lycanthropelahey:

iamthefirechild:

She grinned wholeheartedly. “No leash? No doggie bed on the floor? Chew toys?” She ducked her head into his shoulder. “So this is why you can just pick me up? Healing, and pain-taking, and strength, and what else?”

He nodded and rested his head on top of hers, pressing a soft kiss to her hair and inhaling her scent. “None of that, no.” He laughed aloud and wrapped his arms around her, watching that he didn’t snag her clothes on his claws. “Heightened sense of smell, sight and speed too.”

Her gaze flicked over to one of the bookshelves for a second. “Why do I feel like this relationship has turned completely unfair? I can’t outrun you, I can’t sneak past you, I’ll never be able to win a tickle fight, your bite is meaner than mine … woe.” She put on the saddest, silliest pouting face. “I can’t even wear perfume anymore.” With a little shove, she said, “Okay, you can shift back, I can’t kiss you like that.”

lycanthropelahey:

iamthefirechild:

He looked so /strange/ as a werewolf. Yet it was just looks. She lifted a hand to brush the fur on his face, touched the heavy brow ridge, slid a fingertip over his mouth. The fangs — she wasn’t sure about the fangs. Or — she glanced down — the claws.

“Your eyes are so beautiful,” she whispered, hardly aware of what she was saying. She hesitated to kiss him in this form; he wouldn’t /want/ to hurt her but how did you kiss someone with a mouthful of fangs anyway? It wasn’t frightening, but she wasn’t sure how she felt about all of it. Then a sly smile quirked her mouth. “So how do you feel about baths in this form? Or sticks?”

Nobody had ever touched him with such tenderness in the form, and he had grown to expect pain and suffering outside of his pack, but this was wonderful and it the contact calmed him instantly. He stilled then and allowed her to explore to her heart’s content, a blush stealing over his lupine features at the praise.

He barked out a laugh then and he rolled his eyes, curling into the touch as he eyed her playfully. “I still love baths, and don’t even try to throw a stick for me, I’m warning you!”

She grinned wholeheartedly. “No leash? No doggie bed on the floor? Chew toys?” She ducked her head into his shoulder. “So this is why you can just pick me up? Healing, and pain-taking, and strength, and what else?”

lycanthropelahey:

iamthefirechild:

Summer turned her head quick enough to catch the edge of his mouth, mischievously. “Do you turn all the way into a wolf? I didn’t see anyone like that.” Or any eyes close enough to the ground to be a four-legged shape. “I don’t know how Helios would feel about an actual wolf in here. Maybe just the way you were then?”

“I’ve never tried,” he stated simply, not knowing whether or not it was actually possible, for he’d never seen it happen. Nuzzling their noses together and then laughing softly, he wondered whether Helios would be offended by his presence then. “Alright…just don’t get spooked out, okay?” he murmured and slowly allowed his eyes to flash golden, his face shifting as his nails lengthened.

He looked so /strange/ as a werewolf. Yet it was just looks. She lifted a hand to brush the fur on his face, touched the heavy brow ridge, slid a fingertip over his mouth. The fangs — she wasn’t sure about the fangs. Or — she glanced down — the claws.

“Your eyes are so beautiful,” she whispered, hardly aware of what she was saying. She hesitated to kiss him in this form; he wouldn’t /want/ to hurt her but how did you kiss someone with a mouthful of fangs anyway? It wasn’t frightening, but she wasn’t sure how she felt about all of it. Then a sly smile quirked her mouth. “So how do you feel about baths in this form? Or sticks?”

lycanthropelahey:

iamthefirechild:

The first thing that came to mind was, “But you don’t like to be touched.” Then she winced. It sounded awful, put that way. There was so much pain, so many complex emotions surrounding everything that related to his being … a werewolf. But he had said she could ask … she didn’t know what else to ask. First. So many questions!

And things she should probably tell him. An image flickered through her mind — if he threatened to hurt one of his own pack for hurting her, what would he do to a mundane? Jesse. She would have to be extra vigilant. Keep them apart. It shouldn’t be hard. Right?

“If I really trust the person, I don’t mind it. With you, and Derek because he’s my Alpha, and even Scott, it’s different.” He smiled in understanding, knowing that she had a lot of new information to process and work through, and that she would have a lot of questions as a result of it.

“Do you still want to see me transform again? It can be freaky, but I promise that I would never hurt you, okay? You have my word.” He leaned in to tenderly kiss her on the cheek, awaiting her reply.

Summer turned her head quick enough to catch the edge of his mouth, mischievously. “Do you turn all the way into a wolf? I didn’t see anyone like that.” Or any eyes close enough to the ground to be a four-legged shape. “I don’t know how Helios would feel about an actual wolf in here. Maybe just the way you were then?”

lycanthropelahey:

iamthefirechild:

“H-how did you — ?” The pain just … went away. Not instant, the way it would if she could doing painblocking for herself, but seeping away, the way water drained from a bathtub. She stared at her ankle, then at his arm. She could /see/ badness running under his skin. “But — that looks like it hurts. And, and — did you heal it? Can I, should I walk on it again? I didn’t know werewolves could do healing … what else can you do?” She realised she was starting to babble with shock, and closed her mouth.

Too much, all at once. It was overwhelming. She looked down at her hands, which didn’t hurt any more either, and saw the trailing edge of one of the roughened patches of skin. Not healed. “And you say I’m amazing.”

“I took your pain away,” he stated simply, not wanting to go into too much for he doubted that she would like to know the in-depth details, how the pain was now inside his own body but luckily, his fast healing powers vanished it within moments. He could sympathise with her more though, for he knew how she’d been feeling just moments before.

“A few things, but that’s the biggest pro. We get hurt a lot, so it’s amazing to be able to do that,” he murmured and gazed downwards, taking her hand and repeating the process, hoping that he wouldn’t end up draining away his own energy.

The first thing that came to mind was, “But you don’t like to be touched.” Then she winced. It sounded awful, put that way. There was so much pain, so many complex emotions surrounding everything that related to his being … a werewolf. But he had said she could ask … she didn’t know what else to ask. First. So many questions!

And things she should probably tell him. An image flickered through her mind — if he threatened to hurt one of his own pack for hurting her, what would he do to a mundane? Jesse. She would have to be extra vigilant. Keep them apart. It shouldn’t be hard. Right?

lycanthropelahey:

iamthefirechild:

“Shhh,” she whispered. “He frightened me. But it’s okay. It’s okay now.” How was it she was talking him down from — “It’s pack, right? The word. For all of you together. How many of you are there? Can you — there’s so much I want to know, but if you don’t want to … ” She twisted to look at her ankle. “You could help me ice my ankle? Instead?”

“I’m never quite sure. I mean, there’s a few wolves, but there’s some humans too, like Stiles and Lydia…and you too, if you wanted to?” he murmured shyly and then slowly splayed his hand across her ankle, smiling tenderly. “I have a better idea – watch this,” he murmured as the veins in his arms blackened and he took the pain from her. “And whatever you want to know, just ask me, okay?”

“H-how did you — ?” The pain just … went away. Not instant, the way it would if she could doing painblocking for herself, but seeping away, the way water drained from a bathtub. She stared at her ankle, then at his arm. She could /see/ badness running under his skin. “But — that looks like it hurts. And, and — did you heal it? Can I, should I walk on it again? I didn’t know werewolves could do healing … what else can you do?” She realised she was starting to babble with shock, and closed her mouth.

Too much, all at once. It was overwhelming. She looked down at her hands, which didn’t hurt any more either, and saw the trailing edge of one of the roughened patches of skin. Not healed. “And you say I’m amazing.”

lycanthropelahey:

iamthefirechild:

She tried to imagine someone — her father, her mother — throwing a glass at her. Something worse than being smacked.

She couldn’t. She couldn’t get her mind around the idea of being hurt on purpose by someone she trusted. But then, she cheated.

Summer made a small sound, struggling with words, then just reached up and kissed him. “It’s past,” she managed.

“I was so scared – every day and I just…I needed something to…to protect myself if it ever got too bad, you know?” He whispered then, as if he was desperately pleading for her to understand his reasons.

He jumped and then melted into the kiss, tears filling his eyes as he pressed their foreheads together. “Were you scared? If he had hurt you, I would’ve ripped him apart for you, Summer, and that’s a promise.”

“Shhh,” she whispered. “He frightened me. But it’s okay. It’s okay now.” How was it she was talking him down from — “It’s pack, right? The word. For all of you together. How many of you are there? Can you — there’s so much I want to know, but if you don’t want to … ” She twisted to look at her ankle. “You could help me ice my ankle? Instead?”

lycanthropelahey:

iamthefirechild:

He said ‘don’t interrupt’, but when he stopped, she didn’t know what to say. She just looked at him, eyes searching his face. She wasn’t even sure what she was looking for.

Finally, slowly, she said, “You wanted to be able to protect yourself. And — you didn’t kill him. Your dad.” She wasn’t even sure what he wanted her /to/ say.

“I wanted to, so many times,” he stated without shame, although he did avert his eyes and fidget with the edges of a nearby cushion. “And the night that he died, we…we had a massive fight, and he threw a glass at me. I wanted so badly to hit back but then…I’d be just as bad as him, wouldn’t I? Anyway, he froze when my face healed and I just ran…next thing I knew, he was dead,” he added on then and shrugged helplessly, hoping that she wouldn’t view him as callous and indifferent.

She tried to imagine someone — her father, her mother — throwing a glass at her. Something worse than being smacked.

She couldn’t. She couldn’t get her mind around the idea of being hurt on purpose by someone she trusted. But then, she cheated.

Summer made a small sound, struggling with words, then just reached up and kissed him. “It’s past,” she managed.

lycanthropelahey:

iamthefirechild:

“Wasn’t going to hurt me my ass,” she grumbled under her breath. That person wanted her to run, one way or another, and he had fully intended to do whatever it took. But she wasn’t going to tell Isaac that.

Not right now.

She tugged and nudged until she could curl up against his side, putting her throbbing, twisted ankle on the couch. Then she looked up at him, and said softly, “I’m listening. I won’t yell.”

Wrapping his arms gently around her, Isaac took a series of deep, calming breaths, trying to find the right place at which to start his story. He hoped that she wouldn’t interrupt, for once he’d started, if he stopped, it would be rather difficult for him to regain momentum.

“Right…” He licked his lips and turned to face her, needing to watch the expressions play out on her face as he talked. “First of all…I asked for the bite. I know you’ll probably not understand that but…for as long as I could remember, I was never good enough. I was always too weak, too scared and I couldn’t fight back. And then, one night, something happened at the cemetery that dad had me work at – I know now that it was probably a wolf, but I fell into an open grave and Derek turned up. He knew, I think, what had been going on, and he turned me because I asked him. That next night…that next night, my dad was murdered…” He shook his head and stopped for the briefest of seconds, eyes locking with hers once again, “And they locked me up for it, but they couldn’t hold me. The rest of the pack busted me out and…I just don’t know what to say now. Are…will you say something, Summer?”

He said ‘don’t interrupt’, but when he stopped, she didn’t know what to say. She just looked at him, eyes searching his face. She wasn’t even sure what she was looking for.

Finally, slowly, she said, “You wanted to be able to protect yourself. And — you didn’t kill him. Your dad.” She wasn’t even sure what he wanted her /to/ say.

lycanthropelahey:

iamthefirechild:

She hissed between her teeth again as he pressed gently against the gauze, pressed the medical tape down. “It’s not your fault at all. Whoever that blue eyed person is, it’s his fault. I was just walking back to my car, minding my own business, when he freaking jumped out from behind that big pine tree and /growled/ at me, all fangs and glowing eyes. And then Derek jumped out at me! I didn’t even know you were there until you called my name.” She studied her hands, wounds warded behind white cotton.

Then Summer reached out and closed her hands carefully over his. “I want to know /everything/. I need to understand. And I — I want to see. What you look like. Like that. Again.” She held tight, not wanting him to pull away. Needing him to understand that she didn’t want to let go; she just wanted to /know/.

Hating the pained noises his touches were eliciting in her, Isaac forced himself to continue, fearing that an infection might set into her wounds if he wasn’t thorough enough. Sitting back once he was somewhat satisfied with the wrappings, he chewed on his bottom lip and heaved out a deep sigh, mentally taking note to have a word with the rest of the pack later on. “They…he shouldn’t have done that, Summer, I’m sorry. But once the Full Moon hits, our…our wolf side takes over and he wouldn’t have hurt you. I really think he was just seeing who you were?”

He hesitated then and trailed off, turning his hand over so that his fingers could curl around hers, breath hitching at the request. “I trust you to tell you, Summer. But you’ll have to let me talk, okay? You can wait until the end to yell at me or whatever, but you have to try and understand…or I can’t…I’ve never told anybody about this, okay?”

“Wasn’t going to hurt me my ass,” she grumbled under her breath. That person wanted her to run, one way or another, and he had fully intended to do whatever it took. But she wasn’t going to tell Isaac that.

Not right now.

She tugged and nudged until she could curl up against his side, putting her throbbing, twisted ankle on the couch. Then she looked up at him, and said softly, “I’m listening. I won’t yell.”