns to a brighter shade of red, she knows he came to a conclusion.

"...Oh."
"Yeah, oh," she laughs.
"Nonono, wait, it's not like that !" he stutters, earning a weird look from Tora who scrambles to take her brother's place on his lap. "We're just friends ! We're j-just really, really close friends, that's- that's all it is."
"I mean, you sleep together," she points out helpfully.
"I sleep with Jared too !"
"You share your food with him."
"I do that with a lot of people. I just want to be s-sure everyone is fed."
"Yeah, maybe not the best example," she admits, turning Lewis on his back so she can rub his tummy. "But you spend most of your time with him."
"I-I like his company !" he shouts exasperatedly, earning a dirty look from Leandro and Yuri a few trees away. "He gets me- He's not bothered by how weird I am."

He's about to add something but snaps his mouth shut. Connor probably doesn't want anyone else to know about the nightmares he's been having since he came back.

"You're not weird, Evan, you're just growing up."
"Y-Yeah, well growing up sucks."
"Agree, but also it's not the point," she sighs. "Look, I'm not telling you to court him or anything-"
"I swear, Mom-"
"But maybe just talk with Jared and Alana about boundaries and how it makes you uncomfortable when they get too touchy-feely with Connor."
"It's not like I can stop them... And Jared will mock me."
"He won't," she stops him. "He's not blind, honey, he sees how attached you two are to each other. If you asks him nicely to step back, I'm sure he would be understanding. And Alana is still a cub, no matter how hard she tries to act like an adult, she still has a lot to learn about personal space and- Wait, do you smell that ?"

Evan lifts his head and sniffs the air, the twins imitating him with poor results. But Evan and Heidi can smell it : it's the scent of a distressed angel and panic attack.

"Mom ?" Evan asks, worry creeping in his voice.

They share a look and jump from the tree synchronously, gliding all the way to the nest wall like two giant, worried birds of prey. They land roughly on the wall, their claws easily finding grip in the concrete as they climb into the concerned nest.

It takes Evan a split second for his eyes to adapt to the soft darkness and for his ears to catch the quiet sobs coming from the door.

"Jeremy..?" Heidi calls gently, entering the room with her son hot on her heels.

The Alpha twitches, closing his wings better around him, hiding away in a mess of ruffled feathers.

"Jeremy," Heidi repeats more firmly with her Beta voice like she does when one of the cubs is being difficult. "Open up, Alpha. Let me see you."
"No."
"Jeremy, come on."

There is another strangled sob and something that sounds suspiciously like "everything about me makes me wanna die". Evan shivers. Eventually, the wings open just a little, allowing Heidi's arm to get inside the fluffy cocoon to scent the crying angel. Soon enough, he's calmed down enough to open completely and throw himself into his Beta's arms, taking in some quick but steady breath.

"I swear you kids aren't making anything easy," she hums and gently caress the top of his head.
"Wh-What happened ?" Evan asks, scooting closer to the two bundled together.
"Michael almost-" Jeremy gasps, tears filling his eyes again. "He was suffocating... They had to operate him again."
"Why ?" the Beta frowns.

The Alpha shakes his head and grabs a fistful of wings, anxiously tugging at them. "He started wheezing and... He said that his chest hurt."

"But he was doing fine, wasn't he ?" Evan sounds surprised. "Jared said th-that he was okay when he left."

Jeremy shakes his head but looks unable to say anything more, so Heidi hugs him tight and turns to look at her son.

"Go get Jared for me, will you ? And ask the humans if they know anything."

Evan doesn't ask twice and flies out of the cave immediately.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

The warm flutter in Connor's chest that seems to be related to Evan's proximity is immediately replaced by the feeling that something is wrong, as the latter lands next to him and Alana. Evan looks frazzled and smells like the end of the world just started.

"Where is Jared ?" he asks, out of breath and scanning the small group playing not far away.
"Went to have a drink," Connor answers with a frown. "Why, what's up ?"
"I don't know," Evan shakes his head. "It has to do with Michael and Jeremy. Something happened and- Jared !" he yelps when he finally notices the young Alpha. "You have t-to go back to your nest right now."
"What ? Why ?" the shorter angel asks, a large plastic cup in his hand.
"Please, just- Just go, okay ? My mom and your dad are w-waiting for you."

Jared frowns worriedly but flaps his wings and takes the direction of the nest, no questions asked.

"Wait, so what's going on with the Alphas ?" Alana presses as Evan slumps on the ground next to Connor with a warning glare to her while still trying to catch his breath.
"Michael had to be operated again," Evan huffs once he's sure she won't come any closer - he feels kinda bad to have to fill this kind of instinct when it comes to Connor, but his mom was right, he really don't like to see her that close to him. "And Jeremy f-freaked out ? I don't know. He said something about wanting to die. He was... He was not okay."

Connor winces.

"Sucks to be him."
"Yeah," Evan agrees. "I, uh, my mom told me to look for the rangers and ask questions. You guys want to come ?"
"Uh, obviously," Alana scoffs before getting up and brushing imaginary dirt from her overall.
"Yeah, sure," Connor mutters and accepts the hand Evan gives him to get up.

Chapter Text

In the end, Alana makes more of the talking. It's not that surprising, since she's pretty fluent in sign language and that Evan is not all that enthusiastic about talking to people, and Connor is mostly here for moral support. According to Christine who talked to Heather who saw Ryan who helped Louis operate Michael, the Alpha has something called "collapsed lung" due to his rib cage not being fixed perfectly. Christine assures them that, despite how bad it sounds, Michael is perfectly fine now and only needs a few more weeks of rest.

Jeremy's reaction, on the other hand, worries the young translater. Alana says something about co-dependency that makes her frown. Evan doesn't ask. Connor doesn't care.

When Heidi comes back with Jared and Jeremy, the latter still seems a little pale but looks way better than the crying mess Evan saw earlier. His mom, on the other hand, doesn't look so good.

"Everything's okay ?" he asks, and earns a tired glance from her before she pulls him aside. "Mom ?"

She doesn't answer before they're deep in the back of the territory, almost at the base of the wall. She sits - or more like collapses on the ground - and motions for him to come next to her. For some reason, it is now a pattern for them to sit whenever they have to talk.

"Evan," she starts and he immediately knows he won't like what's coming next, "I want to be sure that you know I love you."

He hums, unsettled, and starts to pick at his splint.

"You are the kindest person I know, the most level-headed angel I had the chance to meet, and the best thing that ever happened to me," she continues, not even stopping when she notices his breath catching. "You are a strong, young angel with the biggest heart and, okay sometimes you might be a bit dense," a chuckle, "but you're smart and bright and... I'm glad you're part of this Pack. I know you can provide it if needed and protect it if things go wrong."
"I-I'm just-" Evan stammers, pointing at his healing arm as if to emphasize his point, "I'm just a messy Omega, I don't-"
"Evan, honey, love of my life," she interrupts him by putting her hands on each side of his face, "Stop talking. you're not just a messy Omega, okay. You're never just something. You're a person, Evan, a person with enough guts to face your problems."
"That's not true," he mumbles, trying to escape her piercing gaze.
"It is," she insists. "You are all of those things and even more. And I know that one day, you'll be a good Beta too."

His eyes widen at that.

"...A Beta ?" he repeats, sounding deservedly unconvinced. "I barely know how t-to talk to people."
"Shhhh, a mother always knows. Besides, between Zec and I, you don't really have much room for any other status," she adds with a wink.
"Okay fair but- I'm not good at that. I'm not-" he searches his words for a moment, "I'm not you," he eventually finishes lamely.
"You don't need to be me to be good enough. You just have to be yourself and do your best."

And these is a glint in her eyes, something determined and dangerous and loving, and Evan thinks it's not fair. It's not fair because she's so good at what she does, and he's not, and he has no idea where this conversation is going and he hates it. But here she is, smiling a hil and getting up like they had a perfectly normal discussion, like it all made absolute sense and that everyone involved knows what it is about. Evan stays here, in the dry grass, looking as his mom flies away and wondering why he got so many praises when she knows he doesn't deserves them and he gets anxious and guilty and-

"Hey, Acorn, where are you ?! Stop sulking and come here, we got some bread !" Jared calls, too close for his liking.

He barely manages to hide his jump and winces, watching as his friend makes his way between the trees and the wall followed by and jittery Alana and a steadily-growing-nervous Connor.

"I'm," he coughs, wondering why his voice sounds so strange, "I'm here. I was, uh, I was talking with Mom."
"Found him !" Jared screams back at the two others like they aren't right behind him and God, can he be more loud ?
"Good," Connor presses, his face turning a worrying shade of white, "Now can we please get away from the trees ?"

Alana is the first to reach Evan, and from the weird glance she pulls he guesses that he probably doesn't look too well either. She doesn't comment, however, and instead challenges him for a race to the eating spot. She has absolutely no chance against him and she's very aware of that, but Evan is glad for the distraction anyway.

___________________________________________________________________________________

It gets weird when the sun starts setting above the horizon. They're still sitting in the lunch area, munching on whatever was left on the plastic trails, while a bunch of the rangers go from an angel to the other to give medications and dietary supplements. Jared grumbles something about getting eyedrops and settles near Zec, who has a small bottle in his hands.

Evan is feeling relaxed with Alana against his side and Connor in front of him. The taller angel got an unexpected visit from Ezra, the wingless Nephilim everybody talks about, and the kid is sitting nicely by his side, hiding under his good wing - and several layers of blankets. This, for some reason, doesn't trigger Evan's new-found jealousy. He's not sure why, but he supposes it's good.

Connor's eyelids are dropping despite the fact that he makes a conscious effort to stay awake, but eventually Evan gets up and pulls him on his feet, to Alana's and Ezra's protests.

"Time to go to bed," he explains when Connor blinks curiously at him, surprisingly maleable in his hands.

When they reach the nest wall, Evan starts to slow down, before completely stopping a few meters away from the entrance.

"What are you waiting for ?" Connor yawns, already half-way through. "Let's go."
"I... I don't think I can."

Connor frowns and blinks, like a confused owl who just got flashed in the face.

"What d'you mean, you don't think you can ?"
"I can't sleep here."
"Ev, what-"
"For the same reason that you have trouble getting under the trees," Evan finally blurts before his brain can understand what his mouth is saying.

Then he blushes. Connor frowns harder, but then his face goes blank and he carefuly says :

"Oh."
"Yeah, um, plus they kinda put smell eraser all over the place so it smells really off ? It's like it's dead or abandonned or something and I really don't like it."
"But," Connor replies very slowly, like he's having a hard time putting words on his thoughts or like Evan is a thick-skulled cub, "If we get in there, then we will scent everything. It's not really a problem."

Evan blushes harder. He shakes his head.

"Still. I can't sleep here. I just... I can't."
"Okay, then where are we sleeping ?" Connor huffs, but it's more of weariness than annoyance.
"Oh, uh, I figured- I thought I would sleep in my own nest and you'd stay here ? Cause, you know, it's all the way up the wall and there is no good way for you to climb all the way up ?"

The other angel's face falls and something breaks a little in Evan's chest.

"Okay," Connor eventually says, "if it's what you want."
"Are you..." the smaller boy asks, feeling a pang of guilt in his chest, "Are you going to be okay ? On your own, I mean."
"With the nightmares ?"
"...Yeah."
"I'll manage. Good night, Evan," failing at hiding the disappointment in his voice.

And with that, Connor disappears from view and Evan is left alone with the feeling of doing something wrong. He climbs the wall up to his nest and hates it when he realizes how empty it is without Connor or Jared. He hears the soft buzz of the small camera changing filter for night time, and hates that there is no other breath than his own, faltering and out of place.

Maybe he should have made an effort and just go to sleep down there, but then his panic raises just thinking about the fact that they're not safe on ground level. Then he hates himself a little for leaving Connor where it's not safe. He kind of hates himself a little right now. But he lays down in his own small, cold nest and stays put, instead of going down and snuggle with the other angel like his instincts are screaming at him to do.

As if the day wasn't weird enough, he suddenly smells his mom scent as she probably flies in front of his cave, which is weird because she always stays in her nest after a certain hour so everyone knows where to find her. He's surprised enough to get out of his nest and look outside.

"Mom !" he shouts-whispers when he notices her next to the entry lock, "What are you doing ?"

She looks up at him and smiles, with that weird thing shining in her eyes again. She mouthes something, but because she's too far for him to hear, he has to guess that she just said "Take care of the Pack".

And she opens the door.

___________________________________________________________________________________

"Watchu doing all by yourself ?" comes a teasing voice from the outside of his room.
"Fuck off, Jasper," Connor offers as way of greeting.
"Yeah no but seriously where is Evan ?" Jasper asks as he settles on the edge of the nest, to Connor's greatest displeasure.
"In his own nest, like you should be right now."
"...But aren't you guys sleeping together ?" the red-headed angels wonders, an eyebrow disappearing in his hairline.
"That's what I thought but not anymore, I guess," Connor tries his best not to sound pissed and sad, and fails miserably.
"Poor cub," the other teases again, but it's not mean. "Did he tell you why, at least ?"
"Something about..." he mumbles, fighting off the sleepiness, "I think it's related to Hell Week. Not sure. And something to do with scent."

Jasper sniffs the air before looking back at his friend.

"Smells normal to me. Smells like you. Maybe a bit bland."

Connor waves his hand, unimpressed, to point at the problem.

"Give him a couple of days," the other says wisely. "He'll be around in no time."
"Why aren't you with your mate, anyway ?" Connor grumbles and rolls on his side to make some space for his bad wing.
"He's a little overbearing at the moment, I needed to get some space," Jasper rolls his eyes, but there is fondness in his voice. "Seems like Hell Week didn't only fuck us, but the rest of the Pack as well. Hey, about that. While you were backstage some of us had stress heats. Maybe now that you're home you might get one too."
"Thanks for the warning," Connor replies with a blank voice, "but I don't get in heat."

Jasper frowns but doesn't say anything. Connor sighs and points at his overalls pooling around his hips.

"Too fucked up down there. The cycle is broken."
"Oof," the other comments. "Sucks to be you."

Connor shrugs. Jasper doesn't add anything. At some point, he gets out, but Connor doesn't notice because he's spacing out. He's not sure he's going to be okay tonight. He doesn't know what he's gonna do for any night if he's not going to be okay tonight.

At first he doesn't hear anything, completely lost in his thoughts as he is, but then the rumble gets louder and louder until there is a violent crack in the sky, a flash of light, and the sound of heavy rain dropping on the dome.

"Shit, fuck fuck sit fuck holy Mother Nature-" he shouts when a second crack, even louder, splits the sky in two.

He scrambles to the entrance and glances up, looking with a worried eye the dripping glass above his head. Okay, maybe the fear of storms was rational when he was still a tiny cub leaving outside, bu now it's getting ridiculous. He's adult and in a safe space, dammit ! Can't his irrational fears cut him some slack some day ?

It's at that moment that the smell hits him, a violent stink of anxiety that he knows way too well. And this time there is no Michael to stop him.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Evan isn't sure that he isn't dreaming right now. Or having a nightmare. Or whatever middle ground there is between the two concepts.

"Move, I'm getting in," Connor grunts and pushes him away from the entrance of the nest, that very nest that Evan didn't want him to climb too because it would be too dangerous. "Do you plan on sleeping over there or coming here someday this week ?"
"How- Why-" Evan stutters, but the thunder covers his words and Connor frowns worriedly at the sky.
"I hate storms," he says when they can hear each other again, like it explains how he climbed all the way up without claws, "and I hate nightmares. Also you stink, what the fuck happened to you ?"
"...I just saw my mom make a break out of the territory."

Connor's eyes grow a little wider, but he doesn't comment and instead makes grabby hands for Evan, who reluctantly joins him in the nest. The lay down on the soft fabric without a word. He scoots closer when Connor twitches at the next lightning.

"She probably had a good reason for it," the latter comments after a while. "I trust you mom to do the right thing."
"I mean, me too, but she's been very cryptic about it," Evan huffs, anxiety and fear rolling out of him in thick waves.

Connor scents him carefully each time, muting the sour odor under his own.

"I trust her," he repeats. "Whatever she does, she probably has a reason for it."
"Doesn't mean I'm not worried."
"You're always worried."
"I'm very worried then."
"What's the difference between worried and very worried, for you ? Like, where would you draw the line ?"
"What- Hey," Evan frowns, "I see what you're trying to do. You're distracting me !"
"Is it working ?" Connor asks innocently.
"...Yeah," the other relaxes a bit in the embrace. "Thanks."
"No problem," Connor hums, sleepiness back in his voice. "Hey, wake me up if I start screaming."

Evan loses himself for a second in the contemplation of Connor's incredibly long eyelashes, the bag under his eyes, the straight line of his nose, the curve of his lips-

"Sure," Evan blinks nervously. "Are gonna be fine ?"
"No," Connor admits, "but I trust you, too."

Chapter Text

Zec had been taking care of Michael in the infirmary with Jeremy sitting in the hallway when Louis comes to him the next morning.

"Zec, we have a -excuse me Jere, coming through- we have a big problem."
"We don't have any food left kind of big problem or someone got abducted again kind of big problem ?" Zec frowns, dropping the antiseptic from Michael's scar.
"More like "Heidi ran away" kind of big problem," Louis breathes.

Jeremy frowns. Michael and him exchange a worried look. Zec pinches the bridge of his nose.

"How the fuck...?" he growls, slamming the bottle on the table a little harder than necessary.
"I think you might want to see it by yourself. I'll wait for you in the camera room."

As he exits, the ranger share a defeated look with the couple of Alphas.

"Why does this shit keep happening to us ?"

Michael shrugs, Jeremy whines. Zec is tired.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

"That's clever," Heather comments as they loop the video for the fifth time. "I mean I knew that Heidi was particularly woke but this is a whole new level."
"What the fuck is she trying to do ?" Zec asks as he rewinds it again, pausing at the moment where Heidi looks up at the nest wall before opening the door. "And who gave her the password of the door ?"
"I think she found it herself," Louis hums. "I noticed she's been paying attention to us whenever we open or close the entry lock. She probably saw us type the code a few times."
"Okay but why now ?" Christine sighs, arms crossed around her middle. "I mean- we just got everyone back together."
"Not everyone," Zec points out somberly, and the rest of his team freezes.
"Yeah, I guess... I guess we're still missing a few," Louis swallows hard, clearly thinking about Matt.
"We still have no idea where Roman and Karen are," Heather declares, "And it's not like we haven't been searching them."
"You know-" Louis says, but Zec cuts him immediately.
"We're not putting trackers on the angels, that's final."
"Fine !" his best friend grunts, throwing his hands at the sky.

Christine sighs again, shifting her weight from a leg to another. She's never been very good at standing still when nervous. Or anytime, really.

"And Maël ? What are we supposed to do about him ?"

"The neurosurgeon I talked to said he would come around sometime next week to get a good look at him," Louis replies, "But I want to be there with him and his assistant when they handle Maël."
"The last thing we need is another dead angel," Heather agrees.
"Guys, can we please focus on Heidi ?" Zec snaps his fingers, drawing the attention back on him. "Why is no one freaking out about this ? Am I the only one who doesn't like the idea of her being by herself outside the Sanctuary ? We don't even know where she is and why she ran away. Why now ?"
"Actually," Christine pipes up, "I think it's because of the Alphas. I've talked to Jeremy this morning and he's not doing great."
"He's been pretty down lately," Heather adds.
"I think it's because of what happened to Michael - or more generally because of Hell Week, but Michael almost died while Jeremy wasn't there to help."
"Yeah, is it just me or they're both having a hard time doing things separately these days ?" Louis says.
"Co-dependency," Christine mutters to herself. "We should do something about that."
"Wait, hold on a second now," the other woman steps in. "None of us here is a psychiatrist. The boys are surgeons at best, and you don't even have the authorization to come in the operating room.
"Heather, don't be mean," Louis snaps. "We're all trying our best."
"Doesn't mean we're freaking therapists," she growls back. "Look, this is not something we can do blindly. Mental health is not something to be played with and I will not allow someone who hasn't studied it to try and influence them."
"...Can we go back to Heidi ?" Zec calls, his head in his hands. "What are we doing about our runaway Beta ?"
"Geez, I dunno !" Louis "Maybe if she had a tracker of some sorts-"
"We're not chipping them, Louis ! They're not animals !"
"Stop yelling at me !"
"All of you shut your fucking chatter holes right now !" Christine screeches. "We won't get anything done by fighting like highschoolers !"

The three others grimace at each other for a second, before Zec groans and rubs his face.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scream. But I'm scared for her. We lost enough already, we really don't need this right now."
"Listen," Louis speaks up, voice soft, "What about we tell to the others preserves ? Maybe they can help us, with a bigger surveillance system than ours and all..."
"We could take turns to make roadtrips and look for her ?" Christine offers.
"That's some good ideas," Zec nods. "Okay, let's do this. I'm taking the first turn for the roadtrip. Louis, can you and Claire meet me on the parking in ten ?"
"Roger that."
"Heather, I'm going to need you to look for a therapist for the Alphas. Maybe someone who arleady knows how to work with angels."
"I think I got just the right person," she replies, something cold resonating in her voice.
"...Okay ? Chris, I want you to keep communicating with the Pack. Make sure to know if anything major happens."
"You got it boss."
"Alright team !" Zec claps him hands. "We have angels to take care of."

__________________________________________________________________________________________

"Guys..? Guys ! Wakeupwakeupwakeup !"

Evan starts awake, heart hammering in his chest as he stares at Jared stomping his bare feet at the entrance. Against his flank, Connor cusses quietly before glaring at their friend - and needs a double take.

"What the flying fuck happened to your wings ?"

Jared looks wild with his electrified hair standing on his head and puffy fluff everywhere.

"It's winter, you giant slugs !" the Alpha beams and he's too happy for Evan to be annoyed by the nickname. "It's freaking snowing !"

There's a silent beat before the two of them all but leap outside, Connor remembering at the last second that he can't fly and makes an emergency braking, and Evan... Evan lands on a patch of white cold snow that squishes a little under his feet. Evan is covered in snowflakes and chunks of hardened snow that stick to his hair and he realizes that it's been way too long since last winter.

Jared is off again screaming his glee at anyone who would listen him and Connor climbs down the wall with more or less difficulty. Once he's almost on the ground Evan reaches for him, just to be sure he'll land safely, and they go back to poke at the snow.

"How did that even come here ?" the taller angel frowns, fixing his arm sling, failing to notice how Evan's eyes follow the path of his fingers.
"They, uh," the latter snaps out of his contemplation when he feels the unmatching eyes on him, "they opeened the dome while we were sleeping. They do that in winter ?" he adds, pointing helpfully above their heads where, in fact, a fence replace the top half of the glass dome.
"Neat."
"Yeah."

Evan opens his mouth, about to say something else, when something hits him hard in the face and he falls backwards. Shaking his head to get rid of the snowball, he hears Jared's unapologetic laugh from the trees.

"Oops ?" the other says, before making an indignant noise when he receives a snowball in turn.

Evan and Connor look behind them at Alana, Leandro and Rosa, both looking too innocent for their own good.

"OH YOU'RE SO ON !" Jared roars, before being shut by another line of balls.
"We need ammunition !" Clarisse screams from somewhere at the top of the wall, earning one in the face, courtesy of her brother.

From there, it's complete chaos : cubs and young adults face each other without distinction, just happy to throw half-melted snow at their peers. By the time the rangers come in with the first meal of the day, all of them are drenched to the bone but grinning. Everyone settles on the fact that Alana definitely won, though.

The rest of the adults come out to eat, and to everyone's surprise Jeremy - and even more surprising, Michael - join them. The darker Alpha grins tiredly, an arm around his mate's shoulders as he's being helped to walk, but otherwise seems fine. Jeremy looks exhausted but happy as they sit together where the ground is relatevely dry and Jared loses no time in settling by their side to make sure they're okay.

Alana, who's sitting in front of Evan and Connor, raises an eyebrow.

"So soon after the operation ?" she asks to nobody in particular, but Evan shrugs.
"I guess it's, it's been long enough for him to come back."
"It's barely been a day," Connor comments, munching on a piece of carrot. "They kept me in for longer than that at first."
"It's not the same," Alana counters. "I've been told that you were in worse shape."
"But I didn't almost die."
"...True."
"I think they kept you longer not only because of your wounds but also because you could have been feral, and they needed to, you know ? Make sure you would be fine with us,"

Evan says, his eyes still carefully on the three Alphas.

"Me, feral ?" Connor snorts and gives him a slight jab in the ribs. "Dude, I'm probably the tamest angel of this Pack."

This time it's Evan's turn to raise an eyebrow, looking back at his friend with a stern look. Alana presses her lips together to block a laugh.

"Oh are you, now ?" Evan says, as if inviting Connor to dig deeper his own grave who slowly seems to realize what he just said.
"I mean not at first obviously but-"
"You still grown on Zec whenever he- whenever he comes too close to you. Once I saw you jump super high when Christine tried to talk you into joining the sign language class."

Alana giggles, enjoying the way Connor's face fall a little more at each word and how Evan's face lits up at every point he makes. It's, in her opinion, very comical.

"Okay, smartass," Connor laughs and leans back against his friend, nudging him playfully, "Like you're better than me by always hiding away."
"Uh oh," their friend comments but is promptly ignored.
"Well for once I've been half-raised by a ranger," Evan points out which, fair, "and I'm the only angel here who's been a back-pack angel."

Connor almost chokes on his food. Alana bursts out laughing.

"A what ?"

It's Evan's turn to grin.

"When I was a cub Zec had this weighted vest... It was super thick, so I could claw at it without hurting him. I was always perched on his shoulders."
"He spent a few years being strolled around the Sanctuary because he was too scared to leave Zec's side," Alana explains between two sniggers. "Except that Zec still had to work so he couldn't spend all day with his hands full of baby Evan."
"Backpack angel," Evan concludes, crossing his arms almost proudly.

Connor muffles his laugh behind his hands but there's no denying that it's he weirdest thing he's ever heard, and probably the cutest too. As he calms down, he wonders what cub Evan would have been like. He wonders what he was like, as a cub. Not that it was really that long ago, but it feels like an eternity now. It's almost like Connor lived multiple lives at one, getting him through centuries before throwing him back at a normal pace.

He's glad time got back to normal for this life in particular. He likes this one.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

"How is Tex doing ?" Zec asks idly, a hand on the wheel as he examines the forest around the moving car.
"Not so good," Louis grimaces, "But better than I expected. But she's underweight compared to what she's supposed to be at this point of the pregnancy. It's getting hard to feed her."
"She's probably depressed," Ryan mumbles from the backseat, fidgetting with his camera. "It's barely been a month since Matt-"
"I know," Louis cuts, and there's raw pain in his voice. "At least she doesn't try to hide away when I come to see her."

Zec hums in agreement. The silence is comfortable in the car despite the situation. Ryan sings under his breath the opening of a TV show, clicking buttons here and there on his camera.

"I released the Alphas by the way," Zec says.
"So early ?" Louis eyes him sideways. "The scar is way too fresh... We'll have to be even more attentive."
"It's better for Micha if he's with the Pack," the ranger explains. "You know how he gets when he's inside for too long without distraction."
"Jeremy was distracting him just fine."
"Jeremy needs a fucking break," Ryan mumbles, and Zec can see him roll his eyes in the mirror. "That poor boy is a mess and his mate is the only one keeping him together."
"And that's exactly now that Heidi decides to run off," Zec huffs.

Another silence, quickly broken by the sound of a notification from Louis' phone.

"Holy Mother of-"
"What ?" Ryan asks, passing his messy mop of dreadlocks in-between the front seats.
"This morning I posted a picture of Jared on Instagram," the other explains, flashing his screen at them and Jared appears in all his fluffy glory, "And look at the notes ! There were like, fifty-six likes this morning."
"How many does it have now ?" Zec asks, earning a bright smile.
"Four thousand- no, six thousand, two hundred and thirty-nine !"
"Holy shit," Zec says.
"Oof, nice," Ryan confirms, before laughing. "'I'm Batman' ? Seriously ?"
"Look at the way he's standing and all !" Louis replies exitedly, "With the wings around him like a cape and all ! It's almost like he did it on purpose !"

Zec shakes his head with a new laugh and turns right at the crossroad.

"Maybe we should do an account for the Sanctuary," his best friend suggests.

Zec thinks about it. He thinks about it very hard.

"Maybe we should, yeah."

Chapter Text

Heidi is expecting a lot of things. She knows the outside world isn't a nice place for domesticated angels, and she might have to fight off some members of her own species as well as malevolent humans.

What she doesn't expect, though, it the brutal change of weather. If she wasn't walking with snow up to her calves, she wouldn't believe it. And it is such a shame, really, because she's been following a track for a while, two weeks old but still good enough to be followed, and the storm is reducing her chances to actually find Roman and Karen.

Because this is what it is all about : finding the last lost members of their Pack, be a family once again. It will certainly help Jeremy with the lack of confidence in his own capacities as an Alpha, or at least she hopes it will.

But right now, with snowflakes covering her sore wings and feet slowly turning into ice cubes, she isn't so sure that she thought that through.

___________________________________________________________________________________

There is a loud shout, then a bump, like someone who just threw themselves out of bed. Alana eyes the ceiling of her nest, concerned, even though it's not directly above her head. She takes a second to judge if it's a good idea to get up and look, but then Lewis stirs next to her and she decides to bring him back to his parents while he's still not too squirmish instead.

Later, when the sun is high enough for breakfast time, she notices how Connor's eyes close against his will, how he leans a little against Jared, how he jumps at loud sounds. Christine would say it's not rocket science to figure out that the angel isn't sleeping well. Alana doesn't know what happened to them during Hell Week ; Jeremy refused to talk about it and the rest of the group said it was just emotionally exhausting.

Connor looked fine the day before, though, a little tired maybe, but overall fine. But now ? He's flinching and growling like he sees things happening before his eyes. Evan, too, looks like he hasn't slept a lot, but more of a "I can't help and it's eating me" kind of tired. Alana has no clue what happened.

She catches them whispering to one another later that day, sitting near the pond and poking at the fresh snow. She doesn't stop what she's doing to listen to them ; she knows if they want to tell her what's going on, they will, eventually. She only hears Connor mumbling something about blood before she slips away.

She tries to talk to Jared about it, but the boy is too busy keeping an eye on both the cubs and his parents to really care. So she sits in her den at the end of the day, waiting to see the shadow of Connor climbing perilously the side of the wall up to Evan's nest, waiting to hear terrified screams and soothing whispers, waiting to hear sobs and promises.

She doesn't know what's up with Connor, but she knows that if someone can help him, it's Evan.

___________________________________________________________________________________

...Evan is kind of panicking right now.

He didn't expect to wake up to his nest-mate having a complete breakdown. Connor is freaking out and he doesn't know what to do to even start to help. It's painful to watch, because his friend is just sitting there in with his knees drawn to his chest and breath faltering as he tries to keep his irrational fears under control.

"Do you want me to-- do you need me to call a caretaker ?"

Connor shakes his head and grunts, and okay, that's a no. But the thing is, Evan isn't sure he can do anything in this situation. Grooming and cuddling doesn't really help against a trauma - it does, but not probably not enough.

And right now, all he knows is that Connor needs to chill the fuck out and have a full, not chemical-induced night of sleep. Which is hard, because apparently whenever he closes his eyes he sees blood on his hands, and whenever he tries to sleep he dreams of the human trying to smash his head in return. Endlessly.

And Evan can't help because he doesn't know what to do about it all except repeating that they're safe and nothing is going to happen to them ever again. Which is true, but truth is not enough to fight off the terror and disgust of having a death on the conscience.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Heather hates waiting. Usually, things either go the way she said they would, or they don't happen at all, because Heather Chandler is one scary, intelligent bitch, and she's very aware of that.

(It's a family thing : her cousin Lydia came from the same mold, and God knows what she's been up to, these days - probably overthrowing a government or something, Heather wouldn't put it past her.)

So, waiting in the parking lot for fifteen minutes, when she could use all this precious time to clean the operation room, or do some overdue paperwork, or even go to chill with the cubs ? It's really rubbing her up the wrong way.

Distantly, she acknowledges that her sour mood might come from the fact that the person she's supposed to meet is also playing on the Big Dick Energy field, and Heather doesn't like concurrence. She knows she will have to stay firm and use more diplomacy to what she's used to, for the sake of the angels, in order to keep things... professional, but it doesn't mean she has to like it.

The only reason she didn't try to evict Christine when she first came in the group is because Christine is absolutely non-threatening. Honestly, the young ranger is as menacing as a kitty-shaped cupcake, and Heather kind of wants to protect her at any cost.

"Heather Chandler," someone whistles, and she spins on her heels to greet the newcomer. "If someone told me I would ever receive a call from you, I wouldn't believe them."

No, Christine is absolutely fine. This, on the other hand...

"Veronica," she croons, an icy smile settling on her face. "Thanks for coming."

___________________________________________________________________________________

"So here he is," Louis whispers as he enters the room where Maël is still laying put, a needle in the arm. "We have no idea why he is like that. He just- he got knocked out a few weeks ago and didn't get up since."
"Hmmm," the man nodded, scribbling notes on a small handbook. "And you say all his vitals are all normal ?"
"As far as we're aware. Also, according to some of his pack-mates, he went into stress-heat during that period."
"Well that's not good," the doctor mumbled before putting the notebook and the pen away. "Okay, so that's my idea : I'll come back someday this week with the monitors to make the brain scan. Be assured me and my team will make everything to get this beauty back on its legs."

Louis doesn't flinch at the weird use of pronouns because he knows even specialized angelic surgeons don't always consider angels people. The doctor is already showing himself out, his eyes roaming curiously on the tags by the doors they pass. They eventually reach the main door of the building and they shake hands firmly.

"I will never thank you enough for what you're doing, Dr Alles."
"Please," the other smiles playfully. "I'm just doing my job."

Chapter Text

Connor's heartbeat gets faster before he even opens his eyes. Evan, obviously, is right there by his side, immediately sharp and focused despite waking up less than two seconds ago. Then Connor jolts awake, panic tensing his whole body and hands coming up into view as he looks frantically, Evan knows it, for any trace of blood.

"Hey," he whispers sleepily, his own hand running down Connor's throat, ghosting the scent glands of his wrist over the ones under Connor's ears in a desperate attempt to calm him down. "It's okay, you're okay."
"Fuckin' dammit," Connor groans and rolls to the side, his frame a tangle of limbs and feathers shaking a little as he tries to push himself up.

He looks like a wreck. He smells miserable. Evan is scared that he would crumble if he as much as looks away.

"It's not getting better, is it ?" he sighs, chasing after him to get some warmth back.

Connor shakes his head grimly and sags back against him, burying his nose in the crook of Evan's neck even though he knows he shouldn't give in, for the exact reason that it's Evan, but he does anyway because he's allowed to be weak, if only for tonight. He inhales deeply, the pungent scent of stress and anxiety that he eventually associated with the blond angel still present, but barely covering his actual scent at this point. It's soft, natural. It smells like home.

It grounds him, more than he cares to admit.

He's exhausted. Between the snow, the nightmares and Heidi's run for freedom, Connor is all over the place and doesn't seem to find a way to pull himself back together. At least Evan isn't going anywhere. Not to be dramatic, but he would probably die on the spot if he did.

The smaller angel pulls them back down in the mess of fabric and hay, where the heating pad the rangers gave them is warming the nest, and it's a little bit better. Until it isn't, because Connor shifts to get more room for his splint, and the stiff fabric of their overalls rubs in all the wrong places. He huffs, propping himself back up on his elbows, and says :

"Get it off."
"What ?"

If it wasn't so dark in their den, Connor could swear Evan is blushing.

"Your overall. It's in the way, take it off."

Evan takes a very long second to react, to the point where Connor wonders if he isn't just going to say no, but then he hears the click of the braces coming off. It's like he can breathe again. When he lays back down against him, all he meets is smooth skin, and it's perfect.

"I guess that's better ?" Evan chuckles breathlessly when he starts to purr.
"Sleeping," Connor replies simply between two rumbles, and the other curls up around him like a protective blanket.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Heidi considers herself as someone with a high level of tolerance. Pain, extreme temperatures, annoyance, she knows she can take a lot. But there are just things that rub her fluff the wrong way.

One of these things being enslaved angels.

Hidden in the highest branches of a tree, she lets her eyes roam all over the scene in front of her. The ground is covered in a thick layer of snow, sticky and heavy, and so is the miserable kennel in the middle of a tumbledown backyard. And in the middle of all this snow, behold : a chained cub, shaking from head to toes as their wings barely cover their tiny body.

She take a better look at them : the cub has long, matted dark hair that falls in their eyes and chews their curved claws - another sign that no-one groomed them in a long time, if ever.

Heidi feels her heart fill with cold rage. It's already so complicated to protect cubs until they become adults, and whoever is in care of this one abandonned them in the middle of a storm, chained to a bunch of rotting wood.

The door from the run-down house fly open, slamming against the wall and bouncing back, almost in the face of the woman stepping out on the porch. In a similar fashion of her house, she's bedraggled, her hair tied in a mess on top of her head and her clothes hanging loose on her frame. She takes long steps towards the baby angel and grabs them by the arm, pulling them on their feet and back inside.

There is nothing soft in the gesture, on the contrary, there's only the will to hurt, to punish the kid for whatever reason, and it's enough for Heidi to know there is going to be one less human on Earth by the time the night falls.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Ezra is moping in the hallway leading to the infirmary when Zec finds him.

"Hey kiddo, what's eating you ?" he asks, and the Nephilim jumps a little, like he didn't hear him come.
"Nothing," Ezra sighs, annoyed, and Zec can't tell if it's at him or at something else. "I'm getting crazy, I think. I smell things that aren't here."

Zec frowns but doesn't push further. Instead, he gestures at him to follow and they make their way down to the territory. Ezra's eyes lit up when he notices the snow : obviously, with his infection and all, the poor kid had to stay inside and rest, but now that he's good...

"Hey, Christine is teaching class today," the ranger points out, "and most of the cubs are with her. Wanna join ?"

Ezra slowly shakes his head, leaning unconsciously closer to Zec. Alright then.

"Okay, spit it out, Ez," Zec kneels in front of him. "What's the matter ?"

The Nephilim tightens the three blankets around him and shifts on his feet. Eventually, he grumbles something under his breath.

"What's that ?"
"I don't speak enochian. I don't-- half of the time I have no idea what Christine is talking about."

Zec can't help but laugh.

"Don't worry, we can ask her to do the class in english for once, I'm sure she won't mind."

The kid shrugs and pushes his blonde hair out of his face. For a second, his eyes wander around the Sanctuary, as if he's looking for someone, but then it comes back to Zec.

"Okay. Sure."
"Yeah ?"
"Yeah, let's do it."

The ranger leads him towards the base of the wall, to the circle of stones where Christine likes to sit to teach her class. Tora and Lewis are chatting fast, chirping and clicking their tongues, occasionally adding a signed word for emphasis. Christine herself is sitting on Jeremy's lap as he's grooming her hair, while a very disgruntled Michael is curled up not very far, eyeing the snow in distrust.

Ezra clears his throat and goes to sit discreetly at the edge of the circle. If the angels see him, they don't show any sign of coming closer. Or kicking him out, for that matter.

It's good enough for Zec. Because Claire and Jesus are out watching for Heidi, Louis is the one joining him on lunch duty. As he keeps an eye on Connor, who's slowly making his way down from his nest with Evan flying worriedly under him, he listens to his best friend telling him about the doctor that came to see Maël.

"Hey," he interrupts, "Do they look like they slept, to you ?"

Louis purses his lips and shakes his head.

"Nope, and not in the good way, honestly. Connor looks like crap."
"Heather said something about the new psy ?"
"They're debriefing in one of the offices. They'll come around by the end of the day."

Jared somehow manages to steal one of the plastic trails, and with Alana hot on his heels they join the boys near the pond. The four of them stay away, for once, and Zec really wonders what they could be telling each other.

___________________________________________________________________________________

"You know what we need ? Bigger nests," Jared says with a snap of his fingers.
"Our nests are perfect the way they are."
"Alana, no offense but you haven't been sleeping with anyone but the cubs, recently, so your idea of a correct nest size isn't the same as mine."

There is a loud crunch from where Connor is breaking a cucumber in half on his knee, and then they keep on eating in silence. Until Evan shakes his head, the look of the one who kept thinking about it, and says :

"No, we don't need bigger nests, need more of them."
"That would leave even less space to move around," Alana argues.
"What about bigger dens ?" Connor proposes, handing the cucumber over to Jared and Evan.
"Where would you put them ? It's not like the nest wall is infinite."
"How the fuck do they do that, outside ?" Jared grumbles.

It takes Connor a few seconds to understand that it's directed to him, but when no one answers he looks up and meets tree pairs of curious eyes.

"Why are you looking at me like that ?"
"You're the only one of us who was out long enough to remember," Evan explains.

The taller angel huffs and takes the time to chew down his piece of fish.

"I guess wild angels would migrate when their current territory becomes too small. But it's not like my original pack was all that big to begin with, so I don't think we would have moved for a while."

Evan and Jared exchange a look.

"I mean, we are getting cramped around here..."
"And with Tex expecting, it's not going to get better," Alana sighs, picking at her claws.
"I'm not even sure we have any more room in the wall," Jared hums, his eyebrows disappearing thoughfully in his hairline.
"...Do you guys think we could..." Evan trails off.
"Leave the dome ?" Jared completes.
"I mean, it costs nothing to ask," Connor shrugs.
"And it's not like we would go very far, I mean," the blond angel continues, "That's our home. We aren't going to wander off."

A doubt suddenly strikes Alana.

"Hey, do you think the dome is supposed to keep things out ? ...Or keep us in ?"

A new silence. Then :

"Nah. Naaaaah, they wouldn't."
"No, you're right, they wouldn't. It's to protect us, nothing else."
"yep. To keep things out, definitely."
"Not that it did a very good job last time, but hey."
"Not that it does a very good job at keeping us in either."
"Right."

Chapter Text

When Connor is sitting with his head thrown back, absorbing in the sunlight like there's no tomorrow, it's the perfect time for Evan to openly stare without feeling too bad about it.

Maybe it's about how the light hits him, or how peaceful he looks as he sits in the snow, not caring about his slowly soaking overalls. Maybe it's about the way he closes his eyes blissfully, like he's finally at peace with the world. Maybe it's just Evan's eyes not seeing straight.

He is sitting by himself in a tree, not very far from where Connor is sun-bathing. Alana is off somewhere with Christine. He doesn't know where Jared is.

He's not sure he cares, either.

Because he knows if they were here, they would have a field trip making fun of him. He already knows he's ridiculous, and maybe even a little creepy, he doesn't need their input on the matter - but he can't stop looking at Connor. It's just- there's something about him - everything about him, really - that makes Evan's heart beat so hard.

He doesn't know what it is. Is it how healthier he looks since he first joined the pack ? Is it how shiny his hair and feathers have become ? Is it about the fading scars all over his body and the left side of his face, that Evan wants to trace with his fingertips ? What is it ? What is it ? There's obviously something. There must be something that makes him like Connor so much.

Also there's that. He likes Connor.

It hit him like a wall one night, a slap in the face he wasn't expecting. It's been a few day, and he still finds himself dumbstruck about it.

He likes sleepy Connor, who asks for five more minutes and unconsciously cuddles. He likes salty Connor, who can murder Jared in two sentences. He likes Connor crying in the dead of the night, silent but clinging to him and trusting him to never let go. He likes genuinely happy Connor, who just got a piece of rabbit. He likes the fake-disgruntled Connor who glares at Zec for trying to befriend him. He likes exhausted Connor who some days can barely get out of the nest. He likes flustered Connor with a lap full of cubs.

He likes secretive Connor, when they're just by themselves.

He likes Connor with any mask he throws on and he likes Connor at his barest.

And that might be a problem.

Because he feels like he's falling, a little faster every second, and he's afraid of how much it will hurt once he reaches the ground. He wonders if the ground will ever come up, or he'll keep having stomach twists and a fluttering heart. He's falling for Connor and it's ruining him for anyone else. Not that he even cares for anyone else - that's how far he's gone already. And that's horrible, terrible really, because Connor is his friend, Connor is this tall and gloomy and messy and awesome angel who deserves the world and Evan just... can't give it to him.

Because Evan is just Evan, and it will never be enough.

Because he's just a tamed angel who never saw the outside. He's just a leech living by procuration. He's not good enough to protect or help. He's not worth it for someone like Connor.

He's glad to have him around, truly. He's so grateful to have someone to share a nest with. He's happy to have someone to share inside jokes with. He's so happy, in fact, that he might cry. He's so fucking delighted to have Connor in his life, because it's a blessing to have someone like that around. Evan is the happiest he's even been in years, and he's crying about it like a loser.

So what if he likes to cuddle with Connor when there is no more light around ? What if he made an habit to divide every portion of his food in half just to be sure he had something to eat ? What if he wants to run his fingers on every little and larger scar until he can map his skin in his mind without effort ? What if he decides that no matter what happens once he's hitting the ground, or six feet under, or a bunch of dust in the wind, or a distant memory, it would have been worth it ?

So what if he allows himself to be selfish, just for a little while, just a little longer ?

He knows, deep down, that it's not the fall that'll kill him, but the landing. He knows he will break all his bones and cry in pain. He knows it'll hurt like all Hell. But until then, until he smashes himself into the ground, he's fine. He can live with that feeling.

Connor sneezes and it startles Evan out of his own mind, and he almost falls from his tree, catching his friend's attention when he flails to regain his stability. Connor laughs. Evan blushes and his heart skips a beat.

... Shit, he might be in it deeper than he thought.

"You okay up there, night bird ?" Connor teases, and Evan shows him his teeth before sticking his tongue out.
"You scared me."
"Come on, I wasn't that loud," the other rolls his eyes, stepping closer, but not too close - the trees still make him uneasy.

He's about to add something but is cut by the distant, muffled, indignant screech of Michael freezing his ass off, followed by a wheezing laugh from Jeremy. Connor fails at hiding his smile.

"Hey, I want to go to the pond, you're coming ?"
"Fresh fish and your company ?" Evan jokes. "Always."

And, yeah, okay. Maybe Evan is fine with falling. Maybe he's getting used to it, in a way. He already broke an arm from it, after all.

(Not very far from here, three angels exchange a flat look. Jared sighs dramatically, Phil chuckles and Jasper shakes his head. Their friends are dense, thick-headed dumbasses.)

___________________________________________________________________________________

The taste of blood lingers on Heidi's tongue, dries her throat and fills her nose.

Her ears are ringing. For a moment, she completely forgets why she's here, in the hallway that hasn't been built for an adult angel, with blood splattered all over the walls, all over her face, all over her hands.

Right. Right, okay, she remembers now : the panicked cries of the baby, the angry shouts of the lady, the door breaking under Heidi's weights as she makes her way in the room-

Right, fuck, the child.

She rushes to the side of the bed, stepping over the body cooling down on the carpet, and slices off the restrains keeping the kid quartered across the mattress. If Zec was there, he would say there's a religious metaphor in here somewhere.

"It's okay, baby," she coos as she cuts the plastic ties, trying to soother the child's panicked sobs. "It's over now, you're alright. She won't hurt you anymore."

But the cub doesn't stop their whining, doesn't even seem to register her voice, or presence at all. The thick, matted strands are obstructing their vision, and she doesn't want to move it out of the way in case it pulls on something the wrong way.

They're incredibly small, she realizes as she picks them up and they pretty much fit whole in her hand. Their wings too, a dusty grey, are underdeveloped, almost too short for their body and weight. Teeth are good, though, she notices, not even wincing when tiny fangs dig in her finger, but she pulls away and the cub starts crying again, scenting the room with panic and pain so strongly that it covers the smell of blood.

"It's okay, it's okay," Heidi whispers, rocking them gently while she leaves the house, and then once they're back in the backyard she put them down for a minute to rub away the blood with a handful of snow. "It's alright, little one, it's your turn now, let's get you cleaned up and warm."

She picks back up the trembling - and thankfully no longer whining - cub from the ground, cleaning away the large crimson handprint she left on them. The child finally makes eye contact, their slit pupils barely visible in the center of their dark irises, but at least they're acknowledging her presence. They fix each other for maybe a whole minute before the cub grows disinterested and looks back to the ground. She sighs as she rubs them and tries to warm them despite all the wiggling and escaping her grip.

"What am I going to do with you ?" she asks, knowing full well that she isn't leaving such a young cub out there by themselves, but also very aware that she still needs to find her two missing packmates.

In the end, the cold and the hunger must get the better of the cub because they curl up against her chest and yawn, clearly not going anywhere. She smiles down at them, the picture of baby Evan in the exact same position superimposing over for a short second.

Heidi curls up a wing to keep the warm in her embrace, and jumps the fence once again.

___________________________________________________________________________________

"You don't have boobs," Christine says out of the blue, her papers dropping back on her lap.

Alana looks up from the rubik's cube she's been solving with a frown.

"What ?" she asks, rising an eyebrow.
"Boobs," Christine insists, eventually pointing at her own chest, and the angel nods with a 'aaah'. "You don't have any. And any other female of the pack. It's stupid, maybe, but I never noticed before."
"I'm not even sure why humans have them in the first place," Alana replies. "What's even the objective here ? Beside being squishy."

Christine sinks a little lower in the temporary nest and glances over at Maël - the comatose angel didn't move an inch since they first settled him in the big room in the hospital wing. Her eyes go back to Alana, sitting across her in the nest, who has no reason to be backstage except because Christine wanted her around, but who somehow managed to sneak out anyway.

"It's to produce milk," she finally explains, and the black angel frowns a little in disgust, but it only motivates her to get further into the topic. "Babies need the milk to grow up fast and strengthen their immune system."

She signs the last two words as her tongue can't quite get the twist of it in enochian, and it makes Alana sit up in interest, her puzzle completely forgotten.

"That's... incredibly ineffective. Have you ever seen a newborn cub ?"
"Not in real life, no."
"They're born with teeth," the angel grimaces as she says that, showing off a very sharp canine. "And claws. Cubs are could hunt roughly a day after they're born, if the parents don't provide the food."
"Wait, seriously ?"
"Yes ! How long does it take for a human cub to do that ?"

Christine thinks about it. Then she thinks about it some more.

"Well, technically... Oh God, I can't even begin to explain to you how baby humans grow," Christine sighs, rubbing her temples. "They're completely dependent until they're twelve or so, and even then they're not really able to do anything by themselves- even though I have to admit it has more to do with how our society work and less about a child's capacity to provide for themself."
"Twelve ? That's..."
"That's how old you are right now."
"What ?" Alana tilts her head in confusion. "But I'm almost an adult, I don't... Oh no wait, I get it, humans grow slower."
"I guess that's it. You and your friends gew up so much since I first came here, and it's been what, six months ? Seven ?"
"Christine, I have absolutely no concept of time outside of days, weeks and seasons. I don't know what you're talking about and I'm almost thinking you're making up things to confuse me."

Christine bursts into genuine laughing, and when she manages to stop Alana is glaring at her, unimpressed.

"Anyways," the angel sighs and settles back in the nest, both wings tilted upward and flushed against the wall, "There's a thing I don't get about you, humans. As a species, I mean."
"Shoot, what's up ?"
"...If milk is needed for the cubs how comes your males don't have the... 'boobs' ?"

At that Christine has to stop laughing altogether. She looks down at the black claws on Alana's foot, at how very close of her thigh it is, and she's suddenly very, very aware that she's sharing a bonding moment with an apex predator whose only menace is... her.

"I see why you get confused. The thing is, in biology there is this thing called hermaphrodism," once again, she signs the last word and Alana repeats it quietly, her fingers twitching as she copies the word. "All of you angels, unless for some exceptional medical conditions, are hermaphodites. Humans... are not."

She stops, tries to find her words, looks back at Alana who is staring at her the way she does when she's learning something new.

"Again, except for some particular cases, most of humanity have either an uterus or a penis, and..." she blushes, "Look, I'm no scientist and it's absolutely not my area of expertise, but basically only people with the right dispositions, which means an uterus and a bunch of other stuff, genetically speaking, can bear children."
"Wait wait wait so," Alana cuts in, pinching the bridge of her nose, "You, for example, you could be... with a child ?"
"Sure," Christine shrugs. "If I meet the right partner and it's the right time etcetera etcetera."
"This is absurd. It's not efficient at all !"
"I know, it's completely ridiculous. And don't get me started on the importance of sexualities and genders in our society because we'd be here all night."

The angel burrows her face in her hands and lets out a muffled scream.

"I'm okay," she mumbles when Christine looks at her worriedly. "It's terrible anatomic management, that's what it is. Humans are very confusing, and are very poorly designed, I hope you're aware of that."
"Believe me, I am very away of that fact."
"This is just... Why don't you just align with whatever comes first ?"

Christine tilts her head.

"What do you mean ?"

It's Alana's turn to blush, but she tries to hide it behind her ruffled feathers.

"Both sets of genitalia don't develop at the same time - generally we align with whatever came first. You're a guy or a girl. Or, if you happen to grow both in the same time laps, you're neutral."
"Okay but what happens if... For example, you feel more like a guy, despite presenting as a girl ?"
"It's not even a possibility, because... I'm both ? It's just-" Alana sighs. "You don't need a transition to something you already are. And that's probably what you meant by the importance of genders, right ? Angels don't have gender roles. We don't need them."
"Instead you have Pack dynamics," Christine aws.
"Well, health status and then Pack dynamics, but yes."
"You know," the young translater nods to herself, her notes spilled on her lap, "human society would be a whole lot better if men had to carry the children too. And I mean "men" as a social construct, not as someone with a dick."

Alana chuckles and sends he Rubik's cube rolling towards her friend. Christine picks it up and inspects it. All six faces are neatly aligned by color.

"It's really just that easy, uh," she mumbles. "Except that for us, it's more of an unsolved Rubik's cube, where everything is everywhere and if you're lucky, you might have two squares of the same color side to side."
"You guys tend to hunt pretty much anything different," Alana shrugs. "I'm not surprised to see that even inside your own group you can't seem to get along."
"Yeah, but we're trying."

The silence that settles after that isn't uncomfortable. It's the kind of silence that doesn't really need to be filled, but that Christine breaks anyway :

"Another fun fact about humans : unlike you, we don't have retractable dicks."
"Chris what the fuck-"

Chapter Text

Louis comes back from patrol around midnight. He doesn't expect anyone to be around, except maybe for Christine who's on camera duty. The hallways of the hospital wing is empty as he goes to check on Tex ; it's a little unnerving, in the way only empty hospitals are at night. He takes a deep breath and enters the cell.

Texeira eats, at least. He's not sure what caused it - maybe she wasn't so fond of starvation, after all. Maybe he managed to convince her somehow. He doesn't know, and he's honestly too tired to care. Tex eats : it's all he really needs to know.

It's on his way to the staff room that he meets someone. Ezra is asleep on a plastic chair in front of the bay window, rolled up in blankets like an overweight burrito, and the brain doctor - Louis is pretty sure his name is Alec or something - is looming over him with intense, almost creepy attention.

"Can I help you ?" he coughs, because the doctor didn't seem to notice him the first time.

The man nearly jumps, eyes wide and a hand on his chest. It would be dramatic if it wasn't so genuine.

"I- uh- I didn't expect anyone to be around at this hour !"
"Same here," Louis deadpans before glancing between the doc and the child. "You know Ezra ?"
"Oh no, no no no no, I just, hum, it's fairly rare to stumble across a Nephilim these days, you know how it is..." the old man rambles, and Alles, his name is Alles.
"Not really," the ranger replies, inching closer toward the kid because he might be a dumbass sometimes but he can tell when something's fishy. "Half the staff is at some degree mixed blood. It's not that weird."
"Weird, not weird," Alles shakes his head and takes a step back, eyeing the nearest door with need, "Just- they hide themselves, usually, in the population."
"Some are good at passing," Louis shrugs before putting a hand on Ezra's shoulder. "Do you mind ? I'd rather have him sleeping in a bed than out there."
"Oh yes, yes, sure, absolutely, I will- be somewhere over there then."

And with that, Dr Alles is out, and Louis is left with the weird feeling of subtext he didn't quite catch. He wakes up Ezra, escorts him to his room, then goes back to his nightly routine. He doesn't comment when the new therapist leaves the janitor's closet looking slightly tousled, but he doesn't fail to wiggle his eyebrows at Heather as she leaves the exact same room five seconds later, her usually impeccable hair out of her ponytail. She winks at him with a knowing look - a shared secret, that he's not supposed to spill around.

Sometimes Louis is glad to be ace. He doesn't have to deal with ennemies-to-friends-to-lovers nonsense.

When he finally, finally reaches the camera room, Christine is watching a video on her phone and barely glances up when the door clicks behind him.

"Danny came out as Nephilim," she tells him, and his vague knowledge of the Youtube game leads him to think it might be a big thing.

He sighs. Yep, definitely a subtext here somewhere.

___________________________________________________________________________________

The one time Connor manages to get some actual sleep, it's Evan's turn to have a nightmare.

The morning light is already warming the sky, uncertain and pale but definitely coming around the corner, and Connor can't seem to calm his packmate. It's been hours, hours of scenting, of covering the acid smell of raw panic, of gentle words falling into ears that won't listen, of cuddling a ball of nerves that doesn't show any sign of getting better.

Evan keeps muttering about his mom, and Connor grows more and more painfully aware that he can't provide what is needed. He's no Beta. He's just a stupid Omega with a broken wing.

It's not enough, it's not nearly enough.

He wonders if it'll ever be.

All he can do is his best, and wait for the storm in Evan's head to calm down a little.

It's when he wakes up again later that he realizes he fell asleep in the first place. His back muscles are killing him, but he doesn't move. Evan is somewhere on his right, not up but not asleep either, and scoots closer when he notices that Connor's awake too. They don't talk about it. It became a rule after Connor's third night terror : they don't talk about it and they don't act like it happened and they don't tell others. It's no one's nocturnal business but their own.

Instead Evan snakes an arm around Connor's chest and runs his fingers through the fluff at the base of the wounded wing. Connor stacks his head on top of the other's and closes his eyes. He knows it grounds the younger angel, to keep his hands busy. He's not going to complain about being on the receiving end of such attention.

It's cold outside of the den. The kind of cold that doesn't make articulations painful, though. The kind that's bearable. Enjoyable, even. Except if you're a specific brown Alpha from a hot country.

If he listens carefully, he can hear Michael pester in the distance - maybe all the way from the edge of the ring, even. Alana is rummaging in her own nest, right under them, humming a word-less song under her breath. Zec is at the lunch spot feeding the cubs. Not all of them, he notices : Chuck's voice is absent. Somewhere at the base of the wall, Jasper and Fergus are riding the latter's heat with happy little noises. Connor makes an effort to redirect his attention.

Evan's stomach makes a low rumble, but he doesn't show any sign of moving any time soon, and Connor can't have that. No matter how little they sleep, he always makes a point to eat the next day. He's not going to let Evan starve himself until Heidi comes back.

So he tugs away and sits up in the nest, although reluctantly, and royally ignores the sad whine Evan makes. The taller angel grabs his hand still up in the air and pulls him up on his feet, out of the warm nest and into the fresh morning.

"Let's go," he says, and Evan gives up on this little game of tug and goes.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Zec sees his two favorites comes down carefully from the top nest with barely hidden glee : it's been a while since the two of them got up this early. He still has this pang of fear when Connor slips a little, his lack of claws be damned, but so far he's always made it to the ground.

"Hey boys," he salutes them, and Evan smiles wide and comes to sit by his side, the other keeping an unsurprising safety distance. "How are you doing ?"

Evan's face crunches up, eyes lingering on the main door, but quickly come back to the trail. Zec hands him a granola bar and half a mango. Connor, now surrounded by the twins, licks his fingers clean from the snow in disinterest, but his frequent glances towards the fruits betrays him. Zec smiles.

"I got pears !"

Connor's head perks up, more because of the volume than because of the actual word, and Evan hides a smile before translating. The other stands up despite the cubs' protests who had started to climb him, and he makes his way close, closer, and oh God Zec really should wear glasses because he has a problem with size estimations. He hasn't seen Connor up close in a while, and it looks like he's still growing up. He's slumped forward, but somehow still towers over the ranger, shoulders and up.

Zec, deep down, knows that anyone else would have the shit scared out of them from being stared down like that by such a tall creature, but he knows better. He sees the way he stands, a little hunched, a little unsure, and he knows he's trying his best not to look like a threat. He sees how the dark long hair dangles over the marks on his face, and he knows where they come from. He sees how his wings are tense, but not about to take him away if necessary. He sees it all, and he recognizes it, and that's what makes him fearless.

So he smiles again and hands three big yellow pears at this tall creature that's so much like a person but so incredibly alien at the same time, and says :

"Here. I bought these this morning. Bon appétit."

Connor takes them, and for half a second his fingers brush against the back of Zec's hands. Zec is reminded every day that he's only allowed to work with angels - they could rip his throat out or break his arms in a blink. But even Connor, who takes great pride in not needing humans' help, doesn't as much as show his teeth in warning every once in a while.

Connor blinks at him and then the contact breaks, and the two young angels clear off.

Zec sighs and looks at the cubs, who are trying to climb him now instead to reach the tray. They're getting big too - Tora almost reaches his armpit. Zec feels incredibly vulnerable around these gentle giants. And lucky. He is welcome. He is Pack.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Evan has a problem.

Evan has a big problem he can break down in three words : Connor. Teeth. Pears.

It shouldn't be hot. It really shouldn't. And yet, he is staring at him munching happily on his sugary treat - maybe Zec should know that this is Connor's special treat - like he can't get enough of the picture.

He really can't.

He also can't stop thinking of what those teeth would fee like on skin, say, on his neck.

Okay, nope, no, absolutely not. He is NOT going there. He is not thinking of getting a mating bite from one of his best friends. No. Back off.

Connor's still eating his fruits, unbothered by Evan openly (and potentially open-mouthed) staring at him, but he stops a couple of times to dry off the juice dribbling down his chin. Evan kinda wants to cleans it off for him. With his tongue.

His eyes linger on Connor's hands, on how his fingers are wrapped around the pear to keep it from sliping away. Evan wonders if Connor could leave claw marks. Like, if he really wanted to. It would probably be more like, finger marks, or whatever.

Connor's tongue flickers out of his mouth to clean off said fingers. Evan feels hot all over despite the thick layer of snow he's sitting in.

Gods. What did he get himself into this time ?

___________________________________________________________________________________

Heidi is lost. Again.

At this point it isn't even funny anymore, it's just plain ridiculous. She's been doing rounds and rounds in the forest, coming close to human towns a few times already. And here she is now. In the sewers. Because the cub was cold, and Heidi was cold, and there was no way they would survive one more night in the snow.

It's barely warmer, in here, and definitely more agressive, olfactively speaking. The cub wriggles in her grasp, making disgusted faces at the scent ; at least she isn't shivering anymore.

Heidi is hungry. She's tired, soaked in cold snow, and she's lost in the sewers of a town she doesn't know. She wants to come home already. She wants to see her Alphas and her son and her son's soon-to-be-mate. She wonders if these two sorted their shit together yet. She hopes so. It would be less painful to watch than those two pining idiots beating around the bush.

But she also wants to find Roman and Karen. She wants to take them back home, where it's safe and there's food. She wants to be a good Beta and make sure her whole Pack is alright.

The little girl wiggles around, making the grip on her more and more complicated to hold. She, too, grows more exhausted with every halt. At least she has stopped fighting Heidi at every move.

She doesn't speak enochian. Or English. Or any language that could allow her to share her emotions. She's been cut from angels too soon, and for too long. She's a year old, maybe two : too young for memories to fix completely in her mind. Heidi isn't sure the cub can remember her parents.

She is absolutely tiny. Heidi, if it wasn't for her habit of taking care of the Pack's cubs, would be terrorized at the idea of squishing her to death between her hands. Such a small creature. Baby.

The smell is getting worse as they get deeper in the sewing system. It's probably not a good idea, considering Heidi's sense of orientation, but at this point everything is better than snow. Even dubious contents in the liquid sloshing right next to her feet.

It's getting dark.

The cub stopped struggling.

Heidi is tired.

Chapter Text

It's crazy what one is able to get used to - should it be bad treatment or extreme conditions. Heidi didn't expect to forget about the pestilence around her, and yet she doesn't smell it anymore. To be fair, she can't smell anything. Everything is muted from the invasive acidic smell of waste.

That's why she doesn't realize something is coming their way. Something that has been in the sewers for way longer than her and her protegee. Something that has, too, a little life to protect.

There is a hiss coming from the darkness or a corner, the glint of two golden eyes and-

Her reflexes are what saves her. Before she thinks about it she jumps backwards, the cub safely tuck against her chest and her wings puffed up in warning. It's too dark to see what's attacking her, but it's dirty and large, almost as big as her. It hisses at her and she growls back showing off her teeth and making herself as tall as she can, but it doesn't stop her opponent from attacking her again.

She jumps away, again, landing in the nauseating water. The baby is screaming bloody murder but she can't care for them right now as the creature steps out of the shadows and they all freeze.

"Heidi ?" it calls incredulously, clambering back on its legs from the all-four position it was, and the Beta has to make an active effort not to whine.

"Oh. Oh no," she whispers, and comes to take a closer look. "Roman, what happened to you ?"

___________________________________________________________________________________

"So, kids !" Christine squeals happily in enochian, waving around like a windmill as the cubs and the few willing adults settle around her. "Today's important, we're not doing a lesson !"

Tora pouts and Chuck starts to protest along with Jeremy, but then the ranger gestures at the second figure and they shut up. It's a young lady wearing all blue, standing rigid in the middle of the group as she's probably not used to see angels so close, her black braid a crown on top of her head. She gives them a tense but sweet smile.

"Let me introduce you to Veronica Sawyer, she's... kind of a doctor. She's here to help when your head gets too full."

Evan raises an eyebrow from the edge of the group, and Rosa and Phil starts whispering at the front. This might be a good thing. Christine claps her hands together.

"So, yeah. Be nice to her. She speaks sign language and she understands a bit of enochian."

Jeremy is the first to get up and closer, way too close in Veronica's opinion if the way she tenses is anything to go by, but the Alpha looks at her up and down and sends a gentle scent wave in her direction as a welcome as well as a warning. This human is welcomed on the territory but it's still a human. Michael and Jared, who have been cuddling not very far from Christine, are eyeing the scene warily. They're growing suspicious of any human who isn't Pack, these days, but if Jeremy seems open to idea enough to allow his Gammas around the newcomer, it's probably alright.

Not very far from here, sitting by the main door, Alana looks up at Heather who's pretending to do paperwork on a clipboard, but whose eyes keep coming back to the blue gal.

"You smell like her," Alana signs, a knowing smirk threatening to break on her face.
"Shut it," the blonde ranger grunts and glares up at the dome like it personally offended her.

Alana snickers but doesn't push further.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Zec is checking the camera feed when Louis enters with a dramatic sigh and a whole bunch of paper in his arms.

"Guess who had to sit through two hours of the boss going on and on about the TV show ?"

Zec winces despite his best friend's playful tone.

"Sorry. I didn't think they would get on board with the idea so soon."
"Don't worry about it, we still have a good week or two before they take any decision," the doctor hums and drops his document on the table. "What we should worry about, on the other hand, is Alles."
"Alles ? The neurosurgeon ? What's wrong with him ?"

Louis rubs the back of his neck with a grunt and he shakes his head.

"I dunno. The dude is weird. I've caught him staring at Ezra when the kid was asleep in the hallway the other night, and... It's been messing with my head. Where does he even come from ?"
"We asked for someone who knew about angel brains," Zec says, his eyebrows progressively knotting together. "He was the first to answer."
"He didn't do much with Maël," Louis continues. "No tests, no scans, nothing. I start to wonder if he really knows what he's doing."
"...You know, Ezra did say something about smelling things that couldn't be here. And from what he told us, his guardian used to work with a doctor. You don't think..?" he trails off, Louis' eyes widening as realization downs on both of them. "Shit. Fuck, okay, hum, I'm getting the kid, you find Alles," he stammers, hurling himself out of his seat.
"Fuck, goddammit, we're so stupid," the blond hisses, and the room is rapidly deserted, the door slamming violently behind them.

___________________________________________________________________________________

"Fuck off or I scream," Ezra warns, but his trembling voice doesn't do much to rest his case.
"Oh come one now," Alles all but laughs, clearly enjoying the panic he's causing to the Nephilim. "Be a good boy and get here, I'm sure your dad will be very happy to see you."
"Fuck. Off," the kids insists and pulls his blankets closer to his body like a makeshift armor.
"Don't make me force you," the doctor warns, "it won't be pretty."

Ezra carefully avoids glancing at the door, or at the unmoving form of Maël in one of the nests. He keeps his eyes firmly on the man, ready to bolt at the first occasion.

"Let's go, you dumb bitch," Alles' smile falls and his sight hardens, and he makes a gesture in his direction. "Rossi has my money and he's not going to give it if I don't find a way to repay the damages you did."

Ezra takes a step back, feels the bars of the hospital bed digging in his back - his bed, since he doesn't know how to use a nest, that Zec had put up for him. God, if only Zec could appear right now...

"Trevor died because of your little stunt," Alles continues, closing the distance between them again. "Did you know that ? Look at me. One of your kind killed Trevor. His death is on you, you little freak. Now come here !"
"No !" Ezra shrieks as a heavy hand lands on his shoulder, and the growl that leaves his throat is the most bestial noise he ever made, but he doesn't have the time to dwell on it because the same hand slaps him across the face and sends him flying to the ground.

His vision gets blurry, and the taste of blood and bile rises in his mouth.

"Why your dad had such affection for your sorry ass is above me," the doctor grumbles, gripping Ezra by the arm hard enough to leave bruises, but the Nephilim is too stunned to react.

He feels himself being dragged on the floor and towards the door, and panic fills him. He can't leave. He can't be brought back. Father will kill him. He's going to die.

"Get off," he growls, the louder when Alles doesn't seem to hear him, "Get off !"

His teeth dig in the closest thing he can reach, and it happens to be the doctor's wrist. Ezra snaps his jaw, getting twisted satisfaction out of the sickening crunch of bone and the howl of pain as a result.

"I should have pulled your teeth out along with your wings when I had the occasion !" the other bellows and kicks the kid off him, landing a knee in his gut. "Get up !"

Ezra is pulled on his feet once again and he has to fight not to vomit, and the room is spinning, and he has blood on his teeth and--

A loud bang fills the room and for a second he wonders if he got shot, if Alles has a gun he didn't see, counts the seconds leading to a burst of pain.

But it doesn't come.

What comes instead is Zec, panting heavily and holding what Ezra knows for sure is Heather's shotgun, followed by Louis on the phone and Jesus and Ryan, big and scary and ready to intervene.

Alles side-eyes the Nephilim, but the latter has already hidden under a table, out of reach, heaving and glaring daggers at him. The doctor looks down at himself, at the red flower blooming on the calf of his pants, at the carmin dripping down his hand, and sighs.

This isn't a good day for angel trafficking.

Chapter Text

Ezra doesn't leave Zec's side for the rest of the day.

The Nephilim has gone completely non-verbal, sticking to him like a second shadow and refusing to stay alone for more than a couple of minutes.

And Zec understands, really - or at least he tries to. Ezra got attacked into the place he had been assured he'd be safe, that ought to shake his world a little. But the thing is, Zec has things to do, papers to fill, grocery shopping to run, medical check-ups to complete, and he can't do any of this with a scared Nephilim clutched to his uniform. Ezra is therefore promptly dropped in Connor's lap, and Zec tries to ignore the outraged glare the angel shoots him before he disappears again in the building, promising to come back by the time the evening comes.

Connor doesn't stop glaring at the main door. Evan, who's been playing with the velcro on his splint, makes a weird face and scoots closer to look at Ezra under every angle.

"What's wrong with him ?" he asks Connor, who has instinctively curled up around the bundle of blankets.
"I dunno, but he reeks."

Evan sniffs the air and recoils a little.

"Yeah, t-that's pretty bad."

But Ezra doesn't look hurt, or maybe it's under all the blankets, so Evan does the only thing he knows he's good at : he starts grooming the Nephilim. The blond kid goes immediately limp in Connor's arms, nervousness leaving his body at once. The tall angel looks confused for a second, before shaking himself and gently bumping into his best friend who's suddenly crowding his personal space.

"He kind of looks like my sister," he says, and Evan raises an eyebrow, fingers still working their way in Ezra's thick hair.
"Your sister..? You never mentioned her before," he says, rising his wings in an attempt to shield the other two from the white glare of the winter sun. "Your littermate ?"

Connor shakes his head, leaning a little closer and squinting at the sudden change of light.

"Younger than me. My mom used to say we looked a lot like each-other, but... yeah. Ezra has the same expression."

Evan hums quietly, claws scraping gently against the Nephilim's scalp.

"Did you put her name on the wall ?" he asks, because it's somehow important to him, right now, right there, to know if Connor thinks his cub sister is still out there or not.

The brown haired angel nods, slowly, confusedly aware of what it implies for Zoe to have her name of the wall, with everyone else who's dead. He had marked his entire pack on principle, but now that he's thinking about it, he wonders if there is any chance that someone survived. He did - barely, but here he is : still alive, safe, surrounded. Is there anyone left of the Murphy clan ?

Evan's wings close around the three of them, much like Jeremy does when he wants to protect a packmate. Connor realizes he never felt more secure and protected than when he's around the shorter angel. His heart swells a little at the thought - if it hadn't been for Evan's insistence, Connor isn't sure he would consider the Cheberith Pack as his. Evan is his anchor, the reason why he's sitting on the big stones of the class and not reclused in his cave right now.

And Evan is probably aware of this, too, of how much Connor owes him, but Connor can't ask, because it would ask of him to show himself to his most vulnerable state, and he's not there yet. There's still this nagging fear of being played with, of being fucked over, that stops him to completely trusting anyone. Even Evan. Even himself.

In his arms, Ezra has dozed off, his head resting against the angel's bare chest.

"Do you think he has anyone still out there ?" he asks, and the future Beta seems to think about it, hands mindlessly working their way down the back of the child's neck.
"It's... possible, I guess ? One of his parents is a dangerous asshole still running free, but. I don't know. Maybe there's someone from his bearer's Pack still alive."
"You ever think about how everyone here used to have families in the wild ?" Connor continues, eyes tracing constellations between the freckles of Evan's face. "Your mom. The Alphas. Alex and Nora and their children."

He thinks about Matt, whose name had been added to the wall by Clarisse two days ago, about how she probably had a Pack before she got caught and sold and saved and in love with Tex and had kids and died. He thinks about Jasper, with his eyes that sometimes get lost behind the dome in the direction of the rising sun. He thinks about Yuri, Leandro, Rosa, Phil, who are just old enough to know what outside looks like, but not old enough to recall anyone's name. He thinks about Caleb and Alex and Nora and Lisa and Maël, who lost their homes and lost people. He thinks of Heidi, who has to live without a mate because he was the one for her, but she wasn't the one for him.

He thinks about Michael and Jeremy, who never knew anything else but each other, and might as well be a single person. He thinks about Jared, who has so many stories about his cubhood and how he scared the hell out of his parents because he used to have sleep apnea. He thinks about Alana, who was found in a dumpster and deserves to be happy and loved and given attention.

He thinks about Tora and Lewis and Chuck and Clarisse and Karen, who only know the territory and grow up with the horror stories of their packmates but still think they have a chance at a happy life. He thinks about Ezra, who might as well be dissected on an operation table if it weren't for him.

He thinks about Evan, who doesn't know the rules of the outside world, who doesn't fear humans but is scared of everything, who's grooming a cub he didn't know two weeks before like he's always been Pack, who waits for his mom and does her job while she's away on an adventure, who has infinite patience for Connor's night terrors.

He thinks about himself. He thinks about how he could be dead by now, if it wasn't for Zec, for Heidi, for the Alphas, for Evan.

His mind is full of dead people, but it's even fuller of family.

It takes him all his willpower not to kiss Evan right then and there.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Louis and Heather just finished deposition with the two cops who came to arrest Alles, and Louis is tired. Like, Zec levels of exhaustion, which is way more than he can possibly work with. He knows better than risking an error in the meds dosage.

Nap it is. And maybe check on Tex. It would be good, right now, to know she's getting better. Louis doesn't dare to dream, because the poor girl took a severe beating to the moral, and... yeah. He knows how it feels. He understands.

Claire is already changing when he enters the sas, and Christine is cleaning up after giving treats to the cubs, and they're both chatting and chuckling. It warms his heart a little, knowing they're having fun while working. It means something. It means they're not doing this work just because they have to do it. He's glad to realize that he, too, is happier here than he's ever been.

So he's sanitizing his hands and putting on his overalls, ready to go down to work. Except he's not.

Because Zec chooses this exact moment to barge in, his phone to his ear and looking slightly disheveled.

"Uh, guys, Eden is downtown and she says angels have been found exiting the sewers ? And the police cornered them and..." A deep breath." Just. We have to move, like, right now."

___________________________________________________________________________________

So.

Heidi makes good decisions, most of the time. The thing is, she's not a genius. She makes mistakes, like everyone else.

And today she definitely didn't have the brain cell of the Pack, because now they're in this situation. And it's bad.

Roman is hissing quietly under his breath, wings puffed defensively, Karen clutched to his chest and eyes going back and forth between his Beta and the group of humans surrounding them.

Heidi takes a deep, long breath. She holds the cub with one arm, both hands busy signing over and over again in the thin hope someone speaks sign language. Considering all the guns pointed at them, there's clearly none.

She keeps signing anyway, because it confuses the police to see two giant, winged humanoids trying to communicate, and because it gives them time. She can feel Roman shaking behind her, and silently wishes he won't give in and try to attack the closest policeman.

She can't have that. She has to buy some time. She doesn't know how, doesn't know why, but right now the fact that she's holding a baby angel and making something that's very evidently sign language is stopping anyone from shooting them on sight.

As long as everyone stays calm, it's going to be fine.

The cub starts to cry.

___________________________________________________________________________________

"Do we have a description ?" Louis asks as everyone else slams the car doors.

Zec starts the engine, plugs his phone in the board and turns the speaker on.

"Eden ? You still here ?"
"Yeah," Eden replies, sounding far from her mic and kind of out of breath. "They're not letting civilians any closer, so I don't have a good visual, but-- The tallest angel is blonde, and it really looks like Heidi. A very dirty, very tired version of Heidi."
"Okay," Christine says calmly from the back seat. "What about the others ? You said they were multiple ?"
"Uh, yeah. I... God, I'm walking here ! Uh, the other adult is dark-haired. And in bad shape, this one has been in the sewers for a long time... I see at least one cub."
"That could be Roman and Karen," Claire hums, fingers nervously drumming on the head-rest in front of her.
"Babe, can you try to get closer ? See if it's really them ? Maybe try to defuse the situation until we get here ?"
"I'm calling the central, letting them know what's going on," Louis decides, fishing his own phone out of his slacks. "Maybe they can keep things put until we get there."
"It's definitely Heidi," Eden speaks in her mic, her phone probably back to her ear. "They're not letting anyone through, and I doubt she'll hear me from this far, but I'll... Excuse me, sir ? I know them, I know these angels."

Someone replies, too far away and too muffled to be picked up by her phone, but her colorful swear is enough to understand she didn't get through.

"They're not feral angels, I know them, dammit, listen to me !"
"Eden, you have to get them to back off, if Roman gets stressed it might turn bad-" Zec grits between his teeth as he takes a sharp turn.
"I'm trying !"
"Hey, hello," Louis starts rambling in his own phone, "We're rangers from the Cheberith Sanctuary, and there's some angels downtown who- Yeah, listen, we're getting there as fast as we can, but you have to tell the team there that they're friendly angels, okay, they won't attack anyone but they will defend themselves if threatened, you have to... No, I know, we're on our way to get them, but please, you have to stop anyone from shooting or this could end very badly. Yes. YES, please."
"Zec, there's a second cub, oh God, there's a baby with them- It's crying, I don't think Heidi is- Sir, you have to listen to me, I know these angels, they're from the Sanctuary and they're tame, you have to let me through..."
"Come on," Zec grunts under his breath. "We're not losing anyone today."

Christine exchanges a worried look with Claire, who shrugs helplessly.

___________________________________________________________________________________

"Make them stop !" Roman growls, his shoulders curled around his head to protect his sensible ears against the wailing.
"I am trying," Heidi snaps back, a hand rubbing circles on the cub's back.

Her eyes land on Karen, curled up on Roman's arms with her eyes large and filled of fear, and wonders how she ever managed to raise Evan. Oh, right, Evan cried so rarely she got worried sick he had a problem. Those were good times.

The humans cornering them in the backstreet all tense up at the screams and hisses, and Heidi really can't blame them, because this new cub is a goddamn banshee, but again they were raised in a backyard and had unspeakable things done to them, so really they don't have much going on for them right now and she can understand the feeling.

There's movement behind the line of blue uniforms, right where curious humans are piled up trying to see if they're going to get shot or not, and she grasps the faint, familiar scent of something, someone she knows. In-between all the smells of people and street relents and the insistent stench of sewers still sticking to her skin, there is something.

She knows this smell. Like sun on a cold morning of autumn. Like angel but not quite right. Like Pack but not really. Like someone she's very familiar with.

"Eden," Heidi gasps as she notices the golden ponytail shaking angrily in the crowd. "Eden !"

___________________________________________________________________________________

"--She saw me ! Zec, Heidi saw me ! I have to-"

The communication cuts, and Zec feels his heart drop in his stomach.

Chapter Text

Connor is taking a nap.

His breathing is slow, his posture relaxed, his expression soft.

Evan really likes to see him that way. He likes how their splinted arms slot nicely together and around Connor's waist, how he can plaster himself against the taller angel's back and nuzzle the nape of his neck, how their wings fit perfectly on top of them like heavy, feathery blankets.

He likes to feel the dig of Connor's loose suspenders against his stomach. Likes the way Connor's hair is like a messy halo above his head, neck free of any risk of throttling.

Evan lifts his head for a moment, eyebrows drawn in worried nervousness as he looks at the dark ring of healing bruises adorning Connor's neck - a fading trace of Hell Week, a remnant of the heavy collar they put on him.

Evan lowers his head, presses his lips where he can feel Connor's pulse roaring. The other angel lets out a sigh of contentment in his sleep and Evan squeezes their intertwined hands in response, humming low and protective. His mouth wanders, flying above the armada of tiny, almost invisible scars that adorn Connor's skin. He lingers, foolishly, over the juncture between the neck and the shoulder, where he instinctively knows a mating bite would go. His teeth graze the skin before he catches himself.

He withdraws, lips smacking in the air as he backs off from the sleeping angel in his arms, just a little, just to remember that Connor isn't actually his, might never be. It's alright, somehow, even if gently breaks his heart.

Connor grumbles something under his breath about body heat and pulls his nest-mate back against him. Evan can't say no to him, so he settles back with a grin and closes his eyes.

Maybe this is enough.

___________________________________________________________________________________

One second, Zec is rushing out of the car, the next he's standing in front of Heidi and her little group, out of breath and maybe just a little out of his mind. Behind him, he hears Eden, Claire and Christine yelling at the policemen and Louis saying something about an emergency kit. He doesn't care. His eyes are clasped on Heidi, assessing the damage.

She's fine, mostly : dehydrated, cold and dirty, but otherwise looks fine. The bullet hole in her wing is nothing too worrying - feathers will regrow, even though it means he'll have to deal with a couple of blood feathers and that is something that's never fun. He looks up at her, at her dirty jeans overalls, at the weeping cub in her grasp, and asks :

"All right ?"

She nods, looking suddenly exhausted, and lets her head drop on his shoulder. He pulls her into a hug, not caring for a second about the dubious stains that will very likely transfer on his own clothes.

"It's okay, girl. I got you. We're going home."

The child doesn't seem to appreciate the narow space between the two of them and makes it known, shrilling until Zec jumps back. He chuckles at the disapproving look Heidi casts at the cub and decides she has it under control, turning instead his attention to Roman and Karen, both shivering in the back of the alley - Zec suspects it's not only from the cold.

"Are you guys alright ?" he calls, and half a second later finds himself with an armful of sobbing cub, Roman spewing enochian and signing as fast as he manages. "Okay, okay. Everything is fine now. Karen, take a deep breath kiddo. You're safe."

Roman whines nervously, eyeing the thinning crowd at the extremity of the dead end and the group of police force still lingering suspiciously despite Louis and Claire's best efforts to shoo them off. Zec reaches up to pat him on the shoulder.

"We won't let them touch you," he assures, and maybe Roman understands because his dark features drop, just a little, and he looks way less high-strung.

With Karen still crying helplessly in his arms, the ranger slowly makes his way down the rest of the group : Christine is on the phone and mouths at him that Heather is on her way with the truck, while Louis is cleaning up the filth from the very vocal cub, who's restrained by Heidi ; the Beta is making  great show of self-control as Claire busies herself with pliers and pulls out the broken feathers.

Zec is somewhat happy that he's not the one doing the job.

"Quick question," he raises his voice, getting heads to half-turn in his direction, and points at the screaming cub : "Where did this one come from ?"

There's a heavy silence, and then Heidi tells something to Christine, who pales.

"Oh. Oh, my God." She swallows with difficulty. "She says this one is... This one is like Connor."

Zec physically feels the blood leaving his face. Eden's hand flies to her mouth to muffle a gasp, with little result. Louis' eyebrows shoot into his hairline in barely veiled horror.

Claire looks like she's fighting off the need to puke. Behind Zec, Roman stiffens.

"How ?!" the ranger growls. "It's a fucking cub ! Who would want to--"

"Okay," Eden intervenes, tone appeasing, appearing at his side almost magically and getting a solid hold of his elbow. "We're all very mad right now, very righteously so, but maybe we should get our priorities in order ? Heidi needs medical attention, and I'm sure these two will need a lot of shots after spending so much time in the sewers," she adds, looking at Roman up and down.

Heidi is still talking to Christine, and the translator's face goes from horrified to cold, with something that suspiciously looks like satisfaction gleaming in her eyes.

"Good. That's good."

"What ? Heidi, what did you say ?" Louis inquires, probably as put off by Christine's expression as Zec is. "C'mon, what did she say ?"

"She said that the woman who hurt the cub won't be hurting anyone else. She's dead."

Zec looks down at the Beta's hands, at the blood caked under her claws, and he understands. It wasn't a choice. For Heidi, it probably was evident : taking a life was the only thing to do. He turns to Eden, who's still holding his arm and rubbing soothing circles in Karen's back with a fierce stare directed to the police, and wonders how he ever found himself surrounded by such caring women.

Heather makes her presence known by honking a couple of times, and from there it's kind of a blur. He remembers kissing Eden on the lips as she tells him to be careful, and then helping Roman into the back of the truck, and then prying Karen's arms off his neck, and then putting the other cub near her so they can calm each-other down, and then...

And then they're somehow back at the Sanctuary, and everyone seems on the war path, although it's more frantic and less furious than last time they came back with wounded angels, and Zec breathes.

He knows what to do, and he knows he's good at it, dammit. His angels need him.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Connor stops pretending to nap as soon as he hears the commotion outside. He rises his head, ignoring Evan's surprised squawk at the sudden movement, and glances towards the entrance of the cave. The early afternoon's sun is glaring, casting deep shadows when gliding angels dive in front of the nest wall to land wherever the latest drama is happening.

Connor just hopes it's not Leandro making a fool of himself again.

His fears are appeased, however, when he and Evan poke both their heads outside and see the main door open and steadily pouring a small group inside.

"Mom !" the blond angel gasps as soon as he notices the dirty figure of his mom, and immediately throws himself out of the cave and dives to the door.

"Ev-- Oh, hell, whatever," Connor groans, and starts his slow descent down the wall.

Everyone is standing in the slushy snow, talking loud, too loud maybe, hugging the missing angels like they've disappeared ten years ago - and, honestly, it feels like it to Evan. He brushes past Roman and Heather, the woman manipulating a syringe with the confidence of the doctor who did this a thousand times, then nods at Christine, Alana and most of the pack surrounding Karen and Zec, and walks directly to his mom, who's in deep conversation with the Alphas.

At that, he stops in his tracks, like mesmerized.

"Here," Heidi says dryly but not without humor, holding a screaming bundle of dirty fluff at arm's length, "Congrats on your new cub."

Jeremy's face shifts between complete confusion and heart-wrenching hope, and Michael is not far behind with his very intense rendition of bafflement. The cub doesn't seem to care in the slightest about their internal debate, because they kick and scream their head off and honestly Evan hasn't seen a cub that energetic since Chuck was born - and Chuck was... an experience.

Evan is confident that, if the Alphas managed to keep Jared alive for the past years, they'll do good enough with this one.

Michael finally extends his arms, taking care of keeping the kicking feet away from his scarred chest, and looks the cub from every angle.

"This one is going to need a bath," he beams, and Heidi snorts.

Connor chooses this moment to plant himself by Evan's side, eyeing the loud newcomer critically.

"What the fuck is this ?"

"Jared's new sibling, from what I gathered."

The tall angel raises an eyebrow.

"Does he know ?"

"Last I heard," Evan says in a breath, "he went with Phil backstage to check on Maël."

"I feel like this is either going to be a shitshow, or a meeting of great minds."

"We will not know peace, that's for sure."

"They're going to scream at each-other until they're best friends, aren't they," Connor deadpans, and the young Beta snickers.

"We'll all be deaf by the time they get along."

Connor chuckles and knocks their hands together, and Evan smiles at him. In front of them, the Alphas are doing their damned best to soothe the wailing cub, and Heidi is eyeing them with something very close to parental pride.

Evan decides it's the perfect opportunity to go yell at his mother and then cry on her shoulder, and Connor won't be the one stopping him.

___________________________________________________________________________________

"You have a hole in your wing," Heidi hears behind her, and her smile drops a little.

They're doing this, then.

"It'll grow back," she assures Evan, turning around to look at him.

He doesn't look as stressed as she expected to be - and, as she glances at the tall, dark-haired angel hovering a few feet behind, she's fairly sure she knows why - but he still looks mad, and a little frightened. Her crossed arms drop, and it's all the invitation her son needs to nest himself in her hold.

"Please, please for the love of everything," he shudders against her shoulder, "Don't do that again. Don't do that to me."

"Never, honey," she assures him. "But the Pack needed me, and I couldn't wait for things to fix themselves."

"You left me to do your job !" Evan accuses, fury and fear glinting in his eyes.

She glances around critically, before her face splits in a bright smile.

"And you did it better than I could ever do, clearly."

She laughs as he groans and pulls away. Point made. The pinch between his eyebrows softens anyway, the palor of his cheeks gives place to some color, his shoulders loose their sharp line. He looks relieved, and Heidi kind of hates herself for putting so much pressure on him.

"You're the Beta," he says again, "Not me.  Not... not yet."

Heidi kisses his forehead and brushes his curls out of his face. Evan appears to be considering ducking the ministrations, but eventually decides against it and leans against the touch.

"It's alright, Evan. I'm back, and I'm not going anywhere. Okay ?"

"Okay."

"Okay," Heidi repeats. "Well, I need to clean up, and eat something. I feel like I could swallow a horse."

___________________________________________________________________________________

During the following hours, Roman and Karen are sent backstage for a more thorough check-up, the new cub is cleaned from top to bottom despite her ear-drilling protests - yes, her, as Michael and Jeremy soon determined - and introduced to Jared, who looks as shell-shocked as his parents but immediately rolls with it (to Connor's delighted surprise and Evan's surprised delight), and Heidi...

Heidi finds herself buried under a pile of rangers, Zec obviously at the origin of the mobilisation, and really can't find it in herself to complain. None of them looks ready to let go, and the Beta slowly realizes that Evan isn't the one who took the worst of her departure.

Christine leaves after a while, pretexting the lack of oxygen in the human pile, and goes to help the Alphas with the newbie. Claire, Jesus and Ryan follow suit, going back to clean the facility. Heather and Louis, finally, go back to their respective jobs and leave the two Betas to lay in the melted snow.

Zec doesn't know if platonic mates are a thing, but if they exist, this is definitely what Heidi and him are.

He's very okay with that knowledge.