Prodigal | J2 AU NC-17 | Chapter 5

[fufaraw]

Chapter 5

Sherri Padalecki made it clear that Jensen was welcome in their home anytime, so on some of the hotter days, he hung out with Jared and Chad in the basement, playing video games that were new to him, and a few old ones he was familiar with, and raiding the fridge. Jared's mom didn't mind. The basement was cool—not the decor, which was a little shabby standard rec room, but when the sun was blazing outside, the Padaleckis' basement was a cool haven to retreat to. But when the shadows lengthened and the July heat slackened in the late afternoons, most days found Jensen at the stadium, working on Trevor's mural.

"You planning on an art career, Trev?" Jensen was cutting in the edges of hill and sky with a brush, careful and neat.

"I'd like to. My folks don't really think much of it, I think they'd rather I was an accountant, or something. But art is what I love." Trevor's focus was on wielding his own brush higher on the sketched hill, standing on the ladder. "I'm planning to major in art at college. I want to tour Europe, visit the museums: the British Museum of Modern art and the National Gallery, the Louvre, the Uffizi Gallery, museums in different countries, each one famous for a style of art." He stroked another careful brushful of green onto the wall. "Imagine a whole summer immersed in all those images—sculpture too, though I doubt I'll ever have a talent for three-dimensional creations."

He continued as he painted, detailing his favorite works by various artists, obviously seeing more in pictures on a wall than Jensen himself had ever seen, or even thought about. Jensen smiled as he worked, enjoying Trev's enthusiasm, and encouraging him with a question or comment now and then.

*    *    *

As Jensen spent more time with his new friends, he was also distancing himself from his dad. Alan understood it was normal for kids Jensen's age to reach out to peers, rather than parents. But he couldn't help the regret for the time that was stolen from them.

Alan had bought the house Donna showed him. It was a nice house, and Alan had an eye on the separate garage. With a little elbow grease and a few added dormers and windows, the attic area could be converted into a nice little bachelor pad for when Jensen came to visit. Of course he kept those plans to himself for now, but all in all, Edenville seemed like a nice place, actually a small city, and considerably larger than Wolverton. Tim had assured him there was a sizeable number of wolves there, well integrated into the population. They would all help keep an eye on Mackenzie, while refraining from revealing themselves to Donna.

On Tim's advice, Alan didn't advertise the house he owned for sale. It was prudent, Omundson said, not to appear to be changing residence before they were actually ready to move, in case Fenris pack was watching, and followed them to the new place. Plans to move went ahead, largely orchestrated by Tim and his men. Things were packed and moved in increments, using appliance and furniture delivery trucks, painters' and plumbers' vans, and the ruse of remodeling the house to "get rid of old furniture" to make room for the new.

Alan felt guilty and upset that such strategies had to be in place. The Fenris alphas had destroyed his family's lives when they had taken Jensen. Not only had they ripped him away from his family, school, and the childhood that still had been his, but they'd torn a part of their family away, left a hole that, at least in Donna's case, could never be mended. He watched his son, tall and broad-shouldered and so close to being an adult, walk away with Lee at his side. Lee and Hugo were guards, yes, but also becoming friends, and Alan felt his own usefulness in Jensen's life fading. Between the alpha guards, Principal Beaver, and even Tim, Jensen was surrounded with a lot of father figures, all of whom had a better handle on how Jensen was supposed to live now in the world, as wolf, as were.

*    *    *

Jensen had been on contraceptives and suppressants for a few weeks, still adjusting and getting used to the hormonal balancing. Dr. Speight had him come in for a checkup. While he was in the waiting room, Jensen overheard part of a conversation between two other omegas also in the waiting room. One of them was sobbing, and through the garbled words, Jensen understood that the omega was devastated at a diagnosis of an untreatable condition. The only cure was a hysterectomy. The omega was distraught, despite the comfort offered by his companion. Jensen's name was called, though, before he was able to hear any more.

His mind was in turmoil. Doc Speight had told him there was no permanent way to make sure he would never have heats, or get pregnant. He needed to know why the doc didn't tell him about this procedure. When the doctor smiled and asked, "So, how have you been, Jensen?"

What Jensen said was, "Can I get a hysterectomy?"

Speight looked poleaxed, so much so that he sank into the nearest chair while he stared at Jensen. "Why on earth would you ask that?"

"Is it possible?" Jensen pressed.

"No." The response was unequivocal. And then, "That procedure is only done as a last resort, to save the life of someone whose organs are diseased, or damaged, and beyond saving."

"But it can be done," Jensen insisted. "You can remove everything—I can live without heats, without the threat of pregnancy."

"Jensen." Speight cut him short. "You are doing that, right now. You have the contraceptive implant—it's 99% effective in preventing pregnancy. And your heat suppressants work, once we find the right dosage. You can avoid heats and decide when and if you want to get pregnant."

"What happens if I can't get to a doctor when my implant runs out? What if I lose my pills—what if somebody takes them away from me?"

"Jensen, you are so overreacting--"

Jensen was still on his feet, rocking a few times before he began pacing the width of the small exam room and back. "Have you been kidnapped?" he demanded. "Raped? Impregnated against your will, over and over again?"

"Jensen—" the doctor tried to calm the young omega.

"Have you?"

"No, Jensen, of course not."

"No. So how do you have any idea what that's like? What was done to me? You have no idea what I would do to stop that ever happening to me again." He stopped pacing, stepped closer and actually loomed a little over the seated beta. "Tell me how I can have this done!"

Speight took a breath, calmed himself and, scooting his chair back a few inches, stood up. Jensen was taller, but the doctor had a beta's calm demeanor and sense of perspective. He could see the kid was starting to tremble, and he moved slowly and put a hand on his shoulder, turning him toward the exam table and getting him to sit down.

"Jensen, I can't know first-hand what was done to you. But I do know what you went through. I know what it's cost you to fight your way back to being the person you are now, and watching you, knowing you, is an honor, believe me. I know how much you want this, and, almost, I wish I could make it possible."

He stepped away and got a cup of water for the boy, put it in his trembling hand.

"But I can't. Hysterectomy is reserved for medical reasons. And there are laws."

The kid looked up at that, a question in his expression.

"Not every alpha is a good guy. You're well aware of this."

There was a slight snort of agreement, and Speight went on. "Sometimes, for example, when a couple mates early, as they mature, they grow apart. Mates are for life, you know." He paused, and Jensen nodded. "But if an omega becomes infertile, for any reason, the mate bond can be broken."

The trembling had stopped now, as Jensen listened to the doctor. "And some unscrupulous alphas have used that 'for any reason' to justify sterilizing an omega they were tired of, in order to claim a newer, younger model."

Jensen's features twisted in disgust. "That's—"

"Horrible, unfair, and now, against the law. That's why the procedure can only be done for medical reasons, for conditions that can't be treated or cured by other means."

Jensen finished his water, and heaved a big sigh.

"I'm sorry, kiddo. I know it stinks, in your case. But that's where we are."

The boy nodded. "Okay. Thanks for telling me. I had to ask."

"I know." Speight clapped him on the shoulder and then pulled the stethoscope from where it was draped around his neck. "You okay enough now we can check you over?"

* * *

Alan left a couple of days a week, at first, to help Donna and Mack unpack and set up the house. A few times, he stayed overnight, or two nights. But he returned feeling guilt at having left Jensen alone. Once back in Wolverton, he had to admit he felt out of place—he was the only human in town, or the only one he knew of. He missed his girls. He didn't seem able to settle. Telecommuting for the job was working fine, but he couldn't seem to keep his mind on work. He talked to Donna and Mack on the phone, and he knew Mack called Jensen sometimes to catch up, and she told him about the new house, the new school she'd be starting. She talked to Alan about those things, too. Donna said she missed Alan and wished he was with them. She asked how Jensen was doing, but she didn't ask to speak with their son. Alan hated to admit it but he suspected she was trying to gauge how much less dependent he was becoming on his dad, rather than how Jensen himself was doing.

Jensen spent most of his time with Jared, sometimes Chad and Jared, and often with Trevor. He worked with Trevor on painting the mural on the stadium wall, and sometimes Jared and Chad helped, too. Jensen was still uncomfortable, even fearful, of being alone. Lee and Hugo still guarded him, from more of a distance, and sometimes Jensen sought them out to talk, and seemed to find some reassurance and a sense of security in their presence. And whenever Alan was out of town, he stayed with Jim Beaver. Alan talked to the principal, and was assured that Jensen wasn't imposing. He'd been asked to stay, and he was welcome whenever he wanted to come.

*    *    *

Back from a weekend at the new house, and telling Jensen about installing shelving in the garage, Alan caught a wistful expression on Jensen's face, quickly hidden.

"Jensen? Would you—do you want to see the new house?"

The kid's features shifted unreadably for a second, before the wistful look was back.

"Nah, it’s okay," he said, and then, reluctantly, "but—before the old house is gone." His eyes flickered a pleading look. "Is my old room still there? Has Mom—did she get rid of all my old stuff?"

Alan sighed, and pulled his kid in with an arm around his shoulders, kissed the top of his head. "Your Mom," he told him. "Made a shrine out of your room. She dusted, and we were allowed to go in, if we wanted. But she didn't want us messing with your things, or taking things from the room."

Jensen searched his face. "Is it still there?"

"As far as I know," Alan told him. "I don't think she's packed it up, or anything. Tell you what, I can call her, and see. You want me to do that?"

Jensen leaned a little heavier against him before pulling away. "I thought about it, so much. So often. I'd see it in my mind. It meant—safety. I'd go away, go back there, so I didn't have to think—" His voice choked a little, and he stopped, took a breath. "I'd... I'd really like to see it again before the house is gone, if I could. And—if they're still there, there are some things I'd like to have."

When Alan started to speak, Jensen went on, "Yeah, I know. Kid stuff. But it meant a lot to me. And now," he sniffed, and wiped at the wetness on his face. "I'd just like to have a few minutes there. For the last time." He looked up then at his dad. "Sometime when Mom and Mack are at the new place."

There was a twinge in Alan's heart, and he nodded. "I get it. I'll call her, tell her to leave it alone, whatever state it's in." Alan reached for him again, another quick hug, and release. "And I'll get hold of Tim, and ask him about you making a quick visit. He's been pretty insistent about keeping things looking normal while Mom and Mack pack up and move. I'll tell him how important it is to you, and maybe we can smuggle you in for a few minutes under a hat and some shades." He grinned a little. "Okay?"

And Jensen gave him a lopsided grin back. "Yeah, okay. Thanks, Dad."

*    *    *

Beaver was very impressed at the progress Jensen made over the summer. The school year began in a week, and Jensen would be starting his senior year—his original graduating class. Jensen was proud of himself, his hard work, and what he'd managed to achieve, with the help and guidance of Beaver himself, Jared, Lee, Hugo, and even Chad. He was eager for school—but he was anxious, too. He really didn't know how things were going to go in a new school, with all new people. And add to that, the social ranking of alphas, betas, and omegas that he had no experience with and no real idea how to negotiate in a public setting. He was trying really hard not to freak out, and he was glad his Dad seemed to be sticking around, at least for the first week or so of school. He needed the moral support.

*    *    *

"Well really, I hadn't given it much thought at all. I was just going to call someone from a charity to come pack it all up. It's just toys and boy's things..." Alan heard the catch in his wife's voice, but he allowed her to maintain the indifferent facade.

"Leave it alone," he told her. "You can have somebody remove it after the weekend." She didn't ask why.

Alan had talked to Tim, who didn't seem especially sympathetic with Jensen's desire to see his home, his room, one more time before it was sold to strangers. But Omundson took another look at the father's face, and conceded the point. If they were unobtrusive and careful, there shouldn't be a problem.

Lee drove the exterminator's van, and he, Alan, and Jensen all wore uniforms and hats. Lee went to "inspect" the exterior of the house, the foundations, and Alan and Jensen went inside, ostensibly to check the basement.

Jensen stopped just inside the door and Alan had to brush past him to get into the room and get the door closed. The living room was empty. The entertainment center with the TV, the shelves of movies and games, was gone. Alan's recliner, the sofa where Jensen sprawled to play video games, the coffee table where he and his friends had snacks, and Jensen and Mack did their homework, Donna's favorite armchair, with the standing lamp that shed a soft glow to read by—all gone. Even the dog bed in the corner. The dining room through the French doors was empty, too, and the table where they all dropped their keys, the mail, and notes for each other, was missing from the hall. The row of hooks mounted to a sturdy oak board, for coats and hats and scarves—all that was left were a few nail holes in the drywall.

Jensen took it all in, then moved toward the kitchen, where the counters were clean and bare, and the fridge was unplugged and quiet. The boy lifted the curtain on the half-glassed back door and peered out into the back yard, with its slope at the end where they had sledded in winter, where the soccer goal had stood, and the trampoline. There were a few professionally tended flowers in neat beds, but no real signs of habitation. Alan stood back and let his son process, and finally, Jensen turned down the hall toward the bedroom that had been his since he was brought home from the hospital as an infant.

The door was shut, and he reached out and turned the knob, breathing out in a half-sob when he saw his familiar things in their usual places, all around the room.

"Take your time, son," Alan gripped his shoulder briefly, and then turned to go back to wait in the kitchen.

The same old Star Wars coverlet dressed the bed, the bookshelf headboard held his miniature At-At walker, his Optimus Prime Transformer, and a dozen scruffy paperback books. He went through them, glad to see them and welcoming how familiar they felt in his hands. But a glance at the titles assured him that he didn't need to keep any of them. He opened the nightstand drawer and made a face at the years-old opened bag of Skittles and half-eaten rolls of Lifesavers, a half-empty pack of gum, along with a few baseball cards, a note from Shelley Moore he'd been thrilled to find pushed through the slots in his locker door. He grinned a little and shrugged as he dropped the note in his wastebasket.

Pens, a mechanical pencil, a half-worked book of crossword puzzles. And nothing else. He slipped off the bed and knelt to look under the bed. Boxes of comics—he didn't want them, but somebody might. He pulled those out and left them on the bed. The dresser drawers held outgrown t-shirts, jeans, sweats, underwear and socks, and nothing else. Shirts and dress pants and jackets hung in his closet. A couple of baseball bats leaned in the corner, his glove on top of them. He knelt again, pushing aside the pairs of dress shoes, snow boots, and sneakers to pull out a small cardboard trunk. He lifted its lid, and inside was a thin stack of papers—short stories he had begun and abandoned, a half-dozen guitar picks, a couple of books of matches, and a smaller cardboard box. Inside it were seven green plastic army men, molded in different poses, carrying different weapons. There were a few loose coins—Canadian, German, from Bobby Unger's summer visit to relatives in Nurnberg, and Mexican, from Herve's stay with his grandparents. There were a few birthday cards, from his parents, from Mack, from his grandmother. He left everything in the trunk, stood and backed out of the closet and tucked the trunk under his arm. He pushed the closet door shut and reached into the corner of the room and picked up his guitar. A birthday present a couple of months before he was taken, he'd not had a chance to learn to play it. It was the only other thing he wanted to keep.

He took a last glance around the room where he'd grown up, secure in the midst of his family, then reached to the headboard and picked up Optimus Prime and dropped him into the trunk with the other things. Then he turned around and walked away. Lee wrapped the guitar in a blanket so its outline wasn't recognizeable, and carried it out to the van. Alan took the trunk, and they left the house, Alan testing the lock when he closed the door. Jensen didn't look back as they drove away.

*    *    *

School started. Jared came by Ms. Abbott's the first day and walked with Jensen to school. He was already registered and signed up for classes, thanks to Mr. Beaver, so he headed off to his first class, hoping everything would go okay. It went pretty well.

For the most part, the classwork was hard enough to be challenging, but not dauntingly difficult. Jensen participated, a little, in class. Otherwise, he kept his head down, avoided eye contact, and tried to go unnoticed. He was an attractive kid, though, and had the novelty of being new, so the other students did notice him. Most of them had heard at least part of his history, so while they were friendly, for the most part, they were understanding enough to not push him to be outgoing.

The senior alphas noticed him too, though they didn't approach or try to talk to him, though they did point him out to the handful of Sons who hung out with them outside of school. Jared, Jim, and Chad all kept an eye on him during school hours. Afterward, Jensen met Trevor at the stadium almost every day to work on the mural. Jared and Chad usually hung out with them, too.

The Sons made note that the two omegas were there most days, and started coming by with some of the senior alphas to tease and intimidate them. Though that didn't happen as much when Jared or Jared and Chad were there. Lee and Hugo kept a sharp eye on the Sons, and reported their behavior to Tim, and to Ty, and Beaver.

*    *    *

Tim asked Alan to drop by his office one afternoon for a talk. Mayor Rhodes, Dr. Ferris, and Jim Beaver were already there when Alan arrived, and he took the offered seat with some apprehension.

"Alan, it's good to see you," Tim said. "Jim's been telling us how well Jensen's adjusting in school. He seems to be settling in, making friends. Right, Jim?"

Beaver nodded, met Alan eye to eye. "He's doing real well," he told Jensen's father. "He seems to be making some friends, coming out of his shell a little bit. I think school's really good for him right now."

"He's probably glad to be in a school environment," Kim added. "Kids his own age, less dependent on the grown-ups in his life."

"Jensen's had some rough circumstances," Alan was quick to defend Jensen. "It's understandable he depends on adults, and people who are safe."

Kim nodded agreement, and Omundson said, "It is completely understandable, of course. But at the same time, he's at the age where his instincts are to pull away from the adults in his life, and seek the company of peers."

"It is usually the time where kids are banding together against the adults," Jim said. "Poking at boundaries, pushing their limits." He shot a wry look at Alan. "Being little shits, basically.”

Alan grinned in spite of himself, and gave a nod to the principal's true assessment.

Jim’s expression grew more serious as he continued, “But more importantly, there are group runs on full moons, get togethers where the kids shed their skins and take their other forms, create and strengthen bonds with their pack that will last a lifetime."

Ferris picked up where Beaver stopped. "So far Jensen’s avoided that. Oh, apparently he’s friendly enough on the surface, but scratch that surface, and he’s isolated himself, as a human living among werewolves, denying his nature, rather than exploring and learning what it means to be were."

"But whether he likes it or not," Omundson said. "He needs his pack to survive. His wolf needs it. We're all aware of what a long way he’s come. But he needs to be pushed just a little bit further, encouraged to continue to grow and explore his wolf, because it’s going to affect the rest of his life as a were."

Alan’s eyes grew wide and a little stricken. Kim heard his breathing go shallow on the edge of panic and reached over and patted his hand.

"What we're suggesting, Alan," Kim's voice was gentle, persuasive. "Is that, as long as you've been away from your wife and daughter, and maybe now that Jensen is becoming more independent, it's time to encourage that."

"You've been the best support any parent could possibly be, under very difficult circumstances," Dr. Ferris said. "But Jensen needs to grow and develop as a werewolf, and we believe it's time for you to leave him to it. For you to go and be with the rest of your family."

This was not what he had expected. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but it hadn't been marching orders. "Are...you asking me to leave town? Abandon my son?"

"Not at all," Tim was quick to insist. "You wouldn't be abandoning him, just...giving him some room to grow. To learn to stand on his own two feet."

"He's been through so much—" tears started in his eyes when he contemplated even for a minute leaving Jensen on his own. "His mother... he isn't welcome at home, where he belongs, and I don't understand her. I mean to get to the bottom of that. But the truth is, he can't come home, at least, not yet. And I don't—" He had leaned forward, elbows on his knees. Now he sat back and looked in each of their faces. "He was missing so long. I missed so much time with him. I need to make that up. I need to be with him."

"But your girls, your wife and daughter. You need them too. And they need you, obviously," Tim stated the obvious.

Alan threw up his hands in frustration. "I don't know what to do."

Dr. Ferris leaned toward him, and spoke in that gentle voice. "We'll take care of Jensen," she promised. "He needs to be with us, now."

Beaver spoke, a surety in his voice that Alan couldn't ignore. "Jensen knows nothing about being a werewolf. We've spent the summer discussing history and culture, but he's taking it all in as an outsider." He leaned forward, speaking straight with Alan. "Jensen can't afford to be an outsider, with us. He needs to find out about the were part of himself, and what that's like, what it all means." He took a breath, deciding if he should say the next part. "And frankly, as long as you're around, he's never going to let go of the human boy he was, that you remember, enough to find and explore the were he is now."

They assured him that he would always be welcome in Wolverton—any of Jensen's family could come and visit anytime. But it was obvious Jensen was concentrating on his schoolwork, acclimating to his new reality, and learning to depend on his pack. Alan couldn't help with that. Maybe his role in this new part of Jensen's life, aside from continued support and frequent visits, was done. It was hard to hear, but after some thought, he grudgingly admitted they were probably right. But in the end, they all agreed that it should be Jensen's decision when he was ready for his dad to leave. Alan wouldn't let his son believe his father was abandoning him.

Alan let the subject percolate until after supper the next day, when he suggested he and Jensen take a stroll around town. Hugo followed at a discreet distance as the sun crept toward the treetops and the early fall afternoon light fell long and yellow over the town.

"Jim says you're doing really well in school," Alan started the conversation. "He's impressed, and proud of the work you've done to catch up. He says you're getting along pretty well with your classmates, too."

Jensen side-eyed him, aware this was more than a casual stroll and idle chat. He nodded, and waited for his dad to go on. "He thinks maybe it's time you concentrated more on fitting into the community, learning about—well, being a werewolf."

"Are you serious? Learn how to be a werewolf? How am I going to be anything else?" Jensen scoffed.

"Well, I'm sure there are things you don't know, haven't experienced yet." He peered at his son, noting the rising blush. "Or haven't figured out what you are experiencing."

"Okay, sure. I could maybe use a course in Werewolf 101," Jensen snarked. But Alan could see there was some truth there, along with the snark.

"Beaver, Tim, Mayor Rhodes, and Dr. Ferris, too—they all think maybe it's time you immersed yourself in local culture, and took a step or two away from what you know as a human kid," Alan told him, and waited for Jensen to process what he'd said.

Jensen slowed, but then picked up the pace again. "And Mom and Mack miss you. They need you at home," he stated the obvious. "So, maybe it's time for you to go, is that it?"

Alan opened his mouth to reply, but the words didn't come. He couldn't meet his son's eyes, so he nodded, and waited for the boy's reaction. Jensen bit on the inside of his lip, looking like he was chewing the information. He shot a glance at Alan, and nodded. "Yeah, I can see that. It makes sense."

"Really?" Alan wanted to know. "You're not just saying that because you think I want to go?"

"I know you want to go," Jensen answered. "You need to go. Mom and Mack need you, they do. And—" he blew out a breath and firmed his jaw. "It is time I stopped hiding and cringing and trying to avoid the part of me that's not human anymore." He stopped walking and turned to face his dad. "It's got to happen sometime," he said. "I've just gotten so used to you being here, leaning on you, feeling like you're always going to be there. I don’t want to lose that."

Alan reached and scooped him in. "I am always going to be here," he said, voice as fierce as his embrace. "Anytime you need me. I'll be just a phone call away, I promise. And I’ll still visit. A lot."

Jensen nodded, brushed a hand under his nose and sniffed, patted Alan's back, and stepped back to put some distance between them.

"So when were you thinking of leaving?"

"Maybe next week," Alan suggested, watching Jensen's reaction carefully. He seemed fine with it. "Jim wants you to move in with him."

"He's been so kind already. I don't want him to think he has to take me on permanently. I can stay at Ms. Abbott's."

Alan shook his head. "No, son. He really wants you to live there. He likes having you around, and he likes having your friends come by. He enjoys the discussions you get into, and he likes being able to join in. He's being honest about wanting you to come."

Jensen thought for a few minutes. "Ms. Abbott's place is nice."

Alan agreed. "And she's a good cook. But Jim's place is a home," he said.

"And, don't tell Ms. A, but Mara's cooking is better!"

They exchanged a grin, having agreed on several things at once. They kept walking as the light softened to twilight, and the first of the fireflies came out.

*    *    *

Alan spent the week getting Jensen settled at Jim's, and getting video chat, texting, every sort of communication available set up in his room. Alan wasn't all that surprised to discover that Jim's house was wired, and he offered to kick in on part of the costs. He was surprised, and gratified, when Jim agreed, though the principal wouldn't accept money for room and board. "He's to think of this as home." He grinned at Jensen when told Alan, "And damn if he doesn’t add some life to the old house. Mara’s cooking has even kicked up a notch with him here. He's more than welcome, as long as he doesn't throw keggers till all hours of the night, or bring sex partners into the house."

Jensen blanched, and left the room abruptly without saying anything.

"Aw, balls." Jim's face creased in regret over his slip. "Should I go after him?"

Alan shook his head. "He knows you didn't mean it. He'll be okay."

*    *    *

The day had arrived, Alan's bag was already in the car. Jensen thanked his dad for helping him, from that first call. He reminded Alan he was always welcome, the whole family was welcome anytime they wanted to visit, and Jim reassured both of them that was true, would always be true. Jensen would miss his dad, but they'd set up Jensen's communications center, and Jensen reminded Alan not to waste any time doing the same in the new house, so he could keep in touch with the whole family. He hugged his dad and told him to go home, and protect Mom and Mack. Alan clung to him for just a minute, finding it hard to let go.

"Call me." It was an instruction, not a request. "Tomorrow after school, or evening." Jensen grinned and nodded. "I mean it. Don't make me come back here." It was a mock-threat, and Alan hugged harder for just a second, then stepped away and got into the car.

*    *    *

Jared's mom asked both Jensen and Jim over for dinner. During the meal, the subject of the autumn equinox came up, and they started talking about their plans. Jensen had never heard of the equinox, and he wanted to know what it was about.

"It's a celebration of the end of summer," Sherri told him. "Rejoicing in the last of the warm sunny days, heading into harvest time before the long cold winter."

"Everybody shifts at once," Jared explained, excitedly. "And we run together. I mean, running with friends, or even by yourself is fun. But a pack run at the equinox?" The grin on his face was wide and joyful. "There's nothing like it."

"If you don't have other plans," Sherri suggested, "Why don't you two come run with us? It'll be more fun in a group."

Jim smiled, and looked like he was considering it. Jensen's discomfort was apparent, but he didn't say anything, either yes or no. Jim just said, "We'll see."

*    *    *

Jim mentioned the boy's reluctance to Samantha, who brought up the subject at their next appointment. “Jensen, I want to talk a little bit about your shifting, how often you’ve shifted and how comfortable you are in your other skin. Want to tell me a little about it?” Jensen sat still and silent for a few minutes, before finally speaking.

"When I was bitten, I didn't know what it meant. I had no real knowledge of werewolves in my life, you know? I mean, theoretically I was aware that such beings existed, somewhere, probably. But I'd never heard of any, and it's not like they had any influence on my life. I had no idea what that bite was about.

"The alphas, they called themselves alphas, their names were Ed and Roy, they took me to their home, and introduced me to the three they called betas, Nicole, Rachelle, and Gary. Nicole and Roy usually paired off, and Rachelle and Ed. Gary—once in a while one of the alphas would take him, but he didn't seem to enjoy it. He really wanted to be with one of the girls, but they just laughed at him.

"I sort of stayed out of the way, as much as I could, and for the most part the girls left me alone. Gary too. The alphas would...just, take me, whenever they wanted, no matter who was around. I'd wind up tied with one or the other, on the floor, in somebody's bed, outside somewhere, just waiting for their knot to go down so I could move away."

He drained about half of his water bottle and wiped his lips with the back of his hand before he continued.

"The pack had...gatherings, I guess. Where everybody would come and sit out around campfires, talk, sometimes share food. They didn't let me out of the den—the house, but when everybody got together I at least got to see other people. Other weres," he corrected himself. "I'd lost count of how long I'd been there. I think I'd given up by then, they were never going to let me go, I just felt that was true. And I wasn't strong enough to fight my way out. They would touch me—the back of my neck. Or sometimes just a look, or their voice, and I'd go still and do whatever they told me to do. So yeah, I think I'd probably given up by this time."

His eyes flickered up to hers, and away again. He sighed before he picked up his story again. "It was one of those gatherings, and I saw this girl, about my age. She was with the two guys she lived with, and the alpha had her in his arms, her back to his chest. I noticed the firelight on her face. She looked...peaceful. Happy. Her alpha bent and nibbled at a scar on her neck—I could see her shiver. And then he stroked a hand down her front and I could see the fabric of her dress tight against the swell of her belly, and I knew she was pregnant.

"Things started falling into place then—things I'd noticed but hadn't really figured out. My stomach had started getting bigger—I thought it was because I wasn't out running and doing the exercizes from football in school. But Ed came up behind me right then, and did that same stroke down my front as the other alpha had done, and he spoke right against my ear. 'Won't be long, pretty, you'll look just like that. And soon, we'll have us a whole bunch of new little pups.'"

Jensen struggled to contain and conceal his tears, and his voice caught. "Suddenly, I knew what they'd done to me. I couldn't believe it, I didn't want to admit it, but I *knew*. And I ran. I just ran, finally realizing I was headed back to the den. I didn't know anywhere else to go. Something strange started happening to my body. It was painful, but more really strange-feeling than painful. I fell onto my knees and finally onto my side, and just shook. I didn't have a clue what was happening, I just had to lay there and let it."

Samantha shifted, recrossed her legs. "You shifted. The shock from realizing you were pregnant caused your first shift."

"Yeah."

"You hadn't realized you were a werewolf until then, right? I can understand that, one shock on top of another. So that was your first experience with shifting. Did it get easier for you after that first time?"

He didn't so much as look her way. He shook his head, his mouth twisted with an emotion she couldn't identify. "I didn't shift back."

She let that statement lie there for a moment. Then, "You didn't shift back to your human form?" He shook his head no. "For how long?"

"Until I ran."

*    *    *

Samantha looked over the notes she had made during Jensen's session. She wanted to write this up while it was fresh, and also because she had stopped taking notes at some point in his story, and she didn't want to omit anything he had told her.

Jensen had remained in his wolf form for the rest of his first pregnancy, through delivery, and through nursing his four pups.

"The betas took care of them. They cleaned them up, played with them. They just shoved them at me when they were hungry."

He'd gotten a little lost in the past and stopped talking. "So you..." she prompted.

"I stretched out somewhere, in the house, or just outside the door, anywhere, really, and let them feed. The betas came and got them when they were done, and I usually fell asleep, or wandered off into the woods and found someplace to nap."

"They'd get old enough to eat real food and about that time I'd start another heat, and Roy and Ed would start breeding me until I caught. They wanted me to shift back, but it was better being in wolf form."

He took a drink from the water bottle in his hand. "They had changed me. I wasn't human any longer, I was something—other. Different. And walking on four legs, not talking, letting conversation wash over and around me without having to try and understand..." He shifted in his seat, and scratched at a spot on his neck. "Not having to remember, or think about anything, it was just easier to go as far away from human as I could, and to stay there. So they shifted, to breed me until I caught, and then I'd carry and whelp, and feed, and then do it all over again."

“And how many times did this happen Jensen? How many times did you….” Sam kept her voice smooth and professional.

"Three." He was looking exhausted, and she was reeling a little herself, at all this new information. And their time for the day was up.

She stopped him there, and promised they'd talk more, next time. She had a lot to process before then.

*    *    *

When the whole pack shifted to run together for the equinox at the end of September it was apparently a big deal, but Jensen didn’t see why. He didn't shift. He thought about it, but he couldn't, because nobody had taught him and he never learned how. Or maybe it was more that he wouldn't, because he had spent three years shifted, and he was free of the reasons for that, now.

School continued pretty well. There were a dozen or so kids, betas and omegas, in the same classes as Jensen, and they nodded and smiled at each other in the halls, cracked the occasional joke. It was nice. Jensen had missed that about school.

But inevitably there were a few alpha students who thought it was fun to pass too closely in the halls, so they could rub up against Jensen, to ninja up behind him and speak in his ear, usually something suggestive or just downright dirty. He got his ass stroked and patted pretty often, but there were no actual assaults, no getting crowded into a row of lockers by one, or more than one alpha knot head. Lee or Hugo still shadowed him though, and a shift in position or a hard look would back the younger alphas off.

*    *    *

Jim tried to keep tabs on his alpha students' behavior. He asked Jensen to be honest with him if any of them were getting out of hand. Things like this tended to escalate, and Beaver intended to nip that behavior in the bud, before it got worse. He wanted a no-tolerance policy, not just for Jensen, but for all his omega students. Jensen shared a few of the more intense moments, but for the most part he tried to underplay the harassment. It wasn't going to help matters getting alpha students pissed at him.

And besides Hugo and Lee, Jared or Chad were usually somewhere close, and they backed him up, or diffused a tense situation, or just walked with him from class to class, so he didn't have to travel alone. He didn't think Chad liked him very much. They didn't have a lot in common to talk about, and Jensen figured Chad had taken him on because he was Jared's project. Whatever, Jensen was grateful to the young alpha on various occasions, and he counted Chad as a friend, even if his taste in games left a lot to be desired.

*    *    *

Jensen met Trevor every day out by the stadium to work on the mural. It was taking shape, a spill of woodland over the crest of a hill, a cloud-filled blue sky above, and in the center, the stadium itself, full of cheering fans and opposing football teams. Jensen was impressed with Trev's artistry, both the impressionistic broad strokes and vivid color, but also with the delicate details, some as small as expressions on faces in the stands. Jared and Chad usually dropped by to help paint, and just to hang out. The days got shorter as the weather turned colder. December had arrived, and Trev was working to get as much done as possible in the waning light after school. Senior alphas still cruised by occasionally, and there were older boys in the group, a year or more past high school. They never missed an opportunity to make rude noises and suggestions to both Trevor and Jensen, though Chad, and even Jared, came to alert when the alphas wandered by, and Hugo or Lee always made themselves visible. The alphas kept walking, even while their mouths were running. Trevor looked spooked, when he wasn't so deep in concentration on his mural.

Getting home as swift twilight was giving way to full dark, Jensen saw the lights shining through the windows onto the porch floorboards, and felt the welcome. Lee or Hugo, whoever was with him that day, would say goodnight and head off on his own time, since Beaver's house was considered safe.

Jensen would take his things to his room, get online and talk to Mack for a while, sitting at his desk. Optimus Prime stood next to the keyboard, and while he talked, Jensen would pick up the toy, turn and twist parts, turning the futuristic vehicle into his humanoid shape, and then back again. Changing Optimus from one form to another seemed familiar and somehow reassuring. He'd had the toy since the Christmas he turned twelve.

Once finished with his conversation with his family, Jensen would wash up for supper. Mr. Beaver would ask about his homework, and after the meal, Jensen would bring his books and notebooks to the dining table, or into Beaver's office, and they would spend the evening companionably working on their separate tasks, or talking over a theory or a moment in history. And on rare occasions, Beaver would indulge in one of his favorite pastimes, watching werewolf movies, and Jensen was invited. The two would hole up in the den with big bowls of popcorn and Jim would ask Jensen to load a DVD at random. Jensen would laugh as Jim raged at the TV screen. “Oh, y'idjits, we don’t shift like that. You'd break your neck that way. Can’t you guys afford a were consultant on a movie?“

Sometimes Jared would come home with Jensen, and stay for supper, and almost as often, Jensen would go to Jared's for supper. At Jared's they hung out after the meal downstairs in the rec room, playing games, or watching some genre movie or other. Jared walked him home on the nights he had dinner with Jared's family. The two boys discovered a lot they had in common, from what they liked to read to the movies they liked. Jensen had missed some classics, and Jared decided to catch him up on everything important that he hadn't seen. Jensen liked spending time with Jared. He could relax with him, more than with anybody else he knew.

Christmas was coming and, using the allowance his dad sent every month, Jensen shopped for a few carefully selected things, for the people in his new life, as well as for his family. The week before Christmas, Alan and Mack came to visit, bringing presents for Jensen. They spent the whole day catching up. He took them by the stadium to show off the mural.

Jared and Chad were there, shooting hoops. He introduced both boys to his family, and bristled when Chad looked Mack up and down, and then wiggled his eyebrows at her theatrically. He stood down, though, when Chad sent him a half-grin and a wink. Mack thought he was cute.

Alan had met Jared before, of course, but he was happy to see Jensen was making friends his own age.

Jensen had kind of expected and hoped Trev would be there, working, so he could introduce him to his family, but there was no sign of the other boy. Mack and Alan were appreciative of the mural, though, and happy Jensen was involved with other people in a project.

As they spent time with Jensen, Alan noted almost another inch in height, and he could swear Jensen's shoulders had broadened. Mara's cooking obviously agreed with him, because that baggy hoodie didn't disguise the new layer of muscle that had replaced the gaunt skinniness of before. The boy stood straighter, too, and moved with more confidence. It was all progress, and he was glad to see it. It made clear to Alan that his leaving had been the right choice.

It may have appeared that Jensen had matured; time spent with his younger sister soon proved he hadn't changed that much. They were still goofy and full of pranks and play fights, teasing and silly faces, and affectionate name-calling. Alan's heart was happy, seeing them like this, and he still couldn't understand how Donna could refuse to be part of their joy.

Beaver had invited them to stay for supper, and Mara outdid herself preparing a traditional Christmas dinner. Afterwards, Jensen handed over the presents he'd bought for each of them, and his mom, and there were tight hugs, and Merry Christmas wishes, before Alan and Mack drove away.

Beaver had enlisted Jensen's help to cut, drag home, set up, and decorate the tree in the living room. There were a few wrapped packages underneath its branches already, and Jensen tucked the ones from his family in among the others. There was another one or two upstairs that still needed wrapping.

Mara had no family of her own, so she lived-in, as housekeeper for Mr. Beaver. She also joined them in celebrating on Christmas Day.

She'd gotten a new pair of fleece-lined slippers for Jim, and a tin of her homemade cookies for Jensen. Jensen's gift for her was a soft silk scarf in colors that brought out the pink in her cheeks and the blue of her eyes. She loved it, as well as the small flatscreen TV Beaver had bought for her bedroom, complete with cable hookup and DVR.

Jensen opened the presents from his family, all nice things: a fancy new tablet from Alan, a surprisingly not-garish sweater from Mack, and a scarf, very soft, and in his favorite colors from Donna.

Jensen had bought rugged flannel shirts for both Lee and Hugo, and Mr. Beaver laughed when he pulled the wrapping paper off the digitally remastered original Wolfman movie, starring Lon Chaney. Jensen and Hugo walked to Jared's house to take the picture frame, simply carved of clear walnut wood for Jared's parents. Their walls were full of family photos, so he was pretty sure they would like the frame. He left Chad's present, a lined pair of good leather gloves, under the Padaleckis' tree, figuring they would see him before Jensen did. Jared was thrilled with the latest edition of his favorite game, and Jensen promised he'd come over and play it with him before school started up again.

Their walk back to Beaver's house led by the stadium, and there was still no sign of Trevor. From what Jensen could tell, there had been no progress on the mural since the last time he and Trev had worked on it, the last day of school before break. Jensen had expected Trev to use all the time off from school to make headway on the mural. But maybe his family had plans over the holidays, and he was kept busy.

Comments are like fuel for the soul || Master Post | Chapter 4 | Chapter 6