(no subject)
Title: Wild Thing (You Make My Heart Sing), Chapter 7a
Author: cherryscott and queen_kiwi
Fandom: SPN RPS, on crack
Pairing: cheetah!Jared/wolf!Jensen
Rating: R for the whole chapter
Summary: Jensen and the rest of the pack are built for the winter’s cold; Jared is not.
Disclaimer: Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki, along with everybody else anybody recognizes, are not furry animals of any kind or living on a reserve. No profits are being made off this work of fiction.
The first snow set in around the end of November, fat lazy flakes drifting down overnight and piling over the grass. In a world with no cars, no exhaust or sludge or slush, the snow falls thick and undisturbed, and covers the world in blinding white light.
It’s mid-December now and the footprints of the pack trail across the snow--meandering confusion, paws criss-crossing paws and scuffles kicking up drifts of snow, until they catch up to the line of wolves coming back from the hunt.
Chris trails Dean and Sam, hanging back, and Max and Jo follow Jensen, all of them barking and chattering to each other; Ash carries the remains of the hunt back between his teeth, dragging the meat home for the mothers and pups.
Jared hangs back behind, moving slowly, feet dragging limply through the snow. He's never been this cold--cold through and through, cold like he'll never be warm again--and he can't stop shivering. He drags in a breath, swallowing a cough, and glares determinedly as he picks up his pace to follow the pack.
He won't slow them down. He won't embarrass Jensen.
Jensen falters in his trot when Jared's smell grows more distant, his neck craning back, gaze seeking out his mate. It's cold, too cold and Jensen's worried, has been ever since late autumn, near frantic ever since the first snow. Jared's meant for burnt fields and tall grasses, parched land and sparse waterholes, not for this. Not for winter.
The earth chills Jensen's paw pads to the bone but his fur has grown extra thick like it never did in the zoo, nature taking over to keep him safe from the cold.
He's put on a brave face and remained cheerful, but there's terror in his gut that Jared won't survive until spring.
Barking softly to Chris to keep Max and Jo moving, Jensen falls out of line and lopes back to Jared's side, rubbing against him, slow and sleek.
"Almost home, pussycat," he murmurs, nuzzling at one big ear and licking there, trying to remind Jared of their little niche he's made them, small rock overhang he's lined with scraps of deer hide and pine branches to ease the chill. "Gonna warm you all up when we get back. Think there'll be a tongue bath with your name on it once we get there."
Jared lifts his head to reply, eyes winking gratefully with that green-gold flash of warmth that covers Jensen head to toe, and coughs violently instead, wincing as he swallows. "That," he gets out, "that sounds like paradise, Jen," and manages a smile.
Jensen frowns, fear clenching in his chest, rocketing through him like the sharp-cold blade of a human's knife. He doesn't know what to do, short of escaping in search of humans to find blankets like they used to have at the zoo to line their indoor beds in the winter. Blankets would keep Jared warm, Jensen's sure of it.
"Lots and lots of licks," he says, putting a grin back on his face before he gives another body rub, staying close as they move through the snow to try and at least offer some of his body heat. "All over your paws and your ears and your nose and the tip of your tail and everywhere in between."
Jared grins at the thought of it, shutting his eyes to imagine, a glow of warmth suffusing the cold as he pictures it. He's never deserved this, someone like Jensen--to look in his direction, let alone be his mate--and the strangeness and wonder of it still hits him hard sometimes. A low delighted purr runs through him and he rumbles against Jensen, licking up behind his ears and tugging.
"Should be celebrating the hunt," he murmurs, "you'll be feeding the pack sixty years from now the way you take prey down..."
"Don't care about the hunt," Jensen replies a little stubbornly, shuddering with pleasure at that tug on his ear. "Care about curling up with my mate in our little burrow and warming the both of us up. We've already eaten our fill and I can hunt again tomorrow if we need it, but right now all I've got on my mind is this crazy little pussycat I know. Kinda goofy, but he's all right."
He winks and bites at Jared's shoulder, bumping affectionately against him as they near the pack's sleeping grounds and he guides his mate towards their little rock overhang. Jensen wonders if he should try and sniff out another buck to take down, tear the skin away carefully and drag it back for more cover, more warmth for the cheetah.
"Oh, really? Should I be jealous?" Jared scrapes his teeth over Jensen's throat and licks there, a flicker of his tongue, an intimate gesture that's endearing and seductive all at once. He winks back and ducks underneath the overhang and crawls into the low space, and stumbles abruptly against the wall.
"You should totally be jealous," Jensen mutters, though any further teasing comment is forgotten when his mate stumbles, his face serious, at Jared's side in an instant, nosing concernedly against him. "Hey, you all right?"
He urges him down onto the little pallet of branches and deer skin--it's not enough but it's something at least, and he can drape himself over Jared when they sleep, a living fur blanket to block out some of the cold--tongue lapping out in long strokes over cold fur.
"S'all right, Jay, I've gotcha," Jensen murmurs soothingly. "I know you're cold, pussycat, but I'm gonna warm you up, I promise."
"You're the only thing that ever does," Jared replies blindly, shivering and trembling underneath Jensen's tongue, inching and pressing closer as if he could crawl underneath Jensen's fur and never come out again. He turns his head away to muffle his coughing, his chest shaking, and whimpers as he burrows into Jensen. "Jen..."
Terror screams through Jensen's blood every time Jared sneezes or coughs because this isn't like the zoo, where keepers come with needles and medicines when they get sick-if Jared gets too sick from the cold...
Jensen can't think about it, can't, because if Jared doesn't last the winter, Jensen won't last. Period. There's nothing for him here without his mate and he's just short of sniffing Jeff out and waking him from hibernation to beg him for help. Jeff'd know what to do, even though Jensen doesn't have a clue.
He works down over Jared's huge paws, laving over the tops before he noses under them to lick at the soft pad, warm lick after warm lick seeking to chase away the chill.
"I know, Jay," he whispers, tail rubbing against Jared's as he works, trying to keep the fear from his voice. "I know."
His voice raspy and ragged, Jared purrs throatily--unceasingly, rumbling deep with pleasure--and nuzzles Jensen as he smiles up at him. "My turn afterwards," he says softly, his eyes drooping, "I want to get that spot behind your ears and the one below your right flank, and the one low on your spine that drives you crazy..."
"Anything you want, pussycat," Jensen promises, grinning back at him even though his heart is pounding. "Long as you let me crawl on top of you and pin you down to sleep like the good little bitch you are," he teases.
He tries to make it a game, something light-hearted, a joke. He knows Jared's determined not to slow the pack down but Jensen's half-tempted to tell Dean he's not going to hunt every time, that he needs to stay behind, take care of his mate.
Jared, of course, won't have it though, so he's got to wrap it up in games and teasing to make it more appealing because they've come this far and Jensen is not going to let a fall of snow take his cheetah away from him.
"But what if I'm bad?" Jared returns, flashing a downright wicked look at him, and wraps his long whip-like tail around Jensen's and tugs hard.
It hurts to breathe, ever since the coughing. He refuses to give in, refuses to let the cold beat him--everybody adapts, Jared, Jeff's voice is saying in his ear. The most important thing to bring that smile--that particular one, the slow shy sweet one--back to his mate's face.
A low growl ripples through Jensen's throat and he pounces, pushing Jared back onto soft deer skin spread across the stone floor of their little hideaway. "If you're bad, I may just have to pin you down the hard way, pussy."
His teeth find Jared's chest, biting over his favorite little soft spot, body rubbing down in a sleek grind against the big cat's. "Maybe that'd warm you up more than a tongue bath, hm?"
"In that case--" Jared arches up and bites Jensen on the ear, just below it, at the crook of his neck and at his throat, deep in the hollow of his throat, tiny sharp little bites with little wet flickers of his tongue, "--I've been incredibly bad."
The pine branches beneath the deer skin rustle as Jensen tussles with his mate, growling and biting and licking in long, deliberate strokes and writhing against him in full body rubs that are meant to warm with friction, fur on fur slowly heating the air inside their den to chase away the cold.
"Such a naughty cat," Jensen growls against Jared's throat, huffing out warm breath against short, soft fur, paws scrabbling at his mate's sides to get him pinned and hold him down. "S'a good thing I'm here to keep you in line or else you'd just be causing trouble all over the place."
Jared's reply is lost in a whine--Jensen has no idea what this dark, growly, possessive side of his wolf does to him--and he turns and buries his head in the deer skin between his paws (and his heart hurts as he breathes in the furs Jensen lay down for him, but God, it's such a good hurt, and if he has a hundred years he'll make it up to him) and arches his back, offering himself. "Jen, please--"
"Gonna take care of you, pussycat," Jensen's rasping, growling, snarling his devotion as teeth find the scruff of Jared's neck, biting and holding on. It's hungry and needy and determined and all the while, Jensen's grinding out praise and promises between clenched teeth--gonna keep you warm, gonna make you forget all about the cold, gonna find more furs for you, anything you need--whining low in his throat and shaking when it all just becomes too much.
Jared digs his claws in and whines, and then howls with pleasure--hoarse, fierce, voice broken as it rips out of him and tears his lungs apart. His chest aches, heaving, as he shudders gaspingly against Jensen. He feels ravaged, bruised and split and drained with exhaustion.
He wants this moment forever.
"Jen," he mutters, unable to say or remember anything else, turning up hazy drowsy eyes to him.
"Love you," Jensen breathes back, little more than a huffing sigh of spent pleasure as he collapses atop his mate, body draped over Jared's, face burrowed into the nape of his neck. "S'gonna be all right, Jay," he murmurs soothingly. "I gotcha. Gonna take good care of you, pussycat. S'gonna be all right."
Jared twists up about so he can rest his cheek against the thick fur there--Jensen's coat feels heavier, warmer--and rub it against Jensen's muzzle, breathing him in. "All warm now," he says with a lopsided wistful smile, biting at Jensen's nose and licking low at his throat. "Useless, no good without you, Fido. I'll find that pussycat you were talking about and kick his ass if he steals you away from me."
Jensen just beams, nuzzling back against Jared with another sigh. "Nobody's ever gonna steal me away from you, Jay," Jensen assures him with a teasing little grin. "You're mine and I'm yours and I don't care if a whole pack of cats showed up here, you're the only one for me." Licking a long stripe up Jared's nape, between his ears, Jensen bites softly, voice dropping lower. "Sleep now, pussycat. I'll stay right here and make sure you stay warm."
Jared shivers and purrs with pleasure at that note in Jensen's voice, a melting, dissolving warmth going from his ears to the tip of his tail, and tugs at Jensen's tail with his own, tucking himself in closer to Jensen's fur and burying his nose there with a blissful look. He's asleep in almost an instant.
In the morning, he doesn't stir.
Title: Wild Thing (You Make My Heart Sing), Chapter 7b
Author: cherryscott and queen_kiwi
Fandom: SPN RPS, on crack
Pairing: cheetah!Jared/wolf!Jensen
Rating: R for the whole chapter
Summary: When Jared’s sickness gets worse, Jensen steps forward to take action.
Disclaimer: Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki, along with everybody else anybody recognizes, are not furry animals of any kind or living on a reserve. No profits are being made off this work of fiction.
It's late in the morning before Jensen wakes - usually Jared's up before he is and coaxes him awake with sweet licks and low purrs - so he's surprised to open his eyes and look out of their den and see bustling activity among the pack.
Back arching, he yawns huge and loud, groan tailing off into a whine before he rolls off the top of his mate with a soft grunt, nuzzling against Jared's neck. "Mmm...c'mon, sleepyhead," he chuckles. "You must be feeling laaazy today. S'almost mid-day, looks like, Jay. C'mon. Gotta get up."
Jared doesn't move for a long while, then slowly lifts his head. " 'M up, Jen," he insists, his voice scratched raw, and then coughs hoarsely as he tries to swallow down the roughness bristling in his throat.
Jensen's just starting to panic, to nose around for a pulse, when Jared's voice breaks into his worried daze and he huffs out a relieved sigh, whimpering a little and crawling back over to drape himself half on top of Jared once more.
That cough worries him, terrifies him, and Jensen doesn't know what to do.
"Mornin'," he murmurs, licking along Jared's nape in gentle swipes of his tongue. "You can laze around in bed if you want, pussycat. Was thinkin' maybe I'd go try and find some more furs or branches for us. Maybe some stones I can push in front of the door at night to block out the wind."
Jared tilts his head back into that warm, comforting tongue, and for a long moment he's completely undone by that gesture, knocked out flat and laid low. Then he dips his head underneath Jensen's to get to the sensitive little spot at his pulse point, down in the hollow of his throat, behind the shell of his ear, teeth and tongue feather-light. " 'll be fine, Lassie," he says softly, voice rasping and husky-deep as he strokes ceaselessly over Jensen's fur, as if he needs that touch to hold his head up. "Just need some sleep. Go on and hunt with the pack, make sure you and Chris don't kill everything on the reserve."
He opens his mouth to protest but is silenced by those nibbles and licks, the wolf heaving a weary, concerned sigh as he leans into that touch. "Promise me you'll stay in here 'til I get back," Jensen says, low and insistent. He knows Jared's a stubborn thing, but he hopes that his own worry for his mate will be enough to keep Jared in line so he can keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't get too ill or too cold. "I'll bring you an extra share of meat and the hide back to warm it up even more in here, just...just don't go outside while I'm gone, pussycat. Please? It's too cold out there and I'll worry too much if I think you're out tromping through the snow. Might get a deer hoof to the head and then where would I be?"
"Deer hoof?" Jared presses his nose to Jensen's. "Listen, puppy, I took down a buck the other day--of course, one of those rabbits came along on the way back, but I protected the pack from him, too..." --ducking his head and grinning up at him.
"Well, I meant me, pussy," Jensen chuckles. "Deer could come along while I'm all worried and distracted and maim me - could mess up my fur and then how would I get you all turned on and purring? No good to you if I'm not pretty, you know that," he teases. "But rabbits? Mmm, yeah I've seen how they plot your demise, so maybe you had better stay inside, just in case."
"You take down a buck before it looks twice at you and you're worried you might get a hoof to the head?" The thought that Jensen--the best hunter in the pack, even outside of Jared's estimation--might be distracted enough to be injured or hurt shows up clearly on Jared's face, worry chasing surprise and rueful, grateful tenderness following behind. "Jensen, I'll be fine. I promise. I ain't gonna be taken out by three inches of white stuff on the ground."
"I'm just scared, that's all," Jensen admits, burrowing his face in spotted fur. "This isn't like the zoo where they take you and put you in a cage if you get sick and keep you until you're better. If you get too cold, too sick..."
He trails off, biting at a sleek shoulder with a growl. "I wouldn't make it if I lost you, Jay," Jensen murmurs softly. "There'd be nothing left for me and I wouldn't make it. Wouldn't want to."
Jared, trying to swallow down the sudden lump in his throat, opens his mouth to speak when Chris's voice sounds from outside. "Jen? You coming?"
The cheetah gently butts Jensen in the head, pressing his nose to Jensen's for a long while. "I'll be here when you come back, Jen. Go on."
"You better be," Jensen grumbles, nuzzling one last time before nipping the tip of Jared's nose and crawling towards the opening to the outside. "I'll be back before you know it, Jay."
Stepping out into the snow, Jensen lifts a paw to whack Chris affectionately across the back of the head, grinning a little bit to try and hide his fear and worry. "C'mon then," he says to the other wolf. "Let's go get us a buck or two so I can come back and get back to more important things, like trying to get that little fluff of fur behind my pussy's ear to lay down."
"You know you're whipped, right?" Chris informs him, and has just enough sense to duck out of the way. Dean and Sam are leading the pack out up ahead, howling to their fellow wolves to gather and baying to the wind.
The elder wolf sniffs at the air, breeze ruffling through his fur, and trots back down to them. "Good hunting today," he growls, shifting restlessly, eagerly, from one paw to another as his tail dusts away the snow in its energetic wag. "Ready to set out?"
"Yeah, I am," Jensen agrees cheerfully. "But hey, I'm the one with a warm body to curl around every night, so I'm thinking maybe that's not such a bad thing, bein' whipped."
He turns to the other wolves then, expression sobering just a little because he still feels a little awkward around them, especially Sam. "I'm ready," he agrees, trying to put his focus on the hunt instead of fretting over how chilled Jared's paw pads are going to be by the time he returns.
"Goin' all mushy on me, pup?" Chris cuffs him about the ears in retaliation, pawing at him. "Think you've gotten soft in the head..."
Dean lifts his head and howls, and the rest of the pack joins in, a chorus of long, eerie, keening cries that ring in the air. Then he jumps forward, darting up the slope and racing out in front of the pack, and the wolves scramble after, limbs stretching out and tails streaming past into hard running.
Jared watches them go from under the overhang, lying on his pallet, and buries his nose in the deer skins. He tries to catch a fading bit of Jensen's scent, a whiff of the air around the racing pack (wants nothing more than to leap up and follow, claws tearing up the earth, blurring faster than the wind). His breath hitches, on a low whimpering noise, and he coughs--long and hard until he's wheezing for breath.
Pneumonia in animals is characterized by the onset of fever, difficult breathing, sneezing, and slower, clumsier movements. By late evening, Jared's thoughts are wandering away and he can't keep up with them, his vision swimming, each breath tightening the fist around his lungs as he wheezes for air.
Jensen makes several trips back before he alerts Jared to his presence. One trip is spent hauling two bloody buckskins over his back, blood and guts matting down his fur as he carries them back to the den, dropping them at the door before turning back.
His mate appears to be sleeping when he returns again, this time nosing a medium-sized stone along through the snow. Back and forth he goes, gathering stones, the last one big enough that he has to coax Chris into helping him, heads aching from pushing when they're done. That one they position across much of the entrance to the den, Jensen nudging the smaller stones inside before he disappears again.
The last trip sees him return dragging his and Jared's share of the kill--they'd felled two bucks and a yearling and he claimed the yearling for his own. Jensen finally barks softly to Jared when he gets to their den once more, tail wagging as he crouches low to peer inside.
"Dinnertime, pussycat," he grins. "And I've got new skins for you, too."
Jared lifts his head and tries to crawl over to Jensen, making an effort to stand upright and help, tackle Jensen in greeting, do something--but all that comes out is a hoarse barking cough, and his paws give way. "Lemme--I can--" he starts, out of breath as he leans heavily against the cave wall.
Hot, bitter shame is flooding through him at his weakness--Jensen is bringing him food, skins, building him a wall to keep out the cold, and he can't even stand up. He's an embarrassment to his mate and the pack. He winces, unable to meet Jensen's eyes, and makes himself move forward to grab at the yearling.
"Hey," Jensen says sharply, frowning as he drags the yearling inside and reaches back out for the skins, pulling them in before nudging the smaller rocks to cover the opening, leaving just enough light to allow him to see his mate. "This isn't your fault, okay? You're not being weak or pitiful or anything else I know you're thinking, Jay. You're not made for this kind of cold and that's just nature."
He smiles a little, bumping noses with his mate, licking at him before he drags the skins over to the pallet, fluffing them up like a nest around the cheetah. "Lesser cats woulda given up at first snowfall, Jared. You're the bravest pussycat I know, making it this long."
"I told you before," Jared murmurs, his voice nearly gone, "I never had a choice. It's here with you or nowhere."
He manages a smile back, tugging at Jensen to lie down with him. The green-gold eyes are dulled with fever, glazed over, and he's panting fast and shallow, swallowing down the dry sandpaper scrape in his throat as he nudges at Jensen's flank, nuzzling into the fur there. "You're all over blood and guts, c'mere..."
Jensen feels frantic with terror, a constant burrowing ache in his chest and a helplessness because he isn't sure his efforts are helping so much as just prolonging the inevitable. Jared's sick, whether he wants to admit it or not, and Jensen's not dense enough to think that devotion and a few deer skins will save him if the sickness grows too much worse.
Flopping down beside him, Jensen leans against Jared with a smile, nipping at his nose before he settles himself to be bathed, lazy smile on his lips. "Skinning a buck's messy business," Jensen mumbles, tail rubbing along Jared's in a soothing motion. "Got it all over myself; my momma'd be ashamed at how filthy I am."
"I kinda like you being filthy," Jared returns, mouth tilting up lopsidedly into a grin, as his tongue laves over Jensen's paws and fur--gentle, warm, thorough. His eyes are closed; he knows every inch, every crook and hollow and muscle of Jensen by touch alone. "D'you ever miss her?"
"Course I do," Jensen murmurs back, leaning into those sweet caresses and offering back a few of his own, that contact more important at the moment than the food waiting to be eaten. "She's my momma. I just try not to think about it, you know? If I spent all this time thinking about how I'll never see her or my daddy or my brothers and sisters again, I'd be all mopey and then how would I take care of my pussycat if I were feeling sorry for myself all the time? Long as I've got you, that's all I really need. I miss her, but I can live without her. Couldn't live without you."
That's possibly the sappiest, mushiest, sweetest thing Jared has ever heard. He huffs out a soft noise, smiling, and licks away the last of the blood, crawling over to drag the yearling inside.
"She raised a fine specimen of a wolf, in spite of his sufferin' from a severe case of smartass--damn, Jen, you wrestle alligators and hunt elephants in your spare time?" he grunts; the yearling is easily the size of a large doe. "For someone born in a zoo, you're getting along well..."
"The alligator thing was only a rumor," Jensen jokes, grinning bright and wide, tail flicking at Jared's as his mate pulls the deer closer.
He ducks his head a little at that compliment, paw scratching at the dirt beneath the pallet. "Guess it's just instinct, I dunno. Was always pretty fast and my daddy used to tell me about hunting and all, but...I dunno. I didn't think I'd be all that good at it but when I'm out there, it's like...it's like I just know what to do."
"And the elephants thing wasn't?" Jared's eyes widen comically. "Well, hell, they can put you in a cage and lock up the bars but you're wolf through and through--"
Maybe it's the bristles of the deer's fur or maybe it's the flies landing nearby, but suddenly Jared's gagging, and coughing, and then he can't stop, and he has to scramble through the opening to get outside for air.
He wheezes and chokes, his chest exploding inside with each breath, and stabs his claws into the snow to stop himself.
When he looks up, still dragging in gasps of air, the wolves--Chris and Dean, idling nearby; Sam, tearing apart a buck with Ava and the pups--are staring, their eyes boring into him.
"Jay?" Chris tilts his head, eyes furrowing into a frown.
The hot bitterness prickles back through his fur, wrenching inside his belly, and he holds his chin high. "I'm fine," he rasps--staring back defiantly at them--and walks as steadily as he can back into the shelter, as his stomach turns over.
Jensen's at the mouth of the den, shivering and not with the cold. He rubs noses with his mate and glances over his shoulder, meeting Chris's eyes.
Chris just looks at him sadly and Jensen's chest tightens because he knows that look - it was the same one Chris gave him when they first came here, when he thought he'd never see Jared again.
It's then that Jensen makes a decision.
"Chris," he says in a low voice. "I want you to stay with him, and don't let him out of the den, no matter what he says. Get the others and rough him up a little if you have to, but don't let him get out in the snow."
The other wolf just frowns harder at him, confused. "Jen, what are y--"
"I'm going to find the humans," he says. "They've got to be here somewhere. I remember Jeff saying something about them having a habitat where they stay and look after things, monitor things and make sure there aren't any fires or hunters or anything like that. They'll have medicine."
"Jen, if they catch him, d'you think they're going to let a cheetah stay out here?" Chris shakes his head. "They'll take him back to the zoo in their vans and there's no way in hell he'll be let out again--"
"I'll kill them if they try to take him away," Jensen growls, that sound turning to a low whine in his throat as he ducks his head and shifts his weight back and forth anxiously from front paw to front paw. "If he stays out here much longer, I don't...I don't think..."
He whimpers softly, tail tucking between his legs at the mere thought of it.
"It won't just be him," he mutters softly. "I'll die too, Chris. I can't...I can't make it out here without him and everything I've tried just...I don't think it's helping."
Chris trots forward to nudge his shoulder at those words, nuzzling there; looks past him, at Jared curled up into a tight ball in the shelter, and meets Jensen's eyes again. "Maybe he'll be better off in the zoo--safe and warm--than here," he begins tentatively.
Jensen's throat goes so tight he can't speak for a long minute, his head turning, gaze drifting back over his shoulder to settle on his mate before he turns back to Chris, deep sadness in his eyes.
"I know he would be," he says softly. "But I--I'm so selfish, Chris, I need him here, need him with me and I don't...if I tried to go back too, what if they just brought me back out here again? He'd tell me it's either here or nowhere if I brought it up, but... I don't..."
"I dunno, Jen," Chris says quietly, his face all twisted up into a knot as he dips his head in a helpless shrug. "I don't know what to do."
"Tell me," Jensen rasps desperately, still shaking a little as he looks up imploringly at the other wolf. "Tell me I should go find the humans and bring them here, let them take him back. I trust you, always have, Chris, trust your judgment. Tell me that I could live with it, knowing he's so far away, knowing I'll never see him again but knowing he's safe. Tell me not to be selfish about this, Chris, 'cause I can't... I can't just stay here and watch him die."
Chris looks at him for a long while, straight into his eyes, and then says in a low, controlled, even tone, "You should go and find the humans and bring them here, Jensen."
Jensen whines softly, the sound pitiful and broken because he knows Chris is right. He crawls back into the den and licks long stripes behind Jared's ears, nuzzling him gently and murmuring, "Sleep, pussycat. I'll be back in a little while."
One last lick has him squirming through the smaller opening, his gaze a little hollow when he looks at Chris again.
"Stay with him," he says again, firm even though it's obvious that the decision is killing him. "Keep him alive until I get back with help."
Chris nods, looking down at his paws--unable to meet Jensen's eyes--and crawls into the den as Jensen goes. Jared, his brain blurry and dissolving with fever, looks up through a haze at Chris as he comes through, and feels panic squeezing fist-like around his throat. "Chris? What--"
"Easy, Jay," Chris is saying over and over again, "easy, take it easy. It's gonna be okay. Take it easy."
As Jensen stops a few feet away, just staring at the den, Dean trots over looking concerned, bumping his nose against Jensen's shoulder.
"Do you need any help?"
Jensen shakes his head, eyes drifting from Dean to the rest of the pack.
"No," he says. "You've gotta look out for the others. I've gotta look out for my mate. It's my fault he's here to begin with and I'm going to make it right. Just... Chris is gonna stay with him, but if you could make sure to bring a portion of the hunts to him so he has something to eat while I'm gone, I would really be in debt to you, Dean. I don't know how I'd repay you, but I'd do anything you asked."
"You don't have to," Dean says, shaking his head before Jensen is even done. "Packmates don't owe each other favours. Just stay safe, all right?"
One last look and a grateful (albeit a little strained) smile shot Dean's way and Jensen's loping off into the woods, meeting the river and turning to follow it north, where Jeff had told him the humans might be. He doesn't know how far it is or if he'll even be able to get them here, but no matter what, he knows he has to try.
Author: cherryscott and queen_kiwi
Fandom: SPN RPS, on crack
Pairing: cheetah!Jared/wolf!Jensen
Rating: R for the whole chapter
Summary: Jensen and the rest of the pack are built for the winter’s cold; Jared is not.
Disclaimer: Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki, along with everybody else anybody recognizes, are not furry animals of any kind or living on a reserve. No profits are being made off this work of fiction.
The first snow set in around the end of November, fat lazy flakes drifting down overnight and piling over the grass. In a world with no cars, no exhaust or sludge or slush, the snow falls thick and undisturbed, and covers the world in blinding white light.
It’s mid-December now and the footprints of the pack trail across the snow--meandering confusion, paws criss-crossing paws and scuffles kicking up drifts of snow, until they catch up to the line of wolves coming back from the hunt.
Chris trails Dean and Sam, hanging back, and Max and Jo follow Jensen, all of them barking and chattering to each other; Ash carries the remains of the hunt back between his teeth, dragging the meat home for the mothers and pups.
Jared hangs back behind, moving slowly, feet dragging limply through the snow. He's never been this cold--cold through and through, cold like he'll never be warm again--and he can't stop shivering. He drags in a breath, swallowing a cough, and glares determinedly as he picks up his pace to follow the pack.
He won't slow them down. He won't embarrass Jensen.
Jensen falters in his trot when Jared's smell grows more distant, his neck craning back, gaze seeking out his mate. It's cold, too cold and Jensen's worried, has been ever since late autumn, near frantic ever since the first snow. Jared's meant for burnt fields and tall grasses, parched land and sparse waterholes, not for this. Not for winter.
The earth chills Jensen's paw pads to the bone but his fur has grown extra thick like it never did in the zoo, nature taking over to keep him safe from the cold.
He's put on a brave face and remained cheerful, but there's terror in his gut that Jared won't survive until spring.
Barking softly to Chris to keep Max and Jo moving, Jensen falls out of line and lopes back to Jared's side, rubbing against him, slow and sleek.
"Almost home, pussycat," he murmurs, nuzzling at one big ear and licking there, trying to remind Jared of their little niche he's made them, small rock overhang he's lined with scraps of deer hide and pine branches to ease the chill. "Gonna warm you all up when we get back. Think there'll be a tongue bath with your name on it once we get there."
Jared lifts his head to reply, eyes winking gratefully with that green-gold flash of warmth that covers Jensen head to toe, and coughs violently instead, wincing as he swallows. "That," he gets out, "that sounds like paradise, Jen," and manages a smile.
Jensen frowns, fear clenching in his chest, rocketing through him like the sharp-cold blade of a human's knife. He doesn't know what to do, short of escaping in search of humans to find blankets like they used to have at the zoo to line their indoor beds in the winter. Blankets would keep Jared warm, Jensen's sure of it.
"Lots and lots of licks," he says, putting a grin back on his face before he gives another body rub, staying close as they move through the snow to try and at least offer some of his body heat. "All over your paws and your ears and your nose and the tip of your tail and everywhere in between."
Jared grins at the thought of it, shutting his eyes to imagine, a glow of warmth suffusing the cold as he pictures it. He's never deserved this, someone like Jensen--to look in his direction, let alone be his mate--and the strangeness and wonder of it still hits him hard sometimes. A low delighted purr runs through him and he rumbles against Jensen, licking up behind his ears and tugging.
"Should be celebrating the hunt," he murmurs, "you'll be feeding the pack sixty years from now the way you take prey down..."
"Don't care about the hunt," Jensen replies a little stubbornly, shuddering with pleasure at that tug on his ear. "Care about curling up with my mate in our little burrow and warming the both of us up. We've already eaten our fill and I can hunt again tomorrow if we need it, but right now all I've got on my mind is this crazy little pussycat I know. Kinda goofy, but he's all right."
He winks and bites at Jared's shoulder, bumping affectionately against him as they near the pack's sleeping grounds and he guides his mate towards their little rock overhang. Jensen wonders if he should try and sniff out another buck to take down, tear the skin away carefully and drag it back for more cover, more warmth for the cheetah.
"Oh, really? Should I be jealous?" Jared scrapes his teeth over Jensen's throat and licks there, a flicker of his tongue, an intimate gesture that's endearing and seductive all at once. He winks back and ducks underneath the overhang and crawls into the low space, and stumbles abruptly against the wall.
"You should totally be jealous," Jensen mutters, though any further teasing comment is forgotten when his mate stumbles, his face serious, at Jared's side in an instant, nosing concernedly against him. "Hey, you all right?"
He urges him down onto the little pallet of branches and deer skin--it's not enough but it's something at least, and he can drape himself over Jared when they sleep, a living fur blanket to block out some of the cold--tongue lapping out in long strokes over cold fur.
"S'all right, Jay, I've gotcha," Jensen murmurs soothingly. "I know you're cold, pussycat, but I'm gonna warm you up, I promise."
"You're the only thing that ever does," Jared replies blindly, shivering and trembling underneath Jensen's tongue, inching and pressing closer as if he could crawl underneath Jensen's fur and never come out again. He turns his head away to muffle his coughing, his chest shaking, and whimpers as he burrows into Jensen. "Jen..."
Terror screams through Jensen's blood every time Jared sneezes or coughs because this isn't like the zoo, where keepers come with needles and medicines when they get sick-if Jared gets too sick from the cold...
Jensen can't think about it, can't, because if Jared doesn't last the winter, Jensen won't last. Period. There's nothing for him here without his mate and he's just short of sniffing Jeff out and waking him from hibernation to beg him for help. Jeff'd know what to do, even though Jensen doesn't have a clue.
He works down over Jared's huge paws, laving over the tops before he noses under them to lick at the soft pad, warm lick after warm lick seeking to chase away the chill.
"I know, Jay," he whispers, tail rubbing against Jared's as he works, trying to keep the fear from his voice. "I know."
His voice raspy and ragged, Jared purrs throatily--unceasingly, rumbling deep with pleasure--and nuzzles Jensen as he smiles up at him. "My turn afterwards," he says softly, his eyes drooping, "I want to get that spot behind your ears and the one below your right flank, and the one low on your spine that drives you crazy..."
"Anything you want, pussycat," Jensen promises, grinning back at him even though his heart is pounding. "Long as you let me crawl on top of you and pin you down to sleep like the good little bitch you are," he teases.
He tries to make it a game, something light-hearted, a joke. He knows Jared's determined not to slow the pack down but Jensen's half-tempted to tell Dean he's not going to hunt every time, that he needs to stay behind, take care of his mate.
Jared, of course, won't have it though, so he's got to wrap it up in games and teasing to make it more appealing because they've come this far and Jensen is not going to let a fall of snow take his cheetah away from him.
"But what if I'm bad?" Jared returns, flashing a downright wicked look at him, and wraps his long whip-like tail around Jensen's and tugs hard.
It hurts to breathe, ever since the coughing. He refuses to give in, refuses to let the cold beat him--everybody adapts, Jared, Jeff's voice is saying in his ear. The most important thing to bring that smile--that particular one, the slow shy sweet one--back to his mate's face.
A low growl ripples through Jensen's throat and he pounces, pushing Jared back onto soft deer skin spread across the stone floor of their little hideaway. "If you're bad, I may just have to pin you down the hard way, pussy."
His teeth find Jared's chest, biting over his favorite little soft spot, body rubbing down in a sleek grind against the big cat's. "Maybe that'd warm you up more than a tongue bath, hm?"
"In that case--" Jared arches up and bites Jensen on the ear, just below it, at the crook of his neck and at his throat, deep in the hollow of his throat, tiny sharp little bites with little wet flickers of his tongue, "--I've been incredibly bad."
The pine branches beneath the deer skin rustle as Jensen tussles with his mate, growling and biting and licking in long, deliberate strokes and writhing against him in full body rubs that are meant to warm with friction, fur on fur slowly heating the air inside their den to chase away the cold.
"Such a naughty cat," Jensen growls against Jared's throat, huffing out warm breath against short, soft fur, paws scrabbling at his mate's sides to get him pinned and hold him down. "S'a good thing I'm here to keep you in line or else you'd just be causing trouble all over the place."
Jared's reply is lost in a whine--Jensen has no idea what this dark, growly, possessive side of his wolf does to him--and he turns and buries his head in the deer skin between his paws (and his heart hurts as he breathes in the furs Jensen lay down for him, but God, it's such a good hurt, and if he has a hundred years he'll make it up to him) and arches his back, offering himself. "Jen, please--"
"Gonna take care of you, pussycat," Jensen's rasping, growling, snarling his devotion as teeth find the scruff of Jared's neck, biting and holding on. It's hungry and needy and determined and all the while, Jensen's grinding out praise and promises between clenched teeth--gonna keep you warm, gonna make you forget all about the cold, gonna find more furs for you, anything you need--whining low in his throat and shaking when it all just becomes too much.
Jared digs his claws in and whines, and then howls with pleasure--hoarse, fierce, voice broken as it rips out of him and tears his lungs apart. His chest aches, heaving, as he shudders gaspingly against Jensen. He feels ravaged, bruised and split and drained with exhaustion.
He wants this moment forever.
"Jen," he mutters, unable to say or remember anything else, turning up hazy drowsy eyes to him.
"Love you," Jensen breathes back, little more than a huffing sigh of spent pleasure as he collapses atop his mate, body draped over Jared's, face burrowed into the nape of his neck. "S'gonna be all right, Jay," he murmurs soothingly. "I gotcha. Gonna take good care of you, pussycat. S'gonna be all right."
Jared twists up about so he can rest his cheek against the thick fur there--Jensen's coat feels heavier, warmer--and rub it against Jensen's muzzle, breathing him in. "All warm now," he says with a lopsided wistful smile, biting at Jensen's nose and licking low at his throat. "Useless, no good without you, Fido. I'll find that pussycat you were talking about and kick his ass if he steals you away from me."
Jensen just beams, nuzzling back against Jared with another sigh. "Nobody's ever gonna steal me away from you, Jay," Jensen assures him with a teasing little grin. "You're mine and I'm yours and I don't care if a whole pack of cats showed up here, you're the only one for me." Licking a long stripe up Jared's nape, between his ears, Jensen bites softly, voice dropping lower. "Sleep now, pussycat. I'll stay right here and make sure you stay warm."
Jared shivers and purrs with pleasure at that note in Jensen's voice, a melting, dissolving warmth going from his ears to the tip of his tail, and tugs at Jensen's tail with his own, tucking himself in closer to Jensen's fur and burying his nose there with a blissful look. He's asleep in almost an instant.
In the morning, he doesn't stir.
Title: Wild Thing (You Make My Heart Sing), Chapter 7b
Author: cherryscott and queen_kiwi
Fandom: SPN RPS, on crack
Pairing: cheetah!Jared/wolf!Jensen
Rating: R for the whole chapter
Summary: When Jared’s sickness gets worse, Jensen steps forward to take action.
Disclaimer: Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki, along with everybody else anybody recognizes, are not furry animals of any kind or living on a reserve. No profits are being made off this work of fiction.
It's late in the morning before Jensen wakes - usually Jared's up before he is and coaxes him awake with sweet licks and low purrs - so he's surprised to open his eyes and look out of their den and see bustling activity among the pack.
Back arching, he yawns huge and loud, groan tailing off into a whine before he rolls off the top of his mate with a soft grunt, nuzzling against Jared's neck. "Mmm...c'mon, sleepyhead," he chuckles. "You must be feeling laaazy today. S'almost mid-day, looks like, Jay. C'mon. Gotta get up."
Jared doesn't move for a long while, then slowly lifts his head. " 'M up, Jen," he insists, his voice scratched raw, and then coughs hoarsely as he tries to swallow down the roughness bristling in his throat.
Jensen's just starting to panic, to nose around for a pulse, when Jared's voice breaks into his worried daze and he huffs out a relieved sigh, whimpering a little and crawling back over to drape himself half on top of Jared once more.
That cough worries him, terrifies him, and Jensen doesn't know what to do.
"Mornin'," he murmurs, licking along Jared's nape in gentle swipes of his tongue. "You can laze around in bed if you want, pussycat. Was thinkin' maybe I'd go try and find some more furs or branches for us. Maybe some stones I can push in front of the door at night to block out the wind."
Jared tilts his head back into that warm, comforting tongue, and for a long moment he's completely undone by that gesture, knocked out flat and laid low. Then he dips his head underneath Jensen's to get to the sensitive little spot at his pulse point, down in the hollow of his throat, behind the shell of his ear, teeth and tongue feather-light. " 'll be fine, Lassie," he says softly, voice rasping and husky-deep as he strokes ceaselessly over Jensen's fur, as if he needs that touch to hold his head up. "Just need some sleep. Go on and hunt with the pack, make sure you and Chris don't kill everything on the reserve."
He opens his mouth to protest but is silenced by those nibbles and licks, the wolf heaving a weary, concerned sigh as he leans into that touch. "Promise me you'll stay in here 'til I get back," Jensen says, low and insistent. He knows Jared's a stubborn thing, but he hopes that his own worry for his mate will be enough to keep Jared in line so he can keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't get too ill or too cold. "I'll bring you an extra share of meat and the hide back to warm it up even more in here, just...just don't go outside while I'm gone, pussycat. Please? It's too cold out there and I'll worry too much if I think you're out tromping through the snow. Might get a deer hoof to the head and then where would I be?"
"Deer hoof?" Jared presses his nose to Jensen's. "Listen, puppy, I took down a buck the other day--of course, one of those rabbits came along on the way back, but I protected the pack from him, too..." --ducking his head and grinning up at him.
"Well, I meant me, pussy," Jensen chuckles. "Deer could come along while I'm all worried and distracted and maim me - could mess up my fur and then how would I get you all turned on and purring? No good to you if I'm not pretty, you know that," he teases. "But rabbits? Mmm, yeah I've seen how they plot your demise, so maybe you had better stay inside, just in case."
"You take down a buck before it looks twice at you and you're worried you might get a hoof to the head?" The thought that Jensen--the best hunter in the pack, even outside of Jared's estimation--might be distracted enough to be injured or hurt shows up clearly on Jared's face, worry chasing surprise and rueful, grateful tenderness following behind. "Jensen, I'll be fine. I promise. I ain't gonna be taken out by three inches of white stuff on the ground."
"I'm just scared, that's all," Jensen admits, burrowing his face in spotted fur. "This isn't like the zoo where they take you and put you in a cage if you get sick and keep you until you're better. If you get too cold, too sick..."
He trails off, biting at a sleek shoulder with a growl. "I wouldn't make it if I lost you, Jay," Jensen murmurs softly. "There'd be nothing left for me and I wouldn't make it. Wouldn't want to."
Jared, trying to swallow down the sudden lump in his throat, opens his mouth to speak when Chris's voice sounds from outside. "Jen? You coming?"
The cheetah gently butts Jensen in the head, pressing his nose to Jensen's for a long while. "I'll be here when you come back, Jen. Go on."
"You better be," Jensen grumbles, nuzzling one last time before nipping the tip of Jared's nose and crawling towards the opening to the outside. "I'll be back before you know it, Jay."
Stepping out into the snow, Jensen lifts a paw to whack Chris affectionately across the back of the head, grinning a little bit to try and hide his fear and worry. "C'mon then," he says to the other wolf. "Let's go get us a buck or two so I can come back and get back to more important things, like trying to get that little fluff of fur behind my pussy's ear to lay down."
"You know you're whipped, right?" Chris informs him, and has just enough sense to duck out of the way. Dean and Sam are leading the pack out up ahead, howling to their fellow wolves to gather and baying to the wind.
The elder wolf sniffs at the air, breeze ruffling through his fur, and trots back down to them. "Good hunting today," he growls, shifting restlessly, eagerly, from one paw to another as his tail dusts away the snow in its energetic wag. "Ready to set out?"
"Yeah, I am," Jensen agrees cheerfully. "But hey, I'm the one with a warm body to curl around every night, so I'm thinking maybe that's not such a bad thing, bein' whipped."
He turns to the other wolves then, expression sobering just a little because he still feels a little awkward around them, especially Sam. "I'm ready," he agrees, trying to put his focus on the hunt instead of fretting over how chilled Jared's paw pads are going to be by the time he returns.
"Goin' all mushy on me, pup?" Chris cuffs him about the ears in retaliation, pawing at him. "Think you've gotten soft in the head..."
Dean lifts his head and howls, and the rest of the pack joins in, a chorus of long, eerie, keening cries that ring in the air. Then he jumps forward, darting up the slope and racing out in front of the pack, and the wolves scramble after, limbs stretching out and tails streaming past into hard running.
Jared watches them go from under the overhang, lying on his pallet, and buries his nose in the deer skins. He tries to catch a fading bit of Jensen's scent, a whiff of the air around the racing pack (wants nothing more than to leap up and follow, claws tearing up the earth, blurring faster than the wind). His breath hitches, on a low whimpering noise, and he coughs--long and hard until he's wheezing for breath.
Pneumonia in animals is characterized by the onset of fever, difficult breathing, sneezing, and slower, clumsier movements. By late evening, Jared's thoughts are wandering away and he can't keep up with them, his vision swimming, each breath tightening the fist around his lungs as he wheezes for air.
Jensen makes several trips back before he alerts Jared to his presence. One trip is spent hauling two bloody buckskins over his back, blood and guts matting down his fur as he carries them back to the den, dropping them at the door before turning back.
His mate appears to be sleeping when he returns again, this time nosing a medium-sized stone along through the snow. Back and forth he goes, gathering stones, the last one big enough that he has to coax Chris into helping him, heads aching from pushing when they're done. That one they position across much of the entrance to the den, Jensen nudging the smaller stones inside before he disappears again.
The last trip sees him return dragging his and Jared's share of the kill--they'd felled two bucks and a yearling and he claimed the yearling for his own. Jensen finally barks softly to Jared when he gets to their den once more, tail wagging as he crouches low to peer inside.
"Dinnertime, pussycat," he grins. "And I've got new skins for you, too."
Jared lifts his head and tries to crawl over to Jensen, making an effort to stand upright and help, tackle Jensen in greeting, do something--but all that comes out is a hoarse barking cough, and his paws give way. "Lemme--I can--" he starts, out of breath as he leans heavily against the cave wall.
Hot, bitter shame is flooding through him at his weakness--Jensen is bringing him food, skins, building him a wall to keep out the cold, and he can't even stand up. He's an embarrassment to his mate and the pack. He winces, unable to meet Jensen's eyes, and makes himself move forward to grab at the yearling.
"Hey," Jensen says sharply, frowning as he drags the yearling inside and reaches back out for the skins, pulling them in before nudging the smaller rocks to cover the opening, leaving just enough light to allow him to see his mate. "This isn't your fault, okay? You're not being weak or pitiful or anything else I know you're thinking, Jay. You're not made for this kind of cold and that's just nature."
He smiles a little, bumping noses with his mate, licking at him before he drags the skins over to the pallet, fluffing them up like a nest around the cheetah. "Lesser cats woulda given up at first snowfall, Jared. You're the bravest pussycat I know, making it this long."
"I told you before," Jared murmurs, his voice nearly gone, "I never had a choice. It's here with you or nowhere."
He manages a smile back, tugging at Jensen to lie down with him. The green-gold eyes are dulled with fever, glazed over, and he's panting fast and shallow, swallowing down the dry sandpaper scrape in his throat as he nudges at Jensen's flank, nuzzling into the fur there. "You're all over blood and guts, c'mere..."
Jensen feels frantic with terror, a constant burrowing ache in his chest and a helplessness because he isn't sure his efforts are helping so much as just prolonging the inevitable. Jared's sick, whether he wants to admit it or not, and Jensen's not dense enough to think that devotion and a few deer skins will save him if the sickness grows too much worse.
Flopping down beside him, Jensen leans against Jared with a smile, nipping at his nose before he settles himself to be bathed, lazy smile on his lips. "Skinning a buck's messy business," Jensen mumbles, tail rubbing along Jared's in a soothing motion. "Got it all over myself; my momma'd be ashamed at how filthy I am."
"I kinda like you being filthy," Jared returns, mouth tilting up lopsidedly into a grin, as his tongue laves over Jensen's paws and fur--gentle, warm, thorough. His eyes are closed; he knows every inch, every crook and hollow and muscle of Jensen by touch alone. "D'you ever miss her?"
"Course I do," Jensen murmurs back, leaning into those sweet caresses and offering back a few of his own, that contact more important at the moment than the food waiting to be eaten. "She's my momma. I just try not to think about it, you know? If I spent all this time thinking about how I'll never see her or my daddy or my brothers and sisters again, I'd be all mopey and then how would I take care of my pussycat if I were feeling sorry for myself all the time? Long as I've got you, that's all I really need. I miss her, but I can live without her. Couldn't live without you."
That's possibly the sappiest, mushiest, sweetest thing Jared has ever heard. He huffs out a soft noise, smiling, and licks away the last of the blood, crawling over to drag the yearling inside.
"She raised a fine specimen of a wolf, in spite of his sufferin' from a severe case of smartass--damn, Jen, you wrestle alligators and hunt elephants in your spare time?" he grunts; the yearling is easily the size of a large doe. "For someone born in a zoo, you're getting along well..."
"The alligator thing was only a rumor," Jensen jokes, grinning bright and wide, tail flicking at Jared's as his mate pulls the deer closer.
He ducks his head a little at that compliment, paw scratching at the dirt beneath the pallet. "Guess it's just instinct, I dunno. Was always pretty fast and my daddy used to tell me about hunting and all, but...I dunno. I didn't think I'd be all that good at it but when I'm out there, it's like...it's like I just know what to do."
"And the elephants thing wasn't?" Jared's eyes widen comically. "Well, hell, they can put you in a cage and lock up the bars but you're wolf through and through--"
Maybe it's the bristles of the deer's fur or maybe it's the flies landing nearby, but suddenly Jared's gagging, and coughing, and then he can't stop, and he has to scramble through the opening to get outside for air.
He wheezes and chokes, his chest exploding inside with each breath, and stabs his claws into the snow to stop himself.
When he looks up, still dragging in gasps of air, the wolves--Chris and Dean, idling nearby; Sam, tearing apart a buck with Ava and the pups--are staring, their eyes boring into him.
"Jay?" Chris tilts his head, eyes furrowing into a frown.
The hot bitterness prickles back through his fur, wrenching inside his belly, and he holds his chin high. "I'm fine," he rasps--staring back defiantly at them--and walks as steadily as he can back into the shelter, as his stomach turns over.
Jensen's at the mouth of the den, shivering and not with the cold. He rubs noses with his mate and glances over his shoulder, meeting Chris's eyes.
Chris just looks at him sadly and Jensen's chest tightens because he knows that look - it was the same one Chris gave him when they first came here, when he thought he'd never see Jared again.
It's then that Jensen makes a decision.
"Chris," he says in a low voice. "I want you to stay with him, and don't let him out of the den, no matter what he says. Get the others and rough him up a little if you have to, but don't let him get out in the snow."
The other wolf just frowns harder at him, confused. "Jen, what are y--"
"I'm going to find the humans," he says. "They've got to be here somewhere. I remember Jeff saying something about them having a habitat where they stay and look after things, monitor things and make sure there aren't any fires or hunters or anything like that. They'll have medicine."
"Jen, if they catch him, d'you think they're going to let a cheetah stay out here?" Chris shakes his head. "They'll take him back to the zoo in their vans and there's no way in hell he'll be let out again--"
"I'll kill them if they try to take him away," Jensen growls, that sound turning to a low whine in his throat as he ducks his head and shifts his weight back and forth anxiously from front paw to front paw. "If he stays out here much longer, I don't...I don't think..."
He whimpers softly, tail tucking between his legs at the mere thought of it.
"It won't just be him," he mutters softly. "I'll die too, Chris. I can't...I can't make it out here without him and everything I've tried just...I don't think it's helping."
Chris trots forward to nudge his shoulder at those words, nuzzling there; looks past him, at Jared curled up into a tight ball in the shelter, and meets Jensen's eyes again. "Maybe he'll be better off in the zoo--safe and warm--than here," he begins tentatively.
Jensen's throat goes so tight he can't speak for a long minute, his head turning, gaze drifting back over his shoulder to settle on his mate before he turns back to Chris, deep sadness in his eyes.
"I know he would be," he says softly. "But I--I'm so selfish, Chris, I need him here, need him with me and I don't...if I tried to go back too, what if they just brought me back out here again? He'd tell me it's either here or nowhere if I brought it up, but... I don't..."
"I dunno, Jen," Chris says quietly, his face all twisted up into a knot as he dips his head in a helpless shrug. "I don't know what to do."
"Tell me," Jensen rasps desperately, still shaking a little as he looks up imploringly at the other wolf. "Tell me I should go find the humans and bring them here, let them take him back. I trust you, always have, Chris, trust your judgment. Tell me that I could live with it, knowing he's so far away, knowing I'll never see him again but knowing he's safe. Tell me not to be selfish about this, Chris, 'cause I can't... I can't just stay here and watch him die."
Chris looks at him for a long while, straight into his eyes, and then says in a low, controlled, even tone, "You should go and find the humans and bring them here, Jensen."
Jensen whines softly, the sound pitiful and broken because he knows Chris is right. He crawls back into the den and licks long stripes behind Jared's ears, nuzzling him gently and murmuring, "Sleep, pussycat. I'll be back in a little while."
One last lick has him squirming through the smaller opening, his gaze a little hollow when he looks at Chris again.
"Stay with him," he says again, firm even though it's obvious that the decision is killing him. "Keep him alive until I get back with help."
Chris nods, looking down at his paws--unable to meet Jensen's eyes--and crawls into the den as Jensen goes. Jared, his brain blurry and dissolving with fever, looks up through a haze at Chris as he comes through, and feels panic squeezing fist-like around his throat. "Chris? What--"
"Easy, Jay," Chris is saying over and over again, "easy, take it easy. It's gonna be okay. Take it easy."
As Jensen stops a few feet away, just staring at the den, Dean trots over looking concerned, bumping his nose against Jensen's shoulder.
"Do you need any help?"
Jensen shakes his head, eyes drifting from Dean to the rest of the pack.
"No," he says. "You've gotta look out for the others. I've gotta look out for my mate. It's my fault he's here to begin with and I'm going to make it right. Just... Chris is gonna stay with him, but if you could make sure to bring a portion of the hunts to him so he has something to eat while I'm gone, I would really be in debt to you, Dean. I don't know how I'd repay you, but I'd do anything you asked."
"You don't have to," Dean says, shaking his head before Jensen is even done. "Packmates don't owe each other favours. Just stay safe, all right?"
One last look and a grateful (albeit a little strained) smile shot Dean's way and Jensen's loping off into the woods, meeting the river and turning to follow it north, where Jeff had told him the humans might be. He doesn't know how far it is or if he'll even be able to get them here, but no matter what, he knows he has to try.