Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He remembers running. The caress of chilly morning air against his skin, his breath coming out in little puffs that rose to the early morning sky and dissolved before they could reach the clouds. He was alone, then, or thought he was at least; it was too early to wake River and take her along on his jog.

Just him and the music playing through his earbuds, just him and the forest.

He remembers taking a break in a clearing, having gone further than usual, itching to test his limits. The full moon stood above him, half-hidden behind the crowns of the trees, draping everything in a cold, bright light. He remembers reaching for his drink when a crackle came from somewhere behind him. Remembers turning around, torn between confusion and worry, a feeling that coursed through his veins like lightning, like a flash. There had been a news report last week or so, of a hunter having spotted a mountain lion near these forests. He remembers trying to recall what the expert suggested you do should you run across it, but then, there was a howl. Unmistakably canine, not feline, and so close his head whipped around, trying to locate the source.

His breath became more erratic; he tried to hold it and stood still, hoping the animal would think he was a tree and leave him alone. Wolves are more afraid of you than we are of them, he remembers Hazel saying, don’t run and they’ll leave, but the knowledge didn’t bring him any comfort.

Red, glowing eyes broke through the darkness, followed by a gigantic muzzle armed with razor-sharp teeth.

He remembers stumbling backwards, instincts blaring in his head, urging him to run, run, run away. He turned, blindly bolting forward through the thicket. Branches slapped against his face. He couldn’t see, it was too dark, he’d gone off the trail and ran straight into the forest where the canopy of trees didn’t let any light shine through. Behind him, the crackle of breaking twigs. Then, a sound that made his blood run cold. Another howl. The wolf wasn’t alone.

He pushed aside everything that blocked his path. The branches cut open his palms, the skin of his arms, but the pain barely registered. All he could think about was running. Run, run, run as fast as you can, it’s coming, it’s—

He stumbled as his foot caught against a thick branch and fell to the ground. He grunted, scrambling to get back on his feet, but he wasn’t fast enough, could only turn and scoot backwards as the wolf broke through the bushes, lunging at him.

He remembers pain.

Screaming.

Sharp teeth were buried in his neck, digging so deep, one tug and there’d only be bone. He remembers trying to push the wolf away, using his hands and legs, but it was stronger, it locked its jaws, pressing down his chest with one enormous paw.

He remembers tears running down his cheeks, mixing with the blood pouring from his neck. His screams were getting weaker, his thrashing subsided, the energy left his body through the wound.

He remembers staring into red, human eyes, remembers the corners of the wolf’s lips tugging up as if it was grinning. He remembers trying to pry its teeth off his neck, but his arms fell to his side, useless. His eyes fluttered. Keeping them open seemed impossible.

He remembers hearing an angry, aggressive sound.

The last thing he remembers, before darkness took hold of him and pulled him into unconsciousness, its claws digging deep into his torso and head, was a blur of dark fur knocking aside the wolf.

There was a snarl.

Then, nothing.

Craig startled awake with a gasp. Lying on his back, he stared up at the ceiling and tried to calm down his racing heart. He couldn’t remember ever having a nightmare that felt so real, almost like a memory.

He was thankful for the fact he wasn’t wearing a shirt, as his torso was covered in a faint sheen of sweat which would have soaked the fabric and made it cling uncomfortably to his skin. With a sigh Craig turned on his side.

Or would have. That’s what he intended, but sharp pain shot through his shoulder at the movement. Craig hissed through his teeth and reached up. What his fingers found made him shoot up into a sitting position, pain be damned.

Marks. Teeth marks.

Craig swept the area, prodding his skin. There were four large marks, surrounded by smaller ones. Right where… sharp teeth were buried in his neck . Taking a shuddering breath attempting to calm himself down, Craig reached for his bedside table, where he usually put his phone. Only this time, his fingers met an ashtray. He turned around and stared, then took in his surroundings consciously for the first time. This wasn’t his room. He had no idea where he was.

And, he realised looking down himself, he was only in his boxer shorts.

In his haste to get up and the fuck away from wherever he was, he knocked down the ashtray, which fell on the ground with a loud thud. Craig winced at the noise, pressing a hand to the side of his head.

Had he been out drinking? It didn’t feel like a hangover, but it was the best explanation he could come up with at such short notice and with such a headache. The lights seemed brighter, smells more intense, and under the vileness of his morning breath he tasted something sweet. Ever since Sam moved to Maple Bay and they started hanging out, Sam had made it his mission to get Craig to relax more, so the idea of his old friend having dragged him to the bar wasn’t that implausible. That still didn’t explain why he was half-naked in a stranger’s bedroom with bite wounds on his neck, but it was a start. While pressing a hand to the wound, Craig bent down to search the ground for his clothes. There were lots of shirts, underwear and pants littering the floor, but none of them looked like his.

A sudden noise coming from the next room made Craig quickly turn his head towards it. Between the wooziness that shot through him at the movement and the pain from his neck, he barely managed to stay on his feet and bumped against the wardrobe. The door was opened. Whoever had come inside, they wrapped an arm around him and helped him sit down on the ground. They smelled of alcohol, cigarettes and cologne and the combination was familiar, but he couldn’t put a finger on it, not with how his ears were ringing. The person was talking, a deep, gruff voice, but the words blurred together, incomprehensible.

They pressed a glass of cold water into Craig’s hand and guided it up to his lips. Like a dying man, Craig gulped it down, nearly groaning at the relief it brought. He sat there for a few moments until the ringing noise died down and his vision cleared. The man had fallen silent again. Craig turned his head, mindful of his wound this time, to look at him. His eyes widened. “Robert??”

Robert grunted in what could only be affirmation and leant against the wall in Craig’s line of sight. “How you feeling?”

“Where…” Probably Robert’s house, come to think of it. Craig shook his head. His thoughts were sluggish, felt like how he imagined wading through mud did, so very painfully slow and hard to translate into words. “Why am I here? Bro, w-what happened?”

“You got completely wasted last night. I’ve never seen a person drink so much before, got to give you that. You drank the kid and Mary under the table, but you were no match for my alcoholic liver and passed out cold mid-drink. Sam and Mary were too plastered to be of help, so I dragged you here. Valiantly, I resisted your attempts at seducing me and threw you down on my bed. Had to put your stuff in the wash, you vomited all over your shirt.”

For a moment, Craig was ready to believe him – he wanted to believe him. But then he shifted his weight and the movement pulled painfully at the skin around his wound, reminding him of its existence. Craig gasped and reached up to his neck. Robert followed the motion with his eyes, which darkened as his face settled on a look of sorrow and anger.

“Craig,” Robert began. The playful, teasing tone to his voice was gone, replaced by something deadly serious. “I need you to listen very carefully. What I’m going to tell you now has to stay a secret. Your girls, your friends, no one can know. If anyone finds out, it won’t just be the end of you, but me too. Something bigger than just your ass is on the line.” Craig opened his mouth, but Robert shut him up with a sharp gesture. “No, I told you to listen. What do you remember from earlier today?”

Earlier today…? Craig’s hand automatically went up to his right arm, where his phone usually was in his cell phone armband, but it wasn’t there. He looked back to the bedside table, but it wasn’t there either. Panic began to swell in his chest. What if something happened to the twins? Was someone with River or was she all alone? What if someone from work called because something needed his immediate attention? What if one of the softball moms wanted to talk about the next training, when was the next training, he couldn’t remember, where was his phone—

“Craig!” The word came out of Robert’s mouth like a bark; Craig immediately snapped to attention. “I’ve got your stupid phone, relax. I texted Sam. He’s at your place, taking care of River. Right now, I need you to focus. Do you remember what the fuck you were doing this morning?”

“What time is it?” Craig held his hand out for his phone, but Robert didn’t even twitch. He just raised his eyebrow.

“Seven.”

“In the morning?”

Robert snorted. “No, pm. 1900 hours.”

“You’re kidding.”

Robert shook his head and showed Craig the screen of his phone. Seven pm. He couldn’t remember the last few hours, hell, he couldn’t remember anything from today. Pressing a hand to his chest, Craig took deep, deliberate breaths and counted to one hundred in his head. The familiar feeling of a panic attack ebbed away into the background, but didn’t go completely. It stayed, a fuzzy edge around the corners of his vision, waiting to strike. Craig took one last breath and dropped his hand again. He ignored Robert’s questioning look, instead focusing on trying to remember.

“I… I got up early. I—“

Remember running—

“I went on a jog. Through the forest. It was cold. I was alone…”

A crackle. A howl. A gigantic muzzle—

“But you weren’t,” Robert finished the sentence. Craig nervously sucked his lower lip between his teeth, but didn’t say anything. “There was someone, something, in the woods with you.”

Craig huffed out a laugh. “Bro, was I talking in my sleep? How do you know what I was dreaming about?”

“If it was a dream, bro, where does that wound come from?” Craig’s hand automatically shot up to cover it. Robert’s gaze was soul-searching, intense, and there was something wolfish behind those brown eyes, something animalistic and wild. Not red, not glowing. A shudder went down Craig’s back, closely followed by goosebumps. “It wasn’t a dream. It really happened. That wolf—“ Robert ran a hand through his hair before dropping it again. “—it was no normal wolf. Don’t think the woods around Maple Bay ever had them to begin with. No escaped zoo animal either. That wolf, it was a werewolf. I have no idea where it came from, been watching the borders closely, it must have slipped through… You got caught in my mistake.”

Craig raised his eyebrow. “A werewolf.”

Robert bristled. “I know what you’re thinking and no, I haven’t lost my mind. I’m not drunk either. I’m dead serious, Craig. Do I look like I’m joking?” Craig raised his other eyebrow too. Robert scoffed. “Fine, I always look like this. But I swear, I’m not joking.”

“Okay, let’s say I believe you.” Craig held up his hand. “Hypothetically. So I was bitten by a werewolf. Does that mean I’m one now, too?”

Robert looked away. A flicker of fury passed over his face, then a flash of guilt, before his expression closed off again. He was silent for a few, excruciating seconds. “Yeah. My intervention meant it couldn’t finish eating you.” Craig winced. Robert had always been blunt. “Damn well nearly ended you for real, though. Only the poison, curse, whatever you want to call it, kept you alive.”

Sharp teeth buried in his neck.

Tears running down his cheeks.

Blood.

Screaming.

A smirk.

Darkness.

Dying .

Rejecting what he knew was the truth, deep down, was a lot easier than accepting what Robert said. He knew - felt - that Robert was serious, the evidence was stacking up, but—

He couldn’t accept it. It was cowardly but—

He couldn’t—

Craig pushed himself back on his feet. Vision blurring, ears ringing and heart pushing against the inside of his chest, he balled up all his feelings – the fear, the confusion, the pain, the fear – and formed them into anger, because anger, he could understand. Anger was easy.

“Do you honestly expect me to believe that?” He didn’t give Robert a chance to reply, just kept on going, because if he stopped, the doubts might have started invading his thoughts. “This isn’t funny, Robert! You can’t just… Who in their right mind pulls a prank like that?!“ Craig turned around angrily, pacing, like a—

Caged animal.

“Did you drug me? I have no idea how you did that dream thing, unless you know hypnosis or some shit. But this? What’s this wound made of, silicone?”

He tried to tear off the fake skin, but there was no gap, nothing he could have pushed his nails under to pull the prosthetic off. Craig tugged harder and dug his fingers into the teeth marks, ignoring the blood that gushed from where his nails opened up the scab.

“Jesus, kid, stop that!” Robert grabbed Craig’s hands and pried them off. Craig struggled, but with surprising strength, Robert pulled his arms above his head and kept him in place, pushed against the wall. Something, some kind of emotion he’d never felt before, shot through him and he instinctually bared his teeth, a growl emanating from low within his throat. Robert’s eyes darkened. He got right into Craig’s face, close enough for their noses to brush, and snarled.

The sound sent shivers down Craig’s spine. Without knowing why, he felt the urge to offer his neck, as if he was some dog , and maybe that thought was the last straw because suddenly, his knees buckled and he sunk down, supported by Robert’s arms. It was only when Robert awkwardly mumbled “It’s going to be okay” that Craig realised he was hyperventilating.

He was no stranger to panic attacks.

That didn’t make the feeling of oh god I can’t breathe, I’m dying any better, but at least it wasn’t his first rodeo. He could still remember what hell that had been and was glad to know helpful techniques, because Robert was of little help, nervous hovering in his vicinity with a hand on Craig’s shoulder.

Craig clenched and unclenched his hand to chase away the numbness in his fingers. His chest felt constricted, so he breathed against that tightness, let the feeling of his ribcage expanding and shrinking in a regular pattern assure his brain that enough oxygen got into his lungs, that he was fine. He repeated that word like a mantra in his head, until it stopped being a command and became a statement.

One last, deep breath and Craig opened his eyes again. He felt exhausted, tired, just wanted to crawl into his bed and fall asleep. And once he woke up, everything would be fine again, there wouldn’t be any weird dreams and scars and werewolves.

But life didn’t work that way.

Craig let out a long sigh and licked over his upper lip. “I’m fine.”

Robert snorted. “Kid, you just had a panic attack right in front of me. Doesn’t look ‘fine’ to me.”

“And now it’s over and I’m fine.” Being told you’re a werewolf was so far from being fine, it might as well have been back in California, but if he kept on telling himself he was, maybe it would eventually come true. Robert still looked like he didn’t believe him, but didn’t press the issue. Silence descended on them; Craig broke it after a few moments. “Is it… is the werewolf dead?”

Robert looked at him intently, then nodded, looking even more grim than he usually did. Craig sighed in relief. But then, “Are you going to kill me now?”

Any other situation, he would have found Robert’s expression funny. The muscles of Robert’s face twitched, minimally, but that still conveyed so many emotions and thoughts. Craig wondered how he’d never noticed just how expressive Robert was. But then, they’d never spent much time together before this. Robert’s face froze again, like stone, and settled on an angry frown. “Why the fuck would I do that?”

Craig raised an eyebrow. “You told me I’m a werewolf. And that you just killed one. It’s not that big of a leap.”

Robert pinched his nose. “Jesus, kid, I didn’t—“ He shook his head. “I didn’t kill it because of what it is but because of what it’s done . It attacked you, nearly killed you. Worst of all, it fucking turned you. That goes against the… well, codex. Don’t look at me like that, Craigory , there is a codex. The world is so much more fucking complex than you think it is. There are beings, lurking just outside your peripheral vision, waiting to sink their bared teeth into your flesh. People like me, we make sure everyone sticks to the rules, because if they didn’t, it would be a bloody massacre.”

“Figuratively or literally?” Robert gave him a blank look. “You know, in British English—“

“I literally cannot tell you how little I care.” Robert fished out a box of cigarettes and pulled one out, lighting it in a smooth motion. “I reveal the secrets of the world to you and all you care about is lexis?”

Craig sighed. “Excuse me for jumping onto the only thing that makes sense in a situation like this.” He watched Robert take a long, deep drag of his cigarette. When he exhaled, it was in a burst of white-grey smoke. Most of it went up to the ceiling, but some, Craig inhaled and it made him cough. “Fuck, why does it stink so badly?” Trying not to vomit, Craig pressed a hand on his nose and mouth, holding his breath.

Robert smirked. “Your sense of smell’s better now. If you think this stinks, wait until you have to change River’s diaper the next time. Nothing’s worse than that stench.”

“River doesn’t stink,” Craig argued. Robert purposely blew smoke in his direction, which Craig waved away with annoyed gestures. “Fine, her diapers do. Happy now?”

He interpreted Robert’s answering snort as a yes.

Robert shifted to the side and suddenly Craig stopped smelling the smoke. The smell of cigarettes still hung in the air, but it was far from the breath-taking, nausea-inducing bite he’d been assaulted by before. Craig tried to give him a thankful smile, but given the situation, it was barely more than a tug on his lips.

“You said people like you,” Craig said. “What do you mean?”

Only after taking another drag did Robert reply. Smoke came out of his nostrils like he was a dragon. Were dragons real, too? God, it’s so overwhelming . “Hunters. Watchers. Different names for the same thing. I make sure no one in the area steps out of line. ‘s like law enforcement, of sorts.”

“No uniform?” Robert snorted; Craig could appreciate the flash of amusement in his eyes.

“Nah, they didn’t have the money. We had budget cuts. Before I only had to deal with unicorns and black dogs. The latter area of expertise’s why they forced werewolf watch on me too.”

Craig stared at him in disbelief and Robert laughed. “I’m just messing with you, kid. There are no unicorns. Bigfoot, though, he’s definitely real. Just haven’t found him yet.”

“What about Mothman?”

Robert glared and pointed an angry finger at him. “Mothman’s bullshit.”

Before, Craig had always thought of Robert as an eccentric, deeply troubled man with a vivid imagination and issues that had issues. Back when he moved to Maple Bay with Smashley and the kids, he’d told them to stay away from the man who always smelled of alcohol and cigarettes and told crazy stories filled with the stuff of nightmares. He hadn’t exactly thought Robert was dangerous, at least not consciously, but he’d always been paranoid when it came to the girls.

To now realise many of Robert’s tales of creatures and half-human, half-monster beings were actually true… it was deeply unsettling.

But not as unsettling as the realisation that he was one of those creatures now.

“If you don’t want to kill me—“

“Never said I don’t want to.”

Craig resolutely ignored that comment. “— then… what happens now? Do I have to move, go into hiding? Am I a danger to my children? Is there a cure?”

“Woah, kid, slow down. Don’t ask a thousand things at once.” Robert pushed off the wall and walked over to the bed, where he put out the cigarette in the ashtray after picking it back up. Craig got the distinct expression he was stalling for time, or preparing himself for that conversation. “Not much changes. You’re still the same health-freak with, frankly, disgusting habits. Who gets up at ass-o’clock in the morning to go on a run?” He held up a hand when Craig tried to defend himself. “Don’t want to hear it. It’s disgusting and not human. Now even less so than before. Only thing that changed is that you’re now a werewolf.”

“You say that like it’s nothing.”

For the briefest of moments, Robert’s face darkened. It was like the layers of irony, cryptid stories and alcohol were peeled away, revealing the storm within. Robert’s eyes were so intense, so full of pain, that it took Craig’s breath away. Then, as fast as it had come, the moment was over again and Robert’s characteristic scowl was back. “Okay, let me be blunt. Your sense of smell, taste and hearing have improved. Will do so even more the closer we get to full moon. You’re stronger, more durable. Wounds, unless caused by silver weapons, will heal faster. Broken bones, torn muscles, torn-off limbs , doesn’t matter. As long as it’s not your head, you’ll heal. You’ll need to eat more, higher metabolism. Full moon, that’s when things change.” He looked away. “Shorter temper. Emotions run high the days before. ‘specially the first time. Then, the night of nights. You’ll shift. Turn. Transform . You’ll lose control of yourself, it takes time, experience, until you’re able to retain most of your consciousness while in your second skin. If your kids were around you the first few shifts, yes, you’d most likely kill them. Friend or foe, doesn’t matter. They’d be prey . All you want to do, the first few shifts and more, if no one helps you control yourself, is feed. Doesn’t matter whether it’s an animal or a human. As long as it’s made of flesh, meat, you’ll hunt it.”
Robert looked up again and visibly faltered. “Kid? Craig, you okay, man? You’ve gone scarily pale, there.”

Craig numbly shook his head. He didn’t even protest as Robert pulled him up on his feet and pushed him into the bathroom, just in time for vomit to shoot up Craig’s throat. Had Robert not kept him upright he would have fallen head-first into the toilet as he vomited, with tears in his eyes.

He had no idea how long he knelt there, bent over the toilet seat even as his stomach was long empty. When he was done, he was too tired to move, so Robert had to help him stand up again. Like a robot, he accepted the glass of water, mechanically rinsed out his mouth and spit the water into the sink. Robert made him sit back down on the bed and gave him a beer. At Craig’s incredulous look, he shrugged. “The only other thing I have in the house is whiskey.”

So Craig popped off the lid and drank a sip. It’s been a while since he last had alcohol, but he couldn’t remember it ever smelling, and tasting, so intense. “Thanks.” Robert acknowledged it with a grunt and disappeared for a few moments, coming back with a glass filled with amber liquid – whiskey, Craig assumed – and leaning against the wall opposite of him.

Neither of them said anything for a while, each nursing their respective drink wordlessly. A thousand thoughts ran through Craig’s mind. Whenever he tried to hold onto one and follow it, it slipped right through his fingers and escaped, like a spooked forest animal. There was so much he wanted to ask, but couldn’t formulate. If Robert had tried to reassure Craig little was going to change, he’d failed. Shorter temper, he’d said; and what he described of the time around full moon was terrifying.

There was no way he could be around his girls. But how would he explain it to them, without revealing what happened? Not that he expected Smashley to actually believe him. He could practically hear her in his head, calling the nearest mental asylum to come and get him.

It all was so much and he was scared.

“I know how all of this must feel.” Craig looked up at the sound of Robert’s voice. The older man was staring at his glass, which was empty now, only the ice cubes that were slowly melting left. “But it’ll be fine. Not peachy, sure, but fine.”

“How would you…” Craig trailed off. In his head, the minutes before his (first) panic attack played out. Robert’s surprising strength, his snarl, it all clicked into place. “You’re a werewolf too!”

Robert rolled his eyes. “Took you long enough.” He lifted his glass, as in a toast, and drank the bit of icy water the ice cubes left behind. “What gave it away? The pointy canines? The scruff?”

“Robert.”

The other man held up his hands. “Okay, fine. Yeah. I am. So, stop panicking. You can trust me on this. I know what I’m talking about, been there, done that.” He swallowed an ice cube and began chewing on it. Each bite made Craig wince, because the sound was downright irritating. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to have to wear turtlenecks or scarfs, to hide the wound.”

“I thought everything heals?”

Robert nodded, then shook his head. “Not the bite wound. That’ll heal like a human wound. Will leave a nasty scar, too.” At Craig’s inquisitive look, Robert pulled down the collar of his shirt. Craig saw the beginnings of a thick, puckered scar, assumedly going down his torso, then Robert hid it again. “You’re lucky full moon was last night, gives us more than enough time to prepare for the next.”

“Us?” Craig looked at Robert in surprise. “You’re going to help me?”

Robert’s scowl deepened. “Of course I am! One, if I didn’t, that would be a breach of the damned codex. Two, what do you take me for? It’s my fault the wolf got to you. Least I can do is make sure you’re as prepared as you can be and help you adjust.”

Craig frowned. “How is it your fault? You said it slipped past you. That’s not your fault.”

There it was again, that look of deep-sitting, virus-like pain and sorrow in Robert’s eyes. He didn’t say anything in reply, but he didn’t really need to. Craig opened his mouth, just to close it again. It wasn’t his place to argue. He barely knew the man.

As if that moment never happened, Robert continued. “Say you have a meeting that starts four days before the next full moon and ends two days afterwards. Or say you’re visiting your parents. Just come up with a convincing excuse. Give your ex the kids for that time period. We’ll go on a camping trip, deep in the forest, where no one will stumble in on your first shift.” Robert paused. “Should be your first shift, at least. Are you prone to outbursts of emotions?” Taken off-guard, Craig shook his head and said no. “Right, that’s another thing. We don’t just shift at full moon. That’s only the time where we have to. Any other day, we can do that whenever we want. With pups, it tends to happen unwillingly, mostly when they’re angry or upset.”

Craig nodded along, trying to remember as much as he could from what Robert told him, but it was simply too much to take all at once. Still, he’d caught one word that confused him a lot. “Pups?”

Robert grinned, showing off sharp teeth. Hoping the other wouldn’t notice, Craig traced the outline of his own, but they hadn’t got any sharper than last time he consciously felt them. Judging from Robert’s amused look, he’d caught Craig do that. “That’s what I call young werewolves like you.”

“I’m not a child, Robert. I’m a grown man.”

“Maybe.” Robert shrugged. “But you’re younger than me. And I’ve been a werewolf for over a decade. Compared to me, kid, you’re a pup. The kind that hasn’t even opened its eyes yet.”

Craig bristled. But then Robert gave him a look and something inside of Craig settled down, calm. Huh . “Fine, I’ll let you have that, bro, since you’re helping me.” Robert smirked, the kind of half-grin Craig had noticed before whenever Robert showed up at the barbecues and talked to Mary. It made him look even more dangerous than he normally did, but also kind of intimidating and—

He didn’t let his mind go there. Instead, he finished his beer and, mindful of his injury, turned to look at the clock. “Am I… is it safe for me to—“

“Yes, Craigory, you can fuck off. Here.” It was only thanks to his training and reflexes that Craig caught whatever Robert threw at him. The thing turned out to be a pastel-coloured shirt, a turtleneck. Craig frowned and looked up at Robert again, confused. Why did Robert have a turtleneck and then a pastel one, of all things? Robert’s sharp look told him not to ask, so he didn’t. “Put that on. It’ll hide the wound.”

“Thanks, man.” Craig stood up and reached down to take off his shirt, only to meet bare skin. Right, he’d been shirtless the whole time. Robert, as if reading his mind, did that thing again, that predatory, tempting expression that sent a shiver down Craig’s spine.

“Your old shirt is ripped to shreds. Not to mention the blood. It’s a wonder you didn’t bleed out before the poison, curse, whatever, turned you.”

Craig huffed out a dry laugh. Maybe bleeding out would have been better, better than being a monster .

His thoughts must have been written plain as day in his face or Robert could really read minds. The older man stepped forward, catching Craig right in the middle of putting on his shirt. He put a hand on Craig’s shoulder and his expression was uncharacteristically soft. “I know what you’re thinking,” he murmured. “But it’s not as bad as it sounds. Certainly not worse than death.”

There was something to Robert’s tone of voice that made Craig wonder whether Robert actually believed what he said. Without thinking, Craig reached up and covered Robert’s hand with his, giving it a squeeze. Robert startled, but didn’t pull away. “Thank you, Robert. You saved my life. You’re going to help me learn how to live with this… condition. I have no idea how to pay you back, bro, but I owe you big time.”

Robert blinked a few times and… was it the light or were Robert’s eyes shimmering? The moment passed as quickly as it had come. With surprising gentleness, Robert pushed Craig’s hand off his and folded his arms in front of his chest. “Don’t mention it, kid. Just get out of here.”

Craig held out his hand and Robert handed over his phone, along with his earbuds and keys. Craig deposited it all in his pockets and patted down his (new) shirt. It was a tight fit and a little too long, but it would do for the short jog over to his house. “Thanks again, Robert. Do you want this back?”

Robert shook his head and scowled. “I couldn’t care less about what you do with that thing. Set it on fire, doesn’t matter to me.”

“Okay…” Craig made sure the neck covered his wound, then gestured, somewhat awkwardly, to the door. “I’ll just… leave.” When Robert didn’t react beyond a grunt, Craig took that as his cue to do as he said. He felt Robert’s gaze, burning hot, on the back of his head all the way until he closed the front door and stepped into the chilly air of Maine in the winter months.

Leaving Robert’s house was like leaving all of what happened today behind, locked in its own spatial bubble unable to permeate the other parts of his life. He jogged over to his house, glad to see that the twins’ rooms weren’t lit as that meant they were still at their mother’s. The feeling of relief was followed by one of shame and guilt. He shouldn’t be happy about them not being there, shouldn’t be this selfish.

The front door was unlocked, but Craig didn’t mind that, since Sam was in the living room with River. The sight of his bro playing with his toddler and her stuffed capybara banished any remaining worries he had. “Hey, bro!”

Sam looked up and grinned at him, but his expression faltered as his gaze fell on the shirt. “Hey, bro. What’s with the turtleneck? Is it throwback Thursday?”

“It’s Wednesday, bro.” Nervously, Craig fidgeted with the collar of his shirt and shrugged. “Robert gave it to me. My own’s…” He waved around his hand in lieu of finishing the sentence.

Thankfully, Sam seemed to get what he was saying, because he nodded knowingly. “How’s your phone?”

Craig frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Does it work again?” Sam, with a groan that spoke of his aching knees, got up and stretched. “I was pretty surprised when Robert Small texted me in your name.”

“What did he tell you?” Though he doubted Robert told Sam anything, certainly not the truth, Craig felt nervous. He hoped it didn’t show.

Sam gave him a long look, however, which only made Craig more nervous. But then Sam shrugged and grinned, so Craig knew everything was fine – his secret was safe. “Told me you went on a run early in the morning in the forest and that you tripped and rolled down a small slope. He asked me to watch over River while he got you to hospital and to possibly buy a new phone, if necessary, ‘cause yours was practically covered in mud. That about right or did he lie to me?”

Craig shook his head. “No, that’s what happened.” He made a show of rolling his shoulders and wincing. “Got a few bruises, but nothing is sprained or broken. The worst thing’s a nasty cut up here-“ He gestured to his neck. “-that’s probably going to leave a scar but it could be worse. And somehow Robert got my phone to work again.” He held out his fist and Sam bumped his against it. “Thanks for making sure River didn’t escape. I owe you, bro.”

Sam waved his hand dismissively. “No need for that, bro. It was fun watching over a baby again. It’s been so long since Amanda was at that age. River was an angel, weren’t you?” River gurgled and made grabby hands towards her father. Even though the movement hurt, Craig bent down to pick her up and securely held her against his chest. “If you’ll be okay, I should be heading out. Amanda’s going to come home soon, she's been out, and I should be getting some work done.”

“Huh?” Craig looked up from his daughter’s face. “Oh, yeah, sure. The two of us will be just fine, won’t we?” River blew a spit bubble. Craig took that as a yes. “Say hi to Amanda from me.”

“Will do.”

After another fist-bump and some cooing over River, Sam left. Craig turned his attention back to River and smiled at her. “How about we watch a cartoon? How does that sound?” He lifted her up and grinned when she waved her arms around excitedly, as if she had understood him.

Sometime between the third and fourth episode of Happy Charlie and the Super-Protectors, a sharp, disgusting smell caught Craig’s attention. At first, he tried to ignore it, but by the time the eponymous protagonist and his friends launched into song, it’s got so bad, Craig could barely breathe.

He stood up and went to investigate. His first thought had been that something’s gone bad in the kitchen, but the garbage can was empty and there were no rotten leftovers or groceries in the fridge. The culprit wasn’t in the bathroom either, but by now, the scent had spread through the whole house. While trying to breathe as little as humanly – or werewolf-ly? – possible, Craig tried to follow it to its source, which led him back to the living room. He scanned his surroundings, but no, nothing that could—

His eyes fell on River and something clicked in his brain.

It was River. She needed a diaper change.

Slowly, Craig approached, but the closer he got, the more unbearable the smell became. He couldn’t remember it ever being this bad before; uncomfortable, sure, but not nauseating. He managed to pick River up and brought her to the changing station by holding his breath, but he needed to breathe, and the first inhale brought with it the stench. Gagging, Craig all but ran away from the room and threw open a window. Greedily, he sucked in as much fresh air as he could.

Holy shit . In any other situation he would have congratulated himself on the pun, but right now, he was too busy racking his brain and trying to find a solution. First attempt: He approached the room, took a deep breath and ran back inside. He managed to get River out of her onesie, but even his lung capacity had its limits and so, he had to run back out again. His head was spinning and the injury on his shoulder hurt, so he discarded that idea. With time, he assumed, he would get used to the smell, like he did when the twins were born and which should be possible even with a werewolf nose.

Robert had warned him River’s diaper would stink, but he didn’t listen. Now he knew Robert had been right.

On a whim, he pulled out his phone. Robert . Scrolling through DadBook, he found Robert’s last message in the cul-de-sac group chat and opened the chat box. His thumb hovered over the keyboard, hesitating. But who else could he ask?

< Hey Robert, it’s Craig. You were right, River needs her diapers changed and I literally cannot breathe in her vicinity. Help?? >

After ten minutes without a reply, Craig put away his phone and tried not to feel disappointed. Just because Robert would help him deal with the full moon didn’t mean he’d also help with everything else. Maybe it had been a bit presumptuous of Craig to just assume. Without Robert’s help, though, he needed to come up with a solution on his own.

Which was how he found himself with a clothespeg on his nose and ginger dangling in front of his mouth. River, at least, seemed thoroughly entertained by the string it hung from and batted it back and forth while Craig quickly changed her diaper and threw it in the bin, which he promptly put in the back of the room. He carried River back into the living room and got rid of his invention, though he put it somewhere he could find it the next time he’d need it.

While River crawled after the ball he nudged towards the other end of the carpet, he sent Robert another text, just to update him.

< Hey Robert, it’s Craig (again). Just wanted to let you know I found a solution that’ll do until I get used to the change. It will get better, right? >

He put his phone aside again and stretched to take the ball and nudge it away again. River gurgled happily and batted it back at him. They continued that silly little game until River abandoned the ball and took interest in her letter boxes. No answer from Robert yet. Craig gave up the hope of getting one around nine, when it was time to put River to bed after her last nap. This time, he used basil instead of ginger to cover the stink, but it didn’t work quite as well. Below him, stretched out on the changing station, River laughed up at him.

That drew a smile from him. “You think this is funny?” River gurgled. “Of course you do. You think it’s funny Daddy has to wear a nose clip?” He took River’s hands in his and bent down to blow a raspberry on her belly. Her laugh, Craig thought, made changing her smelly diapers worth it. “My little sweetpea. Well-“ Craig lifted her back up into his arms once he got her changed and dressed in her pyjamas. “-time to go to bed. Don’t forget Arnold.”

Capybara in one hand, River balanced on his other arm, he walked into River’s nursery and put her into the crib. She reached up; Craig offered her Arnold and she took the toy, wrapping her arms tightly around the plushie rodent. He leant down over her and smiled as she momentarily let go of Arnold to grip his nose. “Can you hear that, sweetpea? Daddy sounds different without his nose. Like an elephant. How does an elephant sound? Huh?” River pulled on his nose, making Craig laugh. “The elephant makes toot. Tooooot .” River gurgled and waved around her arms in joy. Craig smiled brightly and leant down to kiss her forehead. “And how does a River sound? That’s right, she makes zzzz , because she’s going to sleep now.”

He pulled her blanket up to her chin and put Arnold next to her. River yawned and slowly, her eyes fell close. Craig waited until he could hear her soft snores before he slowly and silently left the room.

There still were no answers from Robert. Craig put his phone on his bedside table and got ready for bed. With the feeling of something dark and heavy looming over him, he turned off the light and got under his covers. Sleep came to him only slowly.

Chapter Text

Sharp teeth. So much red; red eyes, red teeth, red blood. He’s screaming, but there’s no one there to hear him. He’s trashing, struggling, but the beast is stronger and he’s getting weaker, he’s bleeding to death, he—

The wolf tosses him aside like he weighs nothing. Like a rag doll, he slumps in on himself, unable to move. The wolf regards him calmly and with each step, the ringing in his ears gets louder, even though he can’t hear anything but his own heartbeat. Then, something pierces through the veil. A cry. No, a wail. It comes from somewhere next to him. He manages to turn his head. Something small, the wolf is heading right towards it, picks it up between its teeth, the bundle is crying, it’s—River—no— He surges forward but it’s too late, it’s snapping—

He’s running. The wind brushes through his fur like a caress and carries to him a scent that makes his mouth water, drool dropping from his teeth and onto the forest floor. He’s getting closer, he can hear its crying, his target is near. He breaks through the bushes, doesn’t care about the twigs and leaves that get caught in his fur, he only cares about the hunger that’s threatening to consume him from within. Everything is a blur. He looks into brown, large eyes as he lungs and under his paws, he crushes an animal-shaped thing without a heartbeat—

Craig woke up to screaming and only realised after a few seconds that it was him. He tore the covers off his body and ran to River’s nursery, throwing the door open with such force, it hit the wall with a loud thud. River started crying, but he couldn’t feel guilty about having woken her up, not when her complaining meant she was alive, he hadn’t… He picked her up and pressed her close to his chest. Something wet ran down his cheeks; he was crying, River was wailing, he’d never been so thankful that Briar and Hazel weren’t home before.

“Sssh,” Craig whispered. “Everything’s okay, Daddy is sorry, sweetpea, I just…” I had to make sure it was only a dream and it—I didn’t kill you.

It took him ten minutes to calm River down and get her into bed again. All the crying made her tired, so she was out like a stone the moment he put Arnold into her arms. He didn’t know for how long he stood there, just watching her sleep, but he couldn’t tear himself away from the sight of her chest rising and sinking with every breath she took.

Still alive.

To think what could have happened, had he taken her on his jog—

Craig shook his head so hard, the wound on his neck began to burn and throb. He cursed under his breath and left River’s room. There was no way he would be able to sleep after what happened. He resigned himself to a long day tomorrow and sat down on his bed. Automatically, he reached for his phone and selected his chat with Robert. He stared at the screen for who knew how long, contemplating whether he should tell Robert of his dreams. The other man was probably already asleep and if he didn’t care about Craig’s struggle changing River’s diaper, he probably wouldn’t care about his nightmares. But there was no one else he could talk to, no one he could share it with. Maybe he should bury it deep inside his brain, like he did with all his other worries, but the horror was still so real, the fear so strong, the moment he tried to put the phone away, panic shot through him and his throat closed up. Craig gasped and closed his eyes. He counted to a random number until he could no longer not do it - He typed out a message without looking or caring for the typos.

<I jusf had a nifhtmaee abd I need to talk avout it or I might lose it>

Then he turned on his stomach and buried his face in his pillow. He didn’t expect an answer, so when one came after a minute, at most, he startled and nearly fell off the bed trying to get his phone.

From Robert: <r u drunk>

<i was on the verge of a panic attack, bro, i had better things to do than watch my spelling>

From Robert: <fair enough>

From Robert: <well I am>

From Robert: <drunk, I mean>

From Robert: <but not a lot>

From Robert: <anyway>

From Robert: <what’d you dream about>

<what happened. Only that>

He hesitated. Just thinking about how he would put the dream into words made him feel sick. His hands were shaking; he had to cling to his phone not to drop it.

From Robert: <only that?>

Craig took a deep breath.

<River was there. And it and then I suddenly was running and iw as so hungry and there was someone in the forest with me I attacked them it was>

From Robert: <it was river>

Minutes passed. Craig didn’t know what to say, he just stared at the screen. Suddenly, a new message popped up.

From Robert: <kid I>

From Robert: <I’m not good with emotional shit>

From Robert: <want to come over and get drunk?>

From Robert: <always helps me>

<I can’t I can’t leave her alone>

From Robert: <okay>

From Robert: <want me to come over>

<why are you even awake>

From Robert: <I’m nocturnal>

From Robert: <it’s not a werewolf thing>

From Robert: <I’m just a night person>

<that’s not healthy bro>

From Robert: <I’m not talking about health with you, you health nut>

From Robert: <do you want me to come over or not>

<you don’t have to do that bro>

From Robert: <I know>

Craig thought about it. But then he shook his head. The thought of interacting with another person made his skin crawl.

<I’ll spend the night watching river sleep. It should be fine>

Robert’s reply came three seconds later.

From Robert: <if you’re sure>

Craig didn’t reply. He got up, took his phone and a blanket, and walked back into River’s room. She was still asleep, like he had left her, and didn’t even stir as her father sat down next to the crib and settled comfortably.

He didn’t leave her until he heard Smashley’s car pull up in front of the house.

-----------------

Somehow, texting Robert became a regular thing after that.

-----------------

<Do I need a rabies shot. Do my kids need a rabies shot. Do I need to worry about rabies>

From Robert: <youre a werewolf not a dog, kid>

-----------------

<why can I no longer stand the smell of lemons>

From Robert: <it’s the citrus>

From Robert: <try holding a pepper under your nose>

From Robert: <or mothballs>

From Robert: <remember how I said your nose’s more sensitive now?>

From Robert: <rule of thumb: if a dog can’t stand it, neither can you>

<I thought I’m not a dog?>

From Robert: <smartass>

From Robert: <see if I help u again>

-----------------

From Robert: <how’s the wound healing>

<okay, I guess? I’ve never had an injury so big and deep>

<how long did yours take to heal?>

From Robert: <weeks>

From Robert: <does it itch>

<like crazy>

From Robert: <means it’s healing>

From Robert: <suck it up>

From Robert: <soon you’ll have a cool scar>

From Robert: <you can say u survived a bear attack>

From Robert: <you wrestled with a bear and won>

<me claiming to have been bitten by a werewolf is probably more believable than me having fought a bear>

<have you ever seen a bear stand on its hind legs? They’re huge>

From Robert: <true>

From Robert: <but you’re ripped>

<thanks dude>

-----------------

<saw you leave papa’s this morning>

From Robert: <and>

<at six am dude. Could have joined me on my morning run instead of heading straight home>

From Robert: <I can name a hundred things I’d rather do>

From Robert: <scratch that>

From Robert: <a thousand>

From Robert: <and spending a day with joseph and no alcohol is far above voluntarily exercising>

<ouch. no need to get out the big guns, bro>

-----------------

<is damien really a vampire?>

From Robert: <what the hell brought that up>

<I’m just curious>

From Robert: <even over the phone you’re a shitty liar>

From Robert: <spill>

From Robert: <or I’m digging through the trash, taking every used diaper I can find and throwing them in your bedroom>

<you wouldn’t>

From Robert: <yes I would>

From Robert: <it’s like you don’t even know me kid>

From Robert: <not only would I do that, but I’d install cameras to get your reaction>

<fine. I’m googling about werewolves and the like and there’s a website that says the same things as you did and has some info on vampires. I got curious>

From Robert: <no you’re not>

From Robert: <you really are aren’t you>

From Robert: <fucking hell>

From Robert: <you can’t just google shit and expect it to be the truth>

<it looks pretty solid to me>

From Robert: <because you don’t know shit>

<is damien a vampire or not>

From Robert: <no>

From Robert: <he loves garlic>

From Robert: <the freak>

From Robert: <wears silver too>

From Robert: <sunlight’s a dead giveaway>

From Robert: <we’re the only two monsters in maple bay pup>

From Robert: <except joseph>

From Robert: <but joseph is human>

From Robert: <he’s just a dick>

-----------------

<holy shit I can see in the dark>

From Robert: <you only noticed that now?>

From Robert: <don’t you always leave before the sun goes up>

<not when it’s so fucking cold outside dude>

From Robert: <also what did you expect>

From Robert: <werewolf>

From Robert: <wolf>

<wolves are crepuscular though>

From Robert: <well>

From Robert: <shit>

From Robert: <I’m surprised and impressed>

<Hazel is in her wolf phase, ironically>

-----------------

<your dog broke out of the house. I caught her and took her to my place>

From Robert: <she did what>

From Robert: <how>

From Robert: <I locked everything>

<don’t know, man. I just saw her chasing after a squirrel and running around on the road. Didn’t want her to get hit. Can you come pick her up?>

From Robert: <I’m away>

From Robert: <on business>

From Robert: <shit, just give her to Damien>

<Damien’s kid is allergic to dogs though>

From Robert: <fuck>

<What brand food does she get?>

From Robert: <what>

From Robert: <it’s Just Jacky>

From Robert: <why>

<I’m keeping her at mine until you’re back in town. Not a big deal, the girls always wanted a pet, that’ll give them a taste.>

From Robert: <you don’t have to do that>

From Robert: <aren’t you busy enough already>

<Don’t mention it, man. I’m glad to help.>

-----------------

From Robert: <thank you>

-----------------

<Betsy and River are best friends already! Look:>

<https://i.ytimg.com/vi/_h0AdOEErz0/maxresdefault.jpg >

From Robert: <the fuck is she wearing>

<a doggie vest. Brian and I went to the pet store and they had those. I couldn’t resist>

<if you want me to, I’ll take it off>

<robert?>

From Robert: <keep it on>

-----------------

Three days later, someone knocked on his front door. Craig rose to his feet and left the girls to play with Betsy, going to the door and opening it. He was surprised to see Robert standing there, rocking back and forth on his feet as if he was nervous. There were dark circles under his eyes, but he looked a lot better than last time Craig saw him in person, leaving a bar early in the morning.

“Hey man,” he greeted and stepped aside to let Robert in. “Here to pick up Betsy?”

Robert nodded curtly and entered. Immediately, Betsy rolled to her feet and barked excitedly. She ran over to her owner and jumped up his legs until Robert took her into his arms. From where he was standing right next to him, Craig could see the tension leave Robert’s body. Smell it, too, he realised now that the subtle note of worry was gone.

Robert turned to Craig and though he didn’t say anything, Craig could read the gratitude in his eyes. Smiling, he clasped Robert’s shoulder and shook his head, no need to thank me, man.

Briar and Hazel were keeping their distance, shuffling on their feet as if they wanted to say something but didn’t know if they should or could, while River continued playing with Arnold, who had a few teeth marks thanks to Betsy roughhousing with him. River didn’t seem to mind at all, nor did she seem bothered by the drool. Craig raised his eyebrow at his twins; they lasted half a minute before cracking. “Can we say goodbye to Betsy, Mister Small?”

The surprise crossing Robert’s face was gone as quickly as it had come. He set Betsy down and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He watched the girls sternly as they gave Betsy a few belly rubs and ear scratches, expression as serious and broody as always, but with a softness to it that Craig thought suited him well. After the twins were done with her, Betsy trotted back over to River and nudged her with her snout. The baby gurgled and wrapped her arms around the dog, who had surprising patience even though half of River’s pats landed on her eyes instead of her head.

“She’s got the patience of a saint.”

Robert huffed. “She’s a trained hunting dog. Patience was the first thing I taught her.” Suddenly, he looked down at his feet. Craig had never seen him so unsure and didn’t even think before he squeezed Robert’s shoulder again. The other man startled, but didn’t push the hand off. He cleared his throat to get the girls’ attention. “If you… if you want you can… look after her next time I’m gone.”

“Really?” Craig asked, but his question was drowned out by the twins’ cries of yes. Even River waved her arms about excitedly and gurgled.

“Thank you, Mister Small!”

Robert acknowledged them with a short nod and a small smile Craig was certain he didn’t even notice himself. He picked Betsy up again and stood there awkwardly. Craig wet his lips. “Hey, girls, could you feed River real quick? Mister Small and I have adult business to talk about.” He waited until the three were gone before turning back to Robert. “You didn’t have to offer that just because it made them happy.” Robert stared at him without blinking, which made Craig want to bear his throat at the same time as he wanted to stare back and see who caved first. “I mean…”

“I get it, kid.” Robert lowered his gaze. “I wanted to. How much do I owe you?”

“Huh?”

Robert rolled his eyes. “For the food and all.”

Craig blinked, then shook his head. “Nothing, bro. I’ll just keep it until your next trip.” Robert was staring at him again. “Really, you owe me nothing.”

Robert’s frown caused something inside of Craig to ache painfully. He looked so disbelieving and surprised, a little suspicious too. “Okay,” Robert eventually said. “Well. I better get going. See ya, kid.”

Craig watched him leave, absently rubbing his chest where his heart was.

-----------------

<I need your opinion on something>

From Robert: <shoot first ask questions later>

<what>

From Robert: <just remember that>

From Robert: <what is it>

<I found these cute onesies online but I can’t decide which one to pick>

From Robert: <…>

From Robert: <are u serious?>

From Robert: <why are you asking me that>

From Robert: <go ask sammie boy>

<can’t he’s out>

From Robert: <u woke me up just to pick out a onesie?>

<it’s four in the afternoon bro>

From Robert: <middle of the night for me>

From Robert: <I’m gonna wake u up at 3am see how you like it>

<sorry bro but one of them says I’m being raised by wolves!!>

<robert?>

<robert>

-----------------

From Robert: <u still looking for onesies>

<shit, man, where you been? you were offline for ten days or so>

From Robert: < http://images.buycostumes.com/mgen/little-wolf-infant-toddler-costume-bc-801444b.jpg?zm=1600,1600,1,0,0 >

-----------------

From Robert: <I just pissed on joseph’s house>

From Robert: <I just pissed on joseph’s house>

From Robert: <didn’t mean to send it twice>

From Robert: <I just pissed on joseph’s house>

From Robert: <third time was on purpose>

From Robert: <don’t do this at home kids>

From Robert: <or someone else’s>

From Robert: <unless they’re a dick>

<how drunk were you last night>

From Robert: <I wasn’t>

<dude did you read through what you sent me. You totally were drunk>

From Robert: < https://media1.tenor.com/images/bbcf50e44a3cdca2c660bfb5a9ea4bc9/tenor.gif?itemid=7516900 >

<what is this from>

From Robert: <I don’t know>

<why did you send it to me?>

From Robert: <it’s a meme>

<a what>

From Robert: <oh my god>

-----------------

<I think brian’s dog doesn’t like me anymore. He barked at me and hunted me down to my house>

From Robert: <should have barked back>

<Robert! Where you been all day, dude?>

From Robert: <hunting a nuckelavee>

<a what now>

From Robert: <a nuckelavee>

From Robert: <it’s a demon>

From Robert: <lives in the water>

From Robert: <has a horse body and on top of that half a human>

From Robert: <the upper half>

From Robert: <pervert>

<never heard of it. you get it?>

From Robert: <they don’t exist, kale>

From Robert: <they aren’t real>

From Robert: <you really need a lesson in cryptozoology>

From Robert: <give me five>

<wait, why?>

From Robert: <i literally just said why>

From Robert: <pay attention craigory>

<but it’s almost midnight>

From Robert: <so?>

From Robert: <don’t tell me it’s past your bedtime already>

<i have to get up early tomorrow>

From Robert: <tomorrow’s saturday>

From Robert: <no>

From Robert: <no>

From Robert: <you’re not going to get up at ass-o’-clock on a saturday morning to go on a run>

<i’m pretty sure I am, bro>

From Robert: <not on my watch>

<I can’t see how you can stop me, dude. Unless you physically lie down on top of me wink face!>

From Robert: <did you just say wink face>

From Robert: <you didn’t>

From Robert: <you totally did>

<um, yeah? why?>

From Robert: <use the damn emoji, kid, what the hell>

From Robert: <who writes out an emoji>

<i don’t know how to use them>

From Robert: <of course you don’t>

From Robert: <im coming over>

-----------------

“So,” Sam says, looking at Craig over the menu of the diner they always went to after their Wednesday run. “You’ve been staring at your phone for quite some time. Is anything wrong? The girls? The softball team? The gym? Work? Smashley? Another one of your many obligations?”

“Nah, bro.” Craig waved dismissively. “I’m just texting Robert.”

Sam’s eyebrow shot up. “Robert? You mean the dark and broody, scruffy neighbour living next to the Christiansens? That Robert? Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” Craig lowered his menu and fixed Sam with a confused look.

“You’re, well…” Sam gesticulates, but Craig only looks at him even more confused. “The two of you are polar opposites. I just didn’t expect you to get along so well.” Me neither. “How did that happen?”

Craig shrugged and rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t know, honestly? After I tripped on my jog and he helped me get home and all we kind of started ‘talking’. His humour is really great, more so during boring business meetings, once you get used to it. I was kind of put off by his hobby at first but now that I know more about it, it’s kind of fascinating.”

Sam hummed. “Well, if anyone can get you to relax, it’s got to be the guy who wakes up at five in the afternoon. Remember how we once slept for twenty hours after finals week?”

“Oh god, don’t remind me.” Craig laughed. “I still don’t know how we survived that much caffeine and sugar.”

-----------------

From Robert: <craig>

From Robert: <craig>

From Robert: <kid>

From Robert: <craigory>

From Robert: <kale>

From Robert: <kale>

From Robert: <pup>

<jesus robert I’m in a meeting what’s wrong? Are you injured? Do you need help?>

From Robert: <look what I found online>

From Robert: < https://img.memecdn.com/arewolf-werewolf-havebeenwolf_o_4163049.jpg >

<really?>

-----------------

<why weren’t you at the barbecue today?>

From Robert: <I was busy>

From Robert: <why>

From Robert: <you miss me?>

<shut up. Are you coming to the next?>

From Robert: <why should I>

<because I asked you to, bro?>

From Robert: <fine. If you bring me booze>

-----------------

From Robert: <and when I say booze, I don’t mean beer>

From Robert: <if you bring me a beer again>

From Robert: <I’ll burn down your magnolias>

-----------------

<they’re chrysanthemums, bro!>

-----------------

From Robert: <do you really have to jog through the neighbourhood half-naked?>

<I didn’t. I wore a tank-top.>

From Robert: <that flimsy excuse for a shirt doesn’t count>

From Robert: <it barely covered anything>

From Robert: <it certainly didn’t cover the bite>

<were you watching me bro? ;)>

From Robert: <I show him how to use emojis and he uses them against me>

From Robert: <that’s the thanks I get>

From Robert: <life is cruel>

<you’re avoiding the question dude>

<it was eleven am. I thought you never get up before four? Why were you awake anyway?>

<robert?>

<it’s none of my business bro, just ignore my question>

<robert?>

From Robert: <I had reasons>

<good enough for me. So, did you just happen to look out of the window and see me jog by?>

From Robert: <I was watching the neighbourhood>

From Robert: <looking for a cryptid>

<what’s it look like?>

From Robert: <it’s human-sized>

From Robert: <only a little bit smaller than me, if it walks upright>

From Robert: <restless>

From Robert: <incredibly strong>

From Robert: <some say it’s blood is green>

From Robert: <it rarely attacks but when it does, it only goes after healthy ones>

From Robert: <it doesn’t like fat>

From Robert: <cryptids of that species usually always carry its young but this one didn’t>

<is it dangerous?>

<robert?>

From Robert: <I just said it rarely attacks>

<why look for it then, bro? shouldn’t you search for the scary ones, like wendigos?>

From Robert: <hey>

From Robert: <look at that>

From Robert: <kale paid attention during my lessons>

<I wanted to pass the end-of-term exam without having to beg the teacher for extra credit>

From Robert: <damn>

From Robert: <I already had great ideas for shit I could make you do>

From Robert: <you’re a spoilsport>

<sorry, bro>

<shoot, I’ve got to go to work. talk to you later bro!>

-----------------

From Robert: <hey>

From Robert: <hey>

From Robert: <hey craig>

From Robert: <pup>

From Robert: <come outside>

From Robert: <don’t make me honk>

From Robert: <I will honk>

From Robert: <honking in three>

From Robert: <two>

From Robert: <one>

<give me three minutes to get dressed>

From Robert: <if it’s up to me you might as well come out naked>

<I’m not naked>

From Robert: <I know>

Craig looked up from his phone and narrowed his eyes. A bright line came from somewhere outside the house and shone right through the curtain in front of the bedroom window. Craig pulled it aside and Robert waved at him from where he was perched on the hood of his old truck. Blinking against the light, Craig waved back and then pulled the curtain back, even though Robert could apparently see through it anyway.

He reached for the first shirt he could find and pulled on some pants, stumbling through the house as he tried to put on his shoes at the same time as his jacket. His muscles still seemed to remember the many times he had to do that in college, since he made it, more or less unscathed, to the front door. Robert put out his cigarette when he saw Craig and squished it under his shoe. Wordlessly, the older man jumped into his car, so Craig followed suit.

Maybe he should have asked what they were doing, where Robert was driving him, but the silence that fell on them was comfortable. After the stressful last days, packed with work, training, caring for River who caught a cold before Smash picked her and the twins up, and juggling extra hours to make up for the three days he was going to take off for full moon, silence felt heavenly.

Without even realising it, he dozed off and awoke to Robert shaking his shoulder. The hand lingered, even after Craig blinked up at him sleepily, and the warmth that seeped through the fabric of Craig’s jacket and shirt caused some of the tension in his body to melt away. Robert jerked his head and Craig unbuckled his seatbelt, joining the older man out in the cold. Before, it would have been too cold to be outside in the middle of the night, even with a jacket on, but his blood ran warmer now, so he was only shivering lightly as he followed Robert, walking around the car. He had no idea where they were, only saw the trees in front of the truck and assumed they were somewhere near the forest.

Never would he have expected the sight that presented itself to him now. Maple Bay lay below them, an ocean of lights that spread out all the way to the mountains in the distance, which were only vague shapes in the darkness. In the distance, he could see the light tower with its rotating light and above them stood the moon, nearly full, half-hidden behind a few clouds. Craig stepped into the half-circle made by the truck’s taillights and took in the scene in front of him.

Robert walked up next to him. “This is where I come to masturbate.”

Craig’s head whipped around so fast he nearly got whiplash. His face must have shown his bewilderment, because Robert broke out into laughter, laughing so hard he bent over and braced himself on his knees. Craig spluttered. “Hey, man, that’s not cool. I was enjoying the scenery and you had to go and ruin the mood.”

Far from looking sorry, Robert held up his hands and grinned. “You should have seen your face, kid. I wish I had taken a picture.” He gestured backwards to the bed of the truck and after a few moments of shaking his head fondly, Craig joined him. Robert had covered the metal with a blanket, making it at least somewhat comfortable.

Craig crossed his arms behind his head and looked up into the night sky. He watched the clouds pass above them, tried counting the stars and made it to 145 before he gave up, listened to the breeze as it rattled the leaves of the trees and said goodnight to the owners of every house whose lights turned off. Neither he nor Robert said anything. Robert, he knew, didn’t like small talk and Craig enjoyed not having to engage in it for once immensely. Up here, it almost felt like none of his worries could reach him. Work, the softball team, workout plans and sick children, all of that lay below, somewhere in between the many lights and dark, shadowy buildings. Even his phone was quiet, for once. And somehow, he didn’t feel the urge to check it every five minutes.

From the corner of his eyes, he could see Robert watching him. Craig turned his head to look back; Robert didn’t as much as blink even though he’d been caught. They stared in each other’s eyes for a few moments. Then Craig broke the silence. “Why did you bring me here, dude?”

Robert didn’t reply right away. He averted his gaze and fixed it on the waves in the distance. The moon, no longer hidden, illuminated his face and made his eyes shine. “Sam showed up at my door,” Robert eventually said. “Told me you’re stressed even more than you normally are which is a miracle, frankly, because I thought that would be impossible to accomplish. He asked me to try and help you relax. So, here we are.” Robert shrugged.

“You brought me here because Sam told you to?”

The older man snorted. “Please, as if Sam could make anyone do something they don’t want to do. The kid doesn’t have it in him.”

“Then why did you listen to him?”

Robert turned to look at him again. Craig shivered under his gaze. “Because he’s right, you’re stressed. You’re wound so tight you’re going to fly next time you fucking fart.” He held up a hand and Craig snapped his mouth shut again. “Look, I get it. Full moon’s soon. I can feel it in my bones, in my blood, and I remember how it was, back when I was new to the whole thing. Like you’re going to snap and it takes all your self-control to keep from ripping someone’s head off.” The corners of his mouth twitch at Craig’s confused expression. “Not like that for you? Must have been just me, then. But, jokes aside. Going into your first shift so fucking anxious and tense won’t do you good. It’ll make for one hell of a twitchy wolf and I didn’t plan on keeping you pinned to the ground the whole fucking time.”

Just hearing Robert talk about full moon, about shifting into a wolf, as if it was nothing out of the ordinary set Craig’s nerves on fire. He sucked his lower lip between his teeth and sat up, nervously rubbing his leg through his trousers.

“You going to have a panic attack, kid?”

Craig automatically shook his head, even though breathing had become painful. He hears the rustle of fabric, then Robert wraps his arm around Craig’s shoulders and shifts closer, until their thighs are pressed together. Somehow, the proximity made the knot in Craig’s throat uncurl. He took a few deep breaths and watched them rise to the sky as he exhaled. Apparently satisfied, Robert dropped his arm, but he didn’t move away again. Craig tried not to read too much into the way it made his heart skip a beat.

“You get them often?” Craig turned his head and raised a questioning eyebrow. Robert made a gesture with his hand. “Panic attacks.”

“Used to get them regularly during college, whenever my grades dipped so low, they didn’t as much brush the border between passed but barely and failed, they crashed on it head-first. After I got my act together, it only got worse.” Craig shook his head. “Took a while until I got it under control. Breathing exercises help.”

Robert didn’t say anything for some time and Craig stared at the city in front of them, trying not to think about those days too much. But then Robert broke the silence again. “What are you afraid of, kid?”

“Pardon?”

Robert gestured towards him. “You’re scared. You keep on pushing yourself over the edge. Why? What do you think’ll happen if you stop?”

Craig clutched his hands to fists and stared down into his lap. “I’m not scared. I’m just an ambitious person and a bit of a workaholic.”

Robert snorted. “You’re a shitty liar, Craig. You can’t lie to the biggest liar in all of fucking Maine. Trust me, I’ve tried.” There was a pause. “Look at me, kid.” Despite himself, Craig looked up, meeting Robert’s eyes. “What are you afraid of?”

Instead of answering, Craig averted his gaze and fixed it on one of the many blurred, dark shades in the distance. If he focused long enough, he might have started seeing schemes in them, the demons in his head. “I’m-“ Craig wet his lips. “I’m scared of falling back into my old habits. I was a mess. I didn’t care about anything but partying and having fun. I ate junk food, if I ate at all, I drank more alcohol than was healthy, and I slacked on all my chores. I worked hard to turn my life around and get my shit together, to give my girls a good life, but… I’m scared that if I stop, if I relax even once, then-“ He exhaled sharply and absently rubbed his shoulders. “And even when Sam or you force me to sit down and put my feet up, I feel like…”

“Like you don’t deserve it.”

Craig’s head snapped up. Robert was looking at the ocean and the moonlight did nothing to hide the sorrow and pain in his expression. Craig tried to think of words of protest, but even if he had found any, it would be useless, shallow. He looked away from Robert again and started chewing on a fingernail nervously.

“Look, I’m not going to claim I’m the best at giving life advice. My life’s a lot shittier than yours was in college.” Robert shifted next to him, bumping their shoulders together. “But your life? It’s not going to crumble just because you take a day off every now and then. You’ve got great girls, your ex is still in the picture, you’ve got your own business and you’re in great shape. None of that is going to break apart just like that.”

Craig shook his head with a sigh. “I know. I know all that, it’s just-“

“Ever thought about smoking?” At Craig’s incredulous look, Robert shrugged. “Nicotine’s calming.”

“And deadly.”

“Not anymore, kid. You could smoke four fucking packs at once and wouldn’t get lung cancer. Same with alcohol.”

“Explains why you’re still alive.” The sentence’s out before Craig’s brain could filter his mouth. He tensed, a chorus of shit went through his head, and he opened his mouth to apologise, but Robert giggling stopped him short in his tracks.

Robert Small. Giggling. Craig’s mind kind of short-circuited.

“I’m rubbing off on you, pup.” Robert elbowed Craig’s side and grinned. “Didn’t know you could be funny.”

“Hey, I make jokes all the time.”

Robert rolled his eyes and nudged Craig until he was lying down again. “You call those jokes? You really need a lesson in comedy.” He lay down as well, close enough for their sides to be pressed together, fingers brushing.

“That comes from the man whose humour is so dry and serious, 95% of the time no one can tell whether he’s serious or not.”

The older man propped himself up with his arm and turned on his side to look at him. “I'm so many levels of irony deep that I've forgotten what humour is. You’ll get there in time. Now, go fucking relax. Didn’t bring you here for a stand-up routine. And try not to panic about nothing. You don’t have to keep on running.”

Obediently, Craig resumed his previous position and continued gazing at the city beneath them. At some point, Robert pulled out a knife and began working on a piece of wood. It’s the most relaxed Craig felt in a very long while.

-----------------

From Robert: <you ready?>

<no>

From Robert: <I didn’t ask about your anxiety>

From Robert: <or whether you feel ready>

From Robert: <work?>

<knows I can’t be reached the next three days>

From Robert: <your kids?>

<Smashley picked them up two days ago. They’re going to her parents>

From Robert: <why’s your ex called Smashley anyway>

<her name’s Ashley>

From Robert: <oh really>

From Robert: <never would have guessed>

From Robert: <thanks, sherlock>

<there are two versions of the story behind her nickname. The first: she got so drunk during a party as a sophomore once, she smashed three windows and kicked down a wall on a dare.>

From Robert: <the second?>

<had a reputation for announcing her sexual encounters the morning after by shouting ‘Just smashed’ out of the window.>

From Robert: <which one’s true?>

<neither. She accidentally got involved with a drug ring thanks to her former best friend and helped the police>

<well>

<smash it>

From Robert: <you’re bullshitting me>

<yeah, okay, you caught me. I’m just kidding>

From Robert: <don’t you dare>

From Robert: <don’t you fucking dare craigory>

<or am I>

From Robert: <fuck you kale>

Chapter Text

Until now, he’d been able to more or less ignore the skeleton – wolf – in the closet. With the exception of a few, mostly positive changes, his life had been the same. But now, standing in front of his house waiting for Robert to pick him up, he couldn’t evade reality any longer.

Full moon was tonight. Today, he and Robert were going camping, so he’d be nowhere his family and friends when he shifted. Shifted. Robert had explained the process in excruciating detail, from every bone that broke and re-set to the way his human consciousness would just… turn off. Part of him still hoped Robert had exaggerated, but he could feel it in his chest that he’d only spoken the truth. In fact, he could feel a lot of things at the moment. His muscles were burning, as if he’d gone working out the day before and overdid it by more than just a margin. Scents that only annoyed him before were downright assaulting now. The tiniest thing, it seemed, set him off. He’d been unreasonably pissed off after not being able to find his phone; his breathing exercises helped, but only barely. It was like there was something lurking under his skin, growing bigger and bigger the more hours passed, trashing and throwing itself at his ribcage trying to break free.

He hated every second of it.

He’d fought so hard to bring his life under control and now... that was about to taken away from him again. Only for a night, admittedly, but he still felt on the edge. Thank god Sam was away. Had his friend seen him like this, he’d definitely notice something was wrong.

But then, it didn’t take years of living together in the small confines of a college dorm and a lifelong pact of friendship written in ravioli sauce to see that.

Had the context been a different one, watching Robert leave his house, get into his truck and drive the few metres over to his house would have been funny. But right now, it only brought dread. Robert didn’t bother getting out of his car, simply rolled down the window and leant out. “You look like death warmed over, kid.”

Robert’s dry tone of voice made Craig huff out a laugh. He shouldered his bag and rounded the car. Robert waited until Craig was seated and buckled up, then made the engine roar back to life. For the first ten minutes of the drive, the engine was the only sound that could be heard, but this time, the silence wasn’t comforting; it was loaded, like the calm before the storm.

Craig squirmed in his seat and shoved his hands in his lap. A few seconds later, he changed positions again. The third time, Robert looked over at him and glared. “I swear, if you don’t stop squirming, I’ll let you walk up the hill.”

The growly, dark undertone sent a shiver down Craig’s spine. He immediately sat still and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Robert nodded and turned his attention back to the road. Thankfully, the overlook wasn’t that far away from the cul-de-sac. Five more minutes in the truck and Craig would have choked on the tension in the air. He all but jumped out of the car and waited for Robert to get out too. The older man got out a large bag from the back and kicked the door shut. “Let’s go.”

Craig had always prided himself on his sense of orientation and how he could find back home, the dorm or the way to the nearest metro station. But soon after they went off the hiking tail and into the heart of the forest, he had no idea where he was anymore. He probably could have asked, but Robert was silent and gave off a vibe that said don’t talk to me, so Craig didn’t. Robert seemed to know where they were going anyway. About half an hour later, Robert suddenly stopped and put down his bag. “We’ll set up camp here. You got the tent?” Craig nodded, surprised by the sudden end to their silence. Robert grunted. “Toss it over.”

Robert set everything up himself, delegating Craig to simple tasks such as holding the tent stakes while Robert hammered them into the ground. The canopy of trees above their heads swallowed most of the sunlight, but a few rays went through, just enough to see. Robert threw a blanket on the ground and sat on it. When Craig hesitated for a few seconds, Robert glared and pulled up his upper lip in a snarl. “Get your ass down, kid,” he said, and Craig did.

He had no idea what time it was, but it must be hours until full moon, more than half a day. There was no way he could spend all that time just sitting there. His muscles barely did more than twitch as he intended to stand up before Robert already pushed him back down. “Bro, let me get up.”

“No.”

“Bro,” Craig complained. “I’m—“

“Anxious. Jumpy. Close to snapping. Trust me, I know. Doesn’t mean I’ll let you start exercising or some shit, or I will snap.” Robert fixed him with a glare, but it lacked the heat of the previous ones. “Look, I get it. You’re scared. I was scared shitless the first time it happened, too. But I was alone, then, and you’re not. I won’t let anything happen to you or anyone else who might waltz in, against all the fucking odds and I calculated them, they’re close to zero. You’re going to shift. It’ll fucking hurt. You won’t be in control of yourself. The worst thing that can happen is you trying to fuck with me and me ripping your fucking ear off, but that will grow back.”

Despite the anxiety in his chest, Craig couldn’t help but chuckle. “Who says it won’t be me ripping your ear off?”

Robert snorted. “First of all, I said fucking ear. Secondly, I’m sorry to disappoint you, Craigory, but not only am I older than you, both in actual years and in terms of werewolf experience, and thus in full control of my furred self, but I’m stronger than you, too.” At Craig’s amused and disbelieving look from his own to Robert’s body, Robert shoved him hard enough to send Craig toppling over. Craig sat up again and pouted. Something inside of him wanted to shove back and play and he found that disconcerting. “Want to doubt me again?”

“Nope, I’m good, bro.” Craig rubbed his arm where Robert hit him. “If you’ve always been so strong, why did you never help carry stuff around for the barbecues?”

“Because I’m lazy, I’d never move a fucking finger to help Joseph and,” Robert smirked, “not helping meant getting to see you do it and man, do your muscles bulge when you lift heavy shit.”

Craig blushed and ducked his head. “Um, thanks bro?”

“Come on, don’t tell me you don’t get told at least four times a day. You’ve got your own fan club.”

“You mean the softball moms?” Craig shuddered. “If you ever have the displeasure of making their acquaintance, run. It’s… tiring.”

Robert nodded knowingly. “I can imagine. Must be hell, having half of Maple Bay’s single-mom population lust after you.” Craig shoved him, but Robert had the advantage of a better sitting position, so he only managed to move him a few centimetres to the side.

“Most of them aren’t even single, bro. A lot are married.”

“Their husbands never around to see them fawn over you?”

Craig shook his head. “I would be so lucky, huh? Besides, nothing ever happens.”

Both of them fell silent after that. After some time, Robert reached into his bag and pulled out two bottles of beer, one of which he handed to Craig. Wordlessly, they drank and once those bottles were empty, drank some more. “Shouldn’t we be sober for this?” Craig asked before taking another swig.

“Don’t tell me Kegstand Craig’s already tipsy after a bottle of beer and some.”

The bottle came to a standstill and hovered inches away from Craig’s face. He raised an eyebrow and looked at Robert with a suspicious expression. “Who told you that nickname?”

“Take an educated guess, kale.” Robert’s grin was wolfish. “Dear Sammy can’t hold his liquor. Gets very talkative when he’s drunk. Had to get blackmail material from somewhere. You could have told me you were a fucking party animal back in college.” His grin widened. “Aw, look at that, he’s blushing.”

“Shut up.”

“Don’t see why I should. Here I’ve always only known Mister Health and Responsibility and then I learn he earned himself a nickname like that. What was your record? 100 seconds?”

Craig groaned and drank another sip of beer. “115.”

Robert whistled. “Not bad. Wouldn’t have guessed that from how you are today. You sure you’re Craig Cahn and not an alien doppelganger?”

“I’m sure.” Craig looked to the side, letting out a long breath. “Can we not talk about this, bro? I’m anxious enough as it is.”

“Sure, kid.” Robert reached over and clasped Craig’s shoulder. “It won’t be that bad. Might even do you good, letting lose for a few hours.”

“That all was an elaborate plan to get me relaxed, wasn’t it? The werewolf attack, that was all Sam’s masterplan. Should have known it.” Craig offered Robert his bottle. “It’s always the unassuming ones you have to look out for.”

The older man snorted and clinked his beer against Craig’s. “You caught me. I’m but a minion, obeying my master’s command. Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

---------

“It hurts,” Craig gasped, arching his back as another wave of fiery pain shot through his veins. He had long lost his jacket and was clawing at his shirt, torn between tearing it off or keeping it on, as his temperature seemed to fluctuate between the pits of hell and the Antarctic. “Fuck, it hurts-“

“Breathe through it, kid. In and out. Use one of those fancy breathing techniques you know.” Robert moved away from where Craig was crouched on the forest floor. A second later something wet and cold was pressed to his neck, which brought instant relief. Craig groaned and forced his eyes open again.

It started three hour ago, around five pm. As the sun gradually set and the forest grew darker, the itching under Craig’s skin that had been there the last few days worsened, until it turned into a burning sensation. According to Robert, that was normal, but knowing that didn’t make it any better. It felt like he was being incinerated from within. And every now and then, growing closer and closer in time like contractions did during labour, his limbs twitched against his will. His muscles tensed and relaxed outside of any discernible rhythm. But worst of all was the pain.

“Craig, listen to me-“ He looked up and somehow managed to figure out which blurry, colourful blob was Robert. “Craig, can you hear me? Do you understand? Good. That’s good. Just listen to me. It’s almost time. I know it hurts, kid, I know, but you have to relax. You can’t fight it. If you do, it’ll take longer and it’ll hurt a lot more. Okay? Nod if you understood.” Craig nodded, but the movement ended in a jerk as another wave of pain coursed through him. “Good. I need you to trust me. I’m going to strip you naked or the clothes’ll rip and annoy you during the shift. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

A fresh breeze on his heated skin was the only thing Craig noticed. He curled in on himself, but Robert pried him apart again, held him down as Craig began to trash and tremble, like he was having a seizure.

An ugly, loud crack broke through the feverish haze of his mind. The pain only registered seconds later. Someone, or something, screamed, but Craig was too far gone to notice it was himself.

“Kid-“

“Craig– don– the–“

He’s being ripped into pieces. Limb for limb, digit for digit, bone for bone, everything pulled apart like the individual pieces of a construction kit—

“Craig—“

A symphony of breaking bones and snapping muscles—

“Don’t fight—“

Bones were rearranging themselves. Fur broke through his skin and sprouted, his teeth became fangs, shattered his jaw, which popped out and grew longer only to resettle. His fingers turned into claws—

“—won’t let anything happen—“

His scream turned into a howl.

Confusion.

Disorientation.

Dizziness.

Pain.

Sore.

Hunger.

Thousands of smells – moss and grass and wood and prey.

Noises.

Crickets.

Wind, rustling leaves.

No foil.

Not alone.

Bared teeth, growling, snapping, brown eyes, human fingers not claws, reaching out, growling, snapping, words, distance—

Running.

Running.

Wind in his fur. Dirt under his paws.

Running. Running. Scent. Rabbit. Running. It’s running he’s leaping it’s—

Other wolf. Dark fur. Lined with grey. Shaggy. Growling, bared teeth, circling, the wolf stands calm, brown eyes, dark fur lined with grey, growling, it’s snapping at him—

He leaps. Dirt, tussling, teeth at his neck, a growl, he’s on his back, the wolf above him, it’s growling—

Something inside uncoils. He bares his neck, submitting—

The wolf releases him, licks over his head— Barks—Leads the way leads the hunt—

Running running running the wolf is at his side running rabbit running—

Blood meat prey hunt scent hunt running—

Running.

Running.

He throws back his head and howls.

The wolf answers—

Sunlight.

Burning. Fire pain fire hurts the wolf licking hurts—

No more fur, but skin, no more fangs but teeth, claws turned nails, there’s no other wolf anymore, human, brown eyes, greying hair, they’re naked, they’re—

It’s all teeth and snarls and skin on skin and—

Craig came to only slowly. His head was pounding, as bad as it used to be whenever he and Sam went to three parties in a row and overdid it with the alcohol, but miraculously didn’t die from alcohol poisoning. Speaking of, he turned to the side and coughed, curled in on himself with a groan. The memories of last night weren’t all there. Preventing him from fully accessing them was a wall, made of mist or fever he wasn’t sure, it wouldn’t let him through. All he had were fragments.

None of them explained why his arse was sore, too.

Craig turned on his back and opened his eyes. The sunlight blended him, but after a few seconds, his eyes adjusted and he could look around. The tent wasn’t there anymore. Their bags were packed and ready; someone had put out his clothes. He only now realised he was naked and reached for the boxershorts.

All his muscles were aching, like he had pulled something. He slowly got dressed and then stood up. There was no sight of Robert. “Bro?” He called out into the forest, but besides the indignant screeching of some birds as he startled them, there was no reply. “Robert?” Still nothing. Confused, Craig bent down and went through his bag in search of his phone. The movement hurt. Hissing through gritted teeth, Craig stood up and spun around. No reception. “Robert?!”

To his left there was the rustle of leaves. A moment later, before Craig could start to worry, Robert emerged. “Robert—“

“Get your bag. We’re leaving.” Robert barely looked at him as he brushed past and got his own bag. He didn’t even wait to see whether Craig was following him, leaving Craig to scramble after the older man. The pace Robert set was brutal. Had it taken them twenty minutes the day before, today they made it in half that time. Robert threw his bag in the trunk bed and closed the car door with enough strength to make the vehicle quake. Craig got in faster than he should have, considering his sore muscles, but he couldn’t be sure Robert wouldn’t just drive away without him, if he kept him waiting for too long.

With screeching tires, Robert pulled away from the lookout and brought them back on the road.

“Is something wrong?” Craig asked and threw a look over his shoulder, but nothing was following them. “Why are we—“ One glare from the other shut him up in an instance. Last time he’d seen Robert look so pissed and hostile had been when Joseph called him Rob in front of everyone, the first barbeque Sam attended after moving here. It was the kind of look that made clear Robert was absolutely not in the mood for talking. Wisely, Craig stayed silent for the remainder of the drive.

The cul-de-sac looked just like it had when they left, yet where he had found comfort in the drowsiness of the neighbourhood, it now appeared foreboding. Robert braked hard and brought the truck to a stop in front of Craig’s house, still not saying a single word. Slowly, Craig climbed out of the truck and shouldered his bag. “Robert-“

Robert reached over and closed the door. He didn’t even spare Craig a look before he drove off and left Craig standing. Frozen in shock, Craig watched as Robert drove past his house and left the neighbourhood the opposite way they’d arrived.

“What the fuck.”

-----------------

<Hey Robert, what’s wrong, man? And don’t tell me it’s nothing because it sure as hell didn’t look like that>

-----------------

<Did I do something during full moon? I can’t remember, everything’s in bits and pieces, but if I did, I’m sorry, bro, but you gotta talk to me>

<Please, bro, don’t just ignore me>

-----------------

<Either you left your truck somewhere else and walked or you haven’t been back for a week>

<Please, Robert, talk to me>

-----------------

<Robert?>

<This isn’t funny bro>

-----------------

The truck came back two weeks after the last full moon. Craig walked up to Robert’s house the morning after. As far as he could tell, no one was home, but his instincts told him that Robert was there. So he knocked. And knocked again. He knocked until his hand started to hurt and then switched to the other.

"Robert!” He yelled. “I know you're home! You can’t just keep on ignoring me! That’s not cool, bro. I don’t even know what I did!"

Next door, Joseph’s eldest, Chris, left the house. Craig felt his cold and unmoving gaze on him as the kid continued on his way. It wouldn’t have surprised him had the child’s head turned 180° to keep on staring even as he walked the other direction, but nothing of that sort happened. He toned it down after that, though, since he didn’t want the whole neighbourhood to hear.

“Robert, please. I thought we’d become bros, over the last month, and now you’re just cutting me off out of the blue.” Craig’s hand unclutched and he rested it on the wooden frame with his palm. “Please, bro, I…”

The words lay on his tongue, but he couldn’t make himself say them out loud. Defeated, he dropped his arm and turned his back to the door. The way back to his own house felt longer than it was in reality.

-----------------

<Please>

-----------------

He told himself he’d got over the whole Robert situation, but that was a lie, and he damn-well knew it. As cheesy as it sounded, Robert’s sudden absence left a hole in his life, one he, when it had still been filled, hadn’t noticed but now, that it was empty, felt all the more. And god, did thinking about it hurt. Last time he’d felt like this had been when Smashley sat him down and said, “We need to talk”. It very much felt like a divorce, too.

He dove back into work to distract himself, but no matter how much overtime he did, no matter how often he went to the gym, he couldn’t forget. Robert had said all wounds would heal, but this one just didn’t.

The girls had noticed, but he managed to assure them everything was fine. Sam tried to make him relax, but the moment Craig stood still, the pain came flooding back, so he kept on moving. Most of the time, that was a figure of speech, but sometimes, as was the case now, it was literally.

River had become cranky during the last ten minutes of his run, not used to the longer laps just yet, so he’d cut through some backyards in order to get home faster. Right afterwards, he’d put River to bed, expecting her to sleep for the next three to five hours, but only half an hour later, she began to cry.

“What is it, sweetpea?” He opened the door to her nursery and walked up to her crib. “Hey, River baby, what’s got you so…” The crib was empty, besides her. “Oh no, where’s Arnold? Didn’t you have him when I put you to bed?” Hearing the name just made River cry harder. He picked her up and bounced her on his arm, but that didn’t calm her down at all. “Did you drop him, sweetpea?”

One search through the house later, Craig realised they must have lost the capybara outside. Quickly throwing together a small bag pack with baby essentials, he jogged over to Sam. His bro opened the door looking like he’d just woken up from a nap, but straightened up immediately upon seeing them. “Bro! What’s wrong?”

“We lost Arnold,” he gasped out between breaths. “I took a long route today, don’t want to carry River all the way and back. Could you watch her while I’m gone? I know it’s your free day but-“

Sam put a hand on Craig’s arm. “Bro, of course I can. Come here, motek, come to Uncle Sam. Your Daddy’s going to find Arnold and bring him back, you don’t have to worry.” He kept up the stream of nonsensical babbling and reassurances even as Craig mouthed his thanks and walked away.

It wasn’t in any of the backyards he’d crossed, nor in the park. He searched behind every stick and stone, every tree and bush, but still came up empty-handed. His muscles burned because of the extortion, but he didn’t falter. In all his brooding, he hadn’t even noticed he lost his baby’s favourite plushie. What kind of father was he? A shitty one.

As his last resort, he began knocking on doors. Mat hadn’t seen a rodent native to South America, nor had Brian and Daisy (and they assured him Maxwell hadn’t shredded one either). Joseph’s twins just stared creepily, so he left quickly and just hoped they hadn’t found it. For a moment, he considered knocking on Robert’s door, but abandoned that trail of thought immediately. He dropped by Sam’s house to pick up River again and dejectedly walked home.

He was so busy trying to calm River down, he didn’t notice someone was standing in front of his door until the person cleared their throat. Craig’s head snapped up. “Robert?” He blurted out.

The older man shifted weight from one foot to the other. In lieu of a greeting, he lifted…

“Arnold!” River immediately stopped crying and reached for her toy. Thankfully, Robert stepped within reach, because Craig couldn’t move. After weeks of not seeing him, for Robert to just show up, with Arnold of all things… He was confused, hurt, hopeful, angry, all at the same time, and, caught in that emotional whirlwind, only managed a, “Where?”

Robert shrugged. “Lay in my backyard. Found him and remembered it’s hers, so I came to bring him back.”

“T-thank you, man.”

Robert waved his hand dismissively, then dropped his arm back to his side. Shifted weight again. Craig cleared his throat. And River, oblivious to the awkward tension between the two men, cooed and gurgled, happy to have Arnold back.

“Robert—“

“I better go—“

Both of them fell silent again. Craig tried catching Robert’s eyes, but the other man was averting his gaze, his own eyes firmly fixed on the floor. Now that Craig had got over his shock, he noticed just how bad Robert looked. His beard was long and unclean, his hair an unkempt, greasy mess. The shirt he was wearing looked like it had already been worn for weeks, if not more, and there were dark rings under his eyes.

Brown eyes.

A shiver ran down Craig’s spine. Robert seemed to notice; his brows furrowed and a dark shadow fell over his face. Without a word, he turned to leave. Craig didn’t think, he just reached out. Robert tried to pull his arm free, but Craig tightened his grip, hard enough to leave bruises. “We,” he said firmly, “need to talk.”

Robert scowled. “I swear to all the gods of religions young and old, if you don’t let me go this second, I’ll—“

“You practically threw me out of your car and drove away. I didn’t see you for two and a half weeks. You cut off all communication, after the most confusing night of my life, a night I can barely remember. You, Robert Small, do not get to make threats.” He tightened his grip and jerked his head towards his front door. “You’re going to follow me inside and wait while I put River to bed. And then you’re going to explain yourself because I damn well deserve an explanation.”

“Kid—“

“No. You don’t have a choice.”

He knew that if Robert really refused, he’d have no way of forcing him through the door, not with River balanced on his free arm. But Robert didn’t look like he’d bolt the second Craig let go of him. And he didn’t. With an air of defeat about him, Robert followed Craig into the living room and sat down on the couch while Craig put River back to bed. Somehow, he got the distinct impression that she was smug about something, but couldn’t figure out what that could be.

Robert was still there when he came back. Craig leant against the wall in front of him and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Talk.”

“Craig…”

“No, I said talk, you talk. You avoided me for two and a half weeks, Robert. People don’t do that without a good reason. The evening before the full moon, everything was fine, so it must have been something that happened in the night, and I don’t remember what happened. Not all of it, that is.”

“That’s normal. You weren’t yourself.” Something about Robert’s intonation set off the alarm bells in Craig’s head.

“But you remember, right? You retain all of your consciousness while shifted. Tell me.”

Robert sighed. “You shifted. I tried to calm you down, but you growled and ran away. I shifted too, ran after you. We grabbled and I pinned you on the ground and kept you there until you submitted to me. Then we hunted.”

“That’s it? Then why—“

“No, that’s not it. For fuck’s sake, Craig, why can’t you just accept things as they are? Why are you so fucking bothered by me disappearing?”

“Because you’re my friend, Robert!” Craig pushed off the wall and pointed at the other man. “Because I thought we’d grown close that last month and then you suddenly cut me off. Because—“

“Because you have feelings for me, is that it?” Craig stared at him in disbelief, his anger gone in a flash. Robert, on the other hand, got on his feet and began pacing like a caged animal. “When will it get into your goddamn head that I’m not a good person? I stayed away from you for two fucking weeks to make you realise that and yet you still come crawling! I’m a bad man, Craig, I’m a depressed alcoholic with mood swings and so much self-hatred even you couldn’t lift the weight of it! I’m not good as a friend, I’m not good for your kids and your health, and I certainly should not be the person you get a fucking gay crush on! I’m the fucking reason you were turned! It’s my fault!”

At Craig’s stunned silence, Robert snarled and whipped around. “You want to know what happened? When you shifted back, your mind wasn’t still quite there. I knew that. Yet when you kissed me, when you threw yourself at me, I didn’t push you off and stop, I kissed you back and we had sex!”

You weren’t yourself. The words echoed in Craig’s brain. He took a step forward and reached out, but Robert pushed his hand away. “Robert—“

“I fucked a guy who wasn’t in full control of himself!”

“Robert, I’m not—“

“And you know what? If that’s still not enough to make you realise what a shitty person I am, guess what!” Robert threw his arms up. His eyes were sparkling with unshed tears. "My wife didn't die in a car accident. She was in a car alright, but it wasn’t another driver who fucking killed her, that was me!"

Craig’s blood ran cold. “What? But I thought it was a drunk driver.”

“It wasn’t,” Robert snarled. “It was full moon. My third. My wife followed me as I ran into the forest, she was in her car, calling for me. I wasn’t thinking straight, I ran on the road and she didn’t have the time to brake. She jerked the wheel, the car swerved, she lost control and hit… She hit… I ran away but when I came to… I stumbled through the forest, on the road, and there she was, she was…”

Whatever he wanted to say was lost in heart-wrenching sobbing. Craig barely made it in time to catch him as Robert’s legs gave in. “Ssh, it’s okay, Robert, it’s okay…” It wasn’t, they both knew that. But Craig didn’t know what else to say. All he could do was rub Robert’s back and hold him as sobs wrecked through the older man’s body. This close, he smelled the alcohol on Robert’s breath.

Craig didn’t know how long they sat there, but his butt and knees were slowly starting to hurt, and he couldn’t imagine it was comfortable for Robert either. “Robert, bro, let’s get up on the couch. Yeah, that’s it, just lean on me, I’ve got you.” He gently guided Robert’s head to rest on his shoulder and pulled him into his lap, holding him close. After some time, the sobs quieted, even as the tears continued to leave a damp spot on his shoulder that was beginning to get cold. “Bro, you’re not a bad person. You’re a troubled man carrying more weight than fucking Atlas. None of this is your fault. You told me, you’re not in control of yourself the first shifts. You weren’t in control. You didn’t kill your wife, because you’re not the reason she crashed. It was an accident.”

“It wasn’t—“

“It was. I know me saying that won’t change anything, but bro, it was an accident. As was me being turned. That wasn’t your fault either. You’re only human… well… you’re just one person. How are you supposed to protect the whole of Maple Bay and the surrounding forests and mountains, all by yourself? And…”

Robert looked up and sniffled. Craig couldn’t help himself, he reached out and wiped his tears away. His hands stayed where they were, cupping Robert’s face. He looked so vulnerable, so damn tired, it made Craig’s heart break in half. “I’m… I’m almost thankful. Because—“

“If you say because we would never have started talking and texting, I’ll rip your throat out.”

Craig laughed. “Bro, I’m trying my hand at emotional comfort. Don’t make fun of me.” He shook his head. “As for… the sex.” He blushed, the bits he did remember flashing in his mind. “I… I might not have been in control but… bro, I’d lie if I said I didn’t think about jumping you before that. It’s not just a gay crush. You’re not the first dude I’ve ever shown interest in. But bro, if it’s up to me, you might as well be the last. I know you don’t see yourself in the best light, but bro, to me, you’re… You’re the funniest guy I’ve ever met. You’re mysterious and dark and broody and somehow I find that really sexy, but it’s not just a physical thing? Don’t get me wrong, I’m super pissed I can’t remember our first time, but I really hope- Shit, I never stopped to ask if you— Hmpf!”

He glared at Robert, but the hand stayed where it was, covering his mouth. “For the love of everything paranormal, please stop rambling.” He raised his eyebrows at Craig and after Craig nodded, dropped his hand. “You’re insane. Anyone ever tell you that? You could have everyone in this stupid town and yet you—“

“I don’t want anyone else, bro.”

Robert shook his head, but his lips were twitching and he’d finally stopped crying. Suddenly aware of their position, Craig tried scooting backwards, but Robert fisted his shirt and kept him in place with an annoyed expression. “And somehow, I believe you. Fuck, you’re so goddamn honest with everything but yourself, it’s- It’s so frustrating. You see the best in everyone and are optimistic, it shouldn’t be possible, no one’s so selfless but… But you make me want to better myself. You make me want to quit drinking and pick up the slack, just so I can be who you see. And for a month, before the full moon, I thought I was getting there, but then everything happened…” He looked away again and took a deep breath. “I’m not a good person, Craigory, whether you want to admit it or not.”

“Maybe,” Craig conceded. Robert’s head snapped upward and he looked so afraid, as if he worried he had finally convinced Craig of his view. “But neither am I. We’re both self-destructive, aren’t we? But, Robert, I… I don’t care about any of that. All I care about is that these last two weeks I missed you. I didn’t know what I’d done and I wished you’d just tell me, so I could fix it.”

“You can’t fix me, Craig. You can’t expect me to—fuck, I might never get better. Or my version of better is still shitty compared to everyone else. I don’t want you to be disappointed. I’m not some charity case, I can’t be that—“

“Bro, I don’t want to fix you. I mean, I do, but it’s not the only reason.” Craig let out a frustrated huff and ran a hand through his hair. “I suck at communication, dude. Smashley always called me Communication Craig ironically, how do I word.”

Robert raised an eyebrow. Without the red eyes and tear tracks, he would almost look like he always did. “Pot meets fucking kettle.” Craig snorted. We’re both a fucking mess, one way or the other. “I still think you’re insane.”

“Says the guy who let the neighbourhood believe for half a year that his damn name is Daniel McSturgiss.”

“That wasn’t insane, it was genius.”

Craig rolled his eyes. “Sure, bro.”

“If I may continue, bro.” Robert narrowed his eyes at him. “I still think you’re insane. But if you… if you give me a chance, if you… if you stand at my side, then I… I think I could become a better man. I think I could become a man worthy of your-“ He waved his hand about.

“Your…?”

“Don’t fucking make me say it, pup.” Robert growled. His eyes were sparkling again, but not, like before, because of tears, not only; there was a hopefulness to their glimmer now. He pressed closer, until they were chest-to-chest, not an inch between them, and leant down. Their noses were brushing now. It would take next to nothing to lean in… Craig saw Robert’s eyes flicker down to his lips, then back up again. “Can I kiss you, kid?”

“Please.”

And they did.

-----------------

He’s running.

The wind is brushing through his fur, like a gentle caress urging him forward and forward through the forest.

The plethora of scents in his nose are confusing, but two stand out, and he follows the strongest one, the one he is intimately familiar with.

He’s running, dirt under his paws, twigs in his fur, tongue lolling out of his mouth.

There is no prey he was hunting this time, no woodland creature running away from him, running from its doom. He breaks through the darkness of the forest, out into the cloudless night and the shine of the moon, and slows down as the overlook comes into view.

He puts his front paws on the wooden blockade and throws his head back, howling.

Immediately, there is an answer. Out of the bushes behind him comes a wolf, fur as dark as his own, but linked with streaks of grey. The other does not slow down, but tackles him, and they’re tussling, rolling around in the dirt.

He’s on his back and the other wolf above him, brown eyes staring unblinking into his own. Their tails are throwing the dust up in the air because of how hard they are wagging, thumping on the ground. He yips and leans up to lick over the other wolf’s snout, who huffs and playfully nips on his ear. He tries to wriggle free, but the greying wolf’s weight is unrelenting, keeping him in place.

Until it isn’t anymore. He jumps to his paws and yips again with his butt high up in the air. The other wolf regards him with a look that says really, but doesn’t stop him from pawing at him, from bumping their shoulders and sides together as he jumps around.

The other wolf pushes his nose down in the dirt and sniffs. Then he looks up, jerks his head back towards the forest and runs.

After a few moments, the other wolf howls.

Lying his head back, Craig gives an answering howl before breaking into a sprint. Robert’s scent guides him to their prey.