Dutiful Sons (Adam +Winn)
Summary: After Winn confesses his past murders, Adam feels that the Code allows him only one option.
Location: Main Street Arena
Content Warning: Gun Use
Adam had first learned the proper preparation of silver bullets from his mother Leah. Due to its lower density, silver munitions have less overall power than the simpler lead bullet. Likewise silver’s hardness makes it far more resistant to the rifling within a gun barrel, resulting in bullets that are slower and less accurate then standard. This combined with the price of silver and the intense heat required to melt them down for molding made silver bullets a bitch and a half to utilize efficiently without proper training.
Of course, those silver bullets hadn’t been meant for Werewolves. Leah had shown her children how to weaponize silver in order to combat the neverending threat of ghouls and alghouls in the Negev desert. When taking up firing positions with his siblings at chokepoints in lonely wasteland canyons, Adam couldn’t have ever imagined that one day he’d be gunning down friends instead of rabid corpse eaters.
It might seem weird to think holding a position against ravenous packs of alghouls as ‘blissful’, but at least then Adam’s perception of the world was crystal clear.
Perhaps going through garage sales and thrifts stores to pick up cheap silver heirlooms to melt down for bullets was emblematic of what it meant to be a Hunter. Just more sacrifices in a war without end.
So there Adam was, crouched with a rifle just outside a blindspot in the Main Street Arena’s security cameras, prepared to destroy another beautiful thing for the long war.
--
When Adrien Harlow had asked Winn for extra practice, Winn had been… hesitant. It wasn’t only the full moon energizing his blood, makin’ him more aggressive than usual, wakin’ him up from the cobwebs and sleep of the past month. No, Winn knew that there was a target on his back, and the idea of puttin’ anyone else at risk for his past… It made him sick to his stomach. But Adam wouldn’t… Winn knew that Adam wouldn’t even think about hurtin’ a human, not for one werewolf.
Not for one friend.
If Winn could just talk to Adam, he could fix things. Adam wasn’t a bad man. Winn wasn’t a bad werewolf. There were shades of gray and, as much as Winn didn’t regret the decisions he had made, not anymore, he knew he wouldn’t make those decisions again. There was a long chain, and it connected Adam and Winn to death. But it didn’t have to. All they had to do was try.
But what if Adam didn’t want to talk? Winn’d turned the problem over in his head. There was running. Winn could do it. It was like breathin’ — so damn easy, so instinctual, that Winn had almost packed a bag. But he’d made promises, and he intended to keep them. No more running. Not from his past, not from himself.
Winn hadn’t been able to tell Noah. There was so much unsaid between them, that it had been easier to say nothin’ at all. His mouth could be put to better uses. He’d woken up, after, to the nearly full moon casting shadow over Noah’s sleeping form. And he’d thought, This is it. This is where I’m supposed to be. There were other things he hadn’t been able to tell Noah. Feelings that scared him with their intensity, feelings that it felt wrong, somehow, to say in the heat of the moment, or even in the afterglow. But there was no question for him now.
The air was cooling, the wind was changing. Winn could change with it. He would change with it. There were people here now, for him. Friends, family, pack. He had so much left to do.
“Hey, baby,” Winn said into his phone, locking up the Arena behind him. He’d sent Adrien on ahead, wanting him to get home before the sun was down. White Crest wasn’t safe. Noah’s phone had gone to voicemail. “Figure you’re sleepin’ off the moon, but I’m gonna hit my dad’s real quick to grab Denny and then head over to you and Kea. If you wake up, text me what you want to eat. Otherwise, you’re gettin’ pizza again. ‘S like a hangover: Carbs’ll make you feel better.” He laughed, gentle, and then, before he could stop it: “I love you.” A pause, a cough. “See you soon.”
If he could get home quickly enough, he could make sure the first time Noah heard him say that wasn’t over voicemail.
--
When in kneeling position with a rifle, you’ll often notice that the scope’s reticle bounces with your heartbeat. Controlling breathing was a critical part of marksmanship, but you also want to fire between heartbeats, specifically the downbeat of the heart when you’ll be most accurate. Adam had been trained by sheer repetition of the years to screen out both fear and eagerness while aiming. He’d been taught a mantra that personal feelings had no place in a Hunter’s duty.
Hatred, revenge, and cruel sport were all impure emotions that tainted a Hunter’s purpose. There was only a duty to protect humanity by whatever means necessary, the act of taking life just one more mission to fulfill.
But even though he’d confirmed that Winn Woods was a threat to humanity, with a confession no less, Adam’s heart was racing. There should be no feeling or uncertainty now. The Code and Adam’s duty were clear beyond the faintest shadow of a doubt. This wasn’t about what Adam wanted anymore. It was out of his hands now.
But the scope’s reticle was bouncing across Winn’s distant face anyway, as if to mock the dissonance of Adam’s body, heart, and mind. If he was so sure, why was he shaking? Why was his heart beating so fast? Why did some part of Adam still wish that Winn hadn’t confessed to him, allowing him some excuse of plausible deniability?
It would be so easy just to walk away. Who would know? Why uphold a Code he’d already broken? Why kill and die for those who’d never forgive Adam if they knew the truth?
Adam’s finger eased off the trigger for a moment as the urge to walk away from everything caused his eyes to grow hot and wet. Winn’s face blurred in the scope.
But this wasn’t about what Adam wanted.
Adam blinked the tears away, there was a silence between heartbeats, and a shot rang out.
