No. 9 - RUMORS OF MY DEATH HAVE BEEN GREATLY EXAGGERATED
@whumptober2021
@whumptober-archive
presumed dead | (blind) rage | tears
"Do we have to do this?" There was more than a hint of hesitation to his tone.
"We don't have a choice. I need you to trust me."
"But what about Fao-"
"Harrison. Please. Do this for me. Finn? He needs to die."
Things hadn't been the same at the Daniels, everyone moping around and just not doing much at all. Harrison and Steve had paid their respects and then quickly left, making various excuses. Jess, on the other hand, hadn't even shown up. Her apartment was locked, and hadn't any signs of anyone living there whenever Fred had sent someone round to check on her. Her brother promised he'd seen her, relieving some of their worry. Besides, they had so much more to worry about.
Fred hadn’t believed it at first, none of them had. But, they'd seen the body. Steve had assured them it was Finn and there was no foul play, so that was that.
Life had to go on, they didn't have a choice but to. There was a small wake organised, closed casket, and only for the closer members of the gang. It was more formality than anything, a sign of respect for Finn, something that a lot of the previous members hadn't been privileged enough to get.
Since Finn's side operation had gone sideways, Steve and Harrison had gone to ground. Sure, they attended what they had to with the Daniels, but the more they could keep out of the way, the better. The cops had been far too close to arresting one of them, and they couldn't have it. They couldn't have Fred finding out that way, and they doubted he'd be able to get their charges cut too. Steve had to be careful too; the hospital was already suspicious of his police record.
Harrison had work to do, anyway. A loner with no alliances, he was often contacted for various other jobs. Fred knew that too, as did Finn, and always held him at arm's length. After all, someone with such switching loyalties was just asking for trouble. He was useful for finding moles, often recognising men from other rival gangs. His alliance with Fred was stronger than most realised though, and it wasn't ever a coincidence their names would end up on Fred’s desk, and then their bodies in the river.
Fred had organised a raid on a nearby warehouse, a front for a rival's drug ring. While none of what he did was exactly legal, he did have standards, and spent a lot of time making sure others by their turf did the same. Certain weapons and forged documents were often passed without much guilt, but drugs were different. They had their outreach programmes, and often took a large chunk of their community help.
Harrison had agreed to go with them, an apparent favour to Fred. It was a simple enough mission for him; in and out, with just a hint of murder.
While the rest of Fred’s men dealt with the ring, Harrison slipped away. He was quiet on his feet, appearing behind his mark and quickly dragging him away. It was a swift and practiced end, though it still made his stomach twist. It wasn't the first man he'd killed, and he knew it wouldn't be his last. He dumped the body, hoping it would just be seen as a casualty of the raid. He strolled casually back to the rest of the fight, took a few men out that were too close and gaining on Fao, and then hopped back in Steve's van. He'd done what he’d had to do, he wasn't being paid for more than that.
Ever since Finn’s… Death, Fao hadn’t trusted anyone in the family. Something was going on, he knew it. He could feel it. He’d know if Finn really was gone, he’d feel it. And with Harrison sniffing around, it felt even more like something was amiss. Fao enjoyed the other man’s company, he always had done, but with Finn gone it really felt like something was going on.
Even with his suspicions, Fao had been acting recklessly. Too much alcohol, too many cigarettes. He was easy to provoke, always getting into fights, and he was happy enough to go out with Fred on this mission. It would give him a reason to get his blood up, to punch people and get away with it. He saw Harrison take out a couple of people getting too close to him, and then he just… disappeared. Gone, and he wasn’t there when the fight was over. Something had to be going on.
The raid had gone smoothly for everyone involved. Fred had silenced a rival, and Harrison had taken his mark out. It wasn't fully finished, he knew that. It would be a few weeks before they were sure it had had the correct result, but it was a move in the right direction.
It was nervous waiting, Harrison flitting from boss to boss and finishing what he had to. When he got the call it was over, he was more than relieved. It had gone on for far too long, though luckily not as long as they'd originally planned for. Arrangements were made, weapons changed hands, and time moved on. He'd done what he needed to, murdered people he never thought he would. He never wanted to be involved like that again. He said his goodbyes to Fao, thanked Sheila and Fred for their offer to stay, and disappeared into the early evening.
The evening dragged into night, with Fao irritable and unable to sleep. He wasn’t sure who else was up, and he didn’t really care, but he headed downstairs after a few hours of tossing and turning, lighter and cigarettes in hand.
He wasn’t going to bother turning the lights on in the kitchen, but they were already on when he got downstairs, and he could hear someone moving around in there. He’d thought everyone was in bed, but maybe not. Now on his guard, he edged into the room, footsteps light on the wooden floor.
He'd not expected to see Fao so soon, and not like this. He cleared his throat. "Don't shoot."
Fao froze, barely believing what he was seeing.
“‘don’t shoot’?! Don't fucking shoot?! I've half a mind to, now. What the fuck, Finn?!”
He laughed uncomfortably, placing the bag of crisps back on the table. "Shh, you're going to wake everyone else up."
“You come back from the dead and the first thing you say to me is don't shoot?!”
"I - I'm sorry." He softened. "I didn't have a choice."
“I thought you were dead, Finn.” Fao said, his voice cracking. “We had a funeral.”
"It had to be real."
Fao's hands curled into fists at his side. “Why? What was so awful that you had to disappear without telling me? Maybe the alcohol has caught up with me and I'm seeing things. One too many concussions. I need you to explain what's going on, and yesterday.”
"Why don't we take a breath?" Finn backed away slightly, his hands raised. "I'll make coffee, we can get mum and dad up."
“Harrison knew, didn't he?”
"Get some biscuits, relax a bit, y'know?"
“That's a yes, then. Who else knew? Was I the only one?!” Fao stepped closer.
"Harrison had to take me out. There was a mole, he was going to end up hurting one of you."
“And what, you couldn't speak to me? Your brother. Who else knew?!”
"Just Steve." He backed further away, his back hitting the cupboards. "I'm sorry."
“You're sorry?”
"I didn't want to!"
Fao closed the distance between them and grabbed Finn's shoulders, slamming him hard into the cupboards behind him.
Finn groaned, but didn't fight back. "Ow?"
“I could fucking kill you!”
"Go ahead."
“Don't be an ass.” He grumbled, and moved to pull him in for a hug. “I never want to lose you again.”
Finn hesitated before wrapping his arms around Fao. "It's been hell."
“You're telling me.”
"I love you."
“I love you too, dickhead.” He mumbled. “I really need that fucking cigarette now.”
Their hug was interrupted by the hallway light flicking on and the sound of the safety flipping back on. Fred and Sheila stood in the doorway, staring in shock at the pair.
"I need a fucking drink."
Fao laughed hoarsely. “I think we all do.”
"I brought wine?" Finn offered, holding up a bottle after rummaging through his bag. "Jess and I didn't finish it."
pneumothorax | exotic illness | “Definitely just a cold”
Despite his best efforts, Fao was ill. It was unsurprising, really. Winter was well and truly upon them, freezing cold days and grey skies. They'd been understaffed at work, so he had been flat out with overtime and limited days off. Exhausted and freezing cold was not a good combination when the winter viruses were going around.
It had started with the classic sore throat, headache, sniffle. Just a cold. He couldn't call in sick, so as usual, he pushed on through. Everyone told him to stop being so stubborn, to take a day or two off and just rest before he made himself worse, but he didn't listen. There was too much that needed doing at work - they were stretched as it was. Another surgeon down and they'd be cancelling more surgeries. Not to mention what it would do to emergency availability.
When the coughing started, he was well and truly suffering. His chest was always bad, his own doing primarily, and he knew this cold would likely sit on his chest. Still, he didn't have time to take off, couldn't let his colleagues down. He swallowed meds and survived on throat sweets and ignored the endlessly present tickle in his throat. He did his best to ignore the wheeze in his chest, too. It was enough to make even a med student on the ward frown at him. The cigarette he'd had on his lunch break probably didn't help matters.
He wasn't stupid enough to think he was fine, he was just stressed enough not to care. He never had time to be ill. If he wasn't careful, he'd end up getting Finn sick, which would end badly, but he kept his distance and tried his best to protect his brother. He was hardly home, anyway.
His cough got worse and worse, as it often did with these kind of things, and he sounded virtually hoarse. It was late one evening after work, stretched out on the sofa, he couldn't stop coughing. It was giving him chest pain by this point, an ache across his ribs that he couldn't shift.
With Finn hiding at Jess’, and Fred and Sheila unable to talk sense into their oldest son, Harrison was sent over to sort things out. He had a key, of course, and simply let himself in and went straight to Fao, who was still very much curled up in bed.
All it took was a single bout of coughing for him to order Fao into hospital, in a tone that left no room for arguments. Fao didn't really have the energy to protest it anyway.
It was obvious he was pretty ill when he didn't have to wait too long in the ED. After a quick exam and some bloods he was sent sharpish for a chest x-ray, which revealed a significant case of pneumonia. That wasn't the worst of it, though. As was fairly standard for him with a bad chest like this, he had a pneumothorax. It wasn't the first time, it probably wouldn't be the last, either. It explained why his breathing and chest pain had got considerably worse.
Another scar found its place on the patchwork on his chest when they put in a chest tube, and admitted him for observations and IV antibiotics. It was a pretty significant infection that needed monitoring. He really wasn't impressed, and spent the majority of his time waiting for a bed complaining that he really wasn't that sick and he'd do fine with a hot bath and some oral antibiotics. He was ignored, obviously, but he hated being on the wards. He always felt so out of place, so vulnerable. And Finn didn't even visit him, which he hated. He really missed his brother.
Finn still wasn't used to his flares, and he certainly wasn't used to dealing with them on his own.
Living with Fao was great, but he missed the constant availability of his parents, as much as he'd hate to admit it.
He'd been putting off giving into his flare for several days, too busy with uni to allow himself to rest. When he woke up with another migraine, he didn’t have a choice but to reconsider. That didn’t stop him from trying to ignore it, of course it didn't. He made it to the edge of the bed, sitting up shakily. The nausea was horrendous and overwhelmed him, growing worse with each breath.
He couldn't be sick in his room, the panic rising quickly. It was Fao’s flat, he'd tell him off, not to mention he was an adult and he shouldn't do that.
Finn let out a quiet whine, torn between crying out for Fao and just letting it all overwhelm him and giving in. After fighting with himself for a few minutes, he gave in, calling for Fao.
No response.
His phone wasn't in his bed either, so he couldn't call him, or his parents, or Jess. He was stranded.
The dizziness overwhelmed him as he stood, immediately stumbling into the wall. He kept muttering to himself, trying to encourage his body to work, to let him get to Fao.
His feet felt like ice, numb and barely under his control. It was spreading too, he was sure of it.
Electric shocks jarred his brain with every step, the pain making the dizziness worse. He stumbled, falling to his knees with a cry. With his arms outstretched, he caught his wrists as he fell, instinctively pulling them to his chest and overbalancing. He tipped, shoulder slamming into the wall and then the floor.
He couldn't get back up, his body no longer under control. His vision was starting to go too, a seizure definitely looming. Slurred and barely there, he cried out, desperately calling for his brother. He needed help, needed anyone.
Nobody came, and he curled up, helpless and alone, stranded on the landing.
Harrison's attempt at visiting the Daniels had - obviously - gone very wrong. He'd never intended to get in a fight, and certainly not with their newest foster kid. Though he wasn't quite sure he was just a foster. The way he acted with Finn and Fred was more like family, like an actual son. Not that he knew what that felt like.
Sheila was Sheila. She always looked out for her kids, fosters or otherwise. She'd treat them as a member of the family no matter what. Although, making him sleep in the bathroom didn't feel very much like family. And, of course, that had nothing to do with him vomiting all over the car. Not in the slightest.
He stretched out with a groan, squinting his eyes open. Fred was still on guard, sitting at the door to keep an eye on him. He wasn't sure if he was checking he was okay or making sure he wasn't going to cause more trouble, but the company was kind of nice. It was more than he was used to, anyway.
He slowly sat up, his muscles protesting and stomach twisting. He had nothing left to be sick, and hadn't eaten in a few days, so put it down to hunger rather than anything else. He hoped it was.
Fred was asleep, arms folded across his chest as he was propped up against the wall. Harrison didn’t want to wake him, he knew he'd kept him up all night as it was. Sheila was off with Fao, he'd heard her go in to see him late the night before and hadn't heard her come back out. It only added to the suspicion that Fao had been adopted.
He struggled to his feet, shutting the toilet door; he wasn't going to piss with Fred watching. Although, judging by the fact he wasn't in his clothes, he assumed he already had.
"Hars? You alright in there?" Fred rapped on the door.
He jumped. "Uh, yeah. Fine. Just pissing."
"Alright. Let me know if you need help."
"I'm not a child." He snapped.
"It's the most coherent you've been in a few days, excuse me for caring." Fred retorted.
"Sorry." He finished washing his hands before opening the door. "I'm okay."
Fred offered him a smile. "Glad to hear it. Breakfast?"
He shook his head. "Not hungry."
"Hot chocolate, then. Come on."
Harrison groaned, but knew better than to disagree. He followed Fred downstairs, making his way into the living room. He grabbed a blanket from the pile Sheila always kept by the sofa and curled up.
Fred wasn't long, bringing the younger boy a mug brimming with marshmallows and a little cream. He sat by Harrison, waiting for the boy to initiate any contact. They sat in silence for a while, Harrison drinking his chocolate slowly. Fred ended up turning on the TV to fill some of the silence, hoping to alleviate some of the awkwardness.
Harrison took his time with his mug, eventually placing it on the table beside him. He still flinched at the ceramic hitting the slate coasters, taking a moment to relax. He sat back and tried to watch the TV for a bit, but he just couldn't settle. After a while fighting it, he slowly lay down, his back almost against Fred’s leg.
Fred took his time, but slowly and carefully moved to rest his hand on Harrison's shoulder. "There you go, kid. Just chill. You're safe now."
Harrison hadn't seen the Daniels in years. He'd been passed from foster to foster, causing problems wherever he ended up. When his final placement fell through, he had nowhere else to go. He had no support to get on his own two feet, no education to get a job, and far too much alcohol to do much else.
His funds quickly dwindled, and nobody would help him. The little help he did get, he refused to accept it, kicking off until they left him alone. After a week of no electricity or water, he gave in, packed his bags, and headed for the Daniels.
By the time he got there, several buses and a few miles walk later, it was dark. His phone was long out of charge and he knew he should have called first, but he wasn't that considerate. There was a chill to the air, but the alcohol kept him warm despite only being in a t-shirt. It took a few attempts to find the correct door, a few wrong answers and several angry people. He hammered on the door again, leaning against the frame.
Fao liked being home. Uni had been great when he lived away, but after Finn’s accident he needed his family, and Fao was glad to be there for him. Recovery had been slow, but he was always there to help his little brother out.
Everyone was scattered about the house when there was a knock at the door. Fred was cooking, Sheila was upstairs doing something, and Finn was apparently doing his homework (though Fao had his doubts). Fao was stretched out on the sofa reading at the time, the loud sound startling him. Were they expecting someone? Sheila hadn’t said anything.
He stood up and crossed the room to the front door, pulling it open. He didn’t recognise the boy stood in front of him, in scruffy clothes and looking slightly unsteady. He was probably a couple of years younger than Fao, but not much younger than that. He looked skinny and unkempt, and Fao frowned.
“Can I help you?”
"The fuck are you?"
“Uh, I live here?”
Harrison scowled at him. "Where's Sheila?"
“Upstairs. You got a name, kid?”
"Fred, then." He glanced past Fao. "Where's he?"
“Look, who are you?”
"I don't have to answer to you." He swayed slightly. "Just get them, will you?"
“I don’t know who you are. Why should I get them?”
"Because I've asked you to."
“I don’t even know who you are.” Fao said, folding his arms over his chest.
"So go get them."
“I’m not just letting you walk into my house.” Fao’s voice was hard.
"Did I ask to walk in "your" house?"
“I live here, it’s just as much my house.”
"Like fuck is it. "
“So you’re just gonna show up at the door and tell me what is and isn’t my house?”
"Fuck off with your high and mighty attitude, mate."
“You’ve really got some balls, haven’t you? I just want to know what the fuck you actually want.”
Harrison shoved him. "I've told you."
“Hey, hey. Watch it.” Fao growled, pushing him back.
"Stop being such a dick then."
“What the fuck is your problem?”
"I've asked you to get Fred and you're being an absolute dick." He squared up to Fao. "So, yeah. You're my problem."
Fao pushed him back, hard. “Oh, fuck off. Stop being such a fucking cunt.”
Harrison stumbled back, tripping over the front step and landing sprawled in the driveway. "You're the fucking cunt."
“Yeah, whatever mate.”
He struggled to his feet. "You're a fucking wanker."
“Says you.”
He swung for the other boy, frustrated beyond belief. It wasn't fair.
The other boy was slow and uncoordinated, and Fao countered his punch with his own, sharp and angry. He wasn't taking any more shit from him.
Harrison staggered back. Fao's punch had landed, making its mark on his cheek. Blood welled in his mouth and he swore before he spat it out. He swung again.
Harrison's counter attack landed well, Fao reveling in his hit and too distracted to dodge. He staggered back into the hallway, reeling.
"Dickhead." He spat.
Fao gripped the wall, his head spinning. “You’re fuckin’ insane.”
"Maybe you shouldn't be such a wanker."
“Maybe you shouldn't just stand there and act like you own everything!” Fao snapped, his voice harsh.
"Coming from you, that's rich." Harrison shook his head. "I asked for one thing and you think you rule the place."
“Almost as if it's my house.”
"Yeah, right."
Fao's cheek, where Harrison had caught him, was throbbing, and he was sure a bruise was forming already.
“You've yet to give me a good reason why I should let you in.”
"I didn't ask to come in, did I?" He spat. "I asked for Sheila or Fred."
“What do you want them for anyway? How do you even know them?”
He wasn't going to admit that. "I just do, alright? Please."
“I'm not getting them without knowing why.”
"For fuck's sake!" He snapped, trying to balance himself on the doorframe. "I've just fucking asked you to get them!"
Fao just reacted as the other boy moved to lean on the doorframe, and swung another punch at him. He had to look out for his family.
Harrison dropped like a sack of shit, landing in a crumpled heap. He hadn't even seen Fao’s punch coming. Sheila, on the other hand, had.
"Faolan!"
Fao wasn’t a complete arsehole, when the other boy hit the deck he moved to crouch next to him, but Sheila’s shout made him flinch. Fuck.
"Go get Fred. You've done enough." Her tone was hard as she placed her hand on his shoulder. "Go on."
“I didn’t…” He said quietly. “I jus’...”
"Move it." She clicked her fingers at him. "Now."
His words died on his tongue and he stood up, bolting back into the house. Guilt curled in his stomach, and he went in search of Fred.
Sheila crouched by Harrison, gently rubbing his shoulder. Blood was pouring from his nose and his lip was split. She rolled her eyes. Boys.
Harrison jerked back from her hand, disorientated and swinging immediately. Nothing landed and despite his blurred vision he recognised Sheila, reaching for her with shaky hands.
Fred was cooking, and Fao was filled with dread as he stepped into the kitchen, bravado completely drained out of him. “F-Fred?”
"What's up, kiddo?"
“Sh-Sheila wants you. D-door.”
He turned, still half-heartedly stirring. "What happened?"
He couldn't do much more than lamely shrug his shoulders, struggling for words. “She wants you.”
Fred knew there was more going on, but also that he wasn't going to get any more from Fao. "Stir that. I'll back in a minute."
Fao nodded. He could stir, he'd be out of the way then. He moved closer, aware of the blood on his knuckles. He was shaking, virtually trembling.
Fred wasn't long, not entirely surprised to find Sheila crouched over a very confused Harrison. It had been a few years since they'd seen him, but he'd often turn up every few years anyway. The teenager had already thrown up over the front step, though Sheila had managed to start to control his bleeding nose - it was obviously broken.
The pair helped Harrison to his feet - he didn't weigh much, more lanky than anything- and slowly took him through to the living room. They'd have to go to hospital, there was no doubt about that, but they needed to get him sorted enough to be fine in the car.
Fao kept quiet in the kitchen, leaning against one of the counters to keep himself upright. His legs felt weak, his chest a little tight. He’d fucked up, they were going to kick him out.
Fred called for Finn before he headed back through to the kitchen. Though Fao had attempted to stir, they needed to leave and it would be ruined by the time they got back. Fao looked like he'd seen a ghost, and he had a pretty nasty bruise blossoming around his eye too.
"Grab a hoodie, She’s taking us to hospital."
Fao startled, looking up. “‘m fine. I’ll jus’ go up to my room, out of the way.” He said quietly.
"Not a chance."
“‘m fine.”
"Yeah? That bruise looks fine. Hoodie, car, five minutes."
He didn’t have a choice, did he? He toyed with just hiding in his room anyway, and then thought better of it. He didn’t want to get into any more trouble. So he abandoned the cooking, and rushed upstairs to grab a hoodie, feeling distinctly lightheaded.
They'd already managed to get Harrison into the car, a dish between his legs for when he inevitably threw up. Fao was directed to the front seat, Finn shoved in the back with his mum. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but had quickly been distracted.
Fred turned to Fao, offering him an ice pack. "You don't look too great. Are you going to puke as well?"
He shook his head, but took the ice. “No.”
"Are you gonna pass out on me?"
“Probably not.”
"You feel dizzy?" He checked as he pulled off the drive.
“Not really.” It wasn’t a complete lie.
"So, yes." Fred rolled his eyes. "Let me know if it gets worse."
“Not dizzy. I’m fine.”
He let out a heavy sigh. "We're not impressed with all of...this. We'll deal with it later, but right now, we need to make sure you two are okay."
“Sorry.” He looked down at his lap. “I can go back to my flat after we’ve come back.”
"We're not having a repeat of last time."
He made a noise in protest. “I won’t.”
"Don't worry. We'll get it sorted."
“Sorry.”
"Not me you need to apologise to, is it?"
“Oh.”
"He definitely came out worse off than you." Fred glanced at Fao. "You've got a surprisingly good punch on you."
“Rugby.” He mumbled.
"Yeah. Better be careful on nights out." He said. "Don't want you getting in trouble."
“‘m careful.”
"Apparently so."
Fao was quiet, staring down at his lap, the bruises blooming over his knuckles. “Sorry.”
"Hey." Fred reached out to rest a hand on Fao’s knee. "It's going to be okay."
Fao flinched, pulling away with a sharp intake of breath.
"Sorry, sorry." Fred placed his hand back on the steering wheel.
“It's fine.”
He hummed. "Sure. That's why we're driving to A&E at this time of night."
“I don't need A&E.”
"That one does." He gestured to Harrison. "Kinda your fault."
“I didn't mean to…”
Fred raised his eyebrow. "Looks like you did."
“I-” Fao cut himself off. “Nevermind.”
"At least we don't need a guard dog."
“I was only trying to…”
"Break his nose? Did a good job at that."
“No.” He protested, his voice wavering.
"What, then?"
“Doesn’t matter, does it? Still fucking did it.”
"I'm not swearing at you, I don't appreciate you swearing at me." He warned.
“Sorry.” He mumbled, and decided not to say anything else.
Fred didn't bother to reply. There was no talking to him when he was like that, and he didn't really have the energy. Harrison was still throwing up in the back seat, Sheila having her work cut out trying to soothe him and keep Finn distracted.
Every time the other boy vomited, Fao winced. It wasn’t exactly pleasant, adding nausea to his guilt. He had half a mind to bolt when they got to the hospital, but he knew he wouldn’t get away with it.
Fred pulled in, dropping the car close to the entrance. "Fao, you go in with Sheila and Hars. I'm going to take Finn home. You can call me when you're done."
He nodded, pulling his hoodie closer, and got out of the car wordlessly. He waited for Sheila and Harrison, looking down at the floor.
Sheila said goodbye to her husband and son, walking the other two into the emergency reception. "I don't know what went on between the two of you, but if you two cause any problems in the emergency department, so help me god."
Fao shook his head. “Won’t.”
Harrison's agreement was with his head in the sick bowl, looking up at Fao and then Sheila. "He started it."
“Didn't.”
"Did too."
Fao huffed. “It's always my fault.”
"Boys. That's enough."
Fao shrugged but fell silent. They headed inside and got checked in, Sheila sat between the two boys.
Harrison was seen to first, thanks to Fao knocking him out. She didn't trust Fao not to run off, so made him sit outside the bay as Harrison was seen to. They had a bit more to check with Harrison too, the younger boy having just turned up on their doorstep.
Fao hated being stuck in the ED. Especially when he wasn't really all that injured, and he didn't really have Sheila for comfort. She was preoccupied keeping Harrison on the straight and narrow. It did make Fao wonder what the point of the both of them coming in was. Of course, he was stuck waiting, the A&E corridors cold and unwelcoming.
With Harrison reasonably settled in a bed in majors, Sheila headed to the corridor to find Fao. She sat heavily beside him, turning to look at the bruises on his face.
He looked over at her. “He okay?”
"Settled. How are you?"
“Fine.”
"Yeah, you look fine."
He shrugged. “I've had worse. Don't really need to be here.”
"I still want you checked over."
“I'm fine.”
"Better than he is."
“My fault.”
"I don't know what happened between the two of you. That's for you to sort out when you're both better."
“I fucked up.”
"I doubt it was all your fault."
“Might as well be.”
"I don't think so."
“Is in Fred’s opinion.”
"Did he say that?" She asked, nudging him.
“Pretty much. Said it was my fault we had to come in.”
"Well, you did knock Harrison out."
“So it’s all my fault.”
"Did you need to knock him out?"
“Obviously not. I didn’t mean to knock him out.”
"What were you meaning to do then?'
“I don’t know, okay?!” He snapped. “He showed up, I didn’t know who the fuck he was, he got aggy, I didn’t want someone coming in the . house when I had no idea who they are and they were acting out. He looked like he was going to force his way inside, so I swung. He’d already swung at me, so… I reacted. I didn’t want anyone getting hurt.”
Sheila was calm. "Why didn't you get one of us?"
“I don’t know. Because he was asking for you like he owned the place. And he was drunk, it put me on edge.”
"All the more reason to get one of us. Or just walk away, shut the door and all that."
“I thought I could handle things. Y’know, look out for everyone.”
"That's what we're there for."
“It’s different. I don’t know.”
"We're the adults. The adult adults. We're here to look after you."
“I jus’ wanted to look after things.”
"I appreciate that, but it hasn't worked out too well this time."
“I know.”
"You can't just get away with it."
“You think I don't know that?”
"There has to be some punishment."
He shrugged. “I don't expect otherwise.”
"I know, but I don't want it to be like it used to. The problem is that we have to have some repercussions for our actions, you know?"
“I understand that. I was never under any illusion that there wouldn't be? I fucked up.”
"I just don't want you to think we're out to get you." She said softly, leaning against him. "You were brave standing up for us, but it was just directed at the wrong person. With some stubbornness in there too, I bet."
He shrugged. “I guess.”
"I don't know what went on, but he's not a bad guy, you know?" She continued. "He's been through a lot, not unlike you."
“He started the fight.”
"Did he?"
“He shoved me.”
"Doesn't surprise me."
“So forgive me for being somewhat on the defensive.”
"I don't blame you for that."
“But you're still mad at me. Why can't I just go back to my flat?”
"Because I don't want you to go back and just cut us off." She said, frustrated. "You go back to your flat and you get off scot free from us and you beat yourself up."
“You keep talking about consequences. Whatever they are, I can take them, but I'd rather you stop pussyfooting around them and just tell me straight. I'm assuming you're not going to beat the ever loving shit out of me, so I kind of need to know where I stand.”
“Of course we're not going to hit you." She took a steadying breath. "Right now, I need to focus on Hars and getting him out of hospital. We can talk about the consequences when you're back home.”
Finn had decided to ride out with Fao, much to both his parents and guards' upset. He didn't understand why there was such an issue - the kingdom faced a threat and he should have been there to face it. Just because he was the prince, it didn't mean that his life was any more important.
They'd travelled a day or so on horseback before the terrain became too unsteady and the weather too poor to carry on. They'd done the best they could to find shelter, and then to make a fire.
Fao was much more willing to start one than he'd normally be, which only increased Finn's suspicions that he'd directed them further away from where he'd intended to go. His lack of reluctance, however, was not unwelcome; the cold had seeped into Finn's bones and he couldn't shake it.
Fao crouched on the cold floor, trying to breathe some life into a little fire. He struggled a little, everything soaked, and swore under his breath as he did.
“Finn? Can you see to the horses? Make sure they’ve got water.”
"There's plenty around them." Finn groaned. "We're almost drowning in it."
“They can’t drink the rain.”
"What do you think I'm going to get them?"
“You know what I mean. They can't drink from the fucking sky, can they?”
"They should be able to." Finn huffed, standing to sort them. "Would make it easier."
“Can you drink from the sky?”
"Yes."
Fao rolled his eyes. “Of course you'd say that.”
"Can't you?"
“Well, yes, but that's not the point.”
"It's precisely my point."
“Just water the horses!”
"You're extremely grumpy today."
“I'm always grumpy.”
"Moreso today." He told him, settling down by the struggling fire. "Can't you hurry? I'm freezing."
Finn ignored the following complaint from Fao, choosing instead to sort his pack out. The food they'd caught earlier made his stomach turn and he hastily put it away. One night wouldn't be the end of the world. Instead, he curled up by Fao, using the other man's body for warmth.
Fao frowned, and softened as Finn pressed up to his side. He adjusted his cloak to sit over his shoulders and keep him a little warmer.
“Are you alright?”
"I'm just tired, I can't get warm." He admitted quietly.
“The fire will be warm soon. It just needed a little patience.” He said gently.
"I'm still cold."
Fao shrugged off his cloak and fully draped it over Finn. “Here.”
Normally, Finn would have protested, but instead, he took it gratefully. "Thank you."
“We can’t have you getting cold.”
"Why do you always sound like such a dick when you say things like that?"
“I was being genuine!”
"Still sounds like a dick." He said. "I knew you weren't. I'm just used to you taking the piss out of me."
“I'm capable of being nice.”
"Sure you are."
The fire was starting to grow now, finally taking hold. It warmed Fao, so hopefully would warm Finn too.
“It happens on occasion.”
He hummed. "I guess. Are you okay to take watch?"
“Yeah, go on. Get some rest.”
Finn shuffled closer. "Thank you."
“Anything else you need?”
He shook his head, already drifting. He just needed some sleep, he'd feel better once he was warm and rested.
“Sleep well.” Fao murmured, shifting his weight a little to sit better - it was going to be a long night.
Finn slept fitfully, finally stirring just before dawn broke. Despite the fire still burning, he was cold. The pain in his head was crushing, and nausea curled in his stomach. He knew it wasn't anything he'd eaten; he’d skipped the evening's meal. Fao had moved from where Finn had curled on him, now sat opposite from Finn as he tended the fire. Finn struggled to his feet, he needed to relieve himself and lying down wasn't doing him any good. He balanced himself against the trees surrounding him, heading away from their camp for privacy.
“Morning! You're up early.” Fao called, carefully watching Finn as he headed out of the camp.
Finn grunted in response, too asleep to bother with an actual reply. After a few minutes, he headed back, stumbling towards Fao.
Fao didn't miss the way the Prince stumbled. “Careful. Are you alright?”
"I don't feel so good." He admitted quietly.
“Sit. You've not eaten in too long, it's probably that.”
His stomach twisted at the thought of food. "I'm not eating."
“You ought to eat.”
Finn sat heavily, leaning against Fao. "No."
“You need your strength. What's wrong?”
He shook his head. "I must just be tired."
“You don't look particularly well.”
“I don’t feel particularly well. I told you that.”
Fao sat up straighter. “Talk to me?”
"About what?"
“How you feel. Dizzy?”
He shook his head. "Off balance."
“Is that not the same thing?”
"Of course not."
“Sick?”
"I haven't been."
“Feel it?”
He hesitated before nodding slightly. "Yes."
Fao rubbed his arm, in a gesture he hoped was soothing. “I suppose that's why you don't want to eat.”
He leaned closer instinctively. "It is."
“I've got you.”
"How far away are we from home?"
“Far enough.”
"We weren't following the trail, were we?"
“No. We had to go off and out deeper.”
"You were just keeping me away from the fight. I knew I shouldn't have trusted you."
“I have a duty to protect you, Finn.”
"And I have a duty to this kingdom!"
“And that duty requires you to stay alive.”
Finn groaned as he stood, swaying slightly. "My duty requires me to protect it!"
“If you go and get yourself killed, you’ll be no use to anyone. The best way to protect the kingdom is to keep yourself safe.” Fao said, standing up alongside Finn. “Careful. Sit back down, come on. You’ve gone pale.”
He pulled away. "No."
“Finn, come on.” Fao said, reaching out for him. “You’re no good to anyone if you’re passed out.”
"Don't touch me." He snapped. "I'm getting Toren and going."
“Don’t be ridiculous, Finn.” Fao snapped.
He rolled his eyes. He didn't need to follow Fao’s orders, he needed to be away from him.
“Finn!”
Finn made it halfway before he had to stop, bracing himself against a tree. He clasped??? his head with a quiet whimper, falling against the bark. He felt as if he'd been poisoned, and the only person around him had been Fao.
Fao rushed over to him, an arm on his shoulder. “Finn, come on. Let’s sit down again.”
He didn't have much of a choice, his legs already given way beneath him. "Was your fault."
Finn was heavy in his arms, and Fao groaned. “Careful, careful.” He said quietly. “I’ve got you.”
"You've poisoned me."
“I’ve not, you’re alright.”
Finn shivered, wrapping his arms tighter around himself. "I'm not."
Fao reached out for his pack, pulling it closer and digging around for the vials of liquid he kept. Finn often got like this, ever since an accident as a young child. “I’m gonna look after you. Take some deep breaths for me?”
"You're doing it again." He tried to pull away.
“I’ve always protected you in the past.” He said gently. “Do you trust me?”
It was harder to focus. "No."
“It’s alright, Finn. I’m going to help you.”
"Please."
“You need to drink this, Finn.” Fao said gently, fingers closing on the cool glass. “It’ll make you feel better.”
"It's poison." He reached a shaky hand to push it away.
“I promise it’s not.”
"You drink it."
“It’s for you. Your medicine.”
"No."
“From the physician. To help you feel better.”
"Swear?"
“Swear on my life.”
Finn took it from Fao, quickly downing the liquid. It was foul, as most of the cocktails were, but Fao had told him it would help. Despite his confusion and paranoia, he knew that Fao wouldn’t really hurt him. He'd always protected him.
“That’s it. It’ll make you feel better, hmm?”
"It better." He murmured.
“It will. I’ve got you.” Fao said, an arm around the younger man. “I’m here to keep you safe. I’m always going to keep you safe.”
Harrison hadn't slept well since he'd run from Fao. He'd stayed close to the pack's territory, hoping they'd assume he'd have returned north, or tried somewhere else completely. It had been a few weeks without them getting too close to him, so it must have worked to some extent.
He did miss them, the few days with Fao reminding him of home and how well he'd fitted back in. When he did sleep, he dreamed of them, of running with the pack on the full moon, of Sunday lunches with the Daniels.
He gave a heavy sigh, semi dozing in the little bit of sun left. A strange scent piqued his attention, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. He took a careful breath, trying to pretend to still be asleep. It was definitely a different pack, and definitely danger. With his arm over his face, he couldn't see them, so he listened carefully. There was more than one of them, maybe two or three, and they were getting closer. He couldn't understand them though, their hushed tones too quiet and accents too strong.
He just had to stay quiet and they'd pass by. It wasn't like he was a danger to their pack, he wasn't there for any reason other than passing through. They shouldn't bother him.
Harrison let out a quiet groan. Their footsteps had stopped in front of him. This wasn't going to end well.
He slowly dropped his arm, sitting up against the wall and all too aware he was cornered.
"What do you want?" He growled at them, three like he'd thought.
"I wouldn't speak to us like that." The bigger of the three leaned in. "You've got no leg to stand on here, pup."
"God complex much?" Harrison snorted, shaking his head. He didn't have time for them. "I'm not staying here much longer, I'm not a problem."
"You're in our territory, that is a problem."
"Your territory? Yeah, right. You're like twelve."
"Get up." They growled, reaching for him.
He snarled, aware he was in public and couldn't shift. "Leave me alone."
"Make this easy for yourself. Get up and come with us."
"Like fuck." He spat at them, pulling his sleeping bag over his head.
The kick to his stomach surprised him, letting out a yelp and a groan. The second wasn't, but hurt all the same. He was hauled to his feet, the two wolves pinning his arms. As much as he tried to kick out, it was pointless. There was a sharp scratch in his arm and he turned to snap at him.
"Oh, shush. That'll make you easier to deal with. Walk."
Harrison continued to fight as he was dragged away, though it slowly began to drain from him. Steve had tested enough medications on him to know he'd been drugged, the all too familiar twist in his stomach. He'd still have a few more minutes before it fully kicked in, he knew that, so did his best to fight against them.
Despite his fight, he slowly slipped under. Every time he blinked, everything seemed to change, the ground disappearing from under his feet. He could hear himself groaning, trying to swear and cuss the others out, but it was just so distant and unimportant.
The alpha of the neighbouring pack panicked when they found Harrison, immediately worrying the other wolf was dead. He could smell his own pack's involvement, and the worry only grew. It had taken years to get over their last dispute and they couldn't have another one.
Harrison was loaded into the back of a pick-up, thankfully barely conscious. Each movement jarred his broken bones and made breathing even harder.
Blood pooled where it shouldn't, too much on the floor and on his clothes. His right eye was swollen shut, his nose broken, and his face covered in dried blood. Fresh blood seeped through the cuts, mixing with the dirt and sweat, stinging his skin.
If he'd had the energy, he'd have screamed, but that had long since gone. He barely had enough for each breath, already breathing faster than he should be.
He knew it was punishment, for both hurting Finn and for running from Fao. He deserved it. Though his attackers never smelled like his pack, they could still have ordered someone else to do it for them. In the little sleep he'd had, they'd plague his nightmares. Over time, they were hurting him too.
He never fought back, even as they shouted and screamed at him, telling him how useless he was and he'd be better off dead. If they'd let him go, he would be dead. He supposed that would be too easy, too much a kindness.
None of that mattered anyway, his thoughts jarred back into the present by the truck turning off. He wouldn't survive much longer. Even with the wolf's faster healing, he couldn't keep up. He almost wished he wouldn't. He'd had enough.
He was dumped by the road through the woods, a few miles from the Daniels'. They wouldn't say anything, hoping they'd either find him dead and be too upset at their loss to do anything, or the wolf would get hit by a car and make it look like an accident.
The drop from the tail only snapped his leg further, his femur pressing against the skin. The pain was immense and, thankfully, he passed out once more.
Ever since Harrison had given him the slip, Fao had been worried. He knew it was his fault, he should have kept a closer eye on the other wolf. Of course Harrison would try and lose him, it's what he always did. And he'd not exactly been in the best shape, either. Better than he'd been when he found him, but still too thin and with the hint of illness and exhaustion clinging to his scent.
He wanted to stay and look for him in the city, but when he spoke to Sheila she told him to come home. They needed him, work needed him, and if Harrison really needed them, he'd find his way back to them. He always did. So Fao went home, started back up at work again, and tried to stop the gut twisting anxiety every time he thought about Harrison. At least work was busy enough to exhaust him.
A few days later, he was out running in the woods around their territory. It helped to clear his head, and truthfully he wondered if he might find Harrison.
So when he caught his scent, out on his run, at first he thought it was wishful thinking, the memory of a scent he was so desperate to find. But he stopped, took in another deep breath, and realised it was definitely him. Even human, his nose not as good, he could smell Harrison, and blood. So much blood. There was something else, too, another scent he couldn't quite place.
He followed it quickly - desperately - to get to his friend. When he found him, it was worse than he could have imagined. He was beaten, broken, bloody and unconscious in the dirt. A quick glance told him whoever had left him here was long gone, and he crouched beside Harrison, hands skimming gently over him.
Recovery had been really slow. Painfully slow, really. So long in hospital, Fao had lost track of the endless days dragging by. But he’d gotten out, and gone home, and done the endless appointments and physio and therapy and meds and jumped through all of the hoops they’d given him. Eventually, in an effort to find some of his old freedoms back, he found himself a flat in London, not far from where he’d lived as a student. Not long after moving in he acquired a housemate, through a mutual friend. Fao and Ollie got on really well, they clicked almost immediately, and it was nice to have someone who didn’t pity him, hadn’t known him before. The dog came not long after that, a little scrap of a puppy they found at the side of the road. Arrow was a sweet little thing, though he kept Fao up all hours of the night needing to be bottle fed. He was worth it. It was a purpose again. It made it so much easier to deal with everything when he had a little life depending on him.
He'd even started entertaining the idea of getting a job, which was as terrifying as it was exciting. But before that, he had one final surgery to get through. It was expected, it had been on the cards from the start. He'd spoken at length with his consultant, and it was a necessary evil to get things where they should be. At least it was planned, routine. They could schedule everything, and plan ahead, and nothing was rushed or panicked.
When Fao showed up to the hospital that morning, though, he felt awful. He knew it was the nerves, but he'd slept terribly and he had an awful headache already. It wasn't exactly off to a good start. Ollie had driven him in, which at least meant he had company, and as he nervously got settled in his bay, he didn't feel so alone. It really did make a difference.
He hated this side of things. Recently, he hasn’t felt like much of a doctor at all, but being back in hospital just made it so much worse. It was so familiar, it was almost like being teased. He longed to be on the other side, rushing around doing this and that. He'd kill for an elective list, even. Just for something to do. He desperately missed it. He sat chatting to Ollie, which kept him entertained enough, asking about whatever he'd done at work over the last few days. Elective orthopaedics wasn't that exciting, but it was far more exciting than overthinking everything.
He was so nervous he couldn't settle, shifting his weight about and fidgeting in his chair. Twice Ollie told him off for crossing his legs. Do you want a dislocation on top of everything else?! He'd asked, exasperated.
He didn’t have to wait long, though. Given his history, he was first on the list, and after speaking to his consultant and his anaesthetist, they took him down to theatre.
They let Ollie down with him, on account of him knowing his way around theatres. It was nice, to have him with him. They’d not known each other long, but Ollie seemed to know just what he needed, just how to keep him calm.
He didn’t even feel the cannula go in, didn’t panic as the drugs went in. Ollie was there, he was safe, and as the world faded to black he was surprisingly calm.
From there, he was intubated and quickly taken into theatre. Ollie was left to wait, and to update Fao's family. Thankfully, it wasn't a particularly long surgery, though it took longer than the surgeon had initially estimated.
Eventually, Fao was transferred out into recovery. Ollie could stop pacing the cold theatre corridors, and rushed to be with him. He didn't come around well, which was standard, apparently - Ollie had never been there before. But Fao had told him, as had Sheila. He held his hand and soothed him through the nausea and the shaking, and once he'd settled off back to sleep, he called Sheila to let her know things were done and he was okay.
Of course, as soon as Fao called her, Sheila headed in. She’d bargained with him before his surgery, eventually being allowed to visit after, instead of taking him in. She knew he needed his space, wanted his independence, but he was still her son. She was going to be there for him no matter what.
The staff recognised her from the countless previous admissions, letting her straight through. She met Ollie first, pulling the young man in for a hug (Whether he wanted one or not, really). It wasn’t a surprise that Fao had come round poorly, but it was a relief to know he’d had someone to be there with him. With Sheila there, Ollie disappeared to grab a coffee - god knows he needed it.
She sat by Fao’s bed, waiting for her son to wake up. He was fast asleep and she didn’t want to wake him. At least when he was asleep, he wouldn’t be in pain - she knew his options for pain relief were limited and the staff were often stingy.
He stirred after a while, pain pulling at his attention and dragging him from his sleep. He was warm and his limbs were heavy, but he shuffled in bed and blinked open his eyes.
“Mum?” He managed to get out, forcing his eyes to focus.
“Hey, sweetheart.” She smiled at him, taking his hand. “I’m here.”
“Mm. ‘m ‘kay.”
“I know. You did so well.”
“Ollie?” He asked, after a long pause.
“Sent him for a coffee.”
“Sleepy.”
“That’s alright. Why don’t you go back to sleep?”
He nodded, his eyes already closed. It wasn't hard to drift back to sleep, despite the pain. He slept for a while, not stirring as they checked on him. He was aware of them transferring him back to the ward, the sound of the lift and the changing of the light as the bed moved.
He didn't properly stir again until a bit later, when Ollie was back with Sheila. Somehow, he felt worse than before. More woozy, and the taste of blood in his mouth was stronger. His breath hitched and he did his best to move in bed a bit, trying to sit up more.
“Easy, Fao. Take a moment, let me help.” Sheila was by his side immediately, trying to help.
Sitting made the dizziness worse, his blood pressure sinking, and he just felt wrong. He whimpered, trying to clear his throat. It was sore anyway, and dry from the oxygen, but suddenly it was as though he couldn't breathe. He coughed, and then he couldn't stop coughing, and then blood coated his tongue. It caught in his throat, too close to before. He tried to spit it out, but everything hurt, and he reached blindly for Sheila, panicked.
“I’ve got you, it’s okay, it’s okay.” She promised, stroking through his hair. “Just breathe, you’re okay.”
He couldn't breathe. That was the problem. The world was hazy and he was dizzy and he couldn't breathe. He was too hot then too cold and it was just like it had been after the crash. He coughed and then retched, managing to bring some blood up, but it wasn't enough. He was still stuck, choking.
Ollie shared a look with Sheila, worried. This was bad.
“You’re okay, Fao.” She continued, trying to keep her son calm as Ollie called for help. She pulled Fao onto his side, an attempt to help him clear his throat.
He whimpered as she pulled him over, between the coughing and gagging. Everything hurt, and the room span with the change in position, making him feel even worse.
Ollie was in the corridor at this point, barking orders at people. It wasn't often he was snappy, he rarely even shouted, but there was some sense of urgency needed.
There wasn’t much Sheila could actually do, trying to soothe her son. There was so much blood, far too much, and she knew it wasn’t good. She tried her best to get Fao’s attention, to try and ta;l him through it. He was obviously stuck in a flashback too, which only made things worse.
Soon enough, the bay was a hive of activity. The nurses called in the ward doctors who were desperately trying to get in touch with Fao’s surgeon. But he was in the middle of a list, and when his registrar finally arrived on the ward, he paled somewhat. They then had to find a consultant who was free, and an available theatre (and team) to find out what the fuck was going on, and fix it.
Things were quickly sorted, breathing got somewhat easier for Fao, just briefly, though the taste of blood was still overwhelming, between the retching. He was very quickly transferred back to theatres, and unlike before there was no taking their time. In a busy theatre he was out in seconds, no soothing words and gentle touches. There was just the ice cold burn of the drugs, and then nothingness.
That left Ollie with Sheila in an uncomfortably empty bedspace. She was covered in her son's blood, and he awkwardly cleared his throat. “Uh, Sheila, maybe you should, uh, change?”
She couldn’t help the jump, lost in her thoughts. “I’ve not got anything to change into.”
“Fao’s got stuff.” He said gently. “He packed way too much.”
“Uh, yeah. Of course. I’ll change.” She stood, going through Fao’s bag and pulling out a hoodie and top. “I won’t be long.”
Ollie nodded. “Go on, I’ll wait here.”
“Not like we’ve got anywhere to be.” She said as she left, mainly to herself. She didn’t take long, dumping her clothes in a patient bag and heading back to Fao’s room to wait.
“True. He’ll be okay. Finn around?”
“He’s working. Said he’d be up when he could. I text him to tell him there were complications, that he had to go back to theater, but he hasn’t seen that yet.”
“Oh, Fao did tell me he was on placement. Poor sod.”
"I swear they try and one-up each other on everything."
“So I've heard. He'll be okay.”
"Fao didn't have a clue where he was."
“All those drugs make it hard at the best of times.” Ollie said. “We can just hope he doesn't really remember it.”
"Fingers crossed." She said quietly.
There was a knock at the door, Finn appearing around the corner. He frowned at the pair in front of him, the lack of his brother, and the fact his mum was in one of Fao's hoodies.He gripped the doorframe to steady himself.
"What happened? Where is he?"
Ollie moved forwards. “Finn. It went well, but once he'd woken up a bit, there were… Complications. A bleed. He's back in theatre now.”
He shook his head, looking at Sheila. "You said he was fine."
"He was, he was out, he'd come round well enough for him, but…" She shrugged. "Like Ollie said, he had another bleed."
“I was with him when he came round, he was alright. But something must have happened, a bleeding vessel or a bad suture or something. I can find out later, if they don’t say. He’ll be okay, they’ll sort it. These things happen.”
"These things don't just happen." Finn snapped, jerking away from Sheila’s arm.
"Finn, that's enough. We're all stressed, it doesn't mean you get to be a dick. Sit down and wait."
He glared at her before he turned to Ollie. "Sorry."
“No, it’s alright. You’re right, Finn, it doesn’t ‘just happen’. It shouldn’t have happened. But it’s a surgical complication, surgical complications happen. He’s with a good team, all we have to do now is wait.”
He flopped into the chair by his mum. "He had a good team before."
“I know. It’s shit, isn’t it? Scared the shit out of me to see him like he was. He’ll be alright though. He’s been through worse.”
Harrison and Fao had finally started to get along, much to the pack's relief. It gave Sheila and Fred a (well deserved) break, and Finn a distraction.
They'd spend afternoons after school in the Sanctuary, dicking around until Sheila called them in for tea or bed.
Fao loved being able to hare around the sanctuary after college. Once he’d burned off his excess energy, he always focused better. He found his homework easier, and he slept better too. Finn was quickly becoming like a little brother to him, and Harrison was a friend. He didn’t get on with many people at college, it was nice to have someone.
Him and Harrison often got caught up playfighting, Finn left to his own devices somewhat. The older boys were bigger and stronger, he couldn’t always play with them. They didn’t even notice him slip away deeper into the sanctuary, whilst Fao and Harrison scrapped.
It really wasn’t fair anymore. Harrison always used to play with Finn and now he had Fao, often leaving Finn alone. With nothing to do and nobody to play with, Finn set off to explore.
They'd been doing some work round the back of the sanctuary, repairing where someone had tried to break in and ruin it all. It wasn't all bad news, though, as they'd ended up receiving a grant from the local council, and the extra publicity had led to an increase in funding too.
He knew he'd be told off for playing around there, but assumed that exploring would be fine. He was only sniffing around anyway.
Despite his bravado, he was still skittery, especially when he was by himself. He was spooked by a bird flying at him, seemingly from nowhere, and he jumped back, tripping over his paws.
He didn't feel the pain at first, but as he tried to stand, it burned through his leg and down his side. It surprised him and he yelped, overwhelmed with the pain for a moment. Finn tried again, trying to stand. It was agony.
He turned to nose at his side, met with barbed wire and blood. His leg was the same, and every movement tightened the wire around his leg. He yelped again, his cries growing more desperate as he struggled.
Fao and Hars must have been too far away, or maybe they'd even left. He continued to struggle, desperately trying to get free. His muzzle was covered in blood, mainly from his leg and side, but also from his attempts at pulling the wire off. He howled again, as loud as he could. It was filled with pain and fear, terrified he'd be left alone to die.
Fao and Hars hadn't heard him at first, his yelps far too quiet over their own playful growls and the soft breeze that carried through the woods. They carried on scrapping, leaping about chasing eachother, until Finn's howl pierced the air.
Fao stopped dead, digging his claws into the dirt. He called back to Finn, trying to let him know they were coming, before he rushed off in the direction of the howl, nose to the ground to find where he'd been.
Finn was too busy howling to hear Fao, panic overtaking him. He continued to struggle, screaming in pain as he got more and more tangled.
Finn's pained screams terrified Fao. What the hell had he gone and done to himself? As he got closer, Finn's scent was overwhelmed by the scent of blood. Lots of blood. Not long after that he saw him, caught in a pile of scrap, what looked to be barbed wire. He rushed over, pressing his nose to Finn's head.
At the sight of Fao, his screams got more desperate, trying to reach him. He leaned into the older wolf, paws scrabbling on the floor to get closer.
Fao rushed over, trying to stop Finn from struggling too much. The more he wriggled, the more Fao could see the wire pulling at him, ripping through fur and flesh and causing the bleeding to get worse. He pressed up close to him, trying to soothe him. It was going to be okay, they’d make sure he was.
Finn couldn't move with the weight of Fao on top of him. He was too stressed for Fao to help, though his cries slowly dwindled into whimpers, his whole body shaking.
Fao whined softly, trying to reassure him. He twisted to look for Harrison. They needed help, and now. This wasn’t good.
Harrison wasn’t as fast on his paws as Fao, but had been stood there long enough to see what had happened. He jutted his nose towards the camera, a warning to Fao. They couldn't shift, even if he went to get help. They couldn't blow their cover.
He'd run back and get help, Finn needed Fao more than him, and the other wolf would probably be better at calming him down.
He bolted off, paws pounding against the ground. He just had to hope someone would be free.
Of course they were next to a camera. If Fao wanted to shift, he'd have to leave Finn. And he couldn't leave Finn without someone else there with him. He whined again, trying to stop Finn from moving so much.
Finn kept struggling, pressing his nose to Fao and then turning to bite at his leg. Why wasn't Fao helping?
Fao huffed, and gently licked Finn. He sent him an image of the camera, and then tried to send him one to soothe him too. The more he moved, the more it was going to hurt.
It hadn't occurred to Finn about shifting, but the more he thought about it, the better it seemed. The camera didn't matter, they could sort that out after, he was sure. He whimpered, pawing at Fao with his free paw and trying to beg him for help.
Fao shook his head, nosing gently at him. He just had to stay still, it would be okay. They’d get him out. Harrison would come back and Fao could move away to shift and they’d get him out of the mess.
Harrison had grabbed as many people as he could, out of breath and only barely covering himself with a towel. The pack sprung into action, Steve and Sheila heading to Finn while the rest shut the cameras down and went ahead to prepare the clinic. It didn't sound good.
Waiting for the pack was like torture. Every minute that dragged by felt like an hour, watching Finn bleed onto the dirt. He was clearly terrified - Fao could feel how scared he was. He was in a lot of pain, too. He wished he could do something to help, but it was just a matter of waiting.
Steve ran ahead, his medical kit slung over his back. He arrived at the boys' side breathing heavily as he knelt down. Finn was covered in blood, but nothing was pouring out. He'd need to get him back to the clinic before doing anything, but he could already see Finn would need stitches.
"Hey, you're okay. You're okay, Finn. You're doing so good." He started murmuring, quickly drawing up a sedative - it would be easier to assess without the risk of him shifting or pulling away.
Fao whined, gently nudging Steve's side. Could he shift and help without getting caught?
Steve shook his head slightly, pushing Fao’s muzzle away for show. "Not yet." He whispered. "They're still on."
He sighed, and went back to fussing over Finn. If he couldn't shift, he could at least keep Finn as calm as possible. It was hard to tell, but it looked like Steve was about to sedate. That would help, but it would probably scare Finn more for a bit.
"Thank you." He returned to fussing over Finn, gently and quickly getting a cannula in. "You're okay, Finn. Just relax, okay?"
Fao whined, desperate to do more. But he couldn't, not unless he shifted. He nosed at Finn again, all he could do.
Finn snarled at them, trying to pull his paw away. Steve was quick to respond, a low growl in warning as he gave the meds. They wouldn't take long to work, but Finn needed to stay calm.
Fao stretched out to lay next to Finn trying to send over a calming thought, forcing himself to relax to relax the younger boy. He sent images of the two of them asleep together, the way they slept during the moons.
Despite the panic and pain, Finn slowly began to relax. He nudged Fao, trying to fight the sedation. Steve stroked Finn's shoulder, quietly shushing the young wolf. It would be okay.
The sedation finally took hold, leaving Finn more out of it than not. He didn't fight as Steve began cutting him free, choosing instead to press closer to Fao. His wounds were deep, and they'd have to fully sedate him to sort them, but they needed to move him. He'd be okay.
Fao stayed with him, careful to avoid the wire as Steve cut Finn free. Once they got him free he could shift and help Steve at the clinic, but for now he was still useless. It felt like an eternity to wait.
Sheila finally arrived, nodding to Fao. "Your bag is just by the tree. Go shift."
As soon as Sheila spoke, Fao darted away to grab his back and shift. He hurriedly pulled on his jeans, rushing back over as he pulled a t-shirt on. His hands were covered in blood, but he had to get back to Finn. He had to help.
“I’m here.” He breathed.
He was quick to help Steve with Finn, trying to stop the bleeding the best he could. There was no time to think, to wait about for instructions. They only had a limited time until the sedation wore off, they needed to get him moved and into the clinic as quick as possible.
Steve got done as much as he could before taking a step back. He couldn't do any more without the clinic. He kept murmuring to Finn in hushed tones as he picked the wolf up, hopping on the back of the ?truck?. He invited Fao up with him, the other boy very obviously calming Finn down.
It wasn't a far drive back to the clinic, but it felt like an eternity for Sheila. She spent the drive glancing over her shoulder, checking on Steve and Finn. Her youngest had started to fight through the sedation, whimpering and whining as he struggled. Without the clinic though, Steve couldn’t give any more. He quietly shushed Finn, running his fingers through the small bit of fur that wasn't covered in blood.
Fao sat with Finn and Steve, doing his best to soothe the younger wolf, keeping a careful eye on his breathing. It wasn't long to the clinic, and he helped to get him out of the car and straight through into their theatre. Finn would need proper intervention to fix this. It wasn't ideal, but it was the best thing for everyone.
Finn batted a paw at Fao as everyone rushed around him. He made a quiet whine in protest, but the anaesthesia was strong in his system. He couldn't have done it without Fao, had to tell him that he loved him. He huffed at him, his head too heavy to lift.
Fao leaned over to kiss his nose. “You're okay. We've got you. Just go to sleep, it's alright.”
For once, he did as he was told, slipping under. With Fao close, he didn’t panic either, letting the anaesthesia take over.
He stroked over his ears. “I love you. We've got you.”
Despite one of us being on nights and dying after their body had a major overreaction, we finished it!
Shout out to my long suffering girlfriend @7thchevronlocked for being my partner in crime! I also 100% didn't write goldfish first instead of girlfriend
Fao still missed her every day. It got easier, of course it did. Little by little, his family and friends filled in the cracks left from where her loss had shattered him. He wasn’t whole, not by a long shot. But he was together, at least. Back working in the desert that had claimed her life. Back with the people she’d left behind.
His sleep was slowly getting better - not that it had ever been very good. With her had been different, somehow she kept the nightmares at bay the way nobody ever had before. Finn did a good job, that was for sure, and it was nice to curl up against his Mum when he felt awful, but nobody had made him feel safe the way she did.
Febuwhump Day 27 - “I wish I had never given you a chance.”
Harrison rolled over in bed, pressing closer to his boyfriend. He was still asleep, and Harrison grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He wrapped an arm around him, holding Fao close and enjoying the warmth.
He slowly drifted, stuck in the early morning haze of sleep and reality. It was peaceful there, the sound of Fao’s breathing and the gentle rise and fall of his chest. It was home.
Fao stirred, caught between sleep and wakefulness. With a soft groan he snuggled closer into Harrison, seeking the contact subconsciously. He drew in a sleepy breath, expecting to be soothed by the smell of Harrison, his laundry powder and aftershave and something else that made him special. Instead, he stiffened awake in moments.
Vodka.
He pulled away with a disgusted noise.
“You went out last night.” It was an accusation, not a question.
“No, no.” He moved closer again. “Course not.”
“You have. Don’t think I don’t know.”
“C'mon just go back to sleep.”
“No. You fucking stink. I worked overtime and you went and got pissed. Of course you did. Should’ve known better.”
“I can take a shower?”
“You stink of booze.”
“No, I don’t.” He stretched a hand out. “Not even had anything to drink.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me!”
“I’m not lying.” Harrison grumbled, trying to get closer to Fao. “Come on, come back an’ cuddle.”
“No. I can’t believe you. Vodka? After everything? Vodka!”
“It was only a couple…” He whined. “You were gone and Finn’s with Jess an’ I was alone. I didn’t want to take any of yours… I went out, so what?”
“So what?! You went out to god knows where and drank god knows what with god knows who! Wouldn’t the first time if that’d landed you in hospital. And of course it was vodka. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Don’t be like that. Please.”
“Can’t believe I trusted you. I wish I’d never given you a chance.” Fao stood up, feeling sick. “I wish I’d been there to help, instead of you going and doing whatever it is you do.”
Fao’s discharge was long anticipated. After a long, long road, he was finally well enough to be let home. Scars, physical and mental, were still healing. He knew it hadn’t been easy on his family, some of the things he’d said and done he couldn’t take back. He’d hurt them, he knew that. But his medication was working, some of the darkness had lifted off of him, and he felt like he could keep going. He’d get through it, they’d be there for him.
The car journey had been painful, and exhausting. When he finally got home he’d never been so grateful to step inside, see the cat curled on the sofa.
Febuwhump Day 25 - Hostage Situation (Alt Prompt 5)
Tomas had found Harrison in the woods, hunting at the time. He was sorting his haul when the men snuck up on him from behind, pinning him immediately. He struggled and fought, but the others had come prepared, darting him and waiting until he was unconscious before dragging him back.
Harrison woke on the floor, arms tied behind him. He was dizzy and felt sick, felt completely awful, and had no idea where he was. The room he was in was cold and bare, save for the shackles he was in, and the rack in the room. He was caged in, not that he could go anywhere, being tied up, and the bars were thick enough he wouldn’t be able to break through them.
Days dragged on and he drifted in and out for a while, the pain growing in his shoulders and chest. Through his brief moments of consciousness, more bruises and wounds appeared on his body, though he had no recollection of them occurring. There was blood on the floor, dried blood on his lips, movement and breathing just caused pain. Twisting, stabbing, burning, everything. It was agony. The shackles bit into his wrists, bruises bloomed on the skin underneath, and numbness spread into his fingers.
By the seventh night, he was exhausted, mumbling to himself and barely making sense. It was enough for Tomas to take it and run, using his murmurs of Finn and the castle to his advantage. He managed to convince the man he’d betrayed the crown, which only hurt him more.
Harrison barely raised his head as Tomas entered once more. Nobody was coming to save him, they never would. He was a lone wolf, and that’s how he was going to meet his end.
“Now, now. We’re off to find your beloved prince.” Tomas teased. “I’d hate for you to miss the show.”
Two men followed Tomas in, taller and broader and definitely not to be messed with. Harrison couldn’t even find the fight in him to protest as they hauled him to his feet.
Hands bound, they tied him to their saddle and practically dragged him through the forest. It was hard to keep up, hard not to trip over his own feet. He just had no energy, there was nothing left. He just about stayed upright, braced on the rope, and heard the shouts of Finn and his guard, followed by galloping hooves in the opposite direction. He prayed they’d got away, prayed nobody would be hurt.
It was Finn’s final shift of the week and he was definitely looking forward to his first weekend of the year off. The ED was steady, not too busy, not too quiet. Not that anyone dared to say that word. They’d all been burned by it before.
Sure enough, just the thought seemed to bite him, a prealert for a few adults involved in a minor RTC. He glanced at the clock. It would probably be his closing job.
He got sorted, made sure his team were ready, and then waited. They weren’t too far away, so it shouldn’t be too much longer, but it still made him anxious. It was the reason he loved the ED, the little thrill of excitement before the patient.
“Male, mid forties, passenger in car. Travelling about 40mph, head on, car coming towards them hit the driver’s side and sent them spinning. Air bags deployed.
"He’s been conscious but confused with us. Initially GCS 12, now GSC 14. We’re unsure if he lost consciousness, he doesn’t remember the accident itself, and struggled to remember his name. Complaining of pain in his head, obvious contusion to the right hand side of his forehead, unsure of c-spine pain so we’ve collared and boarded to be sure. No obvious long bone deformities, he has been moving all four limbs and can feel us touching.” They handed over his vitals, looking to Finn to finish the handover.
The colour had drained from his face though, all professionalism gone as he leaned over the figure. “Dad? It’s alright, we’ve got you.”
turnnoffyourmind
areudirty
izzy806
jbbartram-illu
andulkaphoto
snowghoul
2087