Prompt fill: Colbert/Fick, werewolf bond (Teen Wolf sort of AU thingy)noelia_gDecember 17 2011, 02:04:11 UTC
He’s out for a long while, it seems, because when he opens his eyes again, it’s morning. Early morning, probably, the sun’s barely up, but morning nonetheless. He blinks and looks around, grunting as he sits up. His side hurts like a motherfucker, the shirt is torn and black with dried blood.
He and Ray are going to have a few words about the concept of fun.
Again.
There are seven messages on his phone, all from Ray. It’s also close to seven am and if he wants to make the AP Math class first period he’d better fucking hurry.
“I’m alive,” he tells Ray once he picks up. “Where are you?”
“Run into fucking Sixta, he drove me home. You can pretty much picture the ensuing meltdown, courtesy of my mother. I’m grounded until eternity.”
“So, next Tuesday?”
“Pretty much. What about you?”
“I’m fine,” he cuts short. He is, after all. Whatever it was, his side doesn’t look as bad as when he first glanced at him. More like a scratch than an open wound, really. “Tell you the rest at school.”
“Okay. Hey, they did find the body after all. Ripped in half, can you imagine? They’re saying some animal did it.”
“Wolf?”
“Mountain lion.” You could easily hear the distaste in Ray’s voice at what he clearly thought was a cover up story.
“That’s great,” Brad tells him. “Try not to piss Sixta too much. Or Sheriff Ferrando.”
“They’re just prejudiced. Just because I once...”
“I’ll see you later, Ray,” he says and disconnects, pockets the cellphone and winces only slightly when he moves. That would mean probably not running home. Normally he would, but despite the injury looking almost fine, there is actually quite a lot of blood on the shirt. And on the ground.
He heads for the road, hoping to hitch a ride. Chances are slim, way out here at this time, but it seems like he has some luck left. It only takes three minutes of walking for a car to appear and start slowing down before Brad even manages to extend his hand.
The driver is a guy Brad’s age or a little younger, one Brad doesn’t recognise. He must be Brad’s age or a little younger because he’s driving, but he looks like he could just easily be fourteen. Well, his face, at least. He’s not built like he’s fourteen, not at all.
Prompt fill: Colbert/Fick, werewolf bond (Teen Wolf sort of AU thingy) part twonoelia_gDecember 17 2011, 02:04:46 UTC
“You okay?” he asks, concern mixed with some wariness at encountering a stranger in a bloody shirt.
“Yeah. Had a little tumble downhill while I was running,” he says, lying through his teeth, obviously. He’s pretty sure the guy doesn’t buy it, too, and that makes the lie easier. The guy’s eyes slide to Brad’s jeans and his heavy boots, the flashlight sticking out of his pocket. Not exactly a runner’s attire, Brad has to admit.
“Get in. Heading for the town?”
“Yeah, I’m regrettably late for school. Should probably go home and change first,” he adds, following the guy’s quick look at his shirt.
“I can’t imagine why,” he says, his mouth twitching slightly. Brad can’t help but shake his head at that, bite his tongue to hold back a smile. “I can give you a ride straight to school, actually. I’m pretty sure I’m going to be late as well, and after I’ve missed the first day yesterday, well.”
First day. That at least explained why Brad hadn’t seen him around before. And meant that he would again, in all probability. Which was a novel thought, Brad didn’t usually anticipate people hanging around, didn’t care either way. Still, the guy didn’t seem annoying at first sight, and that was a step up from most people.
And it’s been a good few minutes and he was yet to say something mindnumbingly stupid. Also a valuable characteristic.
“That still leaves us with the shirt conundrum,” he points out. In this state he’d end up in the school nurse’s office. Or, worse, in the principal’s. Better late than that.
“Back seat,” the guy says, emphasising with a quick nod of his head. Brad strains to reach, encountering a black bag. He has to undo the seatbelt to turn and open it, finding a change of clothes and a toiletries bag.
“White shirt is the clean one,” the guy says, pulling over at the gas station, right on the edge of town. Brad appreciates the forethought, he’d prefer not to do this in the school’s parking. “How’s your side?” he adds as Brad gets out of the car, hoisting the bag closer.
“Looks worse than it is,” he says, pulling off his shirt over his head. The movement hurts a little and he groans.
“The shirt looks like you’ve just about bled out, so yes, it must,” the guy says, hopping out of the car on his side and walking around to open the trunk. “Don’t put it on yet.”
“I bet you say it to all the girls,” Brad mutters dryly and shakes his head at himself. He’s not quite sure where that came from.
Prompt fill: Colbert/Fick, werewolf bond (Teen Wolf sort of AU thingy) part threenoelia_gDecember 17 2011, 02:05:18 UTC
“Only the mysterious ones, lost in the woods with blood all over them. Happens more often than you’d think, I’m apparently a damsel magnet,” he says, not missing a beat, his delivery dry and a little absent as he goes through the things in the trunk. “Here,” he says, fishing out a first aid kit.
“Don’t need it, really.”
“For my peace of mind, come on.” He reaches out to brush his fingers over Brad’s side, check the injury, clean away some of the dried blood. Brad shivers at the touch, especially when the fingers press a little harder, causing him to wince. “You were right, it’s better than it looks,” the guy says. “By the way,” he adds, looking up at Brad, the skin around his eyes crinkling a little, like he’s smiling, even though his mouth doesn’t move. “I’m Nate.”
“So, that warrants an introduction?” Brad asks, shaking his head mournfully. “You had to get to second base to give me your name?”
“Still didn’t get yours. Or are you waiting for the third?”
Brad laughs at that. Mostly at that, and a little at the tickling sensation when Nate presses a large gauze over his side and secures it firmly. “It’s Brad.”
“Nice to meet you, Brad,” Nate says, all politeness. He finishes the task at hand and straightens up, pausing before he glances at his watch. “Well, I think the first period is pretty much over, but we can still make the second.”
Brad’s pretty sure he was going to say something else, last moment change after hesitating, but he’s fine with that. After all, it could be questions. And he probably owes Nate answers, after Nate’s been nothing but helpful, but Brad doesn’t really know them himself, or isn’t sure what the fuck went on last night.
He tosses his bloody shirt into a trashcan and gets back inside the car, leaning back in his seat. “So, you’ve just moved here. I guess the question is, why on earth would you?”
Nate shrugs. “Do I detect a note of dislike for the town?”
“That would imply I give shit. But sure, let’s go with dislike.”
“My father’s job. We move quite a bit, go wherever he’s needed.”
It sounds like a straightforward answer. It doesn’t feel like one.
It’s not like Brad wants to know what Nate’s father does for the living, it’s not like he expected Nate to volunteer that information. They’re not four and in the kindergarten and trying to get all the info out breathlessly.
Prompt fill: Colbert/Fick, werewolf bond (Teen Wolf sort of AU thingy) part fournoelia_gDecember 17 2011, 02:05:59 UTC
Something’s still off. He feels, hears, pounding in his ears. Sounds like a heartbeat, hastened, but it’s not his own, he can feel that too, slow and steady. He bows his head a little and he wasn’t wrong, it does seem like it’s Nate’s fucking heartbeat he can hear, loud and clear. Can hear the hitch in his breath, too. Blood rushing in his veins. At least, that’s what he imagines it is, but he can confirm that by looking at Nate’s pulse point on his neck, the vein pulsing right in time.
He shouldn’t be able to hear all that, notice all that.
“Brad,” Nate says, loud. Too loud.
Brad snaps out of it, the noises fading into a quiet lull, still there but less noticeable. “Sorry. I spaced out there for a bit.”
“You sure you don’t want me to drive you home? Or maybe the hospital?”
“I’m fine.”
“Fine. Okay. But don’t blame me if you die of brain damage.”
Brad expected a little more of an argument, was actually steadying himself up for it. “That was easy.”
Nate smirks as he pulls over into the school’s parking lot. “Surprised me too, to be honest. I’m usually anything but easy,” he adds and turns the engine off, glancing at Brad for a second. “Well, that was an interesting morning, Brad. I suppose I’ll see you around.”
“It’s a small town. An even smaller school,” Brad nods and gets out, shutting the door. He leans right back in, looking through the window at Nate. “Hey. Thanks.”
“Glad to be of service,” Nate nods and that seems to be it, because he’s reaching for his cellphone. He still doesn’t look away and Brad’s reluctant to do so himself. “Anytime you need a ride.”
“Again, thanks.” He steps back, straightens up and loses the eye contact. His chest loosens a little, it is just that slightly easier to breath now. He turns on his heel and walks into the school, looking back only once, to see Nate get out of the car, talking on his cellphone.
Brad can make out every word of Nate explaining to someone that he just got to school, a little late but okay. He can hear the stern voice on the other side wondering what was that important.
From this distance, Brad shouldn’t be able to hear that. Shouldn’t be able to hear Nate, even. Something really fucking weird is going on, maybe he did hit his head a little harder than he thought. He’s never heard of brain damage causing someone’s hearing to improve, but who the fuck knew, brain was a strange thing.
Re: Prompt fill: Colbert/Fick, werewolf bond (Teen Wolf sort of AU thingy) part fourrositamiaDecember 19 2011, 22:20:05 UTC
Wow. Very nice. For a minute, I thought that Nate would be Derek. I squealed with glee when I realized Nate was Allison! OMG! I cannot wait to read more.
He and Ray are going to have a few words about the concept of fun.
Again.
There are seven messages on his phone, all from Ray. It’s also close to seven am and if he wants to make the AP Math class first period he’d better fucking hurry.
“I’m alive,” he tells Ray once he picks up. “Where are you?”
“Run into fucking Sixta, he drove me home. You can pretty much picture the ensuing meltdown, courtesy of my mother. I’m grounded until eternity.”
“So, next Tuesday?”
“Pretty much. What about you?”
“I’m fine,” he cuts short. He is, after all. Whatever it was, his side doesn’t look as bad as when he first glanced at him. More like a scratch than an open wound, really. “Tell you the rest at school.”
“Okay. Hey, they did find the body after all. Ripped in half, can you imagine? They’re saying some animal did it.”
“Wolf?”
“Mountain lion.” You could easily hear the distaste in Ray’s voice at what he clearly thought was a cover up story.
“That’s great,” Brad tells him. “Try not to piss Sixta too much. Or Sheriff Ferrando.”
“They’re just prejudiced. Just because I once...”
“I’ll see you later, Ray,” he says and disconnects, pockets the cellphone and winces only slightly when he moves. That would mean probably not running home. Normally he would, but despite the injury looking almost fine, there is actually quite a lot of blood on the shirt. And on the ground.
He heads for the road, hoping to hitch a ride. Chances are slim, way out here at this time, but it seems like he has some luck left. It only takes three minutes of walking for a car to appear and start slowing down before Brad even manages to extend his hand.
The driver is a guy Brad’s age or a little younger, one Brad doesn’t recognise. He must be Brad’s age or a little younger because he’s driving, but he looks like he could just easily be fourteen. Well, his face, at least. He’s not built like he’s fourteen, not at all.
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“Yeah. Had a little tumble downhill while I was running,” he says, lying through his teeth, obviously. He’s pretty sure the guy doesn’t buy it, too, and that makes the lie easier. The guy’s eyes slide to Brad’s jeans and his heavy boots, the flashlight sticking out of his pocket. Not exactly a runner’s attire, Brad has to admit.
“Get in. Heading for the town?”
“Yeah, I’m regrettably late for school. Should probably go home and change first,” he adds, following the guy’s quick look at his shirt.
“I can’t imagine why,” he says, his mouth twitching slightly. Brad can’t help but shake his head at that, bite his tongue to hold back a smile. “I can give you a ride straight to school, actually. I’m pretty sure I’m going to be late as well, and after I’ve missed the first day yesterday, well.”
First day. That at least explained why Brad hadn’t seen him around before. And meant that he would again, in all probability. Which was a novel thought, Brad didn’t usually anticipate people hanging around, didn’t care either way. Still, the guy didn’t seem annoying at first sight, and that was a step up from most people.
And it’s been a good few minutes and he was yet to say something mindnumbingly stupid. Also a valuable characteristic.
“That still leaves us with the shirt conundrum,” he points out. In this state he’d end up in the school nurse’s office. Or, worse, in the principal’s. Better late than that.
“Back seat,” the guy says, emphasising with a quick nod of his head. Brad strains to reach, encountering a black bag. He has to undo the seatbelt to turn and open it, finding a change of clothes and a toiletries bag.
“White shirt is the clean one,” the guy says, pulling over at the gas station, right on the edge of town. Brad appreciates the forethought, he’d prefer not to do this in the school’s parking. “How’s your side?” he adds as Brad gets out of the car, hoisting the bag closer.
“Looks worse than it is,” he says, pulling off his shirt over his head. The movement hurts a little and he groans.
“The shirt looks like you’ve just about bled out, so yes, it must,” the guy says, hopping out of the car on his side and walking around to open the trunk. “Don’t put it on yet.”
“I bet you say it to all the girls,” Brad mutters dryly and shakes his head at himself. He’s not quite sure where that came from.
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“Don’t need it, really.”
“For my peace of mind, come on.” He reaches out to brush his fingers over Brad’s side, check the injury, clean away some of the dried blood. Brad shivers at the touch, especially when the fingers press a little harder, causing him to wince. “You were right, it’s better than it looks,” the guy says. “By the way,” he adds, looking up at Brad, the skin around his eyes crinkling a little, like he’s smiling, even though his mouth doesn’t move. “I’m Nate.”
“So, that warrants an introduction?” Brad asks, shaking his head mournfully. “You had to get to second base to give me your name?”
“Still didn’t get yours. Or are you waiting for the third?”
Brad laughs at that. Mostly at that, and a little at the tickling sensation when Nate presses a large gauze over his side and secures it firmly. “It’s Brad.”
“Nice to meet you, Brad,” Nate says, all politeness. He finishes the task at hand and straightens up, pausing before he glances at his watch. “Well, I think the first period is pretty much over, but we can still make the second.”
Brad’s pretty sure he was going to say something else, last moment change after hesitating, but he’s fine with that. After all, it could be questions. And he probably owes Nate answers, after Nate’s been nothing but helpful, but Brad doesn’t really know them himself, or isn’t sure what the fuck went on last night.
He tosses his bloody shirt into a trashcan and gets back inside the car, leaning back in his seat. “So, you’ve just moved here. I guess the question is, why on earth would you?”
Nate shrugs. “Do I detect a note of dislike for the town?”
“That would imply I give shit. But sure, let’s go with dislike.”
“My father’s job. We move quite a bit, go wherever he’s needed.”
It sounds like a straightforward answer. It doesn’t feel like one.
It’s not like Brad wants to know what Nate’s father does for the living, it’s not like he expected Nate to volunteer that information. They’re not four and in the kindergarten and trying to get all the info out breathlessly.
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He shouldn’t be able to hear all that, notice all that.
“Brad,” Nate says, loud. Too loud.
Brad snaps out of it, the noises fading into a quiet lull, still there but less noticeable. “Sorry. I spaced out there for a bit.”
“You sure you don’t want me to drive you home? Or maybe the hospital?”
“I’m fine.”
“Fine. Okay. But don’t blame me if you die of brain damage.”
Brad expected a little more of an argument, was actually steadying himself up for it. “That was easy.”
Nate smirks as he pulls over into the school’s parking lot. “Surprised me too, to be honest. I’m usually anything but easy,” he adds and turns the engine off, glancing at Brad for a second. “Well, that was an interesting morning, Brad. I suppose I’ll see you around.”
“It’s a small town. An even smaller school,” Brad nods and gets out, shutting the door. He leans right back in, looking through the window at Nate. “Hey. Thanks.”
“Glad to be of service,” Nate nods and that seems to be it, because he’s reaching for his cellphone. He still doesn’t look away and Brad’s reluctant to do so himself. “Anytime you need a ride.”
“Again, thanks.” He steps back, straightens up and loses the eye contact. His chest loosens a little, it is just that slightly easier to breath now. He turns on his heel and walks into the school, looking back only once, to see Nate get out of the car, talking on his cellphone.
Brad can make out every word of Nate explaining to someone that he just got to school, a little late but okay. He can hear the stern voice on the other side wondering what was that important.
From this distance, Brad shouldn’t be able to hear that. Shouldn’t be able to hear Nate, even. Something really fucking weird is going on, maybe he did hit his head a little harder than he thought. He’s never heard of brain damage causing someone’s hearing to improve, but who the fuck knew, brain was a strange thing.
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I'm glad you enjoyed it! :)
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There might be more.
Oh, who am I kidding. There probably will be more, once I'm not swamped with deadlines :D
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I really liked the mystery here, hope we'll see more of the story some day!
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