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LYKOS Second Skin Chapter 17 (The Bite Not Taken)

A burning heat radiated through Marco, the fever feeling as if it was roasting him from the inside out and tenderizing his flesh. He tossed and turned in a restless sleep. The blankets felt like they were suffocating him and the breeze from the box fan was far from strong enough. He thrashed against his covers before he summoned enough strength to cast them off, his arm hitting the wall with the inadvertent thrust of his arm.

Marco lay there for a moment, breathing in ragged breaths, feeling his temperature starting to fall as the cooler air kissed his hot skin. Eventually he forced his hazel brown eyes open, looking up at the ceiling blearily. Marco took in the familiar and yet alien surroundings. He blinked a few times, trying to clear the confusion from his fevered slumber. Hadn't he been somewhere else? Somewhere uncomfortable? He looked at the poster taped to the white cinderblock wall, the tiny white Christmas lights taped to the underside of the shelving that ran around the room - specifically, around the dorm room he'd had freshman year.

With caution, Marco pushed himself up from bed, finding it far easier than it should have been. He felt lighter, and he didn't feel hair brushing his shoulders or his collar bone. He reached up to run a hand over his face and found no beard, just smooth cheeks.

"What in the-" Marco started to speak, but stopped. His voice was higher than it had been in months. Marco's heart felt like it was trying to race in his chest, but the pitiful thumping was nothing compared to what he had grown accustomed to. With hands braced on the side of the bed, Marco pushed off and launched himself into the air, stumbling across the carpet in an awkward gangly attempt to keep his balance. His body weight had dropped significantly.

With caution and care, Marco stepped over in front of the mirror next to the closet. Staring back at him was not the reflection of a self assured, confident Sophomore. It was the wide eyed, youthful, lithe and skinny freshman he had been a year before. Marco reached up and ran his fingers through his short, smooth black hair. He felt his soft cheeks, his smaller hands. There was no denying it, but then Marco couldn't begin to understand it either.

He knew he had been a prisoner in some dark and twisted facility, but now? It didn't feel like a dream or a vision. He felt the carpet beneath his smooth feet, he felt the heat coming off of the light bulb above the mirror. Turning to take in the rest of the dorm room, it was just as he remembered it. Fletcher's half of the room was a mess, covered with piles of clothes and posters from video games. His over-clocked computer tower was spinning away, glowing with an aurora of light. There was even a small rubber Jack-o-lantern stress ball Fletcher had gotten for Halloween.

"Halloween..." Marco whispered in realization. He walked back over to the window and pulled the curtains. The plastic panels clattered as they slid open, bumping into one another, revealing the evening beyond. A low, thick fog had settled over the campus, obscuring the Hawk's Nest from view other than vague glowing spheres of light in the mist. Every so often a shadow would pass below, a student on the way to a party or coming back from a study group.

It wasn't just any night he had woken up in. It was Halloween night, freshman year... Marco stared in utter shock, trying to figure out how he had woken up in his own past, feeling like a ghost in his own spritely, juvenile body... on the night when Artyom had changed his life forever. The weight of it came rushing over Marco like a sneaker wave back home. If he really had 'woken up' in the past, he had the power to redirect the flow of time. He knew about Demeas, the Rising Sun attacks, the revelation of werewolves, of the hunters coming to the box canyon to kidnap the werewolves...

Marco swallowed from the immense pressure and responsibility it all represented, but even his swallow seemed tiny and insignificant. Being a human again was just so weird. Marco looked over at the alarm clock sitting on the shelf. Six thirty, almost time for his campus safety job to start. With some hesitation he turned off the box fan, grabbed his burgundy campus safety vest and his lanyard badge and slipped out of his room.

**** Footfalls echoed as Marco circled around the steps, heading down floor after floor toward the basement of Keller hall. While it had been hard at first to get used to his smaller body, there was a strange glee in being so light. He practically flew, and when he jumped he remained airborne for what seemed like way too long. There was an odd grin on his lips as Marco's feet came down on the final landing before he recomposed himself.

Pushing through the door into the basement den, Marco's eyes fell on a familiar, all be it slightly younger figure. Fletcher was sitting on the overstuffed couch that sat in the center of the living room like den. His shaved, short brown hair was hidden beneath a beanie cap and the video game menu reflected off the lenses of his black frame glasses. The cool fall night had inspired him to wear a long sleeve teal t-shirt on underneath his favorite Linkin Park shirt, matching the teal and black plaid flannel pajama pants on his legs.

Marco was taken aback for a moment at just how young Fletcher looked, not to mention the silver nose ring he had. When had he stopped wearing that? And was he taller than Marco? He was! Marco had forgotten that... That had been the last day Fletcher had been taller.

"Settling in for a long night?" Marco asked.

"Marco?" Fletch questioned, turning around, "Don't you have your safety walk?"

"I do, I just... wanted to check in first." Marco said. Fletcher grinned.

"That's sweet! Hey, when you're done, come crash with me. Silas and I are going to be taking down a fort, but between you and me, I think we could use all the help we can get. Silas is hopeless when it comes to grenade management." Fletch smiled. Marco couldn't help but smile warmly, feeling his love and longing for Fletcher bubbling out, especially seeing him this young, this innocent.

"I will... I mean, I'm sure you'll see me sometime tonight." Marco said softly, "I think we have a lot to talk about."

"Ohhh, I mean, yeah... I'm a bit behind on laundry, I'm so sorry." Fletch winced. Marco laughed out loud and shook his head.

"It's nothing bad. No worries. Have fun, Fletch." Marco said softly before he moved back toward the door, stopping to glance back over his shoulder. Fletcher was setting up the voice chat with Silas, getting ready for hours of gaming. Marco was relieved to see that moment, to see Fletcher again. He realized just how much he had been missing him... and how much he wanted to protect him from getting hurt.

The smile slipped from Marco's lips and he realized staying there too long was a risk. He started moving back up the steps, no longer feeling the euphoric feeling he had coming down. No, climbing that many steps without the muscles of a werewolf was actually a bit tedious, but it gave him a chance to think. If he really had wound up in his own past, saving Fletcher was exactly one of the things he wanted to do... If he could spare him an untimely death, an evil possession, and changing the course of the world... He had to. The question was, what path would he take?

**** The fog outside was incredibly thick, drifting between the old trees and the even older brick buildings. It carried an otherworldly orange glow given life by the old lamp posts that spanned the campus. Streamers hung from flagpoles, Jack-O-Lanterns peered out with the light of LED candles, and students moved through the haze on their way to countless activities now that the younger trick-or-treaters had left campus.

Marco walked down the gentle slope of the parking lot, flashlight in hand. The vest seemed so big on him, his lanyard hanging loose. He had replayed this night over and over again in his mind, but never in such detail. He could smell the moisture soaked bark dust, the faint aroma of the roses in front of the dorms, even the paint fumes coming from the theater building's set design class.

It was almost surprising how easily it came back to him. He had his old route, his eyes scanning the parking lot, then the fences along the steep edges of the creek... and then the footbridge that connected to the gardens behind the gym. The fog was thicker, making it impossible to see through, but Marco knew what was down that way, what was coming, what fate awaited him - or at least he thought he did.

Marco's eyes narrowed a bit as he realized that it wasn't shadow playing on the fog, but light - colored light. Red and white pulses drifted through the fog, refracting off of the distant windows of the gym. Marco's heart raced before he looked at his watch. This was the time, this was the moment, but Artyom wasn't there.

The first step came in curiosity, the second in confusion, and then the third in panic. Marco pushed across the footbridge, breaking into a sprint. He made it past the gardens, rounded the corner around the gym and made it several more yards until he felt a most unusual sensation. His lungs hurt, stinging in a sharp, coppery feeling. Marco realized he was winded from that short sprint, his frail human body unused to the physical exertion.

Cheeks burning in embarrassment, Marco managed to push himself those last few yards before he saw the source of the light. An ambulance had pulled up to the front of the gym. Paramedics were gathered around a gurney. They counted down and the gurney was lifted up, the legs extending long enough to give it support before they transferred it into the back of the ambulance. For one brief moment, Marco saw Artyom unconscious on the gurney before the back of the ambulance was sealed up.

In moments the vehicle lurched and then rolled away, disappearing into the fog. Marco stood there with a stitch in his side, sweat rolling down his forehead while the cold air nipped at his arms. He'd never felt more human, and with Artyom gone, Marco realized that it was a condition he very well might be stuck with.

**** The fog was just as thick at the Echo Creek hospital, filling the space between buildings, carrying the cream colored glow cast by the Christmas tree lights that wrapped around the thin wispy trees dividing lanes around the parking lot. Marco stepped through the automated doors, feeling a heavy dose of déjà vu.

The hospital was mostly empty, only one janitor was busy waxing the floor of the gift shop. Marco made his way down the curving hall that went past the Emergency Room, pretended to duck into the bathroom and then slipped down the employee only hallway. Eventually they put a security door there, but at the moment it was clear sailing.

Marco's heart was racing with anxiety. He knew he could get in trouble for being here, but he had to know. He slowed down as he reached the break room and then peeked in through the window. It seemed that fate was on his side. There was only one doctor inside, a man in his mid thirties with a silver streak to his brown hair. He looked tired and weathered, a condition that Marco knew to be constant.

"Doctor Woods?" Marco asked as he eased the door open. The doctor turned, startled before his eyebrow rose.

"This is an employee only area." He said, standing up from his TV dinner.

"I'm sorry, I'm... a member of Artyom Yashin's pack. I... I had to see how he was doing." Marco said. Doctor Woods softened a bit.

"Are you a keeper?" He asked.

"No, I'm an-" Marco hesitated. What was he going to say, an alpha? Doctor Woods could smell that he was human. Marco nodded, "Well, something like that."

"Maybe it's good you found me here, I suppose it's not something we can discuss out on the floor. Artyom is suffering an acute respiratory attack. His bronchia are swollen and several of his alveoli have ruptured. Officially I am going to have to say that it was some sort of prank gone wrong. Unofficially, its wolfsbane poisoning. I know some of the wolves use it recreationally despite the danger, but Artyom took it too far."

"Is he going to be okay?" Marco asked.

"I'm not sure yet... His healing factor hasn't kicked in yet. It's suppressed by the wolfsbane." Doctor Woods replied. Marco took a soft breath. It just didn't make sense. He'd been in the right place at the right time, but it had been Artyom that had missed it.

"Can I leave my contact number for updates?" Marco asked.

"The hospital allows direct family members updates, is there a name you could use that would blend in?" Doctor Woods asked. Marco thought back to when Fletcher had helped him sneak in, using an alias that had been an oddly good fit at the time.

"Damori Yashin." Marco said, writing down his number and handing it to the doctor. Nathan nodded, accepting the slip.

"Don't expect any change tonight... but I'll send you the information when I can." He replied. Marco took a breath at that and nodded, excusing himself from the break room. The walk back seemed three times as long, and it felt much harder to sneak past the entrance to the ER. When he finally felt the cool, humid foggy air hit his skin it felt like a welcome release. Marco made it as far as the underside of the skybridge before he sat down on the cold cement and stared out at the Christmas trees.

There was the faint sound of a fountain babbling away behind him and the green, yellow and red glow of a street light in the distance. No cars came or went, leaving the light to change in sequence. Marco sat there, thinking about how fragile time was, how fragile life was... and before he knew it, he'd retrieved his cell phone and dialed the number he knew by heart. He held the phone up to his ear and waited. The phone rang once, twice, three times before there was a click on the other end.

"Hello?" The voice was soft, melodic and curious. Marco smiled despite himself.

"Hi mom, happy Halloween." Marco said.

"Marco! You never call. What's wrong?" Cira asked.

"Mom..." Marco glowered, eliciting a laugh on the other end.

"Happy Halloween my darling son." Cira said more seriously.

"How are you and dad doing?" Marco asked.

"You know your father; he's always buried in his works. Sometimes I wonder if he likes organic chemistry more than his own wife. But we're good, we're comfortable. The house seems a little empty without you though." Cira replied.

"I know mom. I miss you both too... and home. Just make sure dad doesn't take it for granted." Marco said softly.

"Three months at college and already so mature... Marco, what's brought this on? Are you alright?" Cira asked. Marco hesitated, not sure how to answer.

"I'm just finding myself, who I am and who I want to be." Marco said softly.

"Well, if you ever need to talk, I'm just a phone call away, day or night, alright?" Cira asked. Marco smiled a bit despite himself.

"Alright. I love you mom." Marco said warmly.

"I love you too Marco." She answered. Marco held the phone to his ear for a moment before he hung up, lowering his hands into his lap. The phone screen remained illuminated for a few moments before it went dark, leaving Marco back in the cool, humid night air. Marco looked up at the tall buildings, the glowing hospital suites. He knew rationally there wasn't anything else he could do for the moment. Artyom was in good hands and most of the town had already gone to sleep. Thankfully Marco knew at least one person that was still up in the middle of the night.

**** Marco moved down the steps to the basement of Keller hall again, this time taking a slower pace. He still couldn't figure out why this time had been different... If he was the only difference in the way things were unfolding, Artyom shouldn't have had any different reaction to the wolfsbane poisoning... but he did. Was it a one in a million chance he'd lasted long enough to be saved the first time? Before Marco reached the last landing, he could already hear Fletcher's voice... and it was an exchange he had heard long before.

"Frag grenade... No, FRAG grenade. Silas, can you hear me? Frag..." a slight pause, "Great... EMP grenade. You realize you just disabled our defenses, right? All the turrets are down... Yes, all of them." Marco moved into the basement and watched Fletcher playing, his Bluetooth headset resting on the side of his face, "And now there's a frag grenade in the middle of the rubble. Perfect."

Marco moved over wordlessly and sat down on the couch next to Fletcher, looking at the screen, trying to figure out how the game worked. He felt a bit ashamed he hadn't taken the time to learn more about it, though as they'd become a couple he'd learned later games. Marco actually smiled a bit when he realized he was going to have an advantage for once. Fletcher turned and looked at Marco with a smile, although his face became a little more quizzical when he saw how tired Marco was.

"Dude, rough night? You're never up this late." Fletcher asked.

"I had some things to check on, one of the students went to the hospital... and I've been doing a lot of thinking about my own life. Hopes, regrets." Marco said.

"That's some pretty deep stuff." Fletcher admitted. Marco nodded before he turned, sitting on the couch sideways. Marco felt his human heart flutter, finding it amazing that he could be nervous after everything they had shared, but this Fletcher... hadn't shared any of it yet. Marco took a breath and looked into Fletcher's warm caramel colored eyes.

"Fletch... I'm gay." Marco said. Fletcher's eyes widened in surprise before a grin crossed his lips.

"Really?! That's great! I mean, that's so cool! Me too!" Fletch beamed.

"And I like you a lot." Marco said. Fletch kept smiling, but his jaw slowly opened as he processed what Marco had just said in context, the gears turning in his head. Marco realized he might need another nudge. He swallowed, "I want to be your boyfriend." he added. This time Fletcher's eyes widened even more.

"Silas, gotta go. Good game." he muttered before he grabbed his headset and threw it off his head. His grin got almost manic before he crawled across the couch and grabbed Marco. Marco grinned at his energy and wrapped his arms around Fletcher's waist before he flipped him, pinning him to the cushions.

"We're in the common room..." Marco said. Fletch grinned, gazing up into Marco's hazel eyes as he nodded eagerly.

"I know, and it's three in the morning. No one will be up." he whispered.

"Good enough for me." Marco replied before he brought his lips down to Fletcher's. In moments their lips were parted and their tongues were tangling. Marco had the confidence of knowing just what Fletcher liked and how good they'd be together, but he could tell Fletcher was holding a pent up flame for him as well... and then the surprising happened.

Marco grunted as he was rolled onto his back and Fletcher forced his way on top. Without the gift of Lycanthropy, he WAS a little bit taller, and apparently that sprightly muscle was put to good use. Fletcher brought his groin down, pressing it to Marco's, using gentle gyrating motions. Marco murmured, grabbing his shirt and pulling it off. Fletcher looked down at Marco's swimmer muscles and licked his lips.

"Fuck me..." Fletch grinned. Marco nodded and unzipped his pants, fishing out his hard, erect manhood. Fletcher grabbed his pajama pants and underwear and tugged them down in one fluid motion before he lifted himself up before coming down, his warm ass cheeks hugging Marco's shaft.

"No lube?" Marco asked softly. Fletcher shook his head.

"Might be rough, but I don't want to stop for anything. My hot roommate just said he wants to be my boyfriend, and I'm not going to make him regret the decision." Fletcher said before he came down. Marco gasped as he felt his cock squeeze into Fletcher's tight hole. He moaned at that and then thrust up, making Fletcher gasp out. His hands came down onto Marco's pecs for support, and he wriggled his way down a little before he lifted up and then came down again.

Marco growled, though it sounded rather different as a human. He started to thrust up and down, his hips bouncing on the couch cushion. Fletcher moaned out louder, panting harder, grunting as he bit his lip. It didn't take Marco long to get into the swing of things. As it became easier and easier to thrust, he tilted his hips to increase friction and hit Fletcher's most sensitive spots. Fletcher writhed and moaned, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

"Fuck yes... How are you so good at this?!" Fletcher panted.

"I must be the man of your dreams." Marco grinned, leaning up. He kissed Fletcher's sternum, then his pecs, adjusting his thrusting angle so he could grab Fletcher's head and kiss him while they fucked. Fletcher rode Marco's tool like a pro, their lips hungering for another, wet and lewd smacking sounds coming as they embraced. Fletcher shivered and moaned and soon Marco felt a hot sticky wetness across his chest. Marco grinned, but to his surprise, he wasn't able to hold back either. He gasped, inhaling sharply as he came inside Fletcher, pumping out every ounce of pearly white human seed that he had to offer.

Both young men were left panting, holding each other, desperate for breath. Fletcher shuddered and laid his head on Marco's shoulder. Marco held him, arms sliding around his back, supporting him tightly. Fletcher nuzzled Marco's neck, getting into the crook of it. Marco ran his hand up and down Fletcher's back lovingly. Marco closed his eyes and inhaled what little of Fletcher's scent he could smell as a human.

History was unfolding differently, but maybe that was a good thing... If Yom wasn't so desperate to claim him as his own, he wouldn't hurt Fletcher. If Fletcher wasn't killed, he wouldn't have to make a deal with Demeas for his own life. If Demeas didn't get a foothold, the secret of the werewolves would never have been revealed. Maybe he could even warn people about the terrorist attacks the hunters would plan, but first... he had to keep house. There was another person he had to save, but that would come after a good night's sleep with Fletcher in his arms.

**** A cool November breeze blew between the science and art buildings, funneling along the narrow passageway before pooling into the small zen garden tucked away like a hidden grotto. It was a beautiful area full of exotic willowy plants and ferns, as well as several benches. Despite its beauty, the remote location meant few visitors. Marco knew it was for that reason that it was a destination for Udo. Marco merely hoped that his gambit would work.

He had been sitting there for almost half an hour, his textbook sitting on his lap. The cold was nipping at his bones. Marco had even shivered a few times. Studying wasn't going to be necessary, he remembered the test and he even remembered which questions he had gotten wrong the first time. With any luck, Udo would appear at any moment... but there were still risks.

Marco knew how shy and aloof Udo was at the start of the year. He was a newly turned omega, bitten by the campus pack omega. He was the bottom of the totem pole. If he knew Marco was there in his spot, he would probably just turn around and try to go somewhere else, but Marco had been careful. The wind was just right and he'd used a few other tricks to cover his scent. Now all he had to do was wait, although waiting as a human was so different. He couldn't hear anything other than the wind, and he couldn't smell anything either. It was a strange form of sensory deprivation, but it was almost a relief after being overwhelmed for so long.

At almost forty five minutes, Marco caught a brief flash of blond hair in the corner of his eye. He turned and smiled, seeing the young, lithe form of Udo coming down the path. He had on tight black jeans and a baggy black sweatshirt, his backpack hanging on one shoulder. Blue eyes looked up and then widened in surprise. There was a moment's hesitation before he turned to leave.

"You don't have to go..." Marco called out. Udo blinked, realizing he'd been caught.

"It's okay, I forgot something." Udo murmured.

"We could study together, it's a very nice spot, and there's room enough for two on the bench." Marco called out. Udo hesitated, lingering, his mind processing the unexpected invitation. Marco smiled a little more, "You're Udo, Udo Hoen, right?" Marco asked. Udo's lungs filled a bit.

"Yeah..." He answered. Marco smiled more.

"We sat in the same group for some of the orientation activities. I'm Marco Iona." Marco said. Udo smiled a little, not entirely sure why.

"I'm Udo, but you already knew that." He said, blushing. Marco kept smiling and patted the bench next to him. Udo reached up to brush his blond bangs out of his face before he walked over and sat down, unzipping his backpack. He pulled out a textbook of his own, one on philosophy.

"It's a really nice spot. Quiet, peaceful, a little slice of nature." Marco said, opening his western civ book back up. Udo nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, it's a really good place to relax." Udo said as he flipped to the appropriate page of his philosophy book. Marco smiled as he started skimming, watching Udo out of the corner of his eye. Udo was tense at first, but as the minutes passed, he started to relax more and more. He got into the reading and started really going to town. Marco smiled, feeling good at being close, though he also felt how deep the cold was getting to him. It wasn't until his teeth started chattering that he realized how rough it was getting.

"You're freezing, and you're not dressed for the weather." Udo said after a moment, looking up with curiosity and concern, "Why did you come here?" he asked. Marco swallowed a bit.

"I... I knew this was one of your favorite spots, and I wanted to get to know you better." Marco admitted, "I was hoping we could be friends."

"I don't know about that, I'm not exactly the kind of guy that makes friends easily." Udo admitted. Marco nodded eagerly.

"I get that, I really do, but that's the kind of person that makes the best friend once that trust is earned." Marco said. Udo's brow furrowed a bit as he looked Marco over.

"So you froze yourself half to death just to be my friend?" Udo asked. Marco nodded with a smile before he leaned back and spread out his arms, resting one along the back of the bench.

"Yep. I'm thinking about becoming a Keeper, so better to know now if I can survive the elements." Marco smirked. Udo's eyes widened a bit as he looked around and then back at Marco.

"You know?" He whispered. Marco nodded, though he shivered more as the wind picked up and he pulled his arms back to his body to conserve heat.

"I just want to help people however I can, and I want to share the love and respect I have in my heart. So anytime you want to talk, I'll be there. Anytime you want to study, and you're welcome in my dorm anytime." Marco said. Udo looked at Marco, unable to keep himself from smiling despite his cautious nature.

"I wonder if you have any idea about how much trust you inspire." Udo said, "Although I don't know if your boyfriend will like me dropping by." Udo said. Marco smirked.

"You can smell him on me, can't you?" Marco asked. Udo nodded. Marco smiled more, "Something tells me Fletcher would enjoy your company as much as me. Trust me, our dorm can be a safe space for you." Marco said. Udo looked at Marco for a long moment, trying to figure him out before he scooted closer until they were hip to hip. Marco murmured in relief, feeling how surprisingly warm Udo was even through his sweatshirt.

"We'll study for five more minutes and then we're going to the café for hot chocolates, okay? I can't have my new keeper freezing to death." Udo said. Marco smiled at that and leaned over to kiss Udo's cheek. Udo's eyes flashed yellow for a moment but he smiled, his heart racing before he looked back to his philosophy book, trying and failing at reading any word of his homework.

**** There was something deeply satisfying about surrendering to a midday nap in college. Bodies were still growing a little, lifestyles were changed with the stop and go nature of classes, and Fletcher and Udo made a fantastic blanket. Marco only approached consciousness as he felt a tingling filling his left arm as circulation returned to it. Marco stirred only slightly, still feeling the weight of Fletcher lying against his left side and Udo on his right. His eyes opened a little, looking around.

Udo was still fast asleep, his mop of blond hair fallen across his face. He had tucked into Marco's chest gracefully, his head finding a natural pillow on the curve of his shoulder to his chest. He slept so deeply when he felt safe, and Marco wanted to keep him that way. Marco turned his head ever so slightly to look at his other side where Fletcher had passed out, sprawled over Marco's arm in a less dignified position. His head was tipped back and he snored slightly.

Despite the strange position, Marco couldn't help but smile. He even smiled when he saw the clock, knowing that one of his classes was starting in six minutes. Marco moved only slightly, trying to pull Fletcher closer. He rolled over in his sleep, his face slipping up onto Marco's chest. He smacked his lips a bit in his sleep before he drifted back again. Marco exhaled slowly, feeling a great, deep contentment.

This was a nearly perfect moment. He had brought two of his loves into the fold, told them he loved them and made it work. He never wanted that moment to end. Fletcher and Udo were safe... but one person was still missing, Artyom. Marco's phone hadn't left his side, and he hadn't risked letting it go even below half a charge... but there was still no word from the doctors, so he had to wait. If that meant waiting in bed with Fletcher and Udo napping on him, that was a fate he was happy to endure.

Marco slowly closed his eyes, listening to Fletcher's breathing, feeling Udo's heart beating against his ribs. Marco thought back to how he and Fletcher had kissed that morning on the footbridge outside of the cafeteria, or how he'd tried and failed to race Udo to the gym. Each moment was a gift, a gift that he didn't want to squander. Another wave of sleepiness swept up over Marco as he felt so warm and safe and soon his breathing grew slower, his eyes stayed shut, and he drifted off again with two freshman laying on him to keep him warm.

**** Miniscule white flakes of snow drifted down from the silver clouds, so fine that they defied gravity to linger moments longer than they had any right to. The moment they touched the ground, though, they melted away without a trace. Marco had bundled up, trying to fend off the cold as he moved along the thick white cement slabs that ran behind Keller hall. Marco had finished his classes for the day and he was intent on grabbing a bunch of juice drinks from the Hawk's Nest for that night's gaming marathon.

Across the courtyard, one of the back doors to the frats opened, allowing both laughter and frat boys to spill out. It was an inevitability having Keller and Hawkstray halls capped off on either end with frat buildings, but there was one laugh that made Marco freeze up. Marco looked over at the group of tall, broad shouldered men and spotted one that was all too familiar.

In the middle of the crowd was a rowdy, self-assured, six foot tall sophomore with rusty reddish brown hair shaved short on the sides and long on top, worked up into a bit of a mohawk. Carefully manicured stubble framed his face, and even in the cold weather he wore a burgundy tank top that showed off the tattoos on his muscled arms - the periodic table element for gold on the back of his right arm and silver on his left.

Marco felt dizzy, weak, then hot and cold at the same time. The only thing making it any easier was that Duncan looked so much younger. He hadn't grown out his stubble or tied his hair into a top knot. Marco turned around and headed down the side path to Keller hall, stopping in the tunnel that ran through to the front side. He turned and looked back, watching the men trot down the steps to the Hawk's Nest.

It was an irrational reaction, but it reminded Marco of how he had wound up in his own past. He thought about how Duncan had been corrupted by Sigma, how he'd been turned into a beast... and then a dark flash filled Marco's mind. What if he hadn't been sent there by his own wish? What if Duncan had a hand in it? What if he wanted to be the one that turned Marco, that made him a werewolf?

A sudden vibration coming from Marco's hip shook him out of his tailspin. He nearly let out a sound before he fished out his cell phone and opened it up. An automated text had come in from the hospital. It was a patient transfer... to the Clearwater Long Term Care Clinic. Artyom wasn't just in a coma, he was expected to stay that way. Marco's heart felt like it dropped down to the pit of his stomach. Whatever timeline he had wound up in, it wasn't anything like the one he had known.

**** The doors swung open as Marco pushed through, Fletcher and Udo coming up behind him. The nurse at the desk sprang to his feet at the sudden intrusion, forcing Fletcher to sidestep over and put on his most concerned face.

"I am so sorry, we just got the news about Artyom... My name is Damori, Damori Yashin." Marco could hear Fletcher keep talking, no doubt trying to smooth over their arrival, but Marco couldn't stop. He moved down the hallway to the end, spotted the hastily written nametag on the door and pushed it open before moving in.

The blinds were cracked just a little, letting in just a hint of sunlight that cast up to the ceiling in perfect lines. Everything in the room was fresh, from the linens to the equipment. Marco froze in the doorway, feeling his small joints lock and his muscles stiffen. Right there, in the middle of the room with a breathing tube down his throat was Artyom... an Artyom he'd never had a chance to meet, that didn't know him, that didn't love him.

"Marco..." Udo said softly, coming up behind him. Udo rested a hand on Marco's shoulder, but Marco couldn't move. His fingers clenched, tightening so his nails dug into his skin. Was this the price? Was this to prove that he couldn't have everything? Maybe he could save Fletcher, but not Yom?

"I bought us a little time." Fletcher said softly, coming up behind the other two, "Marco?"

"Give him a minute." Udo said softly. Fletcher nodded at that, looking down the hallway and then back up before he wandered over to a drinking fountain. Marco stood there, frozen. Udo leaned closer until his chest touched Marco's back.

"I know this is intense for you. We can come back later, maybe when you're feeling more up to it? It's pretty raw right now." Udo said softly.

"I'm never going to feel more up for it. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. We were supposed... to be together, all of us." Marco said. Udo looked up at that with a little uncertainty, but he still had his trust and faith in Marco. He gave a gentle nod and slid an arm around Marco's waist, holding his stomach. Marco felt a bit of strength from the contact, but it still wasn't enough to counter the fact that Yom was on the edge of death.

The words kept running around in circles in Marco's head. He wouldn't feel up for this. He'd never feel prepared or ready because it wasn't supposed to happen. This was all wrong, for better and worse. Marco finally worked up enough strength to move, but he used it to turn and start moving for the door. Fletcher looked up from the fountain before darting after them, confused by the change.

"Wait, we just got here. Aren't you going in? Aren't you going to say anything?" Fletcher asked. Marco passed the nurse's desk, pushing through the doors. The sound of the creek carried on the air, crisp and cool.

"I don't know what to say, I don't know what to ask. I need answers to all of this." Marco said softly. He looked at Fletcher and Udo and gave a soft smile before he pulled Fletcher close and kissed his cheek. "I think I know where I can get some answers, but I don't know how long I'll be. You two should go back to the dorm. I'll be back as soon as I can." Marco said.

"Are you sure?" Udo asked softly. Marco nodded.

"Yeah, I think this is something I need to do on my own. I'll call another taxi." he said.

"Well, we're always just a text away if you need us, okay?" Fletcher asked. Marco nodded and gave Fletcher another kiss on the cheek and gave Udo a hug for good measure before watching them head to the waiting vehicle in the driveway. The truth of the matter was that Marco really wanted their support, but he couldn't risk revealing to them that he knew about events that were yet to come, at least not yet. There was only one person he could trust to keep that secret.

**** The skies were grey, the clouds carried along at impressive speeds by a pressure front. Marco paid the taxi driver and turned, moving up the gravel path that led to the Japanese heritage museum. He walked through an orange and black torii gate, his feet finding cement stepping stones set in the gravel path. The dark red painted exterior of the museum was well kept, wood panels emblazoned with kanji.

Marco had been there many times, always seeking guidance and answers. This time he knew he'd be raising more questions, but if anyone could be trusted with the knowledge he knew, it had to be Ren. Marco moved up the path, grabbed a hold of the door handles and pulled. The doors did not budge. Marco hesitated and tried again, only then seeing the white note taped to the inside of the glass portion of the door.

In flawless handwriting, Ren had left a note. The museum was closed for the week while the caretaker was on a trip back to Japan. The museum and all of its answers was sealed, no doubt by a combination of an incredible security system and all of the magic wards a keeper could leave behind. Marco's heart forgot to beat, his lungs forgot to breathe. Moments passed until finally, reluctantly, his hands slipped off of the door handle.

A week without answers... a week without guidance, help, insight. In that week Artyom could very well die. In that week he could make a mistake, get caught for knowing the future. He could get bitten or turned by accident, he could set his pack down a path to an even darker future. Marco felt powerless, weak, lost and uncertain. He dropped his arms to his side, tipped his head back and let out a shout of frustration that echoed to the fast moving clouds high above.

With every ounce of his anxiety channeled into that moment, he fell to his knees in the gravel and lowered his head, making up for the lost breath with rapid pants. A hot streak of moisture leaked from his right eye, curving down his cheek before falling down to the crushed stone below. Seconds passed, then minutes before Marco realized the futility of staying in the garden outside of the museum all day.

When Marco finally lifted his head, he realized he was no longer alone. Someone was sitting on the stone wall at the edge of the path. Nineteen years old, shaggy brown hair beneath a beanie cap, earrings dangling from pointed ears, fuzzy brown sideburns with blond tips and a smirk on his lips that Marco knew far too well.

"Fletcher..." Marco whispered, feeling a moment of elation that at last some fragment of his reality had broken through. It wasn't just Fletcher, it was his Fletcher from his own time... but as the figure lifted his head and gazed back with orange eyes, Marco's certainty wavered.

"Sad to say, not quite." He answered. His voice sounded like Fletcher's at least, but there was certainly something different about the way he said it. Marco pushed himself up slowly and moved closer before sitting down on a stepping stone in front of the young man. He looked up at him, at his orange eyes, at the tips of the tusks jutting down from his upper lip, at his pointed ears and fuzzy cheeks.

"I came here for answers... and I think you came here to give them." Marco said. The young man grinned and for the first time Marco was absolutely sure this person wasn't Fletcher. The smile just wasn't quite right.

"I think you came here to find the tools you needed, and the motivation. I just had to make sure you wouldn't get lost along the way." The young man replied.

"Who are you?" Marco asked more bluntly. The young man leaned back, bracing himself with his arms, his clawed fingers digging into the moss.

"I'm an old spirit. So old that I've forgotten my own name, but humans have called me lots of things over the years... I've watched over them, tried to keep them safe. They always need protection." He smiled fondly.

"Then what do I call you?" Marco asked. The spirit contemplated for a moment before he nodded to himself, as if agreeing with whatever internal chorus of thoughts spoke to him.

"You may call me Haechi." He said with some satisfaction at having summoned a name.

"Did you bring me here, Haechi?" Marco asked. The spirit shook his head.

"You brought yourself here. When you lost yourself, you fled to the last moment you had any certainty. I merely followed you here." He answered.

"So this isn't real? This isn't... the past?" Marco asked. Haechi laughed gently and shook his head again.

"No, but without the limitations of your body, your spirit has a freedom of imagination unmatched. This was a refuge for your soul, a chance to reflect on your life. You made interesting decisions." Haechi said, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his knees, his hands holding up his head, "You really would have avoided becoming a werewolf?"

"As long as I could. I thought it'd save Fletcher, maybe even all of the werewolves." Marco said, looking into the face of his boyfriend. Haechi smiled sadly at that.

"Rayne Fletcher might well have been saved, but to protect the werewolves, things happened exactly as they had to. If it hadn't been Fletcher, it would have been someone else. Demeas would have waited to make a deal with anyone that passed his way, and not everyone would have had a loving pack to look out for them, to protect them and bring them back. You stopped Demeas, you broke the connection, you saved the claw clan." Haechi said.

"You talk a lot like a keeper, you even used part of their catch phrase." Marco said with a hint of accusation in his voice. Haechi sat back up and smiled more.

"You noticed! I was wondering... But yes, there's a good reason for that. There are many kinds of guardian spirits, and when we saw those humans trying to protect their werewolves, we shared with them what we could. We gave them our magic, our wisdom, and protections of our own." Haechi said.

"And you've been protecting Fletcher since Demeas left? He's already been inhabited by one spirit, I don't know if I like the idea of another taking up residence." Marco said with a bit of a growl to his otherwise human voice. Haechi held up his hands.

"It's nothing like that... When Demeas was defeated, he left behind a wound in Fletcher. That kind of wound takes time to heal. When that healing is done, I will move beyond the veil and he will be whole once more... though the blessing of our gifts is something that will remain with him forever." Haechi admitted. Marco considered for a moment.

"The wound is more than just having died and coming back, isn't it? It's his guilt for what happened, how people got hurt, even though it wasn't his fault?" Marco asked. Haechi nodded slowly. Marco sat in silence for a moment, looking around at the garden around him. It seemed so real, it felt so real. Marco looked back to the spirit, "Is... is there any way to share with him what the Fletcher here felt? The memories from this place? I know it might be confusing for him, but I think... I think it could help him." Marco said. Haechi started to grin much more, his saber-toothed tusks poking out more.

"I like you, human. You're very creative." Haechi said before he nodded, "I can give him this gift from you."

"And... what should I do now? Now that I have the tools that I need, the motivation?" Marco asked. Haechi stood up and stretched, a feline tail flicking out behind him as he yawned before he re-focused and looked back at Marco. He reached out, resting a clawed thumb on Marco's forehead.

"It's simple. Wake up." Haechi said before he poked Marco with his claw. The pinprick of pain blossomed into a flash of light, discomfort, pain, pleasure, disorientation and a sudden shift in mass. Marco felt the comforting world of illusion drain away, replaced with the humid, stuffy, pheromone soaked holding cell that he had lost his humanity in.

With a few blinks, his solid white eyes faded to amber and then hazel. Marco stood there, reeling with waking up in his contorted, corrupted body. It was powered by primal instincts, enhanced by tainted magic. It was rooted in the animalistic part of the curse and little else. His soul hadn't just fled. It had gone to a vision of the past to remind Marco where he had come from, who he had been. That was the tool he had needed.

Marco began to control his breathing, his huge chest rising and falling. He pushed the instincts away and quieted the beast, focusing on his humanity. He focused on what it felt like to be that young freshman, to be human. A tingling came from his ears as the points retracted, the cartilage reforming to normal human ears. His fingers felt odd as his claws retracted, the hard keratin flattening out into smooth fingernails.

He almost felt like he was dropping in an elevator as his spine contracted, his ribs compacting, his legs shortening. Patches of fur disappeared from his elbows, his chest and his back. Inch by inch he dropped back to a more reasonable six foot two, his pectorals still meaty and full but not beyond belief. Marco turned his head, his beard still long enough to trace across his navel, his hair hanging down to his ass cheeks.

Marco's toes tapped the cement floor as they returned to normal along with his feet, and his tail was gone in moments. It had taken great concentration, but at long last he looked human again - six foot two, hairy as a lumberjack, but human. Marco tried to hold on to that feeling as he turned, looking at the corner of the room.

Curled up in the afterglow of carnal sex, Duncan was as beastly as he had been before, but the change in the scent in the room caused him to start sniffing. His muzzle lifted up, his fang filled maw opening as a tongue lolled out. His canine head raised before white eyes met with Marco's. There was confusion and the beast rolled over, getting up onto all fours. Muscles and ligaments popped as he shifted back to a more bipedal form, the muzzle pulling back into the grizzled, bearded face.

The confusion bled into frustration at having its Alpha taken away again. Duncan lunged forward, ready to make an Alpha out of Marco again before Marco held out his hand. Duncan skidded to a stop, surprised by the move. Marco reached out and rested the hand on Duncan's fuzzy cheek, looking into his white eyes.

"It's time for you to wake up too, Duncan." Marco said softly, "Wake up." He commanded. The snarling beast shuddered, resisting, but slowly the fight drained away from him as color returned to his eyes. First it was the pinprick of black and then the gleaming gold of his iris. Marco held his ground, watching as Duncan's body began to contract and contort, shrinking back towards a more appropriate size.

Little by little, the animalistic traits were subsumed, although not everything went back to the way it had been before. Duncan was clearly wider, his beard and hair impossibly long, but his ears returned to normal, then his hands and feet, then finally his masculinity. Before long they were standing in the cell, hairy but human. Duncan blinked a few times before looking at Marco. His mouth opened to speak, but no words came. What words could even be appropriate?

"It's going to be okay Duncan... We'll figure it out. I just think it'll be easier to figure it out if we have our humanity intact." Marco said. Duncan nodded sheepishly, feeling incredibly embarrassed. Marco turned around, his eyes flashing back to amber as he took in his surroundings. Their situation was still dire, but having had a slice of home life with Fletcher and Udo had been invigorating. It cleared Marco's mind, reminded him what was important, and put things in perspective. When the time came, he'd seize any opportunity to free the werewolves and he would do anything he could to get back to Fletcher.

**** The Iona house was quiet for the most part, the only sounds coming from where Yom was stirring sugar into tea in the kitchen. Fletcher's program had worked, capturing login credentials of not just one high ranking Futurza employee, but three. The next phase of the plan involved using them when Haku had an airtight alibi to protect himself. Timing such an event required more waiting, and in that downtime Fletcher had surrendered to the irresistible urge to nap.

Curled up on the butter cream colored couch, Fletcher looked quite comfortable. His legs were doubled up, his arms held at his chest as he slept on his side. A slow grin crossed his lips as he slept, his muscles relaxing more and more until they were too relaxed to hold his position and his arm slipped, forcing him to jump a little and wake himself up. As he came to, he opened his eyes to see Artyom smiling from the chair across from him.

"Good sleep?" Yom asked, holding his cup of tea. Fletcher pushed himself up and yawned a bit, nodding.

"Yeah, good dreams... It was kind of nice to get away from the stress for a bit." Fletcher admitted.

"The smile is a good look on you." Yom commented.

"It was funny, it was so real and detailed. It was back at the start of Freshman year. Marco came right out to me, he didn't waste any time. He even scooped Udo up, made him feel safe and loved." Fletcher explained. Yom's smile faltered a little bit.

"What about me?" He asked, looking a little hurt. Fletcher leaned over and put a hand on Artyom's knee.

"Don't worry big guy, he was worried about you too. I just think my mind needed to decompress a little, to think of happier times. Maybe it's an omen that things are going to turn out okay. Well, at least for Marco. He was worried about you still." Fletcher winked. Yom rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his tea. Fletcher leaned back in his seat, just thinking back to the dream and how wonderful it was to bask in Marco's affections without anything else in the background, any concerns or worries... just to be in love. That was a feeling he had to hold on to.