Fic: Eye of the Wolf, MasterPages, Green Cortina, Gen

[master_pages]

Title: Eye of the Wolf
Rating: Green Cortina (language and scary imagery)
Word count: 2,892
Notes: My first wolf!Gene story, based on fern_tree and little_cello's art for xysabridde's birthday. It's the gift that keeps on giving! xp I'm thinking we could use a supernatural tag for these. And for wing!fic and art. Just a thought.
Summary: Gene's acting weirder than usual... but Sam may be biting off a little more than he can chew when he decides to find out why.

“You don’t understand,” Gene said fiercely.

Knowing it was better to humor him than to fight him, Sam said, “What don’t I understand?”

“It’s a bloody full moon tonight, that’s what!”

“OK, and…?”

“And if we’re still in here when the moon rises, I’m going to kill you.”

Death wasn’t a new threat from Gene, but it was obviously one which he had never carried out, so Sam couldn’t worry over it much. “What’s so special about moonrise? Were you supposed to meet someone, or…”

“No! If only it were that simple!” Gene kicked the door of the holding cell angrily.

Sam leaned on the wall and folded his arms across his chest, thinking over the events of the evening. Gene had been acting strange lately-for Gene-and when he said he wasn’t going to the pub that night, Sam was extremely suspicious. He thought Gene must have a lead on their missing suspect, Michaels, which he intended to check out on his own. Like any good subordinate, Sam had followed him.

“Police. I need you to follow that car, but don’t stick right behind him. Don’t make it obvious.”

He was surprised when the cabbie followed Gene to another pub just outside town. He had the driver drop him off a little way down the street and tipped him generously before walking back.

The pub wasn’t particularly interesting-Sam couldn’t even remember its name later-and when he peeked in a window Gene didn’t seem to be talking to anyone at the bar. He was just sitting there, slowly making his way through a pint.

Sam hovered outside, keeping out of sight most of the time. It wasn’t dark out yet, so Gene might spot him through the window if he wasn’t careful.

It wasn’t until Gene was on his second beer that someone sat down next to him and Sam began paying closer attention. They seemed to be making light conversation, and there was no strong recognition that he could see, no camaraderie (nor rivalry), and nothing changing hands between them. This was very strange behavior for the DCI, to chat with a stranger for no apparent reason.

But then the conversation suddenly got very heated. The stranger looked offended. Then angry. Then Gene looked angry, too. Then Sam could actually hear their raised voices.

There’s going to be a fight, he thought, and he found himself walking briskly to the door.

The first punches were being thrown as he came inside. A couple of men jumped up to aid the stranger, and Sam rushed in to help even the score.

All was a confusion after that… he remembered Gene demanding what he was doing there and a lot of shouting and cursing and then the police arriving. The two CID officers being the only people in the pub who were not regulars, they were soon both accused of starting the whole thing.

“What?” Gene had asked, sounding shocked. “Him? You can’t take ‘im in-he’s a copper. Prob’ly here undercover. I started it.”

This was absurd… Sam knew Gene wanted him to go along with this story, perhaps because Gene was working an undercover angle himself, but Sam was still annoyed by Gene’s going off without him on some unknown errand, and he refused to cooperate.

“If he’s police, let’s see his badge,” a uniformed officer suggested.

Sam glanced at Gene and saw the latter glaring back at him. No. “It was a nice try, Gene, but they’ve got us.”

“He is!” Gene insisted. “Search ‘im-he’s got a badge. And if you don't find it right away, it's prob'ly in his pants.”

“Come off it,” Sam retorted. “It’s over. You know I haven’t got any badge to show them.”

“Take ‘em both away,” the officer in charge ordered.

Gene hadn’t spoken to him on the drive over, or when uniform confiscated their coats. In fact, he didn’t speak again until they learned that the local lockup was quite full at the time, and they would have to share a holding cell for the night.

“What?! No, you can’t do that…” Gene ranted a while; then, as the door shut on them, he said, “Wait. OK, I’ll level with you. The truth is, we’re both from CID. Our badges are in our coats. Just have a look an’ you’ll see.”

“You expect me to fall for that?” their warden asked scornfully. He laughed. “You two? CID? I don’t think so.”

“We’re from Manchester. Come back here, damn you!” Gene continued to shout for a while; then he started in on Sam with “Why couldn’t you show them your badge when you had the chance?!”

“What were you doin’ in that pub that you didn’t want me to know about?” Sam had retorted, rubbing his aching jaw where someone had struck him in the pub.

And so it had begun. Sam was surprised Gene hadn’t started adding to his injuries yet.

“You just couldn’t trust me!”

“Frankly, no. You made up some excuse about being tired and wanting to get to bed early tonight-that isn’t you! I can’t believe Ray fell for that.”

“So, instead of asking where I was really going, you followed me.”

“Would you have told me if I’d asked?”

“We’ll never know, will we?!”

“Just tell me what you were doing.”

Gene sat on the end of the cot against the wall. “Plan went perfectly, except for one thing: you.”

“And what was the plan?”

“Get myself thrown in lockup overnight.”

“What for? I mean, if I’d known you wanted that, I could have locked you up-be glad to!”

“Had to be where no one knew me. Case there was trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?”

Gene looked up at him darkly, studying him. “You remember chasing Michaels last month? We split up.”

“Yeah… you said you found him but he got away.”

“You remember he cut me?”

“You said it wasn’t that bad… looked like it bled a lot, though. You were pale as a ghost.”

“There’s things I didn’t tell you about that night, Sam.”

Sam looked around the sparse cell. “Well, it looks like we’re gonna have all night, so…”

“We haven’t got that long.” He sounded sure and urgent, a combination Sam didn’t like very much. “When I found ‘im… Michaels had begun to change.”

“Change how?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe. Thought it weren’t ‘im at first-he looked too big. Then ‘e turned an’ looked at me in the moonlight, and… god, Sam, you just wouldn’t believe it.”

“Try me.”

Gene rubbed his face and licked his lips, clearly reluctant to go on. “It was a face like a wolf, Sam. I could still tell it was him, but a minute later I wouldn’t have known ‘im. Don’t think ‘is own mother would o’ known ‘im. He’d sprouted thick hair all over an’ all, and his clothes were burstin’ at the seams.”

Sam’s eyes widened. He couldn’t help it. Was Gene out of his mind, or had he actually seen… a werewolf?

“I know what you’re thinkin’. I thought it too, more than once over the last month, but I know what I saw. He came at me. I fired at ‘im but I know it didn’t come close. Then ‘e was on me-bit my wrist so I dropped my gun. He ran off before I could pick it up.

“I couldn’t believe what I’d seen, an’ I knew you wouldn’t. So I kept it to myself. I thought… maybe I was wrong. Maybe it was just a big dog that attacked me an’ I got confused some way. But just in case, I came up with this plan. Been workin’ on it all month. Should have realized you’d be too bloody clever.”

“So…” Sam swallowed. “You think that when the moon comes up, you’re going to turn into a… a wolf?”

“Maybe I’m wrong, and believe me, I hope I am… ‘cause I might find you annoying and maddening at times, but I don’t actually want you dead.”

“Well, er… even if you do, um… transform… well, who’s to say you won’t be able to control yourself? Maybe you’ll just…”

“Sam.” Gene shook his head. “If you’d seen what I’d seen…”

“But he didn’t kill you. He just wanted to get away.”

“Maybe. Maybe he didn’t know what he was doing. Maybe he just wanted to nip anyone he could find… an’ maybe he’s got enough experience that he’s learned to control it… might have been dealing with this for years, y’know?”

“Well, there’s no point in giving me up for dead yet,” Sam reasoned, still not sure he believed anything would happen at all.

“No… you’re right. We need some sort of plan.” Gene stood up and moved the cot into a corner, tipping it on its side. “Flimsy thing,” he muttered. “Might be better than nothin’. You can crouch behind that.”

“Guv…”

“It’d be better if we had something to tie my hands with. I know.” Gene began unbuttoning his shirt.

“Er…” If nothing happens, this is going to be… so awkward. So silly. Sam couldn’t help smiling a little. Oh, I can’t ever let this go. It’d be too cruel to tell the others about it, but… it’ll make excellent blackmail material.

“What you smirking at, Gladys? Tie my hands.”

Sam did his best to sober his expression and went over to Gene. He took Gene’s shirt and tied one sleeve around his left wrist, doubling the knot securely. Then he tied the other sleeve around his right wrist, the rest of the shirt hanging down behind Gene’s legs.

“That’s not very… immobilizin’,” Gene pointed out.

“Not for you. But it’d be a very awkward position for a wolf.”

“S’pose so.”

Sam jumped up toward the tiny window at the top of the back wall and grasped the bars there. His wrists scraped against the window ledge but he held on, scrabbling against the wall with his boots and hoisting himself up to look outside. “It’s a bit cloudy,” he grunted. “Can see a couple of stars. Don’t think the moon’s out… no, wait. There it is. Wow, it looks huge.” His arms were starting to shake. He dropped back down to the floor, slumping against the wall before he regained his balance. “Well, it’s up, so if you haven’t started to change by now… Gene?”

Gene was hunched over, arms pressed against his middle as if he’d eaten something that didn’t agree with him.

“Gene… you OK?” Sam took a step toward him.

“Stay back!” Gene warned, and his voice sounded ragged, like a snarl.

Sam halted, but he stood his ground. I’m not going to get scared over nothing.

But it clearly wasn’t nothing. Gene had begun to tremble from head to toe. His eyes looked dark and empty. His whole face looked dark in the glow from outside the cell bars.

Sam swallowed. He remembered Gene describing Michaels’s face and a shiver ran down his spine. Oh, god… what if he’s right?

Then Gene seemed to expand in front of him, growing a little taller, a little leaner, a lot stronger. The prolonged creak of tearing cloth sounded through the cell as Gene’s clothes fell away to reveal thick, fast-growing hair. Gene was grunting in what seemed like considerable pain. Claws shot out of his fingertips and he flung his arms forward with an almighty growl, shredding the shirt that was supposed to bind him.

It was this sudden action that sent Sam stumbling back to sit against the wall, covering his ears with his hands. Wake up, he told himself. This is too weird, even for you. Gene can’t be a werewolf.

But Gene continued to change, and oh yes, he could. A few terrifying moments later, Sam would never have known Gene. His own mother wouldn’t have known him.

I’m sorry I didn’t believe you... please don’t kill me. I have to live long enough to tell you… I’m sorry.

Gene was all wolf now-an awe- and terror-inspiring tawny beast shuddering on all fours. He stumbled a few steps to the side of the cell and paused to gasp in huge breaths which he huffed out again inches from the floor, sending dust and grit away in frightened little clouds. Then he put his paws against the wall and walked forward with his hind feet, rearing his head back higher and higher until the tiny square of moonlight from the back window touched his face. His massive jaws parted and he uttered the most chilling sound Sam had ever heard in his life.

“Gene,” Sam all but squeaked, “come down.”

The face looked feral now, rather than empty, as Gene looked down at him like a hawk regarding a field mouse.

“It-it’s me. It’s Sam.” He had forgotten all about using the cot to shield himself-it probably wouldn’t have done any good anyway. “Please,” he whispered. “Try… try to control it. You’re always so sure of yourself-you can’t forget who you are now.”

Gene pushed off the wall, and when he landed on the floor again Sam actually thought he felt a tremor run through the stones. The werewolf lowered his head and crept toward Sam, sniffing.

“It’s just me,” Sam went on, hoping Gene would at least remember his voice. “I don’t mean any harm… Look, I haven’t got anything.” He put his hands out, palms-up.

Gene’s enormous ears flicked back for a moment; then he snuffled in Sam’s direction again.

“It’s OK. Stay calm. It’s OK.”

Something between a growl and a sigh came from low in Gene’s throat. Sam kept up his stream of words, hoping desperately that it would keep him alive. The wolfish eyes seemed to pierce Sam’s and they stared for what seemed like a long time, Sam nervously, Gene intently.

At last, Gene turned away and stalked up to the overturned cot. He pawed at the limp mattress until it slid out onto the floor; then he curled up on its end, facing Sam with his cold stare. His hindquarters hung off the mattress’s side onto the floor.

Sam drew his knees up and put his arms around them, trembling all over. Don’t go into shock, Sam. You’re alive. You’re not even hurt. Stay calm. He stared back at Gene, unable to look away.

Eventually, his trembling died down into simple shivering. Gene’s eyelids were drooping, but he was still awake. “Gene?” Sam said softly.

The eyelids flew back and the gaze focused again.

“Sorry, it’s just… it’s cold in here. I’m cold. I can’t sleep like this. Could I…” He carefully shifted toward Gene in an excruciatingly slow crawl. “Could I just… sleep on the other side, there?” He glanced at the empty end of the mattress and then looked back at Gene’s furry face.

Gene lifted his head an inch or two as Sam went closer, nose beginning to sniff again, eyes looking dangerous again.

Sam had much more experience with cats than dogs, but his instinct was telling him he would be safer to approach Gene’s tail than his head. However, whatever he knew about animals didn’t necessarily apply here. He was convinced that Gene remembered him at least a little, or he should have been attacked by now.

He paused at the foot of the mattress and took a few steadying breaths. “I just want a place to sleep, that’s all,” he murmured. “I’m cold, an’ I bet you are, too. I’m not gonna try anything.”

It was impossible to tell if Gene disapproved of Sam’s approach. Only his eyes moved, flicking back and forth from Sam’s eyes to his hands as they came up onto the mattress and crept toward him. Sam froze again when Gene stretched his neck out to sniff Sam’s scratched wrists. The cold, wet nose tickled, but Sam managed to keep still. Finally the great head dropped back onto the folded forepaws.

“That’s it,” Sam said softly. “Everything’s fine.” He sat by Gene’s ribcage and gingerly reached out to touch his shoulder.

Gene lifted his head again, staring at the hand resting in his fur.

After a moment of this, Sam said, “I’m not bein’ ‘Dorothy.’ I’m just cold.”

Apparently satisfied, Gene lowered his head once more.

Sam carefully lowered himself against Gene’s flank, marveling at the softness of his fur. “Here we go… keep us both warm, eh?” He didn’t put his head down until he saw Gene’s eyes close. Then he nestled in on his side, hands resting in front of him, the fingers of one twining into the thick, warm coat. “Thanks, Guv. Good night.”

He was barely still on the edge of consciousness when he felt a squirming under him and something draping over his waist. A quick, sleepy glance told him Gene had curled up tighter and brought his tail up to keep his nose warm, dropping it over Sam in the process. Too tired to place any significance on it, Sam closed his eyes again.

Next time… I’ll ask you directly instead of following you. Next time, I hope you can trust me. After this, you bloody well should.

Just before he fell asleep, one more thought flitted merrily through his mind. What on earth will we tell them about your clothes in the morning?