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Darlin hisses, narrowly dodging Quinn’s attack - buying themselves just enough time to shed their jacket and shift. They were injured - a couple of bites and bruises stained their skin - but it wasn’t anything they couldn’t handle. This isn’t anything they haven’t handled before. Their bones expand and snap, magic flowing throughout their body, until a wolf growls opposite the grinning vampire.
“Well, it took you long enough.” He sneered, eyes dark and hungry. “I was beginning to think you’d gone soft.”
Darlin watches his every move, ready to pounce at a moment's notice. Having fought Quinn before, they know his tactics like the back of their hand. He’s trying to get to them, get in their head. “I’m relieved you haven’t.” Quinn grins, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.
“Let’s dance, darling.”
Quinn’s fast - but this time - they’re able to match his speed. His fangs retract and tear into their flesh, eliciting a pained groan from the wolf. Darlin snaps their jaw, sinking their teeth into his right leg, biting and ripping skin.
Quinn screams, thrashing around, throwing punches and kicks all over their shifted form.
There’s a struggle. Darlin’s knife-like nails claw his face and Quinn’s deranged laughter rings loudly in their ears. His hands lock tightly around their throat, leaving them with little to no air as they pant, writhe, kick, growl, screech - anything to get this bastard off them.
He’s stronger than before, more than likely feeding before their little dalliance.
Pain explodes throughout their body - bones snap and crack and their vision blurs. Fuck. Sam isn’t going to be able to heal all of this. There’s too much blood, too many broken bones (and probably ribs but they can’t tell because everywhere hurts.) Sam. They can’t die, not here, not now. Not because of this–
Their head crashes against the concrete floor and Quinn’s grip remains, standing above them and smiling. “You should’ve known it would come to this.” He taunts, kicking their side, forcing their body into the air, and hitting a tree. They crumble to the floor, whirling back around and leaning against the tree trunk. “You’ll always be a weak mutt.”
Their shifted form barely holds. Darlin misses his punch, returning the favour by locking his arm in a vice grip, biting down hard, pulling till it jumped out of its socket. The screech that escaped his throat had the wolf pull harder till they heard a pop and saw blood oozing from the bite marks they gave him.
“Fuck!” Quinn’s eyes widen - not with horror - but blazing with fury and insanity that left Darlin clinging to life after their last fight. “I hope your corpse is still recognizable by the time we’re done here…Darling.”
Quinn lunges fast, faster than he had before. He slides under them, grabbing their fur and throwing them against a brick wall, hauling their wolf form upward until they are eye level. His nails digging into their fur felt like needles slowly sinking into their skin as Darlin struggled, not having the energy or strength to fight him off.
With any luck, it won't be Sam that finds their body. Bile climbed up their throat at the thought. They love him too much to have him see them like that - cold and unmoving, still - too still and gone.
Their body burns. Quinn shakes them like a ragdoll, slamming their head against the wall.
They know what he wants. He wants them to shift back. He wants to see them beg and grovel at his knees for their life.
Darlin feels the magic keeping their wolf form sizzle and fade away, revealing their vulnerable and frail human state as Quinn releases them, letting them fall. Darlin crawls, clinging onto a lamppost and trembling as they stand - clothes torn and drenched in theirs and Quinn’s blood. “What are you fucking waiting for?” Darlin yells, legs shaking, threatening to give out and have them plummet to the ground – again.
“If you think I’ll beg you for my life, you've got another thing coming.” Darlin spat as his eyes lit up, amused at their futile attempts to be the bigger person.
Oh – this will be fun.
He smirks, fangs glowing in the moonlight, grabbing Darlin by their shredded shirt, and pulling them closer. “Say that again.”
His breath grazes their skin. Darlin feebly fights him off, pushing him away and scratching his arms with their nails. “Fuck you.”
“Wrong answer.”
Darlin snaps their eyes shut as Quinn’s fangs shred skin. His bite feels nothing like Sam’s. It’s not soft or gentle – it’s harsh and taunting. The rumble of his maniacal laughter against their skin makes Darlin feel sick. His heavy pants are hot on their skin, the air feels thick and damp and soon enough, they’ll bleed out and die.
What would David think? Would he feel guilty for not noticing something was wrong sooner? Would he even care? Should he even care?
All they've ever been is a liability. Useless. Known for causing trouble wherever they went. At least if they were gone, the pack wouldn't have to deal with that anymore. They wouldn’t have to deal with them anymore. They wouldn't have to constantly look over their shoulders for Quinn and any of his lackeys.
Darlin knows David well enough to know he’d blame himself, regardless of whether him being at fault or not. That's just the type of person he is, the type of person he'll always be. Kind and stubborn.
Darlin inhales. 1…2…3…
“Aw, don’t tell me the blood loss is leaving you dizzy, Darling.”
4…5…6…
“I intend to make an example of you. Drain you dry and leave your mangled body somewhere I know they'll find it. How about on your little mate’s doorstep? How does that sound?”
7…8…9…
“What? No witty comeback?” Quinn snarled. “I wonder what that useless Alpha of yours would do if he could–
10…
Quinn doesn’t notice the large black werewolf looming behind, eyes narrow and piercing into his back. By the time he does, David’s already pounced, jaws locked on Quinn’s leg, cracking bones as the vampire screams, swearing profusely.
Darlin’s never seen David fight like this, so vicious and deadly - after all, Quinn had attacked a member of his pack. Why else would he be so angry?
Quinn barely manages to haul David off him, panting and coughing blood with a sneer. “Can't fight your own battles, can you, mouse?”
Darlin grits their teeth as David tears into Quinn's side. The thick scent of blood coats the air around them and Darlin felt sick, struggling to keep themselves standing. For mere moments, the world seemed hazy, loud and fading away…
Not even Quinn's screams (as immensely satisfying as they are) could keep their eyes from fluttering open and shut every couple of seconds. Darlin feels their back hit the ground, looking up at the sky as stars illuminate the vast expanse above them. Blood rushes into their mouth, pouring from the corners of their lips as their limbs grow numb and heavy.
Tears fall from their eyes before Darlin can stop them. They hear heavy footsteps and then feel warmth and leather surround their body as David wraps his jacket around them, holding them close.
He frantically dials a number. Sam's number. They barely hear his voice - his sweet, beautiful voice. The worry and fear in his tone make their skin crawl, why did they keep hurting him? He didn't deserve this.
Sam's only ever been gentle and patient with them in ways Darlin realised Quinn never was. And this is how they repay him? Bleeding out on the ground in some alleyway in a town they could never quite remember the name of. Their alpha on his knees, applying pressure to their torn side with one hand, phone in the other. Eyes on them, always on them.
“Stay awake for me, alright?” David pleaded, breath heaving as he pressed his hand down harder onto their side, desperate to stop any more blood loss. Darlin could distinctly make out tears filling his eyes, his grip tightening on his phone as he told Sam their location.
Darlin weakly nodded, frowning when dark clouds covered the sea of stars lighting up the night sky, perfect, considering they're practically on their deathbed, rain seemed fitting. They don't deserve to see the stars after everything they've put their pack and Sam through.
“Sorry…” Darlin mumbles, breathing hectically, feeling blood fill their chest cavity and seep into their lungs. From afar, their blurring vision could make out an unmoving body. “Is…is he-
“He’s dead,” David confirms, glancing over at Quinn’s mangled remains. “The sun will finish him off before the department clears this up.”
A slow smile meets their swollen lips. “Are…are the rest of the pack okay? Quinn didn’t send any of his lackeys after them, did he?” If they weren’t in pain, David swears he’d hug them. They’ve always cared for others more than themselves and now isn’t any different, they’ve been like that since they were teens. Always putting others first, despite how many times they’ve been hurt because of it.
Bittersweet, with all things considered. “Ash and Milo would’ve notified me if anything had happened. Everyone’s fine…I just need to make sure you are too.” His voice trails off like a gust of wind blowing nearby leaves, revealing a frantic Sam who is on his knees, beside his mate before David can say another word.
“Sam.” They say, eyes lighting up. “I’m sorry you gotta see me like this. I-I didn’t plan it, I swear, he just found me–
Sam gently hushes them. “I know Darlin, course I believe you.” His eyes urgently trail over their body, finding almost every ounce of bare skin littered with scars, dried blood and dirt. He notices David holding their side. “I’m gonna start healing you, alright?” Darlin mumbles, knowing Sam would hear.
Darlin hissed as David lessened the pressure on their torn side, welcomed by slightly colder hands. Sam’s hands. Hands that have held theirs. Hands they know and trust. Love. “Take a deep breath for me.” Darlin tightly inhales, relieved when David’s hand finds theirs, squeezing and massaging their bruised knuckles.
A wave of healing magic pulses through them, earning a grunt from the shifter as bones mould back into place, skin no longer split. Darlin shakily exhales, squeezing David’s hand tighter. “This one.” He motions Sam to the deep gash on their thigh, covered by shredded pants barely clinging to their skin. Sam hovered his hands above the wound, eyes flicking to Darlin’s and they nod, biting their split lip. He closed his eyes and poured another series of healing magic into them, kneading the ravaged skin and closing the open wound, preventing infection. There were many other wounds scattered across them but they were alive – and that’s all that mattered.
“Are they stable?” David asked, eyeing his car parked across the street. The wind became colder as rain hurled from the sea of dark clouds. He needed to get them out of here, somewhere warmer where they could rest.
Sam's fingers find their pulse point, releasing his held breath when their breathing is normal again, or at least, not as sluggish as before. “I’ve healed the worst of their injuries but I can do more, I just need to–
Sam pushed down the ache pounding in his skull, pushing in more healing magic. He moves his hands once he's satisfied the wound won't leave a scar, targeting another series of swollen marks and bruises on their legs. He sharply inhales, on the verge of sending another wave of healing magic but David stops him.
“You've done enough for now," David assures, still holding Darlin's limp hand as their eyes flutter shut, chest dutifully rising and falling. “Help me get them to my car. They can stay at my place till they're better, fully healed, at least.”
Sam raises an eyebrow. “Now, Mr Shaw–
“You can stay too, if you'd like,” David says, quieter as the rain soaked his clothes. “You look drained and tired, you need rest too.”
“I-I appreciate the offer Mr Shaw but I wouldn't want to impose–
David scoffs. How could he think he was imposing? He's Darlin's mate, he's part of the pack. “I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want you to stay, would I?”
"I...suppose not.” Sam pays close attention to Darlin's breathing. “Are you sure you don't mind?”
“I'm sure, now let's get them in the car.”
…
The car journey was quiet, to say the least.
Sam sat in the back seat with a fast asleep Darlin while David kept his eyes on the road, looking in the rearview mirror at his injured pack member now and again - Sam noticed.
David taps his fingers on the steering wheel when they arrive at a red light, growing impatient as traffic builds up along the long stretch of road. Why the fuck is it so busy on a Tuesday night?
The department would have to be notified about Quinn's death and the amount of paperwork that would come with it made David grumble but it was worth it. That fucker's dead, he won't be able to hurt them again.
His eyes flickered to the rearview mirror, grimacing at Sam's exhausted form and all the scars scattered across Darlin's skin. His heart hurt. He's seen them injured and in fights before but nothing like this - he hated it. Hated the way his stomach dropped and breath hitches at the sight of their tranquil form.
His jaw tightened as the light turned green, not turning the radio on and keeping the windows up. Dodging through traffic, David's car hurried along the avenue, changing lanes occasionally - to get Darlin indoors and far away from what's left of Quinn.
Sam hisses as the car goes over a speed bump, pinching the sides of his forehead as dull pain throbs through his skull.
“Another 10 minutes, we should be back,” David says, taking a left. “Feel free to shower and change clothes, if you want to, of course.”
David doesn't miss the way Sam's breath catches. “Thank you…Mr Shaw.”
“David.”
Sam gently smiled. “David. Sorry, it's a habit.”
“Don't apologise, it's fine. You saved my pack member's life, you don't owe me anything.” David conceded. “If anything, I'm the one that owes you. You were there for the troublemaker when I couldn't be, so thank you.”
Sam parted his lips to respond but only nodded, not wanting to worsen his headache.
The rest of the journey was silent, only Darlin's steady breathing could be heard by both the tired vampire and grumbling shifter as he drives into the driveway, parked up and opened the front door of his house as Sam carried Darlin in, resting them on the couch, mindful not to wake them.
Darlin stirred, curling into the pillows and mumbling incoherent words under their breath. Sam moved hairs out of their face, tucking them behind their ear, longing to hold and look after them. To keep them safe.
“They’ll be out for a while.” Sam eventually spoke, rubbing his eyes. “When they wake up I’ll get back to healing them again.”
“How long do you think it’ll take them to wake up?” David gently took his jacket off them, replacing it with a blanket from the radiator.
“2…3 hours.” Sam hoarsely chokes out, rubbing his eyes, stomach feeling empty and hollow. “Fuck. I might need some blood.”
David strolled toward the window, peering through the black curtains and glancing up at the sky, he could see specs of sunlight peeking out between the dark clouds. “Sun’s soon coming up. Wonderworld isn’t too far from here, I could drive you there if you prefer.”
Sam swallowed the growl in his throat. “I’m not leaving them, David.” He shifts his gaze onto them. “I’ll manage just fine and besides, I need to be here when they wake up. I can’t let them down again.”
“Let them down?” David shakes his head. “You should hear the way they gush about you to Asher’s mate, it would be infuriating if it wasn’t so endearing.”
“But–
“No. None of this is your fault, Sam.” David spoke, voice firm.
“I should’ve been there…” Sam shakily inhales. “I should’ve been by their side, they shouldn’t have been alone David, I shouldn’t have let them–
“You saved their life...” David reminds, softly. “I can never thank you enough for that, I don’t know what I would’ve done if I lost–
“If we lost them - the pack, I mean.” David corrects himself, cursing under his breath and looking anywhere other than at Darlin.
“Get some blood, Sam, you need it. I can’t stand here and watch you starve yourself.” David sits him down. “And the troublemaker over there wouldn’t want you to, either. Would they?”
Sam grimly shakes his head. “Suppose not.”
“They’ll be right here when you get back.”
David doesn’t say a word. Not when Sam’s head rests on his shoulder – only humming in response. He wrinkles his nose a couple of times, adjusting to the warm and inviting aroma of lavender and oakwood Sam possessed. Intoxicating – in all the right ways. It tickled his senses (that are still focused on Darlin’s breathing but he’d never admit that out loud)
He waits with Sam till Vincent arrives. David doesn’t say much else other than a quiet ‘thank you’ and the promise to keep an eye on Darlin.
“If there’s anything I can do, please let me know and I’ll–
“Just make sure Sam gets fed,” David instructs, looking at Sam and frowning at his tired state.
Vincent curtly nods, wrapping an arm around Sam's middle as he leads him out of the house.
Their car speeds down the road and David watches from the window until it’s completely out of view.
His shoulders finally fell, along with the heavy breath he had no idea he was holding.
David catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he passes the bathroom.
Fuck.
He needs a shower.
…
Darlin's eyes opened wide. They recognised the living room - it was David’s.
When the hell did they get here? And where’s–
Sam.
Darlin sluggishly moved off the couch, groaning as bruises and scratches burned on their tender and swollen skin. Shit.
They could hear David’s humming from upstairs and then the sound of the shower turning on promptly after. Darlin stumbled into the kitchen, finding their phone on the table and a post-it note;
Sam’s gone to get blood from Will - he’ll be back in the evening. There’s food in the fridge, have something to eat because I know you won’t
- David
On cue, their stomach grumbles. When was the last time they ate? Couldn’t have been last night, or the afternoon since they had left Sam’s house. More than likely last morning, Darlin concluded, everything felt like a blur.
Darlin sheepishly opened the fridge, placing a slice of toast in the toaster - not wanting to take anymore despite how weak they felt. It tastes bitter between their teeth - almost salty, metallic from all the blood that had risen from their throat and into their mouth hours before.
Once they’re done, Darlin makes sure to wash up, putting everything back in place and heading back into the living room. Darlin wasn’t sure what to do now, biting their lip. Should they sit and wait for David to finish up in the shower? Should they leave? Did they want to leave? Either way, Darlin didn’t want to overstay their welcome longer than they already had.
Their mind raced and muscles tightened as they took their jacket off the hanger, maybe they could message David after–
“Have you eaten?”
Darlin grumbled, holding their jacket tighter in their grip. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Not what I asked,” David said, firmly.
Darlin feels their cheeks tingle, doing everything in their power to avert their gaze from the towel wrapped around his waist, the softness of his inked skin…”I had toast.” They ground out, shifting their weight from side to side.
“Good. Now, where are you going?” David raised an eyebrow, eyeing the jacket in their grasp.
Darlin ignores the pain striking their leg. They’ve stood up for too fucking long. “This is your home, David, I don’t want you to think I’m using you, or intruding, or–
David’s heart hurt. “Why would I think that?”
Darlin lowers their gaze, gnashing their teeth. “I’ve never really been part of the pack, have I?”
“Darlin–
“It’s true, isn’t it?” Darlin shrugs as if not being part of the pack didn’t hurt them when it did. “I haven’t. I don’t get why you’re doing all of this – not that I don’t appreciate it but I–I don’t get why you’d care.”
“Of course, I’d fucking care, why wouldn’t I? You’re my–
Friend? - True, but the word left a sour taste in his mouth. He didn’t know why. Fuck.
They need to know. They need to know how much he cares – how much all of the pack does. “I care about you.” His words left his lips before David could reconsider them (not that he ever would, he just doesn’t want to scare them away) He walks toward them, slowly. The edges of his lips curl into a small smile when he realises Darlin hasn’t backed away. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? What have you got to be sorry for? I’m the one that was distant, not you.” Darlin points out, feeling the heat of his skin against their clothes as he draws closer.
“I should’ve tried harder. I shouldn’t have left you to deal with all this by yourself.” David raises his hand, letting his fingertips hover above their cheek, letting his touch linger as their breath catches. “I should’ve done a lot of things.”
“We both fucked up, huh?” Darlin lightly grinned. “I don’t blame you, David but thank you for…for being here for me, now, when I need you.”
“Of course, I’d be.” I’ll always be (but that part of the sentence went unsaid.)
A couple of moments passed in silence between the two wolves. Neither felt uncomfortable; rather, they took comfort in the presence of the other. David watches the way their lips part as his fingertips trace over a small bruise below their eye. “You want me to heal this?”
Darlin slightly tilts their head. “Heal? Since when did you learn healing magic?”
David stayed quiet for a moment. “It was...roughly a few days after the, uh, inversion.” His voice gets quieter with each word as he glances at the floor, coughing. “D.A.M.N offered extra healing classes, thought I might as well give them a try.”
“I don’t mind having the bruise but if you can heal it then yeah, be my guest.”
David’s fingers press against their cheek, eliciting a wave of healing magic, cleaning up the bruise – clear skin taking its place. “There, good as new.”
Darlin’s nose wrinkled, suddenly becoming aware of the thick stench of blood coating the air around them. “Shit. I’ve gotta get home and get in touch with D.U.M.P they’ll want to know about the whole Quinn situation–
“Already done,” David said, casually. “I got on the phone to them a while after Sam and Vincent left. They’re probably cleaning up the mess as we speak.”
Darlin breathes a sigh of relief. “You’ve saved me from having to do a crap ton of paperwork, thank you.”
David shrugs. “You probably want to shower, I imagine?”
“Yeah, I didn’t realise how much blood I had on me.” Darlin frantically looks over to the couch where they had previously resided. “Shit, sorry about your couch, I can clean it up now if you’ll–
“Go shower,” David grumbled. “I’ll leave clothes for you on my bed.”
“David, you don’t have to do this,” Darlin assured, voice wavering – slightly. “I don’t mind going home, really, I can manage,” Darlin spoke, unsure whether or not they were trying to convince themselves or him.
“I already told Sam I’d keep an eye on you. No debates, just go shower.”
Darlin felt too exhausted to argue, handing their coat to David when he gestured for it.
Darlin clambered up the stairs, slipping out of their clothes and standing naked in David Shaw’s bathroom. Their hands tremble as they turn the faucet on, getting into the bathtub and hissing as the cold water hits them. For a few, precious moments, their mind stilled.
Their chest felt heavy as they reached for the shower gel, lathering it between their palms running it along their marked arms, cleaning up dried blood and dirt – anything that served as a reminder of their encounter with Quinn.
Darlin sighs as their muscles adjust to the exerting movements, leaning against the tiled wall and running their hands through their wet hair once their whole body is covered in soap.
They step under the showerhead, rinsing the soap off their skin – any remnants of that leech long gone, except for scars that dotted across their skin like stars in the dark.
Beautiful, as Sam described them, showering them in a loving embrace that made their heart beat faster and lips curve involuntarily into a smile. He always made them smile.
Darlin finishes up in the shower, turning off the faucet and stepping out of the tub, grabbing a towel off the rack and wrapping it around their body, drying droplets of water scattered across their skin. They yawn, rub their eyes, and close the bathroom door behind them before heading to David's room. On the bed, he had laid a large t-shirt and black boxers, along with an assortment of creams and toiletries. (This didn’t come as a surprise to Darlin, they’d always known David cared greatly for the condition of his skin, even if he wouldn’t admit it aloud, the cupboard of essential oils, candles and moisturisers in his bathroom would account for that.)
David made sure to stay downstairs until he heard their footsteps coming down the stairs, keen to not overstep any boundaries or make them feel uncomfortable.
Darlin got dressed and made their way back downstairs, finding David in the kitchen, dressed and washing dishes, humming an old tune to himself. In moments like this, Darlin saw a version of David only those closest to him did. Since his Father’s death, he’s had to wear a mask, put up a front, be strong for the pack – carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, all whilst grieving for Gabe and dealing with…well…them distancing themselves.
It’s not his fault. It was never his fault.
He didn't notice them standing in the doorway until he turned off the tap, drying the last couple of plates. “How you feeling, troublemaker?”
“Better, thank you,” Darlin mumbled, wrapping their arms around themselves.
They hesitated, lips parting but no words leaving them. “David?”
He cleans up the water on the sides of the sink with a cloth, giving them his full attention after. “Hm.”
Why was their heart beating out of their chest?
“Are…are you doing okay?” Their voice sounded smaller than intended but loud enough for David to hear. He stays quiet for a moment.
“I will be.”
Darlin smiles, their mate's voice echoing in their ears. “Nope – I’m not talking about ‘will be I’m talking about right now. Are you alright?”
“No.” He relents, shoulders falling, eyes dimming. “But it doesn't matter.” He doesn’t meet their gaze as he strolls past them, careful not to jutt their shoulder.
Following him into the living room, Darlin watches as he sorts through paperwork. “I’ve got paperwork and documents I need to fill out for the company – the department emailed a couple of forms I need to fill out too, then I need to–
Their hands curl around his, stilling his movements. “David.”
He looks up at them from his seated position, eyes heavy with guilt that etched his facial features like old wounds. Darlin knows that look all too well. “I can help you with some of this.” Darlin begins, motioning to the pile of paperwork. “If you’d like. But I’m stubborn, you know that, so it’s either you let me help, or you take a damn break.”
“I can get most of it done,” David grumbles. “And besides, you’re still injured, you need rest. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
“You need rest too, you know.”
“I know that I just–
“Nope. Not having it.” Darlin leads him by his hands away from the couch, through the hallway and up the stairs. Part of them felt surprised and relieved he didn’t fight them back, not having the energy to. “We both need rest, deep down you know it too.”
David lets himself be pulled by them.
“Guess we’re as stubborn as each other, huh?” David spoke, muscles aching from fighting hours prior.
“Damn right.” Darlin led him into his room, guiding him to his bed. “You need sleep, you’ve been up for hours making sure I’m okay, now let me do the same for you.”
“That’s not the–
He’s cut off when a yawn escapes between his lips. He frowns. “I suppose you’re right.”
Darlin wolfishly grins, eyes bright as sunlight filters through the curtains. “I usually am, aren’t I?”
David playfully scoffs, his limbs feel heavier with each passing second. He gets under the covers, watching Darlin watch him. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Aren’t you gonna get in?”
Their eyes widened. “You-you want me to…?” Their voice trails off.
“I haven’t told anyone this, but…” David pauses, practically whispering. “I haven’t slept properly since the Inversion. I know I lecture you about looking after yourself, asking for help when you need it, but I just…it’s stupid. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not stupid, first and foremost,” Darlin assures, voice gentle and soothing, it made his skin tingle. “Secondly, thank you, for telling me. Does Asher know?”
“I suspect he does. But he would, wouldn’t he?”
“The ever-observant beta.” Darlin grinned. “But you, Shaw, need sleep.”
“I know I do. But whenever I close my eyes all I see are–
“Wait, what are you doing?” He asks, sitting up as Darlin peels off their clothes, crouching on the ground.
“What does it look like, Shaw? I’m shifting, or I’m about to, at least.”
“Why?”
Darlin looks up at him. “Whenever my friend had trouble sleeping, I’d shift for them, and yeah, they were terrified at first, but holding me made them feel safer. They also said my fur’s pretty soft, so maybe it’ll help you too.”
David stays silent as they shift, captivated by the beautiful wolf in front of him as their bones expand and mould before his very eyes. They wait patiently until he motions for them, leaping onto the bed and snuggling into his side. His hand combes through their fur, opening and closing his eyes every so often in a futile attempt to stay awake slightly longer.
The rays of sunlight illuminate the freckles scattered across his face as his breathing slows and his features relax. Darlin couldn’t remember the last time they’d seen him look so peaceful. The stress of his daily life moulded worry lines into the lands of his skin, skin Darlin found themselves tempted to touch, caress.
Their snout rubs up and down his shoulder, taking in his scent of leather and honey – familiar. They always found comfort in familiarity. They always found comfort in David.
They stare into each other's heavily laden eyes, his arms lazily wrapped around their shifted form, holding them close to his chest. They could hear his heartbeat, like a melody in their head, strong and steady. Darlin’s breath stills, eyes closing and soon enough they’re sound asleep, curled into David’s side.
He doesn’t sleep just yet. He can’t. The words he’s spent years running away from finally catch up to him like a choked and silent sob (he’s desperate not to wake them)
“I love you,” David murmurs into their fur, satiated by their warmth, encompassed by their love and care, something he feels he’s long since forgotten. Like a distant memory. A stained photograph.
David slept soundly for the first time in a long time.
…
The sun had long since set as Sam shifts uncomfortably, his knock echoes loudly in the near-empty hallway. He can’t just stand outside David’s apartment all night. Still, he can’t help himself from raising his fist to the door and rapping his knuckles against the wood once more.
The knock is a bit harder than he means for it to be – a sign of his desperation. He needs to see them, needs to know that they’re okay. Until he can see them with his own eyes, every minute that he’s left standing out in the hallway is torture.
Finally, Sam reaches for his phone, intent on calling his wolf – just to check up on them, to make sure they’re alright.
He dials their number, staring at the screen as a barrage of doubt seeped into his gut. What if he was being too much? What if they needed space? Space from him…
He should’ve been there. He should’ve never let them go and none of this would have happened. It’s his fault they’re injured. His fault David got caught in the crossfire. His fault he wasn’t able to heal all of their wounds. This guilt was accentuated by the burning pain in his stomach and the dryness in his throat. Once Vincent brought him to the blood bank upon William’s direction, there wasn’t nearly enough blood to sustain him. Not only is he starving, but he also feels guilty for not protecting Darlin, despite his promise to fight by their side.
What kind of a mate is he? Is he even good enough to call himself their mate?
He let them get hurt. Would they even want to see him? Would they forgive him? Would he forgive himself–
Sam steps backwards as the door suddenly swings open, revealing David, moving hair out of his eye view, leaning on the door railing. “How long have you been out here?”
Sam felt embarrassed, scuffing his boots against the ground. “Not long.” It’s not a lie. 10 minutes isn't that long, is it?
“Well, come in.” David steps to the side, allowing Sam to pass. “Can’t leave you out here, can I?”
Sam murmurs a small “no” which barely registers in David’s ears as he shuts the front door. “Trouble’s asleep, in case you were wondering, which I know you were.”
The ghost of a smile appears on Sam’s lips at the mention of his mate. “That obvious, huh?”
“Maybe.” David noticed the hoarseness of Sam’s voice, and how strained it sounded. Something was wrong. “You fed, didn’t you?”
Sam stayed quiet. “Yes but…there was barely any blood. Vincent did his best but I told him I’d be fine. I know he didn’t believe me but he needed to go home and look after his partner.” He winces at the soreness of his throat, digging palms into the pockets of his jeans.
“You need more blood?” David asked without thinking. He didn’t mind giving blood. He and Gabe would donate blood to the department for the vampire populous. A tradition held between the father and son, something David continued long after Gabe’s passing.
Sam’s eyes widened. “Are you–
“Offering? I don’t mind if you’re okay with it.” He shrugged as if something like this was ordinary.
David leads Sam into the living room. “I-I appreciate the offer…”
David felt a but coming on.
“But I can’t do that."
“Why not?” He asked, firm as Sam sat beside him.
“It’s not about me right now. I need to look after them.” Sam felt his voice shake, eyes glossy, brimming with tears. “I can’t let them down again David, I can’t, I won’t. I’ll be–
“Hey.” David’s voice is barely a whisper, tentatively reaching out, wiping the tear dripping down his face, staining skin. “None of that. There’s nothing to be ashamed about needing to look after yourself. You put others before yourself all the time, Sam, I’ve seen it. Take the inversion, for example, you didn’t let yourself break down, you were an anchor, you kept me and Vincent going. It’s my turn to keep you afloat and it’s the very least I can do, so please Sam, feed on me.”
David bared his wrist, resting it on Sam’s lap, watching the way his eyes fixated on the pulse point. “And-and you’re sure about this?” He was barely restraining himself, David’s pulse ringing in his ears like a fucking drum, sending his senses and desire for blood into overdrive. “I don’t want you to feel pressured into this.”
“I’m sure.” David gently hummed, light and sweet.
Sam took one last glance at David for confirmation, and he nodded. Sam gingerly took his wrist, slowly sinking his fangs in.
The hollow feeling in his gut was replaced by a warm, sweet feeling as David’s blood soaked his tongue, setting every taste blud ablaze as it guided down his throat. He picked up on the way David’s breath hitched, the feeling of him carefully pulling him closer despite his mind being clouded in the best way possible.
He fed for a few moments more, barely stifling a whimper as his fangs left David’s wrist, breathing shakily. “Fuck.” His voice sounded smokier than usual. “Thank you.” He said, breathless and airy.
“No problem.” Sam hadn’t let go of his wrist yet, pressing his palm over the puncture marks and eliciting a small amount of healing magic into the wound, mending broken skin. “You look a lot better now, at least.”
Sam playfully scoffed, letting his head rest on David’s shoulder. “You saying I looked like shit before?”
“The opposite,” David divulged, smiling seldom against the side of Sam’s forehead. “You look better. You always look good and you know it and I’m sure trouble would agree with me.”
“Speaking of, how are they? Have they woken up yet?”
“Exhausted, no doubt but not enough to lecture me about the need to look after myself. They’re asleep now, at least. Should be up soon enough, they’ll be happy to see you.”
“Any word from the department?” Sam asked.
David shook his head. “No, nothing yet, not since I called and that was hours ago.”
“But they’ve…” Sam pondered on his choice of words. “Cleaned up the scene and Quinn too, at least?”
“One less thing I’ve got to worry about, thankfully.”
Sam looked up at him. “Well, what else is on your mind? Anything I can help with?”
Kind, as always.
“You and trouble.” David sighed. “And you can help by letting me hold you, like this. It feels nice if you’re comfortable with it, of course.”
“Figured and yeah, I don’t mind.” Sam leaned in close as David’s arm wrapped around his middle, keeping him close.
David let his eyes close, hairs messily falling in front of his face, framing it as his features moulded beautifully into peace, leaving Sam breathless at the sight. Sighing soul-deep, Sam remained still, the pair passed time by talking about anything and everything that came to either’s mind, keeping one another close, heartbeats intertwined as soft, gentle laughter passed over them.
Sam realises being looked after isn’t so bad, after all.
…
A little while later, the trio find themselves weaving around each other in the kitchen, the scent of food wafting in the air, as Darlin sits atop the counter, watching David and Sam tend to the food with a lopsided grin on their face.
David returns his attention to his wolf after thoroughly slicing carrots and celery sticks on the chopping board. “You think all you’re gonna do is sit up there and look pretty?”
Darlin feels the corners of their lips tug higher. “You think I’m pretty?”
“Not the point,” David muttered, playfully rolling his eyes as he watched Sam get a handful of onions, cloves of garlic, and leaves of rosemary from the fridge. Laying out the ingredients on the chopping board, he grabs another knife from the cutlery drawer and hands it to his wolf. “Fancy putting those chopping skills of yours to the test?”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that sounded like a challenge, cowboy,” Darlin says, voice smug as his arms wrapped securely around them, warm breath tickling the back of their neck.
“To you, I’m sure it does, Darlin.” His fingers hold theirs, guiding them as they chop all the ingredients in front of them until everything’s cut evenly. “There, that wasn’t too difficult for you, was it?”
“Nope. I think I could get used to this.”
David takes the chopping board, using the knife-edge to pour the cut veg into the pan. “The lack of food in that fridge of yours says otherwise, trouble.”
“Everyone’s gotta start somewhere, right?”
“Food would help but I see your point.” David stirs the veg after adding oil to the pan and allowing it to heat. “How’d you fancy cooking tomorrow’s dinner?”
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." Darlin laughed, hearty, feeling truly happy with the two people they love the most. “I’ll gladly help though.”
A laugh escapes David as turns his attention to the pot on the stove, stirring it once more, leaning forward and sniffing at the steam. Sam mixes the vegetables in the pan, steam filling the kitchen and tickling Darlin's faintly scarred nose.
It takes another half hour to get food plated up and drinks served, but soon enough they're all sitting on the couch (which David had cleaned of blood a couple of hours earlier) with a movie Darlin had chosen playing in the background. The wolves sat on either side of Sam, plates on their laps, eating the last of the food before leaving the dishes on the nearby coffee table.
“Darlin, I’m sure we’ve seen this film tons of times already,” Sam commented, hand intertwined with Darlin’s.
“And I’ll watch it tons of times more.” They grinned as David hummed, resting his head on the base of Sam’s. “Besides, it’s a good movie, don’t you think?”
“Ain’t too bad.”
“My friend and I used to watch it all the time before–
Darlin cut themselves off, ignoring the pang in their chest as memories flooded their mind as if a fucking damn had broke within them.
Not now. Please, not now.
“Well, I don’t need to finish that sentence, do I?” Darlin tensed, sitting upright on the couch and David lowered the volume of the TV, focusing wholeheartedly on them. They weren't used to that, something David plans on changing.
“Have you spoken to them, your friend, I mean?” David asked and Darlin shook their head.
“They want nothing to do with me, rightly so. I’m the one that brought Quinn into their life. I’m the one that fucked things up, not them.” Darlin replied, voice low.
“Bullshit,” Sam said. “Quinn fucked things up, not you. You did the right thing by reporting him, Darlin. You know that otherwise, you wouldn’t have done it. He’s gone. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
Darlin felt the tightness in their chest subside.
“You deserve peace, trouble. Now that the leech is gone, you’re gonna get it, I can promise you that.”
“I hope so,” Darlin whispered, almost inaudibly. “I’m just…tired. Tired of it all. I don’t know how else to describe it.”
“That’s okay. You don’t have to know what you’re feeling for it to be valid. Your feelings matter, trouble. You’re important and you matter – to me, Sam and the pack. Always.”
“You mean that?” Darlin sheepishly asked, not used to kind words.
“I mean it,” David reassures as Sam nods in agreement.
The trio keep one another close as the night continues on and soon enough, the film's end credits are playing on the tv screen whilst David and Sam fall fast asleep, exhausted from the recent events no doubt.
Darlin smiled at how peaceful they both looked, hearts, booming out of their chest.
They gather the plates on the coffee table, take them into the kitchen and wash them up in the sink, drying the sides with a cloth after.
It feels nice knowing they aren’t alone anymore. That they never were and never will be.
They snapped out of their thoughts when their phone rang on the countertop. Their eyes widened as they saw their friend's name appear on the screen. Darlin picks up the phone and holds it up to their ear without hesitation.
Healing takes time, but who said you couldn't start small?