Lex Parsimoniae (6/6)

[myths_by_kynx]

Previous

Tim leans heavier on him, mumbling words that Jared can barely hear, doesn't take the time to try either. He can't afford to switch on his emotions, or deal with anything but how to not fall the fuck down. Practical is all he has room for, clean Tim up, get some peroxide on the cuts before he makes a decision about an ambulance. Jesus fuck, should he even do that? Take a...werewolf to the hospital? Could...blow his cover or something. The fuck does he know about werewolf physiology, if it's any different from human? And is it covered by health insurance? Are they even covered?

It's got to be pure adrenaline and necessity gets them up the stairs to the guest room, because it certainly isn't Jared's supreme upper body strength. Takes him all of a couple of seconds of internal debate before hauling the both of them into the bathroom. He stops, panting for breath, leaning on the wall beside the shower. Tim's head lolls to the side as Jared reaches over to push the stall door open and turn the shower on. Stands for a second or two with his hand under the spray before it heats up to a reasonable level. One step done and a fuck load more to go.

Jared gets one hand behind his head and tugs the back of his hoodie up, twists his body one way and then the other trying to get it off but Tim's far too close to make it easy, or even doable for that matter. It's a struggle, he's fighting Tim for every inch higher he pulls the hoodie, but he finally manages to get it over his head. The arm that isn't around Tim is easy to wriggle the material off of, and he lets it drop between them because he's got no chance of getting it off completely. He'll deal with it later, same as his sweats; getting Tim in the shower and clean is more important than keeping his damp clothes from getting soaked.

It's barely three small steps into the shower and Jared visualizes them going through the glass walls of the shower stall with every one. Tim gasps as the spray hits him, hits the wounds more like, and he presses closer to Jared.

Jared turns them around and pulls Tim further under the spray. He's leaning against the wall, underneath the shower head and mostly clear of the water, with both arms around Tim and holding him up. He manages to drops his hoodie on the floor, wet splat barely audible over everything else.

Tim shakes as Jared strokes down his back to clean away some of the dirt and blood, trying not to press too hard. Soap would be good right now but it's difficult enough trying to keep Tim upright, both of them slippery with water, without making it worse.

"C'mon...just..." grunt of effort and he pushes Tim back under the spray. He holds him tightly and tilts Tim's head back, wet hand wiping away blood and dirt from his face before starting on his neck and chest.

Tim's no more awake now than he was before, still reaching, clinging to Jared and letting out breathy pain-filled moans that are just audible above the steady spray of the shower. Jared tries not to think about how much he aches, how his head's starting to spin from the heat as he washes Tim the best he can. It takes a while before the water stops pooling rust-red around their feet, clear with a tinge of pink isn't perfect but it's what he's got right now.

Jared shuts off the shower. Tim isn't clean-clean, but it's going to have to do. He needs to get Tim sitting or laying before Jared falls down and can't get up.

Tim's still leaning-clinging to him, but as Jared steps out of the shower, Tim's feet are working better. Jared's at least not having to carry all of Tim's weight this time, so he thinks its better.

Jared grabs a towel as soon as he's able, slings it over his shoulder because he's running out of steam fast, too fast to spend time trying to dry either of them.

"M'sorry, m...'sorry," Tim's arm tenses on his shoulder and Jared wonders if he's been mumbling that a while.

Whatever's been keeping Tim upright has obviously run it's course, because he slumps into Jared. That's all the warning he gets before Tim goes completely, legs collapsing under him and Jared nearly goes down with him. He tightens his grip on Tim and braces his legs, out right fucking refusing to go down but it's a miracle that he manages it and they're not collapsed on the floor.

Four more steps. That's all he needs to manage. He can do this. Just as soon as he stops swearing and using up energy that he doesn't have. One step, two, nearly there. Nearly fucking there. Three and...ok, more than four steps to the side of the bed...but nearly there. Nearly. Just a little...bit...further...and...there.

He tries to get Tim on the bed, bending over to ease him down but he's too worn out to hold Tim's weight. The mattress is soft, but he's worried about just how much more Tim's body can take. Not that he can do anything about it now.

Tim doesn't let him go. It'd been good, helpful, before...but now it really isn't. He needs to dry Tim off. Tim has other ideas, as Jared unwinds the arms around his neck, he's yanked towards the bed; too hard, and too fast for him to stop it. He's barely clawed together the realization of what's happening before Tim presses right up against him, more so than before, nearly pushing him right off the edge of the bed. Something warm and wet―tongue, has to be―is on his neck before Tim gives a satisfied huff of breath and hides his face in the crook of Jared's shoulder. Warm breath on wet skin and he shivers, not from the cold, bites back a groan because Tim always effects him like this.

He can't get sidetracked or distracted, no matter how much he likes what Tim can do with his tongue.

Jared tries to squirm free but every move he makes to get away, Tim drags-presses closer, clinging, arm tight across his chest, so much so that it's becoming difficult to breathe. He pushes Tim's arm, prising one finger away and then another, "I need to get up. Just...let me up a second."

"Don't." Tim's voice is low, quiet, husky-scratchy and Jared isn't sure if he's imagining a threat or not.

"Do. You're bleeding and I'm wet." Every flat, even, reasonable word makes his throat tighten a little more, and it's...fucking insane to be scared of Tim.

A slightly delayed growl, but very obviously a response, and Tim opens his eyes.

Tim's not home.

Lights are on but it isn't Tim inside. Isn't anything of the Tim that Jared knows in his eyes, just...something other. Yellow flecks in blue, but even if there wasn't, there's something blankly inhuman in the way Tim looks at him.

Jared gulps, stomach churning, vividly reminded of what he saw earlier, and maybe he shouldn't be picking fights with a werewolf. Even if that werewolf is Tim, somewhere in there, anyway. Tim's not in charge and Jared doesn't know enough about this other side of him to dare push too far.

Change of plan, then, and he forces himself to relax, pretending they're somewhere else, sometime else, hoping Tim'll register that, at least. He does, eases up his grip and Jared can breath a little easier. Ok, better, but he's got no illusions that he's getting away anytime soon.

He's still in danger of falling off the bed, Tim doesn't seem to be letting go anytime soon but that doesn't mean he won't. Jared turns slowly, hooks one leg over Tim's and reaches over slowly. It's not particularly graceful as he straddles Tim, stop-start at best because every time he moves a little further, Tim's grip tightens. He doesn't have time to savor the fact that he's got Tim beneath him like this, really isn't the time. He rolls off of Tim, to the side where there's actually space and he's not going to fall off. Tim's arms are still around him, body having rolled with Jared's.

Jared forces himself relax until Tim's grip eases up, before he goes back to trying to concentrate on the practical. Things that need doing rather than holy-fucking-god-Tim's-a-werewolf and he's got no clue what Tim―or the...wolf―wants from him.

Both he and Tim are absolutely soaking wet. The sheets are soaking up some, but that just means they're going to be damp for longer. It's a struggle, body twisting this way and that as he tries to push down his wet sweat pants. The material sticks to his legs but if he can just...there, catches a fold of them with one foot and drags them off. Naked isn't...he's not sure he wants to be naked with Tim at the moment but it's better than wet.

Distraction over, he lets his eyes wander along Tim's body, trying to gauge how bad the wounds are, if he should be reaching for his phone and dialing 911 or not.

Tim's scratched and bitten all over, vicious tears slicing through his skin and Jared thinks that if he presses in just the right way, he'll be able to see beneath the skin, pull the wounds open to see pink-red flesh and white of bone. There's fresher blood, but no fresh bleeding which settles him a little. If Tim was gonna bleed out, he'd still be bleeding.

Tim's still in pain, sounds like breathing is hurting him which, fuck, could mean damage he can't see, broken ribs, internal bleeding, any number of things that he's probably never even heard of. Holding onto Jared can't be making him feel better, but there's also nothing Jared can do about it, or at least, nothing Tim'll let him do except lie here and be held.

It's giving him too much time to think, time to twist and over-think everything into a flaming, spinning ball of neurosis that just keeps going until he needs answers. Tries to put it into words but it's fractured, stop-start, makes no sense so it's a complete surprise when Tim answers him, regardless of the way he does it.

"Protected. Kept safe." Tim's arm tightens around him slightly, cheek rubbing against him, "Mine."

Jared double takes, heart skipping a beat at 'mine'. Shouldn't make him feel like...feel all warm inside, s'just wrong, he shouldn't feel like this right now. Not when Tim's a bleeding wreck in his arms, or he's in Tim's arms, s'kinda the same thing.

He's dazed, disconnected, as Tim nuzzles and licks his throat, rubs his cheek against Jared's shoulder again. He doesn't think it's meant to be sexual, and he's got half an idea that it's meant to be comforting, and...it kind of is. Fucked up as hell, but it is.

"Mine," Tim repeats, softer this time, word said on an exhaled breath, "Pack."

Right then. Ok. Fuck.

Jared knows a fair bit about wolves, hobby interest admittedly, but enough. Isn't sure how much of that transfers to werewolves though. Everything Tim said makes sense...kind of...if he puts it in context but..ok, the werewolf element throws him completely. He's not sure about the 'mine', if it's a protection thing, how far or deep it goes, or how much of it is still there when Tim's...well, Tim. In his right fucking mind for a start.

He wonders briefly if this is what Tim meant when he said he wanted Jared too much because...because...it can't not be connected.

From the little Tim has spoken, Jared doesn't think he's going to get much sense out of him, isn't sure if Tim will even understand the deeper questions let alone be able to answer them.

Goddamn. He wants to do something, wants answers, wants to do anything but be forced to watch Tim bleed out in his arms and he's not even sure how much of Tim is even in there right now. Hopes like fuck he is. Tim still looks like Tim. Bruised, bloodied, wet and hair a damp mess and sticking up at all angles, but still Tim.

Jared can totally do this, cope with it, deal with it, he needs to pull himself out of his own head and get the fuck on with it.

The bathroom towel has somehow managed to survive the stumble and fall onto the bed, and he reaches over for it. Throws it over Tim, it's only a hand towel so doesn't take much and drags it down gently, drying and checking for bleeding. Tim's arms aren't too bad, considering and compared to, but his torso...Jared flinches just looking at the cleaned wounds before wadding the towel up and dabbing at one and checking the towel for fresh blood.

Speckles of pinkish-red but not as bad as he thinks it could be. He cusses under his breath though because the towel's not exactly effective and dammit, if Tim would just let him go and get the peroxide...

Tim isn't letting him up though, so Jared has to do what he can. Tim's not bleeding too much from anywhere, and drying one side is about the best Jared can do like this. He moves the towel higher, dragging the wadded material along Tim's cheek, slowly drying as much as he can and pushing wet tendrils of hair back. Tim's eyes close, breathing shallow, air rattling in his throat. Jared knows Tim's not asleep, just close to half dead from whatever he's been doing.

Jared's ever so slowly starting to process the enormity of the last forty-eight hours, but it's far from easy. Tim's a werewolf. Tim's also using him as a comfort-blankie-teddy-bear which normally he doesn't think he'd mind, but...it's kind of difficult to ignore the fact that he's being cuddled by a freaking horror movie monster who thinks Jared's...his? Pack?

Fuck. So many questions about that particular word, how much it relates to...everything, how much Tim's been keeping from him, how much of the Tim he knows is...real, for lack of a better word. And what the ever living fuck does belonging to Tim―even if it's all in Tim's head―even mean. Or...god, maybe the fight was related to that and no, he's got no clue what that means. Tim fighting for him? Should feel bad...shouldn't it? It's wrong, he's not a fucking prize, doesn't much feel like he's worth fighting for, either.

Beneath all of it, the craziness and his own disbelief, is the nagging question whether or not they can have a normal...whatever it is they're doing, were doing, could be doing. Relationship is a dirty word, heavy and loaded, but it's the best he's got right now.

Drying Tim and patting at the cuts doesn't use anywhere near enough brain function to keep him occupied, doesn't stop him thinking about everything else. He's not going to get anything out of Tim like this, definitely not getting answers to the questions he wants to ask, so there's no point winding himself up.

Jared closes his eyes for a second, and the image of the spider diagram from his notebook is right there, immediate and as picture perfect as he can make it. Everything pointing to Tim, every single fucking thing, even the dog―wolf―bite and...shit. Tim could've been bitten the first night. Shit, fuck, and shit, this could all be his fault, except...no. Jared being followed led back to Tim and that's been happening for months.

There's something there, and it might almost be relief except he's fucked in so many ways he can't count them up. Real live werewolves, he lets that thought settle but he still...he doesn't not believe it because he saw it happen, but the knowledge short circuits his brain with its very existence.

He sighs and opens his eyes, refocusing on Tim's wounds. Shifts as much as he's able to hold the wadded material firmly against the nasty looking laceration on Tim's side that's still seeping blood. Maybe not enough to worry him, but if it doesn't need stitches it'll be a fucking miracle.

"Really better not die on me," he murmurs, uncaring of if Tim hears him or not. As long as Tim stays alive long enough to answer Jared's questions and get him to the hospital.

* * *

Hurts. Everywhere. Ache of after-change and then more. Claws and teeth, he remembers those. Comes with pain.

Pain that's dulled since.

Blood, pain, growls and snapping teeth, urge to protect what's his and then...then there's now. Here. Spike of urgency to wake up. It's gone just as fast when he registers what his nose is telling him. Human instinct rises even higher to the surface as the wolf is placated. Tired, worn out, hurting, but satisfied.

Presses closer, clings more because this is the only thing he knows for sure.

Other scents register after the strongest. Inside smells that leave him disoriented. Doesn't know how he got inside, how he got to be here, not even sure where here is.

Isn't where he meant to be, knows that much. Claws a little more of himself back together, thoughts becoming more than just here-and-now by the second. Shouldn't be here, promised himself he'd be gone. Everything he needed packed, and hours away.

Not too late, he can still go. There's a rumbled growl from the inside of his head in response to that thought, doesn't want to leave. Never wants to.

Opens his eyes slowly, blinking at the light. Heart skips a beat when he sees Jared laying on his side, eyes open and just looking at him. Shit.

* * *

"So..." Jared licks his cracked lips, "Werewolf, huh?" It's not his best opener ever, actually it fucking sucks, but it's exactly what he's thinking. He wants Tim to talk, so he's giving him no leeway to dodge the question. There's no more point screaming and yelling than there was yesterday, and it's Tim, he has to believe that. Tim likes him, he told him, and yeah...he kinda sorta likes Tim a whole lot.

Tim opens his mouth but doesn't answer past a shaky, wide-eyed nod.

"And you're not travel sick." It's more of a statement this time. He's had the time to think about everything, put the pieces together properly and...ok, he knows he's missing stuff, there are gaps but he's not fucking stupid. Now that he knows where the spaces are and has a fair idea of their shape, it's easier. He just needs confirmation, needs to see Tim's reactions to what he's sure is the truth. Or part of the truth.

There's also the...certainty...trust perhaps, that whatever Tim is or isn't, he's got nothing else to lie about. Tim's a werewolf, can't get any worse than that, right?

Tim shakes his head, and Jared wishes he would say something, anything. He wants to hear Tim's voice, needs to know he can speak, that Tim's still in there, rather than the guttural growl of a few hours ago. He waits, hopes like hell Tim gets the message, or gets so uncomfortable in the silence that he tries to fill it. Any one of those options might've forced the issue, he doesn't care.

Tim inhales deeply, gaze fixed very much away from Jared, "Needed to be off the bus every few nights..." His voice is...quiet, rough around the edges and sounds painful as hell.

"To change?" Jared blurts and then kicks himself mentally, not knowing if it's the right phrase. All he's got is horror movies and comic books, until Tim gives him something else. He needs to figure out how exactly to say what's going on in his head, ask the questions he needs the answers to, and yes, Tim is going to answer. He has to, there's nothing to hide any more.

Tim nods, probably glad there's one less answer Jared's gonna demand, whether he's right or not. "I get sick, angry and just...body gets fucked up if I don't."

Well that explains the moon thing, or rather, lack of the moon thing. More little pieces start to fall into place. He always put Tim's moods down to being sick, tired, hasn't ever looked any deeper than the surface. He hasn't ever had a reason to look deeper. Tim's sneaky as all out fuck, to put it mildly. But then...Jared supposes he has to be. 'Hey, I'm Tim, bass player and werewolf', yeah, like hell Jared―anyone―would have hired him. Probably had him committed.

That doesn't help Jared all that much though, he doesn't know where to start, because his world has turned inside out and he's doing the best he can not to let it get the better of him. It's like staring into a tornado and standing still. He's not running from this, though, not when he's coped so far, it'd be like...a total waste of coping. If he's going to feel anything it's the sick sense of satisfaction he gets from not freaking the fuck out, or at least not in front of Tim. He's pretty sure he had a full-blown freak out while Tim slept―was unconscious, same difference―but he thinks he's talked himself out of another one for a good few hours yet.

Tim's mouth twitches and any other day it'd pass for a smile, "You ok?"

His voice is still wrecked and Jared thinks he should probably get him a drink soon. Not yet, Tim's awake and talking, and Jared doesn't wanna do anything to stop that.

"I'm..." He's really not o-fucking-k but there's degrees of ok and he's somewhere on the spectrum.

He uses the mostly dry towel to pat at one of the wounds on Tim's stomach. Tim's muscles flinch minutely but he doesn't move, lets Jared do what he wants, like he knows he needs to.

"This was worse, earlier," Jared says without looking up, "Thought you'd need stitches for sure."

"Won't...I..."

"Yeah, I figured it out when I watched...when you... S'fucking comic book shit right here in front of me."

"That's a pretty good analogy...hold onto that." Tim's eyelids flutter as Jared keeps patting with the towel.

It's mostly for something to keep his hands busy, not like Tim's wet or even bleeding anymore. The open wounds have turned into livid red nearly-scars...but they've closed up, and it's just something else to add to Jared's collection of what the fuck that he has going on in his head. He uses his fingertip to trace one of the longer ones, from Tim's stomach down to his hip. Tim moves faster than Jared would've though possible to grab his wrist and something tumbles off the edge of the world inside Jared. Does he want this? Does he want to live like this?

It's not just fear that's making his stomach flip over itself, there's an exhilarating thrill that's so close to sexual it's barely worth quibbling over. Doesn't matter he knows what Tim is, or could be. Tim affects him like this despite everything, and Jared knows that if Tim starts doing anything that's even halfway a come on, he'll be putty in seconds. It's easier to think while he's not looking at Tim, while he's got something else to concentrate on no matter how unnecessary.

He has to ask but he isn't sure if he's going to like the answer and he frowns at the wounds on Tim's stomach. "You were following me? The fucked up feelings of being watched and...everything else, that was you?"

"I..." He's begging Jared with his eyes, but for what? To understand, for forgiveness, maybe? To not ask questions, probably.

Strikes him that it's sort of a make or break moment, everything is weighing, teetering precariously, on how he reacts, not just right this second but the whole thing. He needs to tread carefully, Tim looks damn near broken already, like even one misplaced word will have him clamming up completely, walking out and not looking back.

"You're set on leaving, what've you got to lose?" And...that's really what his entire argument boils down to, why the fuck not?

"I...nothin' I guess?" Tim's rabbit in the headlights expression is getting old, but at least he's not arguing. "The wolf," growls softly and turns his face into the pillow. "When we...it was just getting off, I knew that, but it...I wanted more than that, ok?" Tim says the last with a sigh. "The...wolf didn't get it. Wanted you, and you were so close, had to fight so hard not to touch you but I knew what it was..."

Jared holds his breath, doesn't want to tell Tim to keep going. He's forced the issue enough and if they're gonna salvage anything, Tim needs to be honest with him, Tim needs to want to be honest with him.

"...I...when...the wolf just doesn't think that way. I wanted, knew you wanted...some of it. He didn't understand why we couldn't have you all the time, and I couldn't make him understand."

Shards of crystal rather than a whole piece, on one hand it's more than a little stalkerish. Jared isn't sure what Tim's getting at, not exactly, but he's getting enough to know that Tim couldn't help it. It makes him wonder how wide the separation is, how much influence Tim has over the wolf, and vice versa. For now though, the fact that Tim's been...well, Tim for as long as Jared's known him, if the wolf side has that much control, someone would have noticed a fuck off long time before now.

Jared coughs, clears his throat, licks lips and swallows, "Scared the shit outta me, y'know."

"I know, you hid it for a bit, but yeah." He stops and Jared says nothing, focuses on following one pink-red gash with his eyes, recalling how it'd been open and bleeding barely a few hours ago.

"I knew it'd gone too far, thought about leaving so many times, but you'd have slept even less trying to find a new bass player in the middle of the tour." He stops long enough for Jared to think about going to get Tim a drink, chase away the rasp in his voice. "Was planning on telling you I'm leaving this week, just hadn't got 'round to it yet."

The memory's vague but Jared thinks Tim said the same thing last night, "You said you were gonna leave. Last night, I mean."

Tim nods, "Can't stay, not after this. Need to put enough space between us that he―I―can't follow you. I kept putting it off, kept thinking I could control it, that maybe it wouldn't be so bad, that others'd leave me alone but I can't and then last night...fuck, Jared, you could've been killed going out there like that and it's my fault."

Thinking about Tim not being there at all makes Jared's chest hurt, and there's a fuck load they need to...sort out, talk through. There's things Jared needs to know before he can even think about what he wants from Tim, but he doesn't think he'll ever want him gone. Even without wanting it, it might be best. He doesn't have enough information to make a decision, needs to know more about Tim's wolf side, because he doesn't have half a clue what he's getting into. Nerves flutter in his stomach, "What did you...it want?"

"Million dollar question, not kill you if that's what you're thinking." Tim laughs but it turns into a groan of pain and his hand goes to his side. Jared reaches out instinctively, stops just short of touching Tim and he's not sure where the urge to comfort came from. He knows he wants Tim not to be hurting and he grinds his teeth because he can't do anything about it.

Can't do much, or change much about any of it and he hates being this helpless, not something he's ever gonna get used to. At least the wolf doesn't want to kill and eat him, and it eases some of the worry clinging to his conscious mind. If Tim stays he doesn't want to have to chain him in the basement twice a week, not least because they don't have a basement. There's so much more he wants to know. Tim's giving him answers and that's more than yesterday but...Tim's a werewolf. That one fact is tripping Jared up every third thought, so it's probably best if he doesn't demand everything right now, because there's fuck all chance of him taking in the details.

He's still worried about Tim up and leaving, but he's made no moves in that direction so far. Tim staying in the one place is good, helps, lets Jared focus on everything else, fucking werewolves for a start. Never mind they're fucking real...he's in bed with one. Jared likes wolves, fuck they have a shirt with a wolf's head on it, but he's never thought about being in a relationship with one. Never thought he'd have to think about it, either.

"Why aren't you running away from me right now?" Tim's voice is quiet and soft, incredulous maybe, like he really didn't ever imagine anyone not running after finding out.

Jared realizes this is a conversation Tim probably never expected to have. Except for the brief indecision before going to Tim when he was lying helpless in the yard, running hasn't crossed his mind in any kind of serious way. Freaking out, wanting to scream, shake Tim for information, wanting to close his eyes and wish everything away, yeah, all of it, but running? No. It's Tim, why would he run?

Maybe he should've done more to make Tim aware of that before now. He's still trying to get his head around how they're going to deal with this because telling Tim to fuck off hasn't been a realistic option in hours. That's...kind of epic in itself given his track record with relationships, and maybe if it wasn't eclipsed by how epic everything else is, it'd have more impact.

He half smiles and bites his lip, "Dude, you were holding me so tight I couldn't get out of bed never mind run anywhere."

Tim flinches a little, looks away again and Jared can see him pulling back and closing down. Ok, so, don't remind Tim of his superhuman strength; soon as Jared gets a chance he's writing a fucking list, 'Dealing with Werewolves 101'...yeah, he should probably not say that out loud.

He struggles for a sensible answer, something true and something Tim will believe, needs to keep him talking. "It's...I don't know why?" Possibly not his best answer ever but at least it's the truth.

Jared rests his hand on Tim's arm, touch steady and constant and hopes it works to drag Tim's attention back. "I've known you for years, you've never hurt me...not physically."

He could make Tim feel like shit for yesterday, knows he could but that's not gonna help either of them right now.

"I'm not about to give up on you and start hating you for something you can't...not something this...big." He stops to catch his breath, swallows but it doesn't help the way his voice rasps, belatedly realizing he's terrified of the answer, but trusting Tim's gonna be honest with him. "Should I be running?"

"I...don't know. No one's stayed long enough to ask before, let alone..." Tim laughs as he trails off but its a bitter sound, laughing at memories, maybe, "Not that there's a whole hell of a lot of people who've found out, or I told, ever. "

Jared knows there's a story there, probably more than one, and he wants to push a whole hell of a lot. He has time though, he has to believe he has time and he doesn't need to know everything all at once. Tim's being pathetic without trying to, but there's more in what Tim's not saying, what's implied and hinted. Makes him feel protective and possessive and that's...new, fuck-load better than anything else he's been feeling so he goes with it. How many people have found out and run like hell, hated Tim, taken it out on him and...crosses his mind that it'd be really easy to call Tim a freak of nature and be done with it. He'd put money on the fact that at least one of Tim's exes has, and probably worse, judging by Tim's expression.

He's almost grateful for the drug-daze, almost grateful that the last thirty-odd hours have been so unbelievable that he's willing to believe just about anything that makes even the tiniest bit of sense and he has proof. He's not one hundred percent sure what his first reaction would have been otherwise.

He's been quiet too long, "Not running." He's talking to himself as much as Tim, confirming what's going in his head. He doesn't want Tim gone, doesn't want to be anywhere else than where they are right now. The decision's already made, it's been made for a while, and he's ready to say it out loud, "Don't want you to run, either."

Tim shakes his head, "It's for the best. Not gonna keep making you a target, risk another wolf getting too curious, too close."

He's answering questions Jared hasn't asked, like he can read Jared's mind and he wonders how much of what he's thinking is playing out on his face. Probably a lot because it feels like all of his normal defenses have been worn away by the last few days.

"That's what happened last night, right? Some kind of...dominance thing, marking, protecting your territory or whatever the fuck you wanna call it." He's thought about this, put everything he knows about...Tim, wolves, the freaking spider chart, and that right there, is the only thing that makes sense.

Tim narrows his eyes as he looks at Jared, "You really don't give up do you?

He gives a one-shouldered shrug, shouldn't be any kind of fucking surprise, "Am I right?"

"It's..." Tim cringes, expression pained, "Not quite right, but, essentially, yeah."

"Why?"

"Huh?" Tim's looking at him again, back to looking half afraid.

"Why? Why me? What, m'like catnip for you guys or something?" It's a conscious effort to keep his tone light and amused.

"I...no." He smiles quickly at Jared but it doesn't last, "Meant it earlier, s'my fault."

Jared watches him fiddle with the sheet as he waits for an explanation. Tim said that already, but Jared wants to know how it's all his fault, because it's one of the few things that he really has no explanation for. "So what happened?"

"We fought, he's...gone."

"Gone?"

"Gone, dead, dying...I don't know, but gone."

Jared swallows, couldn't feel anything for some nameless, faceless...wolf, but Tim, death battles. Tim could've died and how would he explain that? 'Sorry, Shannon, all I have left of Tim is this bag of bloody body bits...we may need to audition for a new touring bassist.' Fuck, his life isn't just a horror movie, it's a really bad eighties B horror movie. "I still don't...what, did you send him an invitation to the werewolves tea party? Why was he even here?" Good to know that one of his shock responses is inappropriate humor, that actually explains a lot.

Tim bit his lip, "It's me. I...you smell like me, the bus smells like me, your house smells like me because I can't fucking stay away, they get...curious about that, more curious than they would be, anyway."

Either he's getting better at functioning with a drug-hangover, or the remnants have been shocked out of his system by his last freak out, because Jared's mind is already firing off conclusions, assumptions, "So they get close. Try to figure out...what? What I am? Why I smell of you? Because if that's not it, I got nothing but the catnip theory."

Tim looks like he'd rather be having an appendectomy without anesthetic, "I...s'hard to explain."

"So try...I'm still here, aren't I?"

Tim sucks a breath in between his teeth, looking everywhere but at Jared. Could be worse, Tim's here not looking at him, and not somewhere else. "It's...we...don't...live near people, with people." Tim doesn't sound sure about that, and Jared wonders who he's trying to convince.

He's back to the making no sense, because everything Tim just said is fucking bullshit as far as Jared's concerned, he tries to keep that out of his voice as much as he can. "But, you do, bus ain't exactly spacious...you ain't a normal werewolf, that what you're saying?" And yeah, 'normal werewolf', that's never going to sound right in his head.

Tim smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes, "I guess. Longer to learn to get used to it, deal with it, train myself to...fuck, just not let it take over everything. S'easier to let go, give in, y'know? Got told once that I was fucking lucky to be alive after...that most don't survive or, fuck―" Laughs and shakes his head, "―don't live long even if they do survive, not as young as I was, especially, fuck knows how much truth was in it, guy―wolf―who told me was so far gone, surprised he even remembered how to speak. More wolf than human. Most can't...can't grasp the concept that we can live with... "

"Humans."

"I...yeah."

"And you got territorial, protecting me." Feels a smile tug at his lips and wants to make a smart-ass remark about Tim defending his honor, but it's probably too soon for that. Something else is nagging at his mind too, Tim being...fuck, he doesn't even know how werewolves are made, but however it goes, Tim went through it young. Makes sense, in hindsight. Tim doesn't talk about his childhood, not past―Jared wracks his memory for the few things Tim has let slip― "Fuck. You never talk about anything after your―"

"Don't go there, Jared." There's a hint of threat in Tim's voice, but it softens almost immediately, "Not today. Not now."

Fuck. Tim must've been eleven. Barely that, if at all, if Jared's right. Fucking fuck. Right, too painful to talk about and if Tim's told anyone, Jared'll be surprised. He clings onto the 'not now', because it implies that there's going to be a 'later'. A future. Tim not leaving. "Yeah, sorry. So...living with people, working, is unusual. Got it. Did they...while we were on tour―"

"Handful of times." Tim shrugs, as much as he's able to lying on his side, "Easier out there. More people, more confusing with the scents, not staying in the same place longer'n a day and it's...wasn't your home."

Yeah, Jared agrees whole-heartedly with that last. So what...a handful of times means less than five, less than ten for sure. They've been on the road for the best part of a year, so he has to assume there's more risk of crossing paths when they're moving around, across states, fuck...across continents, but that doesn't mean he has to like it.

Jared chews his bottom lip, trying to phrase what he wants to say into something that'll make sense outside of his head, get across what he actually wants to know, "Is it, I mean, the fighting, others and that, have you always had to...deal with them?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

Ok, that he can work with. Maybe. "No way to stop it?"

Tim laughs, sounds almost shocked out of him, harsh and short, "Government labs, maybe. Fucked up zoos for half-human freaks and horror movie monsters."

"I'm not gonna―"

"I know. It's just the way it is, way it's always been. Can't fix this, Jared."

"S'always gonna happen," he mutters, and as much as he hates it, part of him is also...glad. No, not really glad, twisted as fuck, but it at least means that it's not going to be any better for Tim to leave. No worse if he stays, either.

He vocalizes that thought and watches first confusion and then understanding in Tim's face.

"I guess but―"

"Then there's no reason for you to leave," he says decisively, fingers curling over Tim's forearm again. Skin's still just a degree or two warmer than he should be, and Jared wonders if Tim's always been this warm and he's just noticing it now because he has reason to.

"Don't do this," Tim's voice is flat, no inflection at all.

"Do what? Touch you?" He tightens his grip in case Tim's planning on pulling away from him. Feels the way the tendons in Tim's arm tense and Jared moves his thumb in circles, light and trying to be comforting, silently begging Tim not to pull away, not toss him aside like he did yesterday.

Tim's eyes close, and his expression...in pain, is the best Jared can come up with and he's got a damn good idea that he's the cause but he's not stopping. Not dropping it.

"Give me hope. Can't ever happen and you're making it worse."

That hurts, hearing Tim say it, voice cracking and breaking like it hurts, but it gives him an idea of how Tim feels about him. He might not understand wolf logic, but Tim logic is something he's familiar with, and if not for everything else, it'd be terrifying in it's intensity. Jared swallows and licks his lips, "What happens if you stay, if we...if it's not just sex anymore?"

Tim's eyes go wide and he searches Jared's face before he answers, "No. Can't do that, just...fuck, no." Rushed, firm, but Jared's in no mood to listen.

"So what? We don't even try?" Yeah, and he's in no mood to try keep the 'what the fuck' out of his voice, either.

"We did try...that's the whole fucking problem."

Jared shakes his head, nu-uh, no one told him they were trying so it doesn't count, "No, we got each other off on tour and didn't let it go beyond that, wasn't even trying to try."

"Jared―" Hard edge to Tim's voice and Jared can feel the reins on his own temper snapping.

"No, I'm not a fucking idiot, I know there's a shit load of things we need to talk about, things I'm gonna need to know, but I meant what I said yesterday. I missed you so fucking much and you were right there. So whatever happens, or doesn't happen, you can't leave without fucking trying or telling me you don't want me and fucking meaning it." And god, he hopes to fuck that Tim won't―can't―do the last because he's got an inkling that it'll take him a good long while to put himself back together.

"Really? You missed me? Or you were scared and alone and would've taken what you could get from anyone?" Tim's tone is harsh, cuts deep and stings like salt, because he's so fucking wrong.

"I'd―"

"I'd fucking kill for you, that clear enough?" Tim's twists them around without Jared even seeing him move, faster than he should be able to move considering. He's pushed himself up onto his elbows and he's got a hand on Jared's chest, holding him down and staring at Jared with cold eyes that seem to plead with him to understand.

Tim's words are a rumbled growl of sound that are somehow making sense. Jared shudders, suddenly cold because it's a little too much like how he imagined the things that wait for him in the dark, in his nightmares, sound. "I'd kill for you at even the slightest threat and I'd fucking enjoy it, I can't ask you―"

"You're not fucking asking, I'm telling." Takes everything he has to keep his tone firm, assertive, when he's so blatantly being held in a submissive position. "You don't get to tell me what I want, I'm choosing. You can leave right now, can walk away but don't do it because you think that's what's best for me."

The flecks of yellow are back in Tim's eyes, polluting the blue, and his expression is damn near unreadable, "You're afraid of me."

"I―"

Tim cuts him off before he's even begun to formulate a response, "Can smell it on you."

Right. Well, fuck. Licks his lips and swallows past the lump in his throat, wondering why he's even surprised when he can feel the cold sweat on his skin, sticking the sheets to him more than the damp.

"You're not gonna hurt me." It's harder than it should be to get the words out, even though he knows it's the truth. Yeah, he's scared, but not for the reasons Tim thinks he is. Scared of him leaving, scared because this is fucking huge, scared of all the unknowns that are hanging between them, yeah, all of those, but he's not scared of Tim hurting him, at least not physically. Scrapes together as much of his usual confidence as he can, forcing himself to keep eye contact with Tim as he speaks, trying to lighten the tone because if he doesn't, Tim might just scare him yet, "Not gonna turn furry on me in bed, are you?"

Whatever Tim's expecting him to say, that probably isn't it. Fuck that, Jared's half way shocked at himself, although maybe not for the same reasons. He's slightly disturbed that the possibility should bother him a whole lot more than it actually does. It bothers him enough to check, which has to count for something. The whole idea is so fucked up and beyond fictional that the full weight of it hasn't sunk in yet. At least, that's what he tells himself. Small comfort but he's taking whatever he can.

Tim looks horrified at the question, which is slightly more comforting, "God no, I would never―get rough maybe, could hurt you without meaning to which is―"

"Don't have a problem with rough...don't have a problem with saying it's too rough, either, although that'd be another first." There's a flicker of heat low in his belly as he almost unconsciously thinks about the implications. Not right now, it's too soon and worst possible moment, but later. Later, that thought needs one hell of a lot of scrutinizing.

"J―"

"No, you do not get to use this as an excuse. If you don't want me, can't deal with me, then you fucking say it, but this...not saying it doesn't matter, but it sure as fuck isn't cutting it as a reason to walk away if you don't want to."

Tim sighs, grits his teeth hard enough that it's actually visible, and Jared can see the restraint, the way he's holding something back, "And if I can't stop...fuck, call it what it is; stalking you, what then?"

"You or the wolf?" he shoots back, knowing exactly what Tim means and what he's asking, but he's playing dumb because the line between wolf and man―if there even is one―confuses the hell out of him. And if they're...if they're going to do this, he should probably have some idea of what he's getting into.

"Ain't a whole lot of difference when it comes right down to it but it'll take too long to even try to put it into actual words and even then...fuck, also doesn't change the fact that you're avoiding the question."

He drags in a breath, unsure but he needs to answer the desperate look in Tim's eyes. "Least I'll know it's you. Don't think it'll be quite so...scary-bad." Still freaky as fuck, though, and he's sort of been thinking that maybe..."Thought it was because you wanted to be close to me, if we were..." He trails off because he doesn't know what to say to make this ok, or what to say without digging himself into a huge hole that he can't dig his way out of. But if he and Tim were closer already, together more, then maybe the wolf wouldn't need him so much.

"See? It's fucked up. I can't even tell you if it's gonna stop and you shouldn't have to deal with it in the first place." Tim pauses, glancing away for the first time, disappointment and resignation are easy to read on his face, "Why the fuck would you want anything to do with someone who's fucking stalking you most nights?"

Ok. It's gonna take some getting used to when Tim puts it like that. Can he deal with that? Worst case scenario, nothing changes and the nights of feeling watched stretch out in front of him, fear of the unknown replaced with knowing that it's Tim. Furry, four-legged and capable of snapping him in two with one bite, but still Tim. He's put up with it so far but...he knows he's really banking on the fact that that it'll be easier, better now that he knows. That maybe Tim won't feel the need to do it quite so often.

It takes him two false starts before he manages to get a whole sentence out, "I don't have all the answers. Not making any promises that it'll work, that I'll be able to deal but I know that if you walk out, I'm gonna regret not fighting harder for you to stay. Regret not trying. And you...you're a―" tapers off and waves his hand in Tim's direction, "So you're just gonna stop trying? Gonna walk away when I'm right here and I―" stumbles over what he means to say, and is in danger of saying. "I wanna give this a shot. Not like the others, not running away."

Tim's looking at him like he's well and truly lost it. Maybe he has. Jared doesn't care, and even if he has lost it, he's been through enough that sanity is probably optional at this stage. It's cliche as hell but the threat of losing Tim completely has made him realize exactly how big a part of his life Tim has become. Unobtrusive for the most part, constant and comforting, cutting off a limb would hurt less than not having Tim around in some way, shape or form. Maybe he's selfish for doing this, thinking of himself more than Tim. Maybe it'll all blow up in their faces, but he's got to try. He knows he'll regret it if he lets Tim go without a fight and he's too damn old to start having new regrets.

As for Tim...he doesn't know, isn't a whole lot Jared has to offer him other than a chance of it working out. Fuck, Jared knows he sucks at relationships at the best of times, but it's still gotta be better than up and leaving anytime someone―anyone by the sounds of it―gets too close.

Tim's silent, still looking at him although there's something knowing in his gaze this time, like he can see every one of Jared's thoughts. It's uncomfortable as fuck, and if he didn't already have a month's worth of questions, he'd be wracking his brain for something to say. As it is, it's more a case of deciding which question he wants to ask first. "I won't have to become...like you, will I?"

Shake of Tim's head and the relief is instantaneous. Jared's not sure what his feelings are on that but definitely not now is clear.

"So. You're staying." It's meant to be a question, but sort of fails after the first syllable and turns into a statement.

"Jesus, Jared. You've got to be kidding," Tim says, wiping his hand over his face.

"What's so ridiculous about it?"

"It...I...just fucking everything."

"I want you," he says slowly, reaching up to trail his curled fingers across Tim's cheek. There's still a few remaining lighter flecks in Tim's eyes, but they're mostly human-blue, "Know this is...beyond ridiculous, but if it means...the both of you, then we'll find a way to deal, but I want this. Want you."

His heart feels like it's in his throat as he searches Tim's face for a reaction, and time stretches thin as he waits. Tim looks...stunned maybe, before rolling to the side onto his back and breathing heavily.

He's silent for so long that Jared's not sure if he's even going to answer at all. "Tim?"

"You're fucking crazy, you know that, right?" Tim says quietly.

Jared shrugs, "Yeah, I am. And you're a werewolf. We couldn't be more perfect for each other."

"I...Fuck. C'mere."

Doesn't need asking twice, not when Tim's pulling him closer. Jared rolls closer, closes his eyes against Tim's chest and it's just right. The worst thing he feels is mild confusion because it doesn't feel wrong, or scary, or like he's taking any kind of risk. He shifts higher to press his lips to Tim's neck and stays there, soaking in his heat and breathing in his smell. He doesn't want to do anything except enjoy the sudden peace in his head and the comfort offered.

"You're staying," he breathes, pressing closer, and maybe if he keeps saying it, it'll be true.

"For now. Not...gonna run without telling you, how's that? Never done this before...never thought anyone would..." Tim trails off, and yeah, Jared kind of figured as much.

Jared doesn't know how much time passes, how long he spends just pressed against Tim and enjoying the fact that Tim's not leaving him.

"You need to sleep." Tim's hand hovers over his waist, like he's not sure what to do with it, not sure what he's allowed to do with it.

"Don't wanna. Slept enough already, thanks to you." And this is good, he wants this.

"I'm―"

"Don't. Got an idea of why you did it. Don't need to hear you apologize." He would've been too much of a distraction, Tim might've been hurt worse if he'd been worrying about keeping Jared safe, out of the way, and fighting another werewolf. Jared knows he wouldn't have been able to stay back, either, if there was any way he thought he could help, and that had potential throat ripped out bloody painful death written all over it.

Tim's chest rises a little higher, deep breath and holding it. Likely biting back the apology he still wants to give. "Still need to sleep 'em off."

He presses closer still and mumbles a no.

"Said I'm staying, ok? You're still crazy."

"S'hardly news," He pauses and there's a lull in the half a conversation they're having. Jared coughs before taking a breath and, "Dunno what's gonna happen tomorrow, or the next day but I know I want you now and I don't want you to leave. Long as you don't...eat Shannon, or even bits of him." Having to pick between Shannon and Tim...he knows the answer, doesn't mean it won't hurt like fuck so he needs to make sure it never comes to that.

"Pretty sure Shannon'll be kicking my ass for touching you, never mind...the rest." Tim doesn't exactly sound worried about it, though.

Maybe Shannon's 'pack', too, he likes that idea...of course, then they're going to get into who's the pack leader; Shannon won't take kindly to finding out it's not him. Too bad, werewolf kinda wins by default, although fuck knows if...how Tim―or Tim's wolf―even views 'pack'. It probably doesn't matter, he decides. Question for another day maybe. "Don't think that's why he'll be kicking your ass; seen what you did to the yard yet?"

Tim winces, "Can imagine...what're you gonna to tell him?"

"Not thought about it...how long does landscape gardening take anyway?" He really is going to need to come up with a fuck of a good explanation, and then lie his ass off because Shannon's too fucking perceptive when it comes to Jared.

"Gotta be more than a day...we could hire someone to start...say the first one fucked it all up, blame the mess on them...the fuck does Shannon know about gardening, just shrug and pretend it's normal?"

That's almost...that might just fucking work, "Worth a shot." Jared's hand drifts down Tim's side and back up. He's waiting for Tim to stop him, expecting it almost and when he doesn't, Jared carries on, keeps stroking, petting almost.

Jared senses indecision, and fear maybe, from Tim and he looks up to meet Tim's searching gaze. Then Tim's touching back, fingers moving down Jared's spine towards his ass.

Jared leans in and closes his eyes. Presses their lips together, no movement, nothing but the reconnection, before opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. Tim's everything he wants and he wants to know how long they can make this last.

He pulls away from Tim's mouth, hand on Tim's chest and kisses his jaw, "You still taste like meat." Lets his teeth scrape, he's not big on the caring about how Tim tastes, but he knows where Tim's mouth has been...so yeah.

Tim's cheeks turn pink, it's sort of adorable if Jared can forget about him being part lupine. "Sorry, I―"

"Yeah, yeah I know, ate some guy's face protecting my ass, doesn't change how you taste." He sits up and holds out his hand, pulls Tim up with him, "Can use my toothbrush"

Tim nods.

"You're not off the hook yet. So gonna make you pay for drugging me and knocking me out." They're not done, not by a long shot but he knows Tim's not lying, he's got nothing to lie about any more and that's good enough for now.

* * *

Jared follows Tim into the bathroom and watches as he finishes brushing his teeth. He slides his arms around Tim's waist from behind while he swirls water in his mouth and he's close enough to rock his hips against Tim's ass. "Wanna go back to bed?" Jared licks the back of Tim's neck.

Tim turns around in Jared's arms and reaches up, hand light on Jared's throat. He's...fuck, Tim's not even holding him tight and Jared knows he's gonna do whatever Tim wants him to do. Firm pressure on his lips and 'yeah' murmured into his mouth.

He takes Tim's hand and leads them to his room this time, clean bed and dry sheets, he'll worry about the laundry some other time. As soon as they're past the threshold, Jared's fucked up nervous all over again, like it's the first time or he's doing something he shouldn't be. Goddamn, could his brain just turn the fuck off and leave him alone? He doesn't know if it's obvious or if Tim's just that smart but he twists them around and sits on the bed first, lying back and pulling Jared with him. Jared's kind of glad for that, it means he doesn't need to think about how they're gonna get there because they already are.

Tim's got one arm around Jared's waist and he opens his legs a little wider so Jared can settle between them. He pushes Jared's hair out of his eyes with his other hand, "Did I hurt you...before?"

He means physically, Jared knows he does. No, Tim wasn't too rough in any way Jared didn't want, but, "You nearly fucking broke me, leaving the way you did." He doesn't mind admitting that, now that they're sharing secrets. "Felt like you hated me."

Tim opens his mouth―

"Don't say you're sorry," Doesn't want to hear it, doesn't want to stop kissing Tim either and he's sneaking kisses between sentences, "Tired of hearing you apologise. Just do something about it because it hurt like fuck, and I need you to make it go away." It's the most he's said about how bad Tim made him feel, doesn't need to say anymore, Tim either gets it or he doesn't.

Tim's hands are gentle as he pulls Jared closer and kisses his face, across his cheek bones, his nose, eyelids. He squeezes Jared's waist when he finally claims his mouth and fuck, yeah, Jared could do this all day. That they actually have all day hits him suddenly, and he moans into Tim's mouth. Presses every inch of himself closer and pours everything into kissing Tim back, hurt and want and need you now.

Heat flushes through him at the way Tim's hips move against his, there's no maybe about it, this is exactly where he wants to be. It's easy to forget there's another side to Tim if he can have this, nothing between them but heat and want.

Jared's arching into every one of Tim's touches and the kissing is so addictively fucking new he can't get enough. Holding Tim tight, Tim holding him tight makes it easy to forget what Tim is, what he's done and the only reason he's getting away with the fucked up stalking is because he's apparently part-dog.

It feels like they're making up for lost time with the kissing and touching, none of the desperation from yesterday, just hands and tongues. Languid and lazy and testing the different ways they fit together.

"First time we've been in an actual bed." It's almost a gasp and Jared didn't expect this, didn't expect to be so wrapped up, fucking lost from nothing but kisses.

"Yeah...the fuck is that about?" Tim hardly stops kissing him long enough to speak but Jared's ok with that.

"S'about both of us being commitmentphobic assholes." He resettles and rocks his hips against Tim's.

"You're way worse than me." Tim's hand is on Jared's ass and encouraging the slow, steady and fucking addictive rocking.

"The hell I am, you don't even have a permanent job." Nu-uh...as distraction techniques go, Tim's good...but Jared's better.

"And that's completely my fault, right?"

So not having that discussion now, not when there could be kissing instead, "Thirty Seconds to Mars, equal opportunities for fucking demi-humans, Braxton ain't like a...leprechaun or something...is he?"

"I dunno...he's kinda short." There's a smile in Tim's eyes and he kisses Jared before he can think of what he's going to say next, probably just as well.

Tim's fingers clench on his ass, teeth scrape along his jaw and down to his neck, over the aching bruise from yesterday. He goes with it, tilts his head and moans softly, half hoping that Tim does what he's hinting at, bites down and darkens the already fading bruise.

He cards his fingers through Tim's hair, pulling him closer as he keeps flexing hips, following Tim's steady rhythm.

Tim nips at Jared's earlobe with a growl, "Goddamn...so fucking amazing."

He made the right choice, Jared knows he did. Might not be able to see the future but all that really matters is right here, right now, and the way Tim tastes and feels, in his mouth, under his hands. It's worth any kind of sacrifice to feel like this, and know he can have it again and again, whenever he wants, because Tim's his and he's staying.

* * *

His head is heavy where he rests it on his paws and he blinks, longer each time. Sated and content.

Wolf's just beneath surface and he's pleased. It's the way it should be, what he wanted from the beginning. Humans always over-complicate everything. He can sleep now. Curled up, smelling of sex and Jared.

Finis