Fawning
bear hybrid!Price, coyote hybrid!Soap, doberman hybrid!Gaz, raccoon hybrid!Ghost, deer hybrid!reader
When coming home from a long mission, all you want to do is get back to your barracks and take a well-deserved nap in your nest. Getting spooked by some of your teammates leads to an old instinct arising, and they have to work to bring you back to them.
1.4k words, cw: none
Hybrids were supposed to lose certain instincts as they got older. The “baby instincts”, they were called, phased out as a hybrid passed certain developmental milestones. Gaz had outgrown the puppyhood instinct to chew, Johnny was no longer as yippy as he used to be, and Simon didn’t feel the need to climb up something every time he felt he was in danger. Even Price had stopped trying to constantly initiate play fights. You had also stopped showing the endearing traits of a young deer hybrid, but things were different with you. Being a prey-type hybrid, it was hard to get used to life with a pack of predators. The beginning of your placement in the task force was rocky, and everyone’s instincts went haywire for the better chunk of a year. With plenty of patience and long talks, however, you eventually settled in like you were one of their own.
That didn’t mean you didn’t still feel those natural flight or fight instincts around them, though. It was a subconscious matter and often never presented itself, but you always required a full day of isolation after the rough deployments and missions. The snarl of a bear or disorienting yowl of a coyote was enough to make the fur on your little doe ears stand on end, and the constant noise was ceaseless during the fighting. That’s why you were hastily padding down the hallways of the quiet base once the team had returned from a grueling, two week long field operation.
Johnny always had extra energy after missions. Gaz, being part canine as well, tended to be dragged along for his post-battle excursions. Had you not been so sleepy and worn out, you would have heard the little yips and chatter of the two men just around the corner. But your ears were drooping, eyes half-lidded, and mind consumed with thoughts of your nice, warm nest waiting for you in your barracks. You didn’t know what was coming for you until you made a left turn at the end of the hallway, getting caught up in Johnny’s and Gaz’s antics.
It was Gaz that saw you first. He stepped to the left, intent on getting out of your way to let you continue on your path. That led to Johnny whipping his head around and spotting you, and then it all happened so fast. A rush of fur, a loud snarl, and the sound of two feet jumping at you was the last thing you recalled before your mind went blank and you dropped to the floor. Poor Johnny was just trying to play and wear off some steam, and the animal side of his brain didn’t recognize what he had done until Gaz scruffed him and gave him a correctional bite to his ear. “Don’t fucking push the doe, you idiot!” he growled.
“Wha- I didn’t! She must’ve tripped,” Johnny shot back, ears pinned in upset over the accusatory tone. They waited for you to get up, to clarify what had happened… but you didn’t. Johnny and Gaz stared down at where you were lying belly down on the floor, arms and legs tucked neatly under your stomach as your chin rested firmly on the cool linoleum. Your eyes were so wide, ears very flat against your head. The little poof of your tail that normally stuck straight up to display the white patch on the underside was now tucked directly against your bottom, showing nothing but the deep brown of your pelt. If they focused carefully, they could see a slight shiver to your ears and tail.
“Doe?” Johnny tried to get your attention. He crouched down, gently poking your side with a claw, but it was like you were frozen in time. His ears pinned against his head, tail tucking as he let out a loud whine, very clearly frightened he had seriously harmed you. “Gaz, what is this? I didn’t think I touched her, but she’s all petrified. She’s… is she breathing?”
With the analytical charm of his inner doberman, Gaz assessed you. The slew of questions from Johnny rushed past his ears as he thought. This reaction from you was nothing they had seen before, and it had been triggered so quickly. Gaz looked down the hallway and gave a sniff of the air. Price was nearby. Simon was a little further away, but if he was loud enough maybe Gaz could get both of their attention. With Johnny still whining by your side, Gaz opened his mouth to bay out a deep barking sort of howl. Within seconds, the pit-pat-pit-pat of two pairs of feet was rushing down the hall.
“Bloody hell, can’t a bear relax without-” Price started, coming up short as his eyes raked over you. Behind him, Simon was a chittering mess of agitation over the noise. Only when Price thumped him in the belly with a heavy hand did he shut up. “She’s fawned,” Price murmured. He looked between the other three before warily sitting down in front of your face. “This is supposed to be a baby instinct. She should have grown out of this ages ago. What happened?”
The guilt overwhelmed Johnny so bad that he whined while shuffling to hide himself behind Gaz. The latter gave a quick run-down of the events, which earned Johnny a disapproving look from John and another angry chitter from Simon. “I didn’t mean to,” he feebly tried to argue. “Was just all doped up from adrenaline, ye know? I didn’t know she would collapse.”
“Never mind it, Johnny,” Price sighed gruffly. He was keeping a watchful eye on your face, studying how you blinked only when your eyes watered from keeping them open for too long. The heavy weight of his hand atop your head made your body rock slightly when he would drag his claws through your hair, your muscles refusing to move a single inch. “You two should probably leave. She’s scared of you right now, and I need to try to work her out of this.”
Johnny opened his mouth to protest, but a swift nip to the shoulder from Gaz was all it took to send him scampering down the hall with his tail tucked between his legs. Once it was just you, Simon, and Price, they started the process of trying to bring you back to your right mind. Simon sat where you could see him, hands tucked under his legs in a show that he wasn’t a current threat. Price started to pat the top of his thigh when you managed to peel those dilated eyes up to his.
“C’mere,” the big bear cooed. There was an ounce of hesitation in your body, but the slight stirring you made signaled progress. Price was patient, still repeating the cycle of pat, pat, coo in order to coax you closer to him. “You're safe, little doe. I’ve found ya, yeah? Done chased off the big bad coyote that was gonna getcha.”
After a few long minutes of gentle encouragement, you dared to wriggle an arm out from under your body. The way you crawled was slow and low, keeping a vigilant eye and ear out for anything that could harm you. The second your little palm met Price’s knee, his hands were under your armpits and dragging your curled up body close to his own. Price always gave a good bear hug whenever you needed to feel that extra little bit of protection, and right now was no different. Huge thighs and arms encircled your torso as he squished you close, allowing you to feel his strength and slow heartbeat. Slight chuffs emanated from Price’s throat, and soon a few chitters joined the mix.
Simon wasn’t one for comfort, but even he knew that their little doe needed all the help she could get. Deft, clawed fingers rubbed over your ears, making them flicker from the ticklish sensation. It was a satisfying process for Price and Simon to watch your pupils retract and see your muscles become more fluid. It wasn’t long before your eyes were fully closed, chest heaving with the deep breaths that the pure exhaustion left over from the adrenaline brought about.
Price shifted you out of his arms and over to Simon’s as they stood. The grumpy bear persona he was known for was starting to show itself, and he grunted to Simon before starting to thomp down the hall towards the common room where Johnny and Gaz were sure to be. “You get her settled in bed, Si,” he instructed the still-vocalizing racoon. “I’m going to go rip Johnny a new one for not keeping his snout in check.”
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Pt. 2