This Is Not The House That Pain Built-Part 2

[beanside]

As the other pack’s Alpha disappeared into the kitchen door, Chad relaxed a little. There was something off about the other man’s scent, and it made him cautious. It wasn’t tainted. Just... fragile. He wasn’t about to let the man carry either of the people in the back of the van. Not that they were getting Jeremy away from Vicki without a blowtorch.

Now, onto Misha. Misha’s injuries frankly scared the fuck out of him; for a brief moment, he wondered if it would be better to take him to the ER.

If he thought for a minute that there was a level three or higher trauma unit nearby, he’d be all over it. But since there wasn’t... “Kane, go inside. Make sure the table is steady and strong enough for this. I’m going to get Misha onto the sheet and then go scrub in the RV. Jeff, you help Jared get Misha settled onto the table, and then come with me, so I won’t have to touch any doors. Did you take any hits?” His mind whirled ahead to what he was going to do, and what he might have to do if things went downhill.

“No. I’m good.”

“Fine. Stay close. You’re the only one in the pack who matches Misha’s blood type. I could use one of the O negs, but your blood has more power. Jared, I’ll need you to fire up the generator, and also stay close. You’re my O negative back up, plus if I need to bag him, you’ve got the strongest hands.”

Chad nodded as Smith hurried out with a clean sheet to fix a makeshift stretcher up. He gently rolled Misha in place, cursing softly under his breath as he felt Misha’s spleen tear, just a little. “Change of plans. Smith. Go back in, get a big container of alcohol. Bring it out to me.”

“What happened?” Jeff asked, voice tight.

“No time to scrub.” When Smith came back out, he held out his hands, wincing a little at the blood already coating them. “Disinfect me,” Chad ordered.

No stranger to battlefield medicine, Smith poured the liquid slowly enough that he could scrub his hands under it. It would have to do. “I’m going to go get gloves on. When I yell, I need you to carefully lift Misha. Try to keep his body as close to the position it’s in now, but more important, get him inside fast.” He resisted the urge to rub his eyes. “His spleen is leaking, and when you lift him, it’s going to blow.”

He headed for the door, and let Adrianne slip gloves on him, and hand him the scalpel. “As soon as he gets in here, I want you to push 15ccs of Proprol. I want him under as deep as we can make him. Then, push about 30ccs of Bushmills for me,” he managed, forcing himself to relax. He could do this. He would do this.

At the edge of his field of vision, he saw Vicki settling in with Jeremy, swatting his shoulder when he tried to be too helpful. Somehow, the familiarity of it all settled him. He wouldn’t let Vicki down, either. Or Jeremy. After five years as a trauma nurse, and then four years in this pack, pressure and he were old friends. The more the stakes were down, the better he was. He put his chin up and went over towards Vicki. “When I open him up, it’s going to look bad. Lots of blood bubbling up. I’m going to pull his spleen, and I’m going to be working fast, no time for words. Any questions, let me know now.”

Vicki shook her head slightly. “No questions. I trust you and your magic hands, baby.” She forced a gallows smile, and Chad returned it.

“He’s gonna make it, Vicks. No other options.” Chad met Vicki and Jeremy’s eyes before he stood up and squared his shoulders. “Bring him in.”

With three werewolves bringing him in, it took less than three seconds. Chad swore he could hear the blood sloshing in Misha’s abdomen by the time he was laid gently on the table. Adrianne anticipated his wishes, setting up a second IV, and putting them both on full drip.

Even braced for it, Chad still had to wince at the amount of blood that welled up over the edges of the cut. “Adrianne, get Jeff prepped for a transfusion, just in case.”

It probably took a grand total of a minute, but he swore he felt every tick of the clock. It was measured by Misha’s steady heartbeat. Finally, he put the last stitch in, and used power to cauterize smaller blood vessels. He was almost done when he felt the first flutter of arrhythmia.

“Shit. Three MLs of epi,” Chad said, voice sharp with fear. “Don’t you even think about it, asshole. I didn’t haul my ass across the state of by-god Texas to bury you.”

Misha’s heartbeat continued to stutter as Adrianne got the epinephrine, and then it tanked all at once. Chad felt power whip past him; Jeremy was trying to pin Misha to his body, the stubborn bastard, even if it meant sharing the pain.

Then the syringe of epinephrine was in Chad’s hand. He didn’t hesitate, shoving it home. There was a momentary flutter of a heartbeat, and then silence. “Fine. We can do this the hard way.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the blood running down Jeremy’s face as he pushed more power, see Vicki’s hand clutching Jeremy hard enough to bruise. He saw Jeff step up, and Chad nodded.

“One quarter. Through me. I’ll channel.” He laid a hand on Misha’s chest, beginning compressions, even as Jared moved in to start bagging. Adrianne was filling syringes like a pro, anticipating the next step in the dance.

“Chad,” Jeff said softly. To anyone else, it might have sounded like a plea to let Misha go. The other Alpha obviously thought so, making a sharp noise of protest. “You sure?”

“Hit me.” He stilled his hands, and placed them on each side of Misha’s heart, bracing his knees. “Jare, step back.”

“In three, two, one, now,” Jeff chanted. He placed his hands on Chad’s shoulders, warm and comforting. At the word now, power, pure energy slid through his skin, into his veins and down his arms. It hurt like someone was burning him from the inside out, but he focused, channelled the power down his arms into his palms. Then, once the power was all there, burning in his hands like a tiny dying sun, he thrust it into Misha. Head swimming, he waited a moment, listening for the heart beat.

It thumped twice, and then began to flutter again, out of rhythm. “Okay. Again. Fifty percent.”

Jeff nodded, and Chad looked over a Vicki and Jeremy. The blood was coming from his ears now, too, but he was clinging to Misha’s mind, soul, whatever you wanted to call it.

“Ready.”

Chad braced again, waiting until Jared stepped back. Adrianne took another moment to finish the medication protocol they used. It would kill a human. But then again, they weren’t human.

As she stepped back, Chad clenched his jaw, and nodded. This time, there was no count. Just raw agony. If the first one had felt like a dying sun, this was a supernova in progress. He felt himself stumble under the onslaught, felt Jeff’s hands steady him.

Then, he was in control again, and forcing the power to his will. He slammed it into Misha’s chest, ignoring the tiny sizzle where his hands met skin.

He held his breath for a moment, and in the dead silence of the room, they all could hear it when Misha’s heart started beating again. Chad shuddered, letting his head drop forward. “Okay,” he muttered hoarsely. “Adrianne, I’m going to close the abdomen now. 4.0 dissolvables?”

She handed him the sutures, along with a healthy dose of power. Her power was soft, steady. It was just what he needed. He flashed her a smile, and began suturing the things he couldn’t heal right away.

And through it all, Misha’s heart beat a steady tattoo in his chest.

*********

Jensen thought that it probably should worry him that the other pack worked together so smoothly. It spoke of years of friendship, and a whole lot of practice. They outnumbered his pack, most of them well-fed and healthy.

Their healer was something he’d never seen. Never heard of.

After he’d closed Misha’s skin with a little tendril of power, he’d gotten Jared to give Misha some blood while he finished splinting and re-locating a variety of bones throughout Misha’s shattered body. Chad hadn’t faltered once. By the time he’d finished, the color was creeping back into Misha’s cheeks.

And this was their healer. He wasn’t even the third most powerful person he’d met in the pack. If he’d let Vicki call them sooner, if he’d known...

Tricia would be alive, taunted that little voice in Jensen’s head, that gnawing restless guilt.

Their alpha scared him. He’d never seen someone whose wolf rode so close to the surface. His strength was impressive. When he’d started to fall on the ride back, and Jensen had grabbed him, visions of lost time and Misha’s life hanging in the balance, the man’s wolf had nipped him hard enough to stir his own wolf from dormancy.

That was distracting. Jensen hadn’t needed his wolf riding him, with its constant desire for running and food and sleep. He couldn’t deny that some part of him wanted to slip outside, see if he could shift. Maybe bury his nose in the curls at the other alpha’s nape to see what he smelled like...

Jensen snuck a hand under the sleeve of his shirt, pinched skin, and twisted until he bruised. Stupid wolf.

It snarled back at him, a cold fire that he hadn’t felt in months. If he didn’t watch it, the wolf would take control, like it used to. No matter that it was a part of him, it was a wild animal. Dangerous.

His abdomen cramped its familiar warning, seconds before the real pain hit. He had time to grab the kitchen counter and bite his lip before nightmare teeth seemed to tear his belly open.

He watched as Vicki heaved herself upright. The lanky wolf who’d picked her up--Jeremy, his mind reminded him, an alpha always had to remember names-- stood to help her. Chad glanced over and lifted his lip. He didn’t even bother to growl, and Vicki sat back down.

God, Jensen needed to know that skill. The last nine months, with Vick pregnant and pissy, it had been a Herculean effort to get her to do anything.

Jensen knelt next to Jeremy, looking past him at Vicki. “You okay?”

She smiled gently. “I’m fine. In labor, not injured, Chad,” she said sharply, voice dripping with annoyance.

Without looking at her, Chad waved dismissively.

Jeremy wiped at his cheek. For the first time, Jensen saw the river of blood trailing from his ear and down his neck.

“Jere,” Jeff barked. “Stop trying to check the perimeter. Alona’s on it. Do I have to knock you out again?”

Jeremy glowered at Jeff, but tilted his head up to expose throat. His low unhappy whine made Jensen wince in sympathy. Getting to his feet, Jensen scooped up a towel from the counter and a bottle of water. Then he went over to Jeremy, wet the cloth and lifted it. Didn’t touch Jeremy, not without permission. “Seer?”

Jeremy tensed, looking sidelong at Vicki for confirmation, then nodded. The tilt of his head was enough to show deference, without acknowledging Jensen as his Alpha.

Gently, Jensen began to clean the blood off Jeremy’s skin. Up close, he saw a myriad of little trails of blood where Jeremy had wiped it away with his fingers.

“Does your alpha do that often?” Jensen asked, keeping his voice mild. “Threaten to knock you out?”

Vicki’s eyes darted to him, probably disapproving of the question. She trusted Jeff enough to ask him for help, yes, but Jensen needed to know what kind of Alpha he’d allowed into his territory. It wasn’t a reflection on Vicki; people changed in five years. Besides, hadn’t she trusted Page once, too?

Jeremy shrugged. He looked tired, the skin tight around his eyes. Migraine from power overuse. “Only if he thinks I’m going to hurt myself, or if I try to do something he thinks I shouldn’t. I-I don’t know how to do the political thing. Jeff keeps me from getting into trouble.”

“You seem fine to me, “ Jensen said.

A soft snort of something that wasn’t quite humor came with a shake of Jeremy’s head. “I spent most of my life locked in a room, chained in a chair. I didn’t learn how to be nice. And...” Jeremy glanced at Vicki again, then continued almost shyly, “And I’m wolf-born.”

Jeremy was holding his breath, waiting for Jensen to condemn him. Page would have, Jensen knew. Page would’ve recited dogma about wolf-borns being dangerous psychotics at best, and then he’d have put Jeremy in the shed to keep him from hurting anybody.

“Yes,” Jensen said. “I know. You were holding Misha to his body when he coded, weren’t you? I could feel the power.”

Relaxing a little, Jeremy shrugged. “I knew Chad would fix his body. I wanted him to still be there.”

Vicki leaned over and nuzzled against Jeremy’s shoulder. Twitching, Jeremy looked wild-eyed at her, like she might bite him. Whatever he saw in her smile gentled him enough to smile back at her.

“I’m not good with power, but I can offer blood, if you would want it,” Jensen said softly. He glanced over at Jeff and found him deep in discussion with the healer.

Jeremy seemed to consider it for a long moment, then nodded. “Yeah. That would be-- I could do that if you want.”

Jensen pulled the silver knife out of the sheath and reached for his arm, but Jeremy shook his head. “Silver makes the blood taste bad.”

Jeremy’s teeth sharpened, the nails on one hand darkening and growing thicker until they resembled wolf claws. A partial shift took power, and this casual display troubled Jensen more than Chad resurrecting Misha on their kitchen table.

It took trust to offer his wrist to those teeth, especially with paranoia screaming in his head. Jensen didn’t hesitate, sliding his wrist across Jeremy’s teeth. The edge of Jeremy’s canine cut like a razor, so sharp that its sting came a few moments late. His cut would barely bleed, but Jensen guessed it made a nice gesture.

Jeremy’s dry lips pressed against Jensen’s inner wrist, a startling kiss. His eyes seemed to pull at Jensen, expecting something from him.

The world shifted, and Jensen felt himself fall for a moment before landing on solid, dark earth. A dark wolf stood in front of him, head tilted slightly.

*Me.* the wolf informed him in Jeremy’s voice. *Sorry. Blood calls to blood, power to power, and wolf to....*

Jensen felt the movement behind him, saw the pale fur that he hadn’t seen since summertime. His wolf. It slunk around him, giving him a wide berth as it crept to Jeremy.

Jeremy immediately dropped down, offering Jensen’s wolf his throat. Jensen squeezed his eyes shut, fervently hoping that his wolf would behave, and wondering what happened if the wolf ripped Jeremy’s throat out while he was in Jensen’s mind. Or whatever the hell this was.

*I would die. And yes, this is your mind, your wolf’s mind.*

When he opened his eyes, his wolf was eyeing him reproachfully. Stupid wolf.

In the back of his mind, he felt more than heard another voice. *stupid human*

“He doesn’t like you much,” Jeremy said flatly. “He says that you won’t let him have any fun.”

Jensen glanced back at Jeremy, then averted his eyes quickly when he realized that the Jeremy in his brain had shifted back...and was naked, of course.

Jeremy huffed. “You can look.”

Well, at least he’d put on pants. You’d think after a summer with Misha and Vicki running around naked or near-naked would have dulled the reactions drilled into him by seminary.

“Holy shit, you were a priest?” Jeremy yelped. “No wonder you’re such a trainwreck.”

“Wait, I didn’t say-”

“I’m in your mind, and I’m a telepath.”

“see, human is stupid. should let me make decisions instead.” Jensen’s wolf sat in front of him, green eyes glaring.

“No I shouldn’t! You’d eat and sleep and probably shit in my files!” Jensen shot back.

The wide wolf smile he got was not reassuring.

“Besides,” Jensen said. “You want to do other things. You want to hurt people.”

Jeremy’s eyes sharpened, and he made an abortive gesture toward Jensen’s wolf.

”no. not hurt unless fangs are needed. wanted sex, no hurt.”

Jeremy gave him a sidelong look, and Jensen shook his head. “He...I don’t know. It felt like he was out of control.”

no. just not in your control”

Jensen glared at him, and felt the world shift around him again, until they were in the kitchen. Jeremy had a scowl on his face, but his throat was bared, and next to him was--

“I would think,” Jeff said mildly. “That when you have blood coming out of your ears, you would know better than to keep using power.”

Jeremy shrugged slightly. “I was talking to the other alpha’s-” He broke off as Jeff growled low in his throat.

“Don’t,” the other alpha snarled. “You know better. One more time, and I will put you under for the next eight hours.”

“But, Misha-and Vick-labor,”Jeremy stuttered.

“Then don’t make me knock your dumb ass out, Jer.” Jeff’s face was hard, unmoved.

Jensen watched Jeremy deflate and felt his wolf stir, growling. For once, they were in agreement. “Alpha,” Jensen said quietly, putting every ounce of his hard won authority into the words, “a moment?”

Jeff looked at Vicki, glanced back at Misha, and raised an eyebrow. “Now?”

Jensen’s teeth ground, but he kept his voice soft. “Yes. Now.”

***********

Jeff followed him, watching the way the man held himself tense. Not in a aggressive way, he decided. Cautious. Probably wasn't sure what to do with them. He stepped closer, sniffing the air. Something... odd in his scent. He couldn't quite place it. Almost a metalilic, ozone smell, but not the rich copper of blood.

Jeff was still puzziing it out when Jensen stopped and turned. He seemed startled that Jeff was so close, but masked it, reaching past him to close the door of the little room they were in.

Some kind of pantry. If there had been anything but a shelf of dwindling Ensure six packs and Cliff bars, it might have been crowded. As it was, Jeff wondered how the acoustics were. Kane and Zach had been looking for somewhere to record a couple of songs to release online.

They'd been approached by WereStone for an interview and photo shoot to coincide with their next batch of music. When the scout had come to meet the duo, he'd recognized Jeff as D. Morgan, but he'd convinced the man that this article was for them. He'd promised a full interview when he was in Chicago for his next showing in three months.

Jensen made a soft noise in his throat, bringing his attention back to the other man.

“Sorry. Woolgathering. What can I do for you, Jensen?” Jeff deliberately omitted the title to watch the little twist of Jensen's full lips at the breach in protocol.

“I can't police how you and your pack interact,” he said, lifting his eyes to meet Jeff's in a challenge that made Jeff's wolf snort with laughter. “But I would appreciate it if you would refrain from threatening physical violence against your pack in front of my people.”

For a moment, Jeff was confused. Violence? He'd never threaten anyone, and certainly not his pack. Half of them were survivors of abuse. “If this is about before-”

Jade green eyes looked confused for a moment, then softened. “No. That-” Jensen broke of with a sharp motion of his hand. “I understand. It was a high stress situation, and I grabbed you unexpectedly. It's understandable. Your wolf wasn't trying to hurt me, just warning me off.”

“Oh, is that what it was,” Jeff said softly. Jensen was Alpha. He couldn't be this naive.

“No, I mean Jeremy,” Jensen said, more firmly.

Of all the things he could have said, that was the last he expected. “Jeremy?”

“You threatened to knock him unconscious. That sounds rather violent,” Jensen said, voice frosty with disdain.

“He's a seer,” Jeff said, waiting for him to understand.

“Yes. And while I know he disobeyed an order, and it's within your rights, I don't want my pack to be any more afraid than necessary of the wolves in their house. They've been through enough.”

Jeff felt his wolf rising, felt his temper shredding under a rush of power and fury. This Alpha was questioning how he treated his pack, his friends. It wouldn't be allowed, mate or not. He would show the little wolf what violence was.

Jeff grabbed his wolf and shoved it down. He looked at Jensen and held up a finger, before turning away. It took a moment, but finally the wolf settled.

***********

Jensen smelled power. It boiled around him hot and angry, and he felt his own wolf rising to the challenge. Then, it was gone, and Jeff was turning back with a forced bland look.

The scent of anger was still there, but it was obvious that Jeff could leash himself well. “I apologize if I traumatized your pack. Jeremy and I have a... tie. It lets me knock him out if he does something that can harm himself. You must’ve seen Vicki do the same to Misha?”

Jensen looked at him confused for a moment. “Vicki do what to Misha?”

Jeff sighed deeply. “Tell him to fucking quit it when he's overtaxing his power.”

He thought about it, thought about all the tines that he'd worried about Misha using too much power, all the times Vicki had stepped in and spoke softly to him, face serious, only for Misha to growl back, snap and snark, then give in with a grumble. The realization made him feel stupid, which pissed him off.

“My point stands. My pack wouldn't understand the distinction, and I would appreciate you being careful of your word--” Jensen broke off as his stomach cramped viciously, ripping him apart. He breathed slowly, waiting it out.

“Alpha? Alpha!” He dimly heard Jeff's voice, but couldn't answer, couldn't let anything pass his lips because it might be screaming. The pain started to loosen its grip, and he swallowed.

“Jensen.” Jeff said firmly. “I'm getting Chad, just stay put.”

Chad. The healer. “No,” he gasped. He forced himself upright, lifting his head to meet Jeff's eyes. “I'm fine. Just a stomach cramp. I must have drank your healer's Wolfsure too fast. My stomach's not used to actual nutrition.” From the look on Jeff's face, he wasn't fooling anyone. He'd be surprised if Chad wasn't sniffing around him almost right away.

Fortunately, he was well versed in avoiding helpful people. There was no use wasting the healer's time. He already knew the outcome of this story. He just needed a few minutes to finish up the paperwork and to amend the contracts before he died.

He ducked out of the pantry, murmuring a few more platitudes to the other Alpha. He might not be as well versed as Jeff, but he knew what his path was. It was freeing in a way.

He had been swimming in syrup for what felt like forever. First, he had tried to serve God, but it was patently obvious that if there was a God, he didn't give a good damn about Jensen.

Then, he'd been bitten. One teenage girl, begging him for absolution in the confessional, begging for him to say that she wasn't going to hell for being bitten. One moment, he'd been stuttering over what to say to the child, the next a growl was resounding through the screen. She'd come straight through the wooden screen at him. Only his priest collar and the delicate silver embroidery on it had saved his life, and damned his soul.

Excommunicated from his church and family, he'd been cast out, alone, with barely enough food and money to survive. Page had found him, stumbling along the road, mostly starved.

Then the shed, and the silver, burning his skin, new scars to join the ones on his throat. New scars on his soul. He'd killed, fought Horseriver for six months. Lost more pack in those five months than Page had in five years.

And today, it was over. Horseriver was obliterated by a pack unlike any other he'd seen.

His pack would be safe.

***********
Jeff gave Chad a mental poke. “I'm going to go get the rest of the IV stuff and Jer's migraine stuff out of the truck. Could you show me what else you'll need?”

For a second, he thought Chad would blurt out something to blow the charade, then he caught on. “Yeah. Okay. Jare, you Kane and Smith take Misha up to the room. Vicki, if you'll let Jeremy help you, you can go up ahead of him and get settled and changed. I'll bring a basin up to help you get cleaned up before I check you over.”

“I'm on the basin,” Adrianne murmured. “And some extra cloths, plus a pitcher of water to use when the first gets dirty.” She moved into action, flashing a smile at Vicki. “If that's okay with you. I know you don't know me yet.” Her nose scrunched up in the way that Jeff found especially charming.

“That's fine,” Vicki said, returning the smile. “Easier with a girl.”

Chad snorted. “You do remember that I've seen your tits before.” He nodded towards her shirt. “Though I will admit, they're looking magnificent right now.”

Jeremy slid a protective arm around Vicki, easing her up to her feet. Behind them, Jeff got a look at the startled look on Jensen's face. Awesome. He was a prude, and naive as hell. Jeff got all the breaks.

Chad followed him outside, and looked at him impatiently. “Okay, what is it?”

“We have a problem.”

“What, the Alpha wants us to leave? He can go fuck himself.”

“No. On the drive back, he... I. Our wolves, um.” Jeff faltered.

Chad sniffed him. “Mated. Fuuuuck. I see the problem.”

“Yes. No. That's part of it.”

“Guess you'll have to remove the stick from his ass before you can get in there, huh?” Chad snorted.

“He's sick. He was having cramps back in the pantry, and I could smell...” Jeff closed his eyes, trying to put a name to it. “Ozone. A thick smell, like blood, but not. Power, oozing out. Remember the Alpha of the pack in the Rockies a few years ago?”

“The one whose second had been feeding him silver? You think their alpha has silver poisoning?”

“I don't know. He just had that feel. Like his power was twisted, broken. Like he was sick. Maybe dying.”

“And you've got the first tie on him.” Chad nodded. “Okay, in the RV, now.”

By the time Chad was finished, he had been poked, prodded, stabbed, and had more vitamins in his system than he'd ever imagined there were.

“The only thing we can do is to bolster your immune system, and to keep you strong so that you can help him. Or failing that, not go down with him,” Chad said bluntly. “You're strong, but since Jeremy's been so strained the last two weeks, you've been spending more time on him than on keeping you healthy. I want you to drink at least forty ounces of Wolfsure a day. Also, get some sleep when you can. I'll take a look at the alpha as soon as I check on Vicki and the cub.”

“Thanks, Chad.”

“Your wolf has questionable taste, Jeff. Do you think he's even gay? Bi? Asexual?”

“Not a clue. We'll see, huh?” Jeff grabbed the shit he knew Chad would need and headed for the house with a ground-eating lope. His knee twinged, reminding him that he hadn't done it any favors today, and he resigned himself to wearing an icepack this afternoon.

Vicki was settled onto the bed with a pile of pillows when he got there, hands full of IV equipment, but Jeremy was laying half on top of Misha, blood streaming down his throat, and Misha... Misha was making a godawful noise deep in his throat, like a scream that he couldn't voice.

“Jeff. He's fighting the sedatives.” Vicki said sharply. “And I'm stuck in the goddam pillows.”

Jeff dropped the equipment on the foot of the bed. “Shit. Misha!” he said sharply, hurrying around to the side of the bed. “I've got him Jere, pull back.”

He leaned on Misha, thanking whoever that was listening that Misha wasn't at full strength—or consciousness. Jeremy pulled back, and Misha's eyes snapped open, wide with terror and rage.

“Mish. Look at me. It's Jeff,” he murmured, easing some power into Misha, burning away the sedation that kept him confused.

“No, Vicki- I can't— Jensen, help me,” Misha sobbed.

“Shh,” Vicki said, her voice cracking. She reached over and laid her hand on Misha’s face, her wrist close to his nose. “I’m here now, sweetheart.”

Just when Jeff was afraid he'd have to knock him back out, pale blue eyes looking past him, nose twitching. “Vick--?” Misha twitched, trying to jerk upright. “Jeff?”

“Hey. It's me. It's okay. We're here. You're safe. Vicki's safe.”

Misha's head turned, sniffing. “Vic,” he murmured. “Are you.” He stopped, swallowed hard. “Um. How are you?”

“In labor. I'm okay, Mish. The baby's fine.”

Misha deflated, a sigh escaping him. “Okay. That's okay.” His eyes fluttered closed, breathing slowing.

Jeff smiled. “You scared the shit out of me.”

Misha stilled suddenly. “I remember. I felt. Is Jeremy here?” he asked, voice small.

Jeremy's eyes widened, and for a moment, Jeff thought he would bolt. “I'm here.”

“I smell blood,” Misha said flatly.

Jeff ran a hand over Misha's hair. “He's okay. Just overdoing it. I'm going to give him an Imitrex and a nap in a moment.”

“Oh. Okay. You'll stay?” Misha asked Jeremy, licking his lips nervously. “Until the baby comes?”

Something in Jeremy relaxed, and his smile was blinding. “As long as you'll have me.”

Misha smiled back, and finally stopped fighting the sedatives that were dripping into his veins. “Forever?”

Jeremy didn't answer, swallowing hard. He curled up next to Misha, laying carefully so he touched both of his mates, even if he hadn't figured it out yet.

Vicki smiled at Jeff as he nudged Jeremy into sleep with a touch of power. “That almost makes this whole fucking debacle worth it,” she whispered. “I'm glad you're going to be here to meet our cub.” When Jeff started to speak, she growled. “And don't even apologize for not getting here sooner, or I will get off this bed and kick you.”

“And then, I'll kick you for making her get up,” Chad added, coming in with a box of gloves. “Now get out while I take a look at Momma.”

Jeff nodded, heading for the door. “Okay.”

“See if you can find the other Alpha. He disappeared as soon as I went looking to check him over.”

“That's Jensen,” Vicki said dryly. “Try his study. Last door on the right down the hall.”

Jeff wandered down, pausing in front of the door. He was pretty sure if he knocked, Jensen would lock the door, but it was bad form for an Alpha to trespass on another's territory, even if it was just his study.

Fuck it. There was something about the other man that made Jeff want to rub his fur the wrong way just to see him puff up like a pissed off kitten

When he opened the door, the lights were off. The afternoon sun filtered through windows that hadn't been washed in years. Of course not. No power, no water. He couldn't imagine that kind of roughing it. At his age, he got grumbly when he didn't have coffee at hand.

His heart flew into his throat when he noticed the duct-taped boot sticking out from behind the desk. Fuck.

He tripped his way over to Jensen's still form, going down on his knee harder than he meant to. He ignored the pain, reaching one hand carefully to check for a pulse. Jensen’s skin was pale and cold, and Jeff cursed under his breath.

For a second, nothing. Then, a light, thready pulse that was nowhere near regular.

He should get Chad. Instead, he took a deep breath and pulled a charge of his power, ignoring the slight ache in his head that warned him he'd been using too much. He focused it, seeing sparks dance along his fingertips. His other hand shredded Jensen's layers, buttons and cloth flying through the air.

Then, he released it, letting the jolt take Jensen in the chest. His body arched, shaking and failing. Seizure.

Another shock, this one hard enough that he could feel the energy scoring a mark into his palm, and Jensen's heartbeat steadied. Jeff bent, pulling the other man against him. “Okay. Okay. You're okay.”

He propped them up against the heavy desk and shrugged his flannel shirt off, wrapping it warm side in around Jensen's shoulders. With the layers of clothes he wore shredded, Jensen was scary-skinny, with scattered scars standing dark across pale, freckled skin. He needed to warm up. Jeff needed to give him power.

Pulling the other man onto his lap, Jeff shifted his teeth, letting a sharp canine tooth drop into place and putting his own wrist up to his lips.

At first, Jensen laid there, slack and passive in his hands as the blood dripped into his mouth, and ran out, down his throat.

“Come on, dammit, I am not telling Vicki that I let her Alpha die,” Jeff muttered, pulling on his wolf, asking for whatever power it could give.

Suddenly, he was drowning in the musky scent of pack, of wolf. It wasn't his wolf. Jeff sucked in a breath, laying his head against Jensen's. “That's it, come on.” He nuzzled against the nape of Jensen's neck, breathing in the smell.

The scent sharpened, and he started to raise his head, but suddenly the still body bucked in his arms, neck slamming back into him, Jensen's skull rapping against Jeff's cheekbone.

He tasted blood and had a moment to think 'oh, shit,' before his own wolf roared to life, accepting the blood, taking the offering. The second tie snapped into place with an almost audible crack, followed by something else, something--

Pack. His motherfucking wolf had just made Jensen's pack his own. And vice versa. Oh, Jensen was going to be pissed. Assuming they both survived this.

But that didn't seem to be as much of a worry, he realized. Jensen's hand was curled around his wrist, holding him in place. And that bony ass was rocking against him, sending a spreading warmth into his groin. Giving into the inevitable, and, hey, why waste good blood, Jeff bent, licking the copper tang off of Jensen's skin.

The other wolf tasted good. Warm. Strong. Body heat was pouring off of Jensen now, his nipples pebbled in the cold air. Jeff bit the other man's throat and felt the Alpha's hips move, squirming so that Jeff's cock rode right—there, along the seam of his jeans. Jeff wasn't sure when his hands had gone from supporting to stroking.

He was so screwed.

Jensen moaned low in his throat, arching up, begging for a hand on him. Jeff's fingers slid down, rubbing along the dark trail of hair down towards the button of Jensen's jeans.

Another hand intercepted his, grabbing onto Jeff's wrist. Keeping him from touching his mate.

He growled, baring the canines that were still out, feeling his eyes shift to wolf. Who dared to touch him? Who dared to come near he and his mate?

The figure made meaningless sounds, and Jeff's growl deepened. Then, a short yip broke through his confusion. Healer. healer—Chad, his brain slowly supplied.

He went silent, hands tightening on his mate for a moment, before he let go. “Sorry.”

“It's okay,” Chad murmured. “Are you steady now? I need to examine him.”

“Yeah. I'm okay. Um. Things are a little more complicated,” Jeff said.

“You think?” Chad said, voice dripping sarcasm. “On the plus side, now that he's pack, I have the right to hold his ass still and do what needs to be done.”

“He's not going to be happy.”

“I'm the healer. I'm not here to make people happy.”

*************

Jensen felt like he was floating. The pain had eased, and he was flying through the ether. He was warm, and safe, and oddly aroused. If this was death, it wasn't bad.

Then he felt a sharp sting in his arm and slammed back into his body, aches and all.

Arms were holding him, fingers poking into his stomach. If they didn't stop, it was going to hurt. He squirmed, trying to writhe free.

“Shhh, just let Chad look,” the other Alpha's voice whispered.

He forced his eyes open slowly, wincing as the dim light stabbed him. The healer's face swam into focus. “Hey. You with us now?”

Jensen blinked at him slowly. Why was Chad kneeling? Why did his chest hurt? He lifted his hand, feeling the ridges of a new scar. It took another moment for him to notice the IV that hung from his hand, and the state of his shirt. “Whahappened?” he managed, swallowing around a tongue that seemed to be mostly made of cotton.

Chad offered him a glass that was filled with a murky chocolate scented liquid. Wolf-sure, his brain supplied. He took a sip, feeling his head clear further. “What happened?” he asked, clearer this time.

“You died. For a couple of minutes, at least. Jeff found you.”

Jensen looked behind the healer, wondering where the other Alpha had gotten to. He could smell the man all over the room. “Thank you,” he said softly, touching the burn mark.

Chad shrugged. “Wasn't me. Jeff had it in hand by the time I got here.”

“Sorry about the burn,” a voice muttered behind him. “I tried a lower power, but it didn't work.”

Oh. He was sitting on the Jeff's lap. And that wasn't a pillow poking his back. Jensen felt his face color as he felt his own body respond.

Chad cleared his throat, bringing Jensen's attention back. His face was serious, eyes steady as he looked at Jensen's stomach. “One last thing.”

“Healer, it's all right. I know it's bad.”

“It is. But mostly I'm just deciding what's the best way to tack it.” He glanced up. “Jeff, do you have enough left to hold the edges?”

“Yeah, I can do that.” His hands slid along Jensen's ribs, and he felt a tremendous pressure.

“Good. Right there. Brace yourself, alpha. This is going to suck hardcore.”

Jensen barely had a moment before the pain hit. Chad was right. It sucked. Not as bad as Page holding his fingertips against silver, though.

After the first wave, he was able to focus on the sensation. It felt like nothing so much as stitches being placed without anesthesia.

He was so focused on the feeling, that it was over before he realized it. Chad sighed deeply. “Okay. Good. Now, lets get you on the sofa so you can get comfy.”

He lifted Jensen one handed, using the other to hold the two IV bags. The world spun and he was half laying on the couch.

“Stay,” Chad said firmly, grabbing another bag off the floor and twisting it between his hands. “Hold this for a moment,” he muttered, before turning back to the other Alpha.

Cold pack, Jensen realized, kneading it absently to speed up the cooling reaction. He didn't think he had hit anything when he blacked out, but maybe he--

A sharp hiss of pain caught his attention, and he looked back, to where Chad was crouched next to Jeff, holding a pair of scissors.

“--I don't care,” Chad said. “I can feel it swelling up, so either you get them off, or I do.” His other hand was gently prodding Jeff's knee.

Jeff cursed, reaching for his belt buckle. “Could you at least grab me a pair of sweats?”

A pair of well worn grey cut off shorts hit Jeff in the chest.

“Thank you,” Jeff managed.

Jensen watched with interest as Chad lifted his alpha like he weighed nothing. He glanced down at the cold pack as the jeans slid down, then looked dumbly at Chad as he reached for the cold pack.

“Thanks, that's good,” Chad murmured. “Now, you can both sit there, and have a chat. And if either of you move, I will kick you both for it. Consider it motivation to keep the other one where I leave him. “

Jensen watched as Chad situated the cold pack on Jeff's knee, which was rather swollen and inflamed-looking.

He closed his eyes for a moment, tuning Chad out. So tired, but he hurt so much less. If he could figure out what Chad had done, he might be able to use it on other pack members for wounds. It didn't feel that different. He focused his power, feeling the 'stitches' that held his power in place. Another string caught his attention, and he nudged it, feeling an odd braided effect that he'd never seen. He could feel his pack through it, Vicki and Misha and... Kane?

Jensen's eyes flew open, staring hard at Jeff. “Pack?” he said sharply.

Jeff had the grace to blush. “Uh. Yeah.”

“How did you even do that?” Jensen asked. “I mean, seriously, what the hell?”

“I hadn't planned it. I didn't know it could work like that. My wolf just, and your wolf, and--” he broke off on a sudden intake of breath shivering, as Jensen touched another new thread.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you- oh.”

Jeff's eyes opened tinted that wolf-edged gold. And he was hard through the sweat pants. Getting harder. And bigger. Jensen felt his own wolf leaping against his control, reaching for Jeff. “What,” he said flatly.

“Your wolf,” Jeff said, voice unsteady. “Our wolves. Mated. And then, when I was giving you blood, I had used my fangs to slice my arm, and I hadn't pushed them back, and you arched back into them, and when it was done... we're two ties into mated.”

For a long moment, Jensen felt his mouth moving, but no sound was coming out. His wolf was practically dancing, so thrilled that Jensen had finally figured it out.

And Jeff apparently took that as a good time to push onward in the discussion. “Yeah. Since we're on the subject, you're in heat. You have been for a while now. That's what broke your core, and why you've been dropping power.”

“I am not in heat,” Jensen yelped. “Misha would have told me.”

“Misha's not strong enough to smell it, and Vicki... I'm guessing that you were in heat when you met her.”

“Page would have told me.”

Jeff's scornful noise raised his hackles.

“What?” Jensen demanded, voice dropping to a growl.

“Page was a dick, and he had some of the biggest bullshit ideas on being a wolf I've ever heard,” Jeff drawled. “I'm sorry if he was your mentor, but-”

“He wasn't,” Jensen gritted out.

“Fine. The Page I met wouldn't have spit on one of his young male wolves if they were on fire. Maybe he changed, but I doubt it.”

“Why did you come if you hated him?” Jensen snarled. “You claim that you love Vicki and Misha, but they've been in danger for months, and you didn't so much as blink, so excuse me if your 'more alpha than thou' bullshit doesn't work for me.” He was done with this. He had tried to be nice, tried to accommodate Jeff, and now he was fucked. Literally.

He had been dying. He was supposed to be dying.

“You've got his files, you know the answer to that,” Jeff said voice rising. “And you just fucking jumped to do anything about it, didn't you? Until your balls were in the vice, and then suddenly, you let Vicki call.”

He hadn't known much about Jeff until Misha had been taken, but he wasn't going to say that. Wasn't going to admit his ignorance. “And look at what happened?” Five minutes later, you're horning in on my pack, trying to take it over.” He jammed power into the thread that connected them, satisfied to see a wince of pain touch Jeff's face before he could hide it. “This is my pack. My blood, my sweat. I didn't ask you to take over. I didn't want another Alpha in my territory, and I sure as hell don't want to be mated to one.”

“That's fine. I'll get off your territory, then,” Jeff snapped, throwing the cold pack down, and levering himself to his feet.

“Vicki needs your healer.” Jensen said.

“I'm not going to make her or the baby suffer because her Alpha's a dick. I said I'll go. I'll leave Chad.” He limped to the door, before detouring to the bookshelves and scooping up a battered copy of the Art of War that Page had left behind. Jensen hadn't bothered to look at it.

He certainly wasn't expecting the sheaf of papers that Jeff extracted from the back cover. “Here. You can read it for yourself.” He tossed the papers on the sofa and turned back to the door, yanking his shirt off.

Jensen could smell Jeff's wolf rising to the surface. The smell of musk and earth,blood and rain filled the room, and his body responded, his wolf trying to shake the hold he had on it, wanting nothing more than to join him in a run... and more.

He listened, hearing the limping steps change, smoothing out, claws clicking on the wood of the stairs. He wondered what Jeff's wolf looked like.

The shirt Jeff had throw was barely two feet away. He stretched his foot out, scooping it up, and pulled it close to him. It smelled so damn good. He laid it on his lap and picked up the papers, flicking through the pages of legalese.

What he found under the nicely worded document chilled him. The obvious hatred Page had for Jeff was terrifying, and the total lack of trust Jeff's requirements gave word to was insulting. He couldn't imagine Page being willing to sign off on the document.

Until he came to the final page of the contract, where Jeff willingly gave up the right to contact his wolves in any way in return for Page's promise that he would protect Misha and Vicki, and not try to take Vicki as his own mate. In return for Vicki and Misha being allowed to live as part of Page's pack and be allowed to try for a baby, Jeff had given Page an obscene amount of money every six months, to be deposited into a savings account he'd never heard of.

It also gave Page the right to the entire state of Texas, and included a 'favor' to be named at a later time. If Jeff broke any of the insanely detailed rules, there was a list of forfeits. They ranged from the petty to the sociopathic. The one that struck him the hardest was the promise that if Jeff came into Page's personal territory—Texas, by the time he arrived at the homestead, which was a good six hours drive past the border no matter how you came in-- Misha's safety couldn’t be guaranteed.

It made him want to kill, made his wolf snarl and pace in the cage of his body. It made him sick, that he suddenly understood why Page had kept so many low-level alpha male wolves. He would need help if he was going to make good on his threat. And Jensen knew he would have made good on it. Page didn't believe in bluffing.

The anger fed into his wolf, until it was all he could do to stay still, not to lash out at something. Jeff's scent twisted into his belly, until the rage and arousal were twined, and he found himself kneading the soft fabric of the shirt, wanting to rub the scent all over his body. Wanting to wrap it around his cock and touch himself.

God help him, he wanted it all. He was so pissed at Jeff, their wolves, everyone. And he wanted. He ached with the wanting, with the need to be filled. Since Jeremy had woken up his wolf, it was like he'd been locked in a constant state or arousal. It was just constantly sending him pornographic thoughts and these filthy pictures.

Another wave of wantneed slid through him, and he stood, wrapping his arms around his body, pressing the soft fabric against his skin. He heard Kane laugh downstairs, his drawl carrying through the vent.

Not what we want his wolf growled, angry at the scent of others, their sounds. He wanted to run, to find Jeff and push him down, hold him, take what his body wanted, take him. He wanted these other people away from him. He wanted to rip, tear, kill them all for not being Jeff.

Rut. It was a word Jensen had heard before. When Jackson had gone into rut, Page had put a silver bullet through his eye, said that it made him a danger to everyone. Said that Jackson would rape his way through the pack, kill anyone who stood between him and his prey.

At the time, he thought Page was just being a dictator. Now... he was thinking that Page might have been right.

He had a gun in the desk. The same gun. He could take care of things, keep his pack safe. Keep both of his packs safe.

He was still frozen in indecision when the door opened. He lifted his lip in a snarl, pressing back into the couch hard.

Chad stepped in and stopped like someone had hit him in the head. “Shit. Jensen?”

“Get out.” He closed his eyes, shuddering. His wolf wanted to punish Chad.

“No,” Chad said mildly. He heard the healer move closer and felt his fangs slide down. “I'm not going to leave you alone.”

“Get out.”

“Not a chance.” When Jensen opened his eyes, Chad was kneeling in front of him, throat bared. “Take what you need, Alpha.”

“I'll kill you,” Jensen said desperately.

“No. You won't,” Chad murmured. “I'm not going to let you kill yourself. I have meds. I can sedate you, give you hormones to ease the rut. I can call Jeff.”

“No. I don't. I won't crawl for his attention,” Jensen spat.

“Too bad. You've got a nice ass for it,” Chad mused.

Jensen stared, his mouth working soundlessly, outraged. The wolf was a little intrigued.

Chad's mouth twitched. “Figured that would shut you up.” He stood slowly, easing over towards the desk. “Where's the gun? Or knife, or whatever it is?”

“Desk. Top drawer.”

Chad took it out, and cleared the bullet from the chamber, popping the clip with an ease that spoke of experience. “Now. You're going to sit here. I'm going to get you some meds. Then, I'm going to go kick my other Alpha's ass, and the two of you will work it out.”

“How?”

“There's some data that suggests that it's the penetration and the bodily fluids that count most in rut management. So we can get a dildo, and have Jeff jerk off into a cup.”

His cheeks felt like they were on fire, and Chad, damn him, didn’t look anything but sympathetic. Jensen finally swallowed hard and nodded. “I have an emergency kit,” he muttered. “Bottom drawer.”

Chad pulled the small fireproof box out, and started rummaging through. The first aid book was thrown aside with a scornful mutter. “Please tell me that you haven't been using that?”

“It's all I had,” Jensen retorted.

“It's bullshit. Written by a human who probably hadn't seen a were.”

“Six month siege,” Jensen said sharply.

“Fine, fine,” Chad said, voice distracted. “Whoa, holy shit!” He hefted the emergency dildo, staring at it in fascination.

“What now?” It was getting harder to keep the growl out of his voice.

“This thing is fucking enormous! I mean, I'm not adverse to taking dick, but if I saw this thing, I'd run.”

“Chad,” Jensen snarled. “Out. Lock the door.”

Chad glanced back and sobered. “Okay.” He closed his eyes for a moment, reaching through the ties that held him to his pack.

A moment later, Kane stepped in the door, moving slowly, eyes downcast.

“Keep an eye on him. Don't let him past you, don't let him hurt himself,” Chad ordered.

“Done,” Kane said.

As Chad slipped out the door, Jensen forced himself to sit, tried to keep the wolf at bay a little longer.

Part 3