Running with Wolves Ch. 09

The clearing was Flint's favorite spot; it had been since he had found it as a pup. After the pack had discovered his condition, it was his only true refuge outside of the Den, a place he could go that wasn't filled with the distrust, sadness, and disappointment that surrounded him wherever he went.

For the longest time, the three of them stayed quietly sitting in that clearing. It was a new experience for Flint. He could smell the decay of the fallen tree a dozen feet away, the crisp scent of the man behind him, the tree sap from all the rain falling on the leaves, breaking tiny veins in their stems. His wolf was heightening his senses, one at a time. First had been touch. Every time the wind blew it felt as if a stream of water was running over him. Now, his sense of smell was so powerful it made him dizzy with every breath.

Flint sighed as another spasm passed, this one in his right thigh. He could feel Garrett's hand rubbing the outside of his leg, easing the twisting muscle.

"Is this helping?" Garrett asked, probably worried by the sigh. The way he quietly whispered his question while being so close and connected made Flint feel like blushing. He quickly tamped the feeling down, but he still grew a little pink under the light sprinkling of fur on his face.

Flint nodded his head. "Y-yeah, it aaactual-ly is."

Dominic still had a hold of Flint's hand, the warmth of their contact radiating up his arm, all the way to his shoulder. It was a comfort even to have such a small amount of contact with Dominic, but it had nothing on what the contact with Garrett was doing to him.

Flint could feel Garrett's heart beat through his chest, and resonate throughout his entire body. Warmth coated every part of him, inside and out. Flint had felt it in the Omega Wing, while he was being torn apart by his own bone and muscle. As he had laid there silently begging for someone to end his suffering, Flint had felt the same warmth coax him back from that edge, stabilizing him long enough to gain control of his instincts and push them back down. It had been Garrett who had kept him from dying that day.

Flint wasn't sure if he was grateful for that or not as his wolf once again tried to shift into its physical form. He could feel his bones slowly changing shape, elongating and shortening as his muscles continued to try and reconfigure themselves. There was no order, no synchronization. One bone would lengthen while the attached muscles stayed their original length, or a joint would pop out of place because the ligaments were trying to shape themselves to form the joint of a wolf, only to pop back in when one of the two shifted to fit again. At no point was he ever alleviated from the pain as his body shifted back and forth in slow motion.

Being out in the open was a relief though. Flint hadn't been allowed to leave that hospital room since the fight, and there was nothing more oppressive than a hospital room. It was slowly killing what little fight Flint had in himself to be trapped in that room. No amount of pleading had convinced his family, mainly Hale, to let him out or to let anyone else in for that matter. As if he was a child that couldn't make his own decisions.

Without warning, Flint felt his instincts surge forward and send his body into another intense episode. This time was different though. Every part of his body was spasming at once, which was something Flint would not be able to stop in such a weakened state. He had thought he would be able to hold of his wolf down until Hale got back.

He had been wrong.

"D-D-Dominic!" Flint's entire body began to rock with the spasms. Every bone, muscle, ligament, joint, and tendon fighting between human and wolf shapes, causing the fur on his body to grow. He tried to push his wolf back down, but it had gained too much control over his transformation. Panic set in at that moment. This was happening far quicker than it was supposed to. No other transformations had come on this fast and hard.

Flint could feel Dominic's hands on him, helping keep him upright as he thrashed in Garrett's arms. "Flint? What's happening?" Flint sobbed out a scream as the nails on his hand and feet outgrew their beds, splitting the tips of each digit. "What can we do? What do you need?"

"Th-the, the sssi-ssilvver! Y-yyou have to ge-gET IT OH LUNA!" Flint's pelvis began cracking into pieces, then fusing back together to create a new shape piece by piece.

Garrett tightened his hold. "It's happening now?" Flint nodded, crying out as his left humorous extended rapidly and snapped his bicep. "Fuck."

Flint watched as best he could as Dominic began shuffling the blankets and his clothing to try and find the syringe. He was patting down his pockets when he cursed and stood to his feet. "Fuck, it's still with the wheelchair! Flint? Are you sure this is it? Can you hold on till your brother gets back?" Flint thought about it, but then his skin tore as the bones in his feet elongated too far for it to stretch over. He screamed, thrashing his head back and forth in a "NO." Dominic cursed again and turned to face the trail. "I can run for it-"

"No, I'll go." Garrett laid Flint on his side, being careful to set him down gently. "You're still hurt and I'm faster, I'll do it." He leaned down, so that he could whisper in Flint's ear. "You hold on; you hear me, Flint? You told us you could hold on till Hale got back, and we didn't bring you out here for you to die on our watch. Don't make me have to take another life."

By the time Garrett's words processed in Flint's pain-drunken head, the blond was already gone and running down the trail. Dominic took his place, sitting down so that he could put Flint's head in his lap. "Just hold on Flint. You can do this, just hold on for me."

Flint looked up into Dominic eyes, tears falling out of his own. "I-I-I'mmm sso, sssso ssorry, Dom-. I th-thought I c-cou-ld, mmmake it."

"Don't you dare apologize for this Flint. This isn't your fault."

"B-but, it isss, mmy ff-fault." Flint cried out as his hips popped out and back in to their sockets. "I, dd-don't under-stand, wh-why I cc-can't do it!" For years, he had tried to figure out why he couldn't connect with his wolf. Every time he brought it to the surface, he could never seem to fully embrace the wolf, form the necessary bonds in order to become a full fledged werewolf. Everyone around him made it seem so simple, so natural. It had never been that way for him. It was never anything but pain.

Even as used to pain as he was, Flint was still overcome with the intense agony of his entire body coming apart. His cries would alert any patrol that was nearby to their presence, but with the order that it was to be Hale who would put Flint down; they would keep their distance. No action would be taken until there was no other option.

Dominic stayed with Flint the entire time, stroking his head and giving him words of encouragement. They were hard to hear with the ringing in his ears, but it was nice none-the-less to know Dom was there with him.

"Who's there?!" Dominic shouted, hearing something Flint could not. Opening his eyes, Flint could just make out the shape of a wolf in the trees. It was pacing just within their line of sight, keeping its distance. The wolf, whomever it was, settled into a sit so they could continue to monitor them. If Flint wasn't killed before turning rogue, then the orders would become obsolete and anyone close by would do their duty and do it themselves.

Flint was shaking, not all of it from the pain. "J-jussst, pa-patrol. No, no, threa-t to, yy-ou."

Dominic shifted to place himself between Flint and the wolf. "You're going to be fine, Flint. Just hang on."

There was a rustling in the trees. Dominic startled but Flint could scent Garrett on the breeze, practically feel it on his skin. It soothed the burn of his fever. "We have a problem."

"What?" Dominic sounded agitated. The stress of the situation must have been getting to him.

"Someone moved the chair. They must have found it and not noticed what was inside. We don't have the silver, and we won't be able to find it in time if this does go bad."

"Goddammit." Dominic was pulling his hair back, almost out of its roots.

"I-i-t's ok-ay, rrreally. Nn-ot, llike d-d-y-ing ffrrom, silver iss any le-less, p-painfull."

Garrett was back on the blanket, his light grey eyes filled with remorse. "I'm so sorry Flint." He placed a hand on Flint's thigh, trying to give some measure of comfort.

"I-t's al-alrrright. Jj-just stay, ppplease."

Dominic grabbed Flint's hand again, ignoring the claws and sudden rough texture. "Of course Flint. We aren't going anywhere."

Flint screamed again, this time long and full. Soon, there would be no one in the Den that didn't know what was happening.

Flint could feel his face beginning to elongate, his ribcage expand, and a tail starting to form out of his sacrum. Most of his body was halfway shifted into his hybrid wolf form, which was the state all rogues took when they transformed. After another few minutes he would either be dead or continue to become a rogue. The other wolves would know that too.

"Dominic."

Flint's sight and hearing were suddenly heightened, thanks to the push in his transformation. The surrounding patrol and other wolves that had come from the Den had apparently decided it was time to take matters into their own hands. Three had moved forward, flanking two that were still in human form. It was Aspen and Cricket, both Thetas, along with Thorn, Cascade, and Cole behind them. Cricket was ordering Dominic and Garrett to step away from Flint.

"No. We aren't going anywhere." Dominic was standing between Flint and his pack, Garrett close behind him crouching with an arm over Flint.

Flint tried to tell them it was all right to leave him to his inevitable fate, but he was beyond talking. His mouth was no longer capable of forming most sounds, so he was left to continue thrashing around, crying out with pained yelps and howls.

Flint's body was now completely consumed by the transformation. His pants were splitting at the seams from his sudden growth and his wolf's mindset was taking over. Instinct was beginning to invade rational thought. The wolves around him were becoming less and less pack, and more enemies to his survival. Their scents were losing definition, only telling him that they were wolves, and they were hostile.

Flint fought to keep in control. It was difficult with the pain in his body and aggression from the surrounding wolves, but he was able to focus enough on the man above him to follow what was happening.

Dominic was arguing with Cricket, who was trying to assert dominance over him and order him to step away from Flint. Cricket didn't seem to understand that because Dominic was human he didn't feel compelled to follow the wolf hierarchy. He hadn't been around enough humans to be consciously aware of that fact.

When the others began to approach, Dominic began yelling at all of the wolves. He looked ready to fight Cricket if it came to that. Flint felt a surge of warmth blossom in his soul that someone was fighting so hard to keep him safe, but feared for Dominic's safety. Going up against the pack like this was not going end well. The pack would not allow Flint to go rogue. Even an Omega going rogue was extremely dangerous. They would never take that chance.

Distracted by his argument with Cricket, Dominic didn't notice Aspen coming in on his left. Seeing an opening, the Theta lunged and took Dominic down to the ground. They rolled around for a moment before Aspen finally got Dominic onto his stomach, straddled from behind. True to wolf nature, Aspen tried to force submission by pressing his teeth to Dominic's throat. It only spurred Dominic to fight harder and begin to scream profanities at him and the others.

Not willing to watch his friend be taken down, Garrett was up like a shot and diving onto Aspen's back. Together, both human men rolled until Garrett was on his back with Aspen in a chokehold with Dominic on top of them both. Dominic slammed his elbow into Aspen's ribs and, coupled with his inability to breath, he had no other choice but to release him. Once free, Dominic rolled away and tried to get back to his feet.

It was too late. The others took their chance and intervened in the fight. Cole lunged and knocked Dominic onto his back, snarling and snapping his teeth right in front of his face. Even so, Dominic fought to move the paw on his chest holding him down. Cricket went for Garrett, kicking him in the side and forcing him to loosen his grip on Aspen. Flint could hear Garrett's ribs snap under his cry of pain.

Flint snarled at the attack on Garrett, attempting to turn over and rise up onto his hands and knees. From the side, another wolf, Flint could no longer differentiate between them, rammed into his side and he went down, yelping and snapping his jaws in warning. The other wolf stood above him, growling with teeth bared.

There was another cry of pain, and Flint turned his head to witness Cricket pulling Garrett off the ground by looping his arms under Garrett's and pulling back to touch his fists to his shoulders. Garrett couldn't get any leverage to bring his arms out of their outstretched positions and his ribs were causing him too much pain to do much in the way of fighting back. He was crying, he was in so much pain.

Something in Flint gave way when he saw Garrett in pain. His wolf surged to the front of his mind, and Flint let it.

Now fully in his hybrid form, Flint easily dispatched the wolf above him with a powerful shove. Caught off guard by the sudden change from a painful heap to a pissed off predator, the wolf didn't have time brace themselves for the blow and tripped as they fell to the side. Flint took that time to roll onto his stomach and lunge at them, his claws piercing fur, skin, and muscle. It was over before anyone could react.

Not pausing in his attack, Flint turned and dashed at Cricket, who still had a hold on Garrett. Cricket dropped the human in order to protect himself, but was unable to do more than lift his arms in defense. Cricket went down as well.

"Flint! No!" Without thought, Flint attacked Cole who was standing above a panicked Dominic. They fought for a moment, Cole having more training than the other two. A second wolf came to Cole's defense, and Flint found himself fighting two fully matured wolves.

He had no real fighting experience, but he had been taught how to dodge. Mother and Father had allowed Hale to teach him that since it didn't bring out his wolf. Muscle memory was the only thing guiding Flint as he fought. The clearing was too small for any other wolves to join the fight, and being the only one in hybrid form gave him the advantage.

Being so disconnected from the outside world, Flint was finally able to think without the pain of his body. His wolf was almost completely in control, and he could feel the instincts eclipsing his logical mind. They were so powerful, like a hurricane over the open ocean, and he was just the little lifeboat trying to stay upright.

Flint was only vaguely aware of the fighting. For him it was like a dream, one that he was aware of happening but had no control over. His instincts led the battle, the need to fight to stay alive being his only thought. The pain made his wolf feel vulnerable, and his defense was to treat anything and everything that moved as a threat. Without the logical, rational human mind there was no way for the wolf to differentiate between a wolf that was trying to help him and one that was on the attack. For the wolf, they were all out to kill him.

There were no constructed thoughts. The wolf thought with his feelings, emotions, and senses. Words did not mean anything to him. But he could recognize voices; associate them to certain scents or individuals. Every scent, touch, sight, and sound that his pack made during this fight would correlate to fighting for his life. There would be no grey area from now on.

After catching the leg of one of the attacking wolves they retreated into the surrounding trees. Flint could still sense wolves around him, circling, trapping him. He was still in a great amount of pain, and now he was being stalked by predators. He snarled in warning and paced around the clearing in a circle. He wasn't going to die without a fight.

Flint was startled by a noise behind him. He snarled, spinning on his heels and crouching in a defensive position.

There was someone in the clearing. It was wolf, male, and lying on the ground. Flint stalked towards him, slowly, growling low the entire time. The wolf moved again, and Flint lunged, latching his teeth onto an arm and shaking. His prey screamed in pain, spurring Flint on. His attack was vicious and primal, driven by his need to feed and keep himself safe. The scent of blood, the taste of it on his tongue, and the feeling of the flesh tearing between his teeth only encouraging him.

When his prey stopped fighting back, Flint released the arm and was about to go for the throat when something small and sharp smacked into him. Flint snarled and spun again, not knowing where the threat came from. There were others in the clearing that he hadn't realized were there. Two more males, human, and of no real threat to him. However, he would not allow any males in what he had staked as his territory. He would kill them to assert dominance.

Again, Flint began to stalk his prey. He could smell sweat and adrenaline on the breeze, the scent of fear. They should be scared of him; he was more powerful, more lethal, than both of them combined. They would make a good meal to help him heal.

One of them moved, and Flint pounced. He was targeting the darker colored one, but he was faster than Flint thought he would be. The human dodged at the last second, and in his place was a thick tree. Flint slammed head first into the trunk, disabling him for a moment. His eyesight left for a moment and the ringing in his ears left him deaf. He lashed out in panic, scared of being attacked while he was defenseless.

As the ringing left him, he could hear voices, human ones, speaking to him, yelling at him. A flash of a face entered his mind. Black hair and dark blue eyes. He was no threat to Flint, he had kept him safe, made him feel accepted. He was pack.

"Come on Flint! Snap out of it!" He was still yelling, but it wasn't aggressive. There was fear, and something else the wolf couldn't identify.

'Concern, for us.' The logical side of Flint was able push back some, instinct giving way to the realization that the human wasn't a threat. He didn't need to kill him right away.

Flint was still cautious though. He stayed low, ready for any attack. He could still just make out the scents of the surrounding wolves over the scent of blood, so he wasn't about to let his guard down.

Flint tried to understand the words being spoken to him by the human, but it was difficult. His two minds were warring with one another, and the pain was making it almost impossible to concentrate.

"Flint?"

A new voice, this one softer, deeper, was coming from the second male next to the one Flint trusted. He was lighter in coloring, and from his scent he had been hurt. Flint scented the air, this time trying to identify them from his hazy memory. The darker one smelt of salty air, while the other had a sharp, crisp scent, like a dry morning after a snowfall. He also smelt of cut wood. There were some glimpses of memory that surfaced when he smelt them, but still Flint didn't fully trust either of them, even though he knew on some level they were not out to hurt him.

He approached slowly, using his nose and ears to make sure this wasn't a trap. Neither human moved, which was a positive. The surrounding wolves were still keeping their distance, but they were becoming agitated. Flint continued to move forward on hands and bent legs, keeping his pace slow and diagonal. The calmer he became, the more his logical mind was able to push forward. Flint was almost back in control of himself, he could feel the two sides merging into one.