Unwilling Ch. 13

And it's done!

Disclaimer:

Suspension of disbelief is recommended. This story is copyrighted and you are not allowed to copy, change, and/or try and sell it online. All characters are 18+.

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

~*Darwin*~

A sea of blood filled the small room, splashing first against the trim seaming the edges of the wooden floor, then up against the wall sockets and licking against the frame of the bed and in a glimpse swallowing even that. Then suddenly the room fell away, unveiling an ink-black, endless sky. Gasping for air, Darwin treaded the thick, luke-warm liquid to keep himself afloat, retching at the sticky, satiny feel of liquid life against his body. Black sky, black, bloody sea, nothing as far as the eye could see. He was drowning, he knew it, but that didn't make giving up any easier. Giving up was never easy.

"... no, he isn't. And you standing in my way doesn't-"

Darwin knew that voice, but he hadn't expected to hear it ever again. Something brushed against his leg, a wet, slippery touch that made him squeak and swim harder, towards that voice, towards that faint knowledge of safety. Each breath through his mouth brought another sickly wave of that rich taste of meat with it, making him spit and retch.

"Last warning. He is mine!"

A thunderclap echoed over the vast sea, followed by a sharp, painfully bright lightning flash. A tiny rowboat suddenly bobbed on the thick waves, looking forlorn and foreboding and dry as old driftwood. Darwin grabbed the rim and pulled himself inside with a groan and shivering muscles, swallowing against the rocking motion. Waves lapped softly against the wooden sides, low, dry, drum beats in the pitch black. The boat was warm, so warm,- too warm.

Darwin awoke with a jolt and a scream, instinctively slapping the arms holding him. His wolf snarled through his head, hovering just below his skin, ready to burst out at the blink of an eye. His attacker grunted, tightened his grip to the point of pain and buried Darwin's face in a soft shirt and against a taut chest. Darwin took one deep breath, initially to scream again, but the scent filling his nose stopped him mid-gasp. Then he threw his arms around that muscular, hard chest and sobbed. Jared's scent. It wafted through Darwin's brain like a lifeline, driving away the last, dark tendrils of whatever nightmare he had been stuck in. The wolf retreated but hovered in the background, as wary as Darwin felt disjointed.

"Shh. I'm here, I'm alive. Calm down." Jared's throat sounded sore. It was the most beautiful sound Darwin had ever heard. He tried to say something but whatever words he tried to utter came out as a jumbled, snot-riddled mess, soaking Jared's shirt and rubbing his throat raw. Jared just hugged him tighter and crawled onto the bed with him, pulling him against his body and bathing him in the scent of home. And pain. Jared stunk of it, and of blood. And death. His wolf didn't like it, but trying to melt into Jared met his approval. Darwin dug his hands into that soft shirt, just to be sure he was really there, really alive, and even then he kept his head pressed against Jared's chest to listen to his heartbeat. Images of Jared's gored neck, the blood on Darwin's grasping fingers, those wet, raspy gasps for air, tried to come back, but Darwin drove them away by clutching tighter and tighter to that shirt. Only Jared's pained grunt made him let up.

"Am I hurting you?" Darwin croaked, sniveling through snot and swollen eyes.

A huff of hot breath rustled through his hair but Jared didn't answer, just jerked his head to the sides. Not a denial, but a clear enough invitation to keep hugging him like this, no matter the pain it caused. His fingers left hot little dents on Darwin's back, digging in and then easing up again, dancing to the tune of whatever emotions had struck him silent. Whatever drugs had taken Darwin down and into that scary blood-sea still cursed through his body, slowing down the world and leaving a faintly metallic taste on his dry tongue. Still, that scent and Jared's body heat, his oh so low sniffling, felt like a soothing blanket for his mind. The rush of love coursing through Darwin was almost too much, almost too strong, just this side from torture. Remnants of fear bristled every hair on his body, made him want to run. But he couldn't, didn't want to leave again, risk losing Jared again. So many questions danced through his head, so many truths he wanted to ask about and didn't want answered at the same time, it was choking him. What could he say? What should he say?

No confession, no profession of deep, profound realizations could ever measure up to that turmoil inside him. The tension was killing them both and it had to go. With that realization, Darwin knew exactly what to say.

"You're crying, aren't you. How un-manly."

"No I'm not. And fuck you for scaring me," Jared mumbled, congested and teary as he fought back a laugh and held Darwin tighter. Darwin's wolf forced a happy grunt out of his lips and finally relaxed a little.

Someone was thumping against the door, muttering curses at Jared for locking it, demanding to be let in, proclaiming the danger of being alone in there, alone with 'him'. The words didn't make much sense to Darwin's spinning mind. It was such an easy thing not to pay attention to that beating and hollering, to wrap himself in Jared's scent and voice and warmth instead, to listen to his heartbeat and to the soft, woolen creak of the bandages tensing against their own layers whenever Jared readjusted himself. His mate was here, his Alpha, he would take care of everything. No need for vigilance.

"Go away," Jared barked hoarsely towards the door, then buried his face in Darwin's hair, huffing warm air against his scalp. "They've been keeping me at bay for three days, saying you'd gone feral. That you'd attack me because I smell like prey, with the wounds and all. That you wouldn't know it was me you attacked if I went in here," he grumbled and giggled softly. "At first I let them, mostly because I was too weak to come here on my own, but then I decided that this was stupid and they don't know you as well as I do. And that I'd rather be mauled by you than stay away any longer."

Darwin kept quiet as he examined the words in his mind. His wolf didn't pay much attention to them, happy to stay in the now, in that cloud of happiness in Jared's proximity.

His wolf. Wait, my wolf?

Darwin tensed and shuddered, closed his eyes more tightly and tried to remember how to breathe. His wolf was there, right there, aware and connected but way too close, too big. How hadn't he become aware of its proximity sooner?

Jared rubbed his back, sending tingles through his tense flesh. "Shh, breathe. Everything is alright. Think calm, breathe calm, or you'll shift again. Like that, yes."

Each breath burned through his throat, ballooning his lung too forcefully and hissing out in a huff. Listening and acting accordingly felt like a monumental task, tiring and useless, but the longer he did it, the less his skin tingled. Even the sharp pains in his gums receded and the blood pounding in his ears lessened. When all he could hear was his own pitiful breathing, Darwin closed his eyes and ground his teeth.

"Guess they're right about the feral thing," he said with a voice that still wasn't quite his own.

Jared relaxed his hold on Darwin and rubbed his back, shrugging awkwardly. "I don't care. If you go all feral, I'll buy a dog bed big enough for both of us. We could move deep into the mountains, just you and me. Be done with all this drama and just live our lives. I won't let you down again, I simply won't."

Something dark and fearful bubbled up from the depths of Darwin's memory and he tensed. He spoke before he was sure he wanted to know the answer. "Even though I deserted you?"

"Even though."

Something broke inside Darwin's chest and suddenly he was crying again, clutching and clawing at Jared's shirt as he sobbed loudly through the void the fear left in his chest. The last tendrils of darkness fled his body with those sounds, hurting his head just as his heart stopped aching. And all through his breakdown, Jared held him, soothed him and kept his mouth shut. Even the hammering on the door stopped, finally leaving them to themselves.

After a while, the urge to shift disappeared completely and Darwin realized how wet Jared's shirt had gotten. He slowly pulled away, patting the dark patches awkwardly as he blinked his swollen eyes. "Sorry about that," he muttered, sniffling.

"Don't worry about it," Jared murmured, rubbing endless circles on his back. "How much do you remember?"

Darwin winced and his heartbeat sped up. "You dying. Me shooting Carl." Strangely, the thought of Carl did nothing to him, now that he was dead. The memory of Jared's pale-blue face and the gushing wound still threatened to make him sick, though.

Jared nodded. "That was three days ago. They tranqed you like a rabid dog and pulled you off me because you wouldn't let their medic take over and kept screaming at everyone. Then you shifted and went a little berserk, but luckily that was when the tranq kicked in. At least that's what they told me when I asked them why the hell I couldn't see you. I still think they overreacted, but what can you do? It's done now. Margo had us all taken to her pack house- much more impressive than the roadhouse, by the way- and put you in lockdown. Then they patched me up and-"

A knock on the door interrupted Jared's tale. It was a much more polite knock than before and it stopped both of them in their tracks. "Who is it?" Jared called, narrowing his eyes at the offending door.

"George and Mary. Can we come in?"

Darwin was off the bed and at the door in a blink. "Dad!" He ripped open the door and all but fell into George's lap, ignoring Mary's shocked squeak. "You're here!"

George gasped, then patted Darwin's back awkwardly. "Of course. Where else would I be? My son is hurt, they'd have to use a forklift to keep me away."

"I threatened to do just that yesterday," Mary snarked and proceeded to roll them into the tiny room. "Good to see you're somewhat sane again, boyo." A short pause, then she offered Jared a curt nod, followed by an icy, "Jared."

Darwin frowned and carefully slipped off his father's lap. Jared was staring at all three of them, his eyes hooded and his face carefully blank. George didn't spare him a single glance and Mary was glowering daggers, if only out of the corner of her eye. Something was off, and in a bad, bad way. Darwin's wolf stiffened at the sheer tension in the room, hackles rising. "Guys? What happened while I was out?"

Jared got up and patted Darwin's shoulder. "Leave it be for now, they just got you back. I'll be upstairs."

Darwin stared at Jared's retreating back until the door fell shut, then he knitted his brows at his family. "Okay, what's going on?"

George didn't hesitate. "When you told me that you found a boyfriend, I pictured someone nice and responsible and trustworthy. And what did I find instead? A self-centered, glib little frat-boy with no respect for anyone or anything! Did he tell you that he fought with Margo and almost got kicked out? Or that he punched Graham when he asked if Margo would be willing to do a burial ceremony for Carl?"

"Please George, calm down," Mary implored, kneading his shoulders as he started to gasp for air. Her eyes found Darwin, silently blaming him as she tried to loosen his tense muscles. "I'm sure Darwin had no idea Jared could be like that. You know he's a good boy, he would never fall for someone's looks alone."

Darwin swallowed and sat down. The tightness in his chest was back, as was the vertigo. His cells thrummed beneath the low growl of his wolf, that universal warning to back off or else. This was not going like he had imagined it would. Rather, it was almost opposite of what he had hoped for and nowhere close to what he needed right now, unstable as he felt. After all, George and Mary were the most important people in his life after Jared. But were they still? As things were going, chances were high that his father would tell him to leave Jared, but could he? He tried to imagine his life without Jared. Without his scent, or his rumbling voice. Without that feeling of utter security and bliss. The growling in his head changed to a high, anxious whining.

Unthinkable.

But could he live without his family? Could he really hurt his father like that, dismiss him and risk never seeing him again? No more Friday dinners, no more phone calls, no more hot cocoa in front of the fireplace,... It was just as unthinkable.

George had gotten his breath back under control, but he wouldn't let up. "Seriously, boy! What were you thinking?"

Shivering, Darwin looked down at his white-knuckled fists. The skin was boiling, moving, about to sprout a pelt that had no place on a human body. This felt so unreal, so utterly contrary to his expectations, it was almost physical pain. "I was thinking that he's my mate and I love him," he whispered.

George snapped. "He killed Carl!" he yelled, surging forward. His broken body tumbled to the ground and Mary shrieked, jumping to his aid and shoving Darwin out of the way.

"Look what you did! You know what the doctors said! How could you upset him like that!" she screamed and grabbed George to pull him off the ground. "George? George! Are you okay?"

It was too much. With a torn snarl, Darwin turned and fled.

#

Darwin stumbled out of the room and into a darkened, deserted hallway. His whole body was itching, tingling, caught between shifting shape and exhaustion. He had no idea where he was or where he should go, but the steps to his right seemed like a better choice than the even darker left side of corridor. As long as he got away from that room and the terror it held, anywhere else was fine with him.

The stairs blurred before his eyes and not just because of the soft crackling of changing bone in his eye sockets. He hadn't thought there were any tears left after his breakdown, but here he was, stumbling up the staircase and barely swallowing the sobs threatening to pour out of him. His mind kept going in circles, taunting him with the demand to choose; father or mate, father or mate, it whispered cruelly. There was no way to run from his own thoughts, but Darwin did his damnedest to try, at least try.

He burst through the door at the top of the stairs, trying to blink away the tears as he ran forward blindly, smacked against a table and spun off to one side, fumbling for something to catch himself on. His fingers found a chair and he leaned onto it, scraping its legs across the floor as he fought for balance, coughing out a half-snarled sob.

"Whoa, Darwin," a familiar, female voice called, then a hand caught his arm and pulled him upright. "What happened? What's wrong?"

Darla, of all people. It didn't matter. Nothing she did could ever hurt as much as the impossibility his father had imposed on him. And if she hit him, it was still better than facing all of... this. Darwin grabbed her, hugged her like a drowning man, and bawled against her neck with a voice that wasn't quite his own. If she was surprised by his sudden clingyness or alarmed by the signs of him losing control and shifting, she didn't let it on. Instead, she hugged him back and more or less dragged him until he felt something pushing against his calves and sank onto a still warm couch.

When had be become such a crybaby? Why couldn't he stop, pull himself together? Voices talked in the background, too low for him to understand what they were saying over the sound of his own bawling, but someone moved away and a little while later, another pair of hands pulled him away from Darla. It was only then that Darwin realized that the crackling and tingling had stopped, that his skin had stopped boiling, and that all the noises in the room were those of him crying and nothing else. Somewhere along his breakdown, the change had stopped in its tracks.

"Jesus, Darwin, what's wrong?" Harry asked and pulled him closer until Darwin's head landed on his lap. That felt better, good enough to slow down the tears into whimpering hiccups. He still didn't have a clue why he couldn't stop crying, how he had actually stopped himself from shifting, or what to say. What wasn't wrong with his life?

Still, he tried to answer. There was a lot of sobbing and clutching Harry's shirt, misunderstandings and confused inquiries, but after a while, they got it. And them understanding why Darwin was this distraught helped him finally calm down all the way.

The couch moved a little as someone readjusted themselves. Darla was the first to break the silence, if only to talk over Darwin's head. "I get it."

"I don't," Harry growled. "That's the cruelest thing I ever heard, telling your son he has to leave his mate. Who does that!" Combing his fingers through Darwin's hair, he looked down at him. "Are you sure you understood him right? That doesn't sound like your father at all."

A hand touched Darwin's shin and petted it. Darla kept talking, ignoring Harry. "He's responsible for what happened to Darwin, you know? At least he feels like it. In his eyes, he let it happen. In his eyes, nothing is as it was supposed to be. The person he trusted- an Alpha- used his power for evil and he didn't do anything against it. And now another Alpha is after Darwin. What is he supposed to think when he couldn't even trust his own with his son?"

"That's stupid," Darwin mumbled, burying his face into Harry's shirt. His his throat felt raw, but at least he sounded more like himself again. "He's in a wheelchair. He would have been no match for Carl. That's why I didn't tell him in the first place, he would have gotten himself killed!"

Darla's hand kneaded his leg as if to take the sting out of her words. As unusual as her sensitive behavior was, Darwin appreciated it. "That's the point. You are a submissive. He's a dominant. You patronized him and risked your life in the process and you're not supposed to do that. He is supposed to protect you, not the other way around, no matter his physical condition. It's instinct and you know that. Shielding him from everything was okay as long as your family thought you were dominant, but a submissive protecting a dominant? That must be a horrible position to find yourself in. It had to hurt when he found out what happened. And then you were saved by a stranger who is now in the process of taking you away from him and there's nothing he can do against it, except scream at you and forbid it. You took his balls, just like you took my freedom."

Darwin flinched. As calm as Darla sounded, her words burned him more surely than a physical punch. He tried to say something, deny her allegations, he even opened his mouth to tell her to fuck off, but no sound passed his lips. What if she was right? No, she probably was right, at least a little. Didn't matter. "I had no other choice!" he whined, still buried against Harry. "He couldn't have helped. He has to know that!"

The sound of blood rushing through his veins filled the following silence. The rubbing on his back and the massage on his leg went on, pulling the last shreds of energy out of him until he felt more like an empty shell than a person. Maybe Darla was right. Maybe his father would never accept Jared, because Darwin had fucked up. But there had to be some way out of this, some way around losing everything he had. He just couldn't think of it. Not yet.

"What am I supposed to do now?"

"Well," Darla huffed and shoved his legs from her lap as she stood up. "Give the man back his balls."

~*Jared*~

Jared found Margo in the spacious kitchen, fiddling around with the coffeemaker, her face scrunched up in concentration. She glanced at him, huffed and pushed a few buttons. "I hate these modern things. They never work like they're supposed to and those horrible little tabs cost a fortune," she muttered. Scratching her head, she straightened and abandoned the machine to look at Jared. "Why the long face? I thought your boy found his sanity again. At least that's what I surmised from Rich whining about you forcing your way into Darwin's cell."