After

Morgan frowned, chewing his bottom lip as he examined Charlie's back.

It really did look awful - Dan was no doctor, but he didn't like to see the black tinge at the edge of those cuts.

It made him hurt just to look at them, but Charlie didn't seem bothered. In fact, he seemed considerably more lively since his shower.

His nephew had laid out plenty of gauze, instruments, kidney dishes, disinfectant, and other things Dan failed to recognize on the kitchen table. He sat on one chair and Charlie straddled another, his back towards Morgan, his chest against the backrest, arms slung over it.

This kitchen was from the seventies like most of the house, brown and green and lit with yellow lighting. Morgan had directed a spotlight - well, a bright reading light - at Charlie's back.

The rest of them - Dan, Ronan, Darren, and Justin - had collected on the L-shaped old leather couch and beat-up armchairs, supposedly watching a game. However, it was proving difficult to ignore the scene at the kitchen table.

Justin had given up and was openly watching his mate, while Darren flinched at every other sound. Only Ronan seemed completely at ease.

"So what happened?" Morgan asked softly.

"I got clawed by a mountain lion."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I was sleeping in my wolf shape, and I guess it saw an easy meal. The next thing I knew it was on top of me. I didn't even think, just shifted. Guess that scared it off.

"It was close to the dark of the moon so it was really easy to change into human form, but my healing was shitty. I tried to clean it, 'course, but couldn't reach properly, and every time I shifted it opened up again... Soon enough the fever set in, and I knew it was serious."

"It does look pretty serious. I can see some subcutaneous tissue here and there, but at least none of your bones are bared. There seems to be some necrotic tissue as well... Let's start by cleaning it properly, and then we can decide how to proceed... I'll apply a local anaesthetic now."

"Don't bother. Just... Get on with it."

Morgan raised his eyebrows and Charlie picked up his hoodie from the floor by his feet and tucked it in between his chest and the chair.

He stuffed one black sleeve into his mouth, then turned around and gave Morgan a thumbs up.

Poor Morgan, Dan thought. He already looked pale, but determined. His hands were steady as he set to work, furrowing his brow.

He poured disinfectant onto the wounds, making Charlie press his forehead into the wooden back of the chair he was straddling. He hugged it tight but otherwise stayed still.

Morgan used tweezers to lift the scabs carefully and wiped up the pale yellow pus leaking out. Finally he squeezed and wiped the long claw marks with gauze, dabbing them with more disinfectant and then saline, rinsing and cleaning them.

Charlie bit hard onto the fabric in his mouth, quivering but silent. Dan was impressed; it looked damn painful.

When the wounds were free of scabs and pus and bleeding gently, Charlie spit out his gag and relaxed against the chair.

He panted slightly, sweat glistening on his face.

"Well done," Morgan said, his voice shaking slightly. "Um, Charlie...the tissue at the edges of your sutures is necrotic...I mean those flaps at the edges of your wounds are still black - that flesh is dead -"

"Cut it off."

"Wh-What?"

Charlie spoke without lifting his head. "Sharp debridement. You and I both know what's dead is dead. It's got to go. So just take a scalpel and - "

Morgan sat still, frozen. Justin studied his face, leaning forward. It looked as if he was about to go over to him, but then Charlie turned around in his seat.

He cradled the other wolf's hand in both of his slim ones, catching his eyes with those irresistible hazel ones, and speaking softly with his expressive voice.

"It'll be okay, Morgan. I know you can do this." He smiled sweetly, a smile that made Dan's breath catch in his throat.

"I trust you."

Dan's nephew blushed beet red. Letting go of his hand, Charlie turned around again. He did not put the cloth back into his mouth.

Morgan mounted a sterilised scalpel blade on a handle, taking a deep breath. Dan noticed Justin frowning and nudged him with his elbow.

"Go over there, man. He needs you."

As Justin took the chair next to Morgan's, the young vet student was just touching his blade to the red, swollen edge of one of the claw marks. Justin squeezed his shoulder and looked over at Charlie.

"So how long had you been up there, Charlie? In the Rockies?" he asked.

The tip of the blade sunk in, almost like cutting through butter. Dan could see dark red blood welling up. He heard Charlie stifle a gasp.

"'Bout seven months."

"As a wolf?"

"Yeah, mostly. I mean, at the dark of the moon I would turn human."

"Didn't you miss anything?" Morgan asked softly.

"Sure I did."

"Like what?" Darren called over.

"Sex, booze, and cigarettes. What else is there?" he retorted.

Darren snorted and Charlie's head lolled back, his eyes becoming unfocused for a moment. He was being way too honest...

"Well... there's family," Morgan murmured.

"No family."

"Everyone has someone," Ronan said. "What about your parents?"

"No parents."

"What about friends?"

"More trouble than they're worth. Ah, fuck!"

"And your pack?"

"Never - gah! - had a pack. Never wanted one."

"Why?" Ronan asked, looking away from the TV.

"I don't like taking orders."

"What happened to your folks? Who were they?"

"What is this, an interrogation? Well, it's your lucky day...I seem to have become absolutely incapable of keeping my mouth shut...damn fever..." he muttered.

"Suppose I can only hope you don't start asking the right questions, huh? Jesus! No, shit, sorry Morgan. Keep going, don't mind me... My mom was a mix of Irish and Slavic immigrants. I think my dad was Creole but I never met him."

"He walked out? Was he a werewolf?"

"Could'a been. Look, my mom was so high that night she couldn't remember how many guys she slept with, let alone which ones. Her dad split when she was a kid though, so for all I know he could have been the wolf. Aah..."

"So you grew up among humans?" He seemed to take Kit's silence as agreement. "Why did you go up there, then? Into the mountains? It's not like you wandered off and got lost..."

"I guess...I just didn't want to be human anymore."

His head was resting against his forearms, eyes closed. The room fell silent.

Dan saw him sitting there, brow furrowed slightly with pain, and thought about the words he'd said and the open, unapologetic way he'd said them. He felt his heart contract as if for the first time, a hum sounding in his ears. He flinched.

Something in Charlie's face changed. It relaxed, and he sighed. Morgan was still cutting, blood still tricking down, but the small youth was no longer tensing up. Ronan tensed in his seat, sniffing the air.

Charlie bit his bottom lip, squeezing the chair between his legs, and his scent changed. Dan picked up a faint trace of it. It smelled like...Arousal. Oh. Oh.

Kit felt the sharp tip of the scalpel slice into the tender, swollen skin on the edge of his wounds. Pain was building inside him - cleaning the wounds had been nearly more than he could take - but soon...

A scale tipped inside of Kit, turning pain into pleasure in one stroke. He almost moaned aloud before stopping himself, feeling his cock harden against the front of his jeans.

His thin, bare shoulders trembled, slick with sweat and the water still dripping from his hair.

Morgan cut him again and this time the pain was sharp and sweet, very similar to the sensation of his climax building. Kit bit down on his hoodie again, panting hard.

He did not care that the other wolves were most certainly able to smell his arousal - he was too far gone. The adrenaline shot from earlier was wearing off, leaving him dizzy.

Kit could feel warm blood trickling down his back, more of it now. His body shook from exhaustion, hunger, and blood-loss. He shuddered when that piercing pain came again, making him moan through the fabric in his mouth.

You're really losing it now, kid.

Oh God. Wasn't it over soon? Did he want it to be over? He mashed his prick into the backrest in front of him, glad no-one could see his hard-on with the way he was sitting.

He heard Morgan drop something wet into a kidney dish and a tingle raced up his spine, half glad and half disappointed.

"Th-That should do it," Morgan said, sounding strained, ready to break. "Now we just have to close them..."

"Can you stitch 'em?" Charlie asked and Dan saw Morgan press gauze into the wounds, cheeks red.

Even Dan could smell some of the thick scent of arousal spreading through the room. Wafting out from the small werewolf tied to a kitchen chair. What the Hell was going on? He saw Darren shifting out of the corner of his eye, covering his nose and dragging a pillow over his lap.

"Put pressure on it!" Morgan shouted, and the others flinched, staring at him. "It's bleeding too quickly, I won't have time to stitch it before - I can't apply pressure evenly, it's too deep and uneven, it's - "

"Then we'll have to cauterise it," Charlie wheezed.

"What! No! It increases risk of infection, it's dangerous and painful and - "

"I'm bleeding to death here... You can't bring me to a hospital, right?"

"There's none within an hours drive, and you're a werewolf... Justin!"

"Yes?"

"Get me the iron from the shed. For disbudding, the one with the gas bottle attached. Hurry!"

Justin ran.

"I don't have an electrocauter, sorry. And I can't use a lunar caustic because the silver nitrate would poison you - I only have an iron my parents used for disbudding calves. You know, burning their horns when they're small so that they never grow out."

"It'll do," Charlie whispered. He looked pale, as if he was about to faint.

"What's a...whatchamacallit?" Darren asked.

"Cauter," Charlie answered, sounding tired. He reached down into his bag, rummaging around.

"A hot object can burn a wound shut. You've probably seen it in movies. That's what we're gonna do."

He fished out two long, clear cable ties.

"You're gonna what?!"

"It's ready, Charlie." Justin passed Morgan a black metal rod attached to a grey gas cylinder with a rubber tube.

"Just a minute." He slipped the cable ties around his wrists and the top of the chair's backrest, pulling them tight with his teeth.

"Okay, I'm ready. Just cut me loose after, yeah?"

Morgan looked at the plastic straps tying his wrists. "Why did you -"

"My body's not in great shape. And I'm loosing blood and getting dizzy... Actually, I might seize once you start burning me. Dan!"

Dan flinched. "Yes?"

"Get over here. Put your hands on my shoulders and hold me still."

He did as he was told, putting some of his weight on those frail-looking shoulders, ignoring how slick and smooth the skin was, and the fact that Charlie's face was now level with Dan's crotch.

Then he caught sight of the young man's back and all other thoughts fled.

"You...won't you get scars?" he asked.

Charlie lifted his head from his bound wrists and grinned up at him, making Dan's heart speed up.

"A man should have a few scars. I don't mind. Now, Morgan... Even if I pass out, don't stop, okay? You have to close the cuts properly. After that you can just toss me in a corner somewhere."

"We won't...of course we won't toss you in a corner!"

"Great. Then, whenever you're ready..."

Dan pressed down on his shoulders as Morgan lifted the metal rod, now glowing orange.

When he pressed it against Charlie's skin and started moving it down the first of the four claw marks, blood sizzled and the smell of burning flesh reached Dan's nose. Charlie's back arched and his head flew back, eyes wide open and staring blankly at Dan.

"Aaahhh..." He moaned, collapsing against his binds, body limp.

"Damn it," Morgan swore. "Hold him, Dan."

"Holy shit."

For once Dan had to agree with his brother. All the wolves stared down at the small form, limp in the chair. Only Morgan remained focused, concentrating on his task. Smoke drifted up from Charlie's back, stinging Dan's eyes.

"I'm almost done, Dan. Get ready to catch him when I cut him loose."

Dan moved to support Charlie's weight while Morgan placed his scalpel and forceps on the table and cut through the cable ties with a pair of scissors.

"Please put him on the couch face down. I can dress the wounds there."

Dan lifted him gently. Damn, he was light. He carried him against his own chest like a small child, careful not to touch his back.

Charlie's sleeping face was angelic, his breath soft against Dan's shoulder. The Beta laid him out on top of a clean towel and watched Morgan bandage the burns, covering them with some kind of jelly and taping disinfectant gauze to them.

Finally Morgan covered Charlie's lower body with a blanket and sat back. Everyone breathed a sigh.

"Now what?" Darren said.

Now that his back was bandaged it no longer drew Dan's full attention. He spotted a raised, wide, dark-pink scar on the outside of Charlie's right arm. And something white peeking out from underneath his dark curls...

"Should we...search his bag?" Justin asked.

"That would be a violation of his personal integrity," Dan said firmly. "We would need a warrant." His eyes never left Charlie's sleeping face.

"This isn't exactly by the books already, is it, Dan?" Darren snapped. "Plus, I'd be damned surprised if he goes to the police. What do you say, Ronan?"

Ronan looked thoughtful. "For now, I don't think we need to go that far. Let's talk to him a bit more in the morning. Darren, bring his bag over here and put it beside him for when he wakes up."

Darren leaned over and grabbed the bag's shoulder strap, groaning.

"Catch." He swung it towards Ronan and let go.

The canvas bag flew in an arc and hit the side of the couch next to Morgan.

"Jesus, Darren!"

Darren smirked but then his gaze traveled down, smug expression slipping from his face. He whistled softly.

"Would you look at that," he whispered.

And then Dan saw it too, his stomach sinking. It had fallen out of Charlie's bag when it hit the couch and lay gleaming on the worn carpet, unmistakable.

A silver-coloured 9 mm Smith & Wesson.