[ As the seconds tick on, Gavin becomes more and more... aware, if that makes any sense. He has to be stoned, it doesn't make any sense otherwise. Everything is too loud and bright and it's making his teeth hurt. He clenches them, hissing in and out through them as Hank drives.
[ Hank pulls into his driveway right as Gavin starts whining. It figures of course, that's just how it is. ]
Alright, we're here.
[ Hank parks the car and quickly goes around to the passenger seat, reaching over to grab Gavin out of the backseat. Yeah, you're still getting manhandled. ]
[ Why is Hank yankin' him around so much all of a sudden? He almost forgets he'd just been riddled with gunshot woulds when he drags him out and they make their way to his front porch.
He manages to look down, expecting more dripping blood but... there isn't any. It's caked and congealed to the remnants of his shirt, down his jeans, but under the ripped fabric is his unharmed stomach. ]
[ Hank foregoes the front door, carrying Gavin around the back to the cellar. Don't worry, it's fairly cozy down there, except for the fact that everything is bolted down and there are scratch marks all over the place. ]
[ And... they're not going in Hank's front door. Around the back... and... wait what. The basement. Is this where Hank reveals he has some sex dungeon or some shit?! What the fuck!
He fidgets a little. ]
You better start with why we're not going in your front door, asshole!
I don't want you peeing all over my nice furniture.
[ Hank answers facetiously. Okay, that's not the real reason, but the joke will be a lot funnier in retrospect.
Don't worry, there's a cot and a fridge and it all looks very... bunker-y, but it's not like it's a jail cell down here.
Well, except for the chains under the bed but there's a perfectly good reason for that. And anyway, Hank drops Gavin on the bed somewhat gently, though you'd never know it going by the way he rolls his eyes. ]
Look, you're about to get really pissed at me so I figure if you're gonna have a tantrum, you might as well do it where you can't break anything.
[ And that was just all kinds of not the kind of response he was expecting, so he physically and verbally fumbles as they head down into it. ]
W-What the fuck are you babbling about?
[ Do you have a piss fetish, Hank? What is happening! You throwing him on the bed isn't helping, his heart is suddenly pounding like a sledge hammer. ]
I don't need a fuckin' excuse to be angry— Jesus Christ why is everything so goddamn loud?!
[ His jeans rubbing against the sheets, the hum of the fridge in the corner (the food inside smells really good), Hank's breathing, the overwhelming stench of his drying blood. ]
[ Hank drags a chair over to the side of the bed. "Drags" as in, he knows the loud, sharp sound will sound especially shrill to Gavin but at least it should get him to pipe down. He can hear Gavin's heart going a mile a minute, and personally, he's not really sure what to do about these pack instincts that are gonna come with the territory here but Hank would take care of Gavin whether he was 'his' responsibility or not. No one deserves to just find this shit out the hard way. ]
Alright, sit your ass down and let's get this shit over with.
[ Hank takes a breath and lays his hands flat on his thighs, bracing himself for the onslaught of questions. ]
The answer to your questions is the same reason you're not fucking dead right now, Reed. You're gonna think I'm fucking crazy, but trust me. [ He's dead serious. ] I saved your life, but you're a werewolf now. I turned you.
[ It definitely does. He hisses, although it's actually closer to a growl, and he covers his hears. He glares at Hank, biting the insides of his cheeks hard.
He... huh. Something feels weird, in the back of his mind, when he looks at Hank now. Something different. Something fierce and... loyal? He can smell the whiskey he drinks on his breath, his cologne, the scent of Sumo on his clothes. Thirium and plastic from Connor.
Gavin drops his hands and listens and— ]
What the fuck? [ It's meant to sound sarcastic but it comes out a little more hysterical. ] Werewolf?! You are fucking crazy, Hank, that—
[ He's about to go on a tirade but it stops as abruptly as it starts. Gavin sort of crumples and looks down at his stomach that he knows was riddled with fatal wounds not too long ago. He looks at his hands. ]
[ Yeah, the disbelief and the crazy talk was about what he expected. Hank just crosses his arms and nods. ]
How long have we known each other? Have I ever been the type to mess around about this? I wouldn't joke about this shit, Reed.
[ The healed wounds really speak for themselves, Hank knows he doesn't have to push too hard in that department. If Gavin remembers getting shot, he should know what should have happened. ]
That's right. You didn't. I wasn't about to explain all the fucking technicalities while you were dying, so here we are. Ask away.
[ That's the thing, he's totally right. And in hindsight, there sure were a lot of things that Hank just... walked away from with hardly a scratch. All those red ice raids, never getting injured when others did.
Fuck. Fuck.
He takes a shaky breath and looks back up at him, putting his hands down on his lap. Gavin chews on his lip for a moment, noting how quickly the chewed up flesh in his mouth healed over. ]
So... what? You my master or whatever now? Am I your little errand bitch? What's the arrangement here?
[ Of all the things, that's hardly the first Hank expected Gavin to ask about. ]
Woah, hey, that ain't how I do things. You think I saved your life so you could be some kinda servant to me? Please.
[ Hank raises his hands placatingly, shaking his head. ]
Look, I'm not going around to start my own pack or whatever the fuck. And to be completely fucking honest, I've never turned anybody, so I dunno what comes next, as far as you and me are concerned. I promised... some people I wouldn't. But I wasn't gonna let you die for saving my dumb ass.
[ He's used to people only ever expecting something from him, it's the first thing his mind jumps to; his mouth twists around a bit as he absorbs that, clicking his fingernails together. ]
Y'mean there isn't a DPD werewolf squad?
[ The quip is to hide the... interesting little feeling that flutters in his gut at that answer. Jesus, Hank, don't start making him think he's special or anything. Saving his life when he's been nothing but an asshole to you for years? Fuck.
Fuck, why is Hank such a goddamn good person? It really makes him want to do better. He swallows thickly. ]
I... thanks. [ He mutters it. Then let's just move on past that real quick: ] So, what? We get toothy and fuzzy on the full moon?
Yeah, Fowler didn't wanna invest in a dog whistle no matter how much I tried to sell 'im on it.
[ Hank snorts at the image. Yeah, you know dog whistles? Those suck. But don't worry, you're definitely not special, Reed!! Hank's just personally indebted to you and now you're stuck with him for the foreseeable (very long) future. ]
Pretty much. I stock up on raw meat and stay down here till it blows over. [ Hank shrugs. There's more to it, but that can wait. ] But from now on, things're gonna be louder, you're gonna smell everything until you get used to it and figure out how to block shit out, that kinda thing.
[ Good luck getting your cats to play nice now, Gav.... ]
[ Gavin rolls his eyes. The great irony of all of this: turned into a werewolf when you're a massive cat person.
He sighs and rubs at his temple a moment. ]
Sounds like a party... wait! That's the reason you take a day off once a month? Oh for fuck's sake—
[ He just sighs as the feeling comes and goes. For all the boundless energy he now possesses, he feels fuckin' exhausted. The complete change in existence and life will do that to a guy.
So he sighs and looks back down, picking at his destroyed shirt. ]
Yeah, smelling my old blood is driving me nuts. I'm gonna put a pause on this journey of self discovery until I can get cleaned up.
Pretty much. Ain't always cause I'm drunk off my ass.
[ Hank just shrugs. It's obvious now why he usually takes the day off -- Gavin will definitely need it on his first time, that's for sure, and Hank will need it so he can guide him. ]
I got a shower upstairs you can use. Sumo's smelled worse, he won't mind.
Werewolf and can still get drunk, huh? That's hilarious.
[ Yeah it's certainly... yeah. It's almost like there's a new set of thoughts in the back of his mind, his subconscious, giving him information and... suggestions. Like a growling, wolfy angel and devil on his shoulder. The longer he's settling into this, the more aware of it he becomes.
He picks at the dried blood and looks back up at Hank. ]
So you're not just gonna spray me with the hose? [ Quipping is definitely a defense mechanism. ] Yeah, uh, that'd be great.
[ He gets up, head rushing a little. He rubs at his temples again. ]
[ Hank's not gonna mess with him too much, since he's just getting used to all this stuff. But he can't stop himself from laughing at his quips. They're both assholes, let's be honest. ]
Yeah, I thought about it but then I'd have two wet mutts in my house. And I get enough shit from Sumo, I don't need you dragging mud in the house, too.
[ Hank's there despite everything, standing up as Gavin does and making it clear that he can lean on him if he needs to. The fact is Gavin almost died. He did die, technically. Hank knows the less they talk about it, the better. ]
I got food upstairs too. Doubt you wanna eat any of the shit that's down here right now.
[ Raw meat is great and all, but it's kind of jumping off the deep end here... ]
[ Somehow getting Hank to laugh makes him feel a little more grounded, but he still wobbles a little and absently puts a hand on his upper arm. He just blinks a few times, takes a deep breath, and slowly straightens his spine like it's suddenly made of tissue paper or something.
He rolls his eyes, about to snark something else before— Wait— He looks at him, brows raising. ] Wait... can you talk to dogs? Is that what you're saying?
[ Because if Gavin can talk to dogs he wants a refund because he's a cat person, goddammit.
At the mention of food he realizes his stomach is still churning and the thought is entirely unpleasant at the moment. He grits his teeth a little. ]
Maybe. Let me shower first and I'll think about it.
[ With that, he starts to hobble over to the stairs. ]
[ Hank shrugs. Talking to dogs isn't even the weirdest thing he can do, Gavin. ]
Kinda. I mean, they listen to me. I can, uh... kinda tell how they feel? Got a lot better at understanding their body language. But it's not like Sumo's gonna bark the words to Old McDonald or anything.
[ Hank smirks, still giving Gavin sass for all that he's going to help him up the stairs. See, he can be a good guy sometimes. ]
Not for nothing, Reed, but after recovering from that much shit -- if you don't eat you're gonna wanna claw your skin off in a couple hours.
[ Welcome to being kind of a dog, Gavin. It's not as bad as it sounds (ok, it definitely is,) but you get used to it. And the sounds will likely get less annoying once you've eaten something... though with the full moon coming up, that's. Hm. Yeah. ]
You got time.
[ Hank helps him up the stairs, leading him to the back door. Sumo's so excited to hear Hank is home, he's definitely whining behind the door. ]
Sure, right. [ He gives Gavin a look, taking in the-- yeah, there's blood everywhere, those clothes have got to go. ] I got some old shirts that might fit you. And pants... hope you like sweats.
[ Oh fuck there's Sumo and... yup. He 'understands' that whine. Goddammit! He's not gonna stop being a cat person because of this, Hank!
He grunts when they're inside, giving said dog a little look. Hey, yeah, we're cousins now or some shit Sumo. Whoop-dee-doo. ]
S'fine. [ Fuck it. He shrugs out of his jacket, which is mostly intact, but then just peels off his tattered shirt right then and there. His torso is still caked in dried blood. ] Not gonna be picky.
[ huh, well, that sure is a shirtless Gavin in his house now. That's... hm. Yeah, that's a thing. The blood kinda ruins the look but at least it makes it easier for Hank to snap out of it and stop staring.
Hank snorts. ]
That's fucking incredible, coming from you.
[ Of course for all the shit he gives him, Hank still shows him the way to the bathroom. Sumo is trailing behind them all the way, sniffing at Gavin and just being really happy because Hank is home and he brought a friend and he's been so lonely all day. ]
Yeah, yeah, I'll deal with you in a second, Sumo.
[ Hank pats him on the head, smiling before he turns right back to give Gavin shit. ]
I have my moments. [ He hasn't been shirtless around Hank since he was a rookie and he's so very past the point of giving a shit at the moment. (He hopes, in the back of his mind, that getting turned didn't like... erase his tattoo on his back.)
...and why is Sumo really fucking cute to him all of a sudden? Jesus Christ, what is happening to him?! He meanders to the bathroom and huffs. ]
I won't wreck your bathroom, don't worry. [ He pauses a moment, working his jaw back and forth. It doesn't click like it used to. ] But... thanks.
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At least frustration is an old friend. ]
Are we there yet, Jesus Christ—
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Alright, we're here.
[ Hank parks the car and quickly goes around to the passenger seat, reaching over to grab Gavin out of the backseat. Yeah, you're still getting manhandled. ]
In we go, kid.
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[ Why is Hank yankin' him around so much all of a sudden? He almost forgets he'd just been riddled with gunshot woulds when he drags him out and they make their way to his front porch.
He manages to look down, expecting more dripping blood but... there isn't any. It's caked and congealed to the remnants of his shirt, down his jeans, but under the ripped fabric is his unharmed stomach. ]
What the fuck, Hank? What's going on?
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Yeah, I'll explain it all in a minute.
[ Hank foregoes the front door, carrying Gavin around the back to the cellar. Don't worry, it's fairly cozy down there, except for the fact that everything is bolted down and there are scratch marks all over the place. ]
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He fidgets a little. ]
You better start with why we're not going in your front door, asshole!
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[ Hank answers facetiously. Okay, that's not the real reason, but the joke will be a lot funnier in retrospect.
Don't worry, there's a cot and a fridge and it all looks very... bunker-y, but it's not like it's a jail cell down here.
Well, except for the chains under the bed but there's a perfectly good reason for that. And anyway, Hank drops Gavin on the bed somewhat gently, though you'd never know it going by the way he rolls his eyes. ]
Look, you're about to get really pissed at me so I figure if you're gonna have a tantrum, you might as well do it where you can't break anything.
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W-What the fuck are you babbling about?
[ Do you have a piss fetish, Hank? What is happening! You throwing him on the bed isn't helping, his heart is suddenly pounding like a sledge hammer. ]
I don't need a fuckin' excuse to be angry— Jesus Christ why is everything so goddamn loud?!
[ His jeans rubbing against the sheets, the hum of the fridge in the corner (the food inside smells really good), Hank's breathing, the overwhelming stench of his drying blood. ]
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Alright, sit your ass down and let's get this shit over with.
[ Hank takes a breath and lays his hands flat on his thighs, bracing himself for the onslaught of questions. ]
The answer to your questions is the same reason you're not fucking dead right now, Reed. You're gonna think I'm fucking crazy, but trust me. [ He's dead serious. ] I saved your life, but you're a werewolf now. I turned you.
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He... huh. Something feels weird, in the back of his mind, when he looks at Hank now. Something different. Something fierce and... loyal? He can smell the whiskey he drinks on his breath, his cologne, the scent of Sumo on his clothes. Thirium and plastic from Connor.
Gavin drops his hands and listens and— ]
What the fuck? [ It's meant to sound sarcastic but it comes out a little more hysterical. ] Werewolf?! You are fucking crazy, Hank, that—
[ He's about to go on a tirade but it stops as abruptly as it starts. Gavin sort of crumples and looks down at his stomach that he knows was riddled with fatal wounds not too long ago. He looks at his hands. ]
I-I didn't... want to die.
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How long have we known each other? Have I ever been the type to mess around about this? I wouldn't joke about this shit, Reed.
[ The healed wounds really speak for themselves, Hank knows he doesn't have to push too hard in that department. If Gavin remembers getting shot, he should know what should have happened. ]
That's right. You didn't. I wasn't about to explain all the fucking technicalities while you were dying, so here we are. Ask away.
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Fuck. Fuck.
He takes a shaky breath and looks back up at him, putting his hands down on his lap. Gavin chews on his lip for a moment, noting how quickly the chewed up flesh in his mouth healed over. ]
So... what? You my master or whatever now? Am I your little errand bitch? What's the arrangement here?
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Woah, hey, that ain't how I do things. You think I saved your life so you could be some kinda servant to me? Please.
[ Hank raises his hands placatingly, shaking his head. ]
Look, I'm not going around to start my own pack or whatever the fuck. And to be completely fucking honest, I've never turned anybody, so I dunno what comes next, as far as you and me are concerned. I promised... some people I wouldn't. But I wasn't gonna let you die for saving my dumb ass.
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Y'mean there isn't a DPD werewolf squad?
[ The quip is to hide the... interesting little feeling that flutters in his gut at that answer. Jesus, Hank, don't start making him think he's special or anything. Saving his life when he's been nothing but an asshole to you for years? Fuck.
Fuck, why is Hank such a goddamn good person? It really makes him want to do better. He swallows thickly. ]
I... thanks. [ He mutters it. Then let's just move on past that real quick: ] So, what? We get toothy and fuzzy on the full moon?
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[ Hank snorts at the image. Yeah, you know dog whistles? Those suck. But don't worry, you're definitely not special, Reed!! Hank's just personally indebted to you and now you're stuck with him for the foreseeable (very long) future. ]
Pretty much. I stock up on raw meat and stay down here till it blows over. [ Hank shrugs. There's more to it, but that can wait. ] But from now on, things're gonna be louder, you're gonna smell everything until you get used to it and figure out how to block shit out, that kinda thing.
[ Good luck getting your cats to play nice now, Gav.... ]
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He sighs and rubs at his temple a moment. ]
Sounds like a party... wait! That's the reason you take a day off once a month? Oh for fuck's sake—
[ He just sighs as the feeling comes and goes. For all the boundless energy he now possesses, he feels fuckin' exhausted. The complete change in existence and life will do that to a guy.
So he sighs and looks back down, picking at his destroyed shirt. ]
Yeah, smelling my old blood is driving me nuts. I'm gonna put a pause on this journey of self discovery until I can get cleaned up.
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[ Hank just shrugs. It's obvious now why he usually takes the day off -- Gavin will definitely need it on his first time, that's for sure, and Hank will need it so he can guide him. ]
I got a shower upstairs you can use. Sumo's smelled worse, he won't mind.
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[ Yeah it's certainly... yeah. It's almost like there's a new set of thoughts in the back of his mind, his subconscious, giving him information and... suggestions. Like a growling, wolfy angel and devil on his shoulder. The longer he's settling into this, the more aware of it he becomes.
He picks at the dried blood and looks back up at Hank. ]
So you're not just gonna spray me with the hose? [ Quipping is definitely a defense mechanism. ] Yeah, uh, that'd be great.
[ He gets up, head rushing a little. He rubs at his temples again. ]
Fuck it's like learning to walk all over again—
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Yeah, I thought about it but then I'd have two wet mutts in my house. And I get enough shit from Sumo, I don't need you dragging mud in the house, too.
[ Hank's there despite everything, standing up as Gavin does and making it clear that he can lean on him if he needs to. The fact is Gavin almost died. He did die, technically. Hank knows the less they talk about it, the better. ]
I got food upstairs too. Doubt you wanna eat any of the shit that's down here right now.
[ Raw meat is great and all, but it's kind of jumping off the deep end here... ]
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He rolls his eyes, about to snark something else before— Wait— He looks at him, brows raising. ] Wait... can you talk to dogs? Is that what you're saying?
[ Because if Gavin can talk to dogs he wants a refund because he's a cat person, goddammit.
At the mention of food he realizes his stomach is still churning and the thought is entirely unpleasant at the moment. He grits his teeth a little. ]
Maybe. Let me shower first and I'll think about it.
[ With that, he starts to hobble over to the stairs. ]
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Kinda. I mean, they listen to me. I can, uh... kinda tell how they feel? Got a lot better at understanding their body language. But it's not like Sumo's gonna bark the words to Old McDonald or anything.
[ Hank smirks, still giving Gavin sass for all that he's going to help him up the stairs. See, he can be a good guy sometimes. ]
Not for nothing, Reed, but after recovering from that much shit -- if you don't eat you're gonna wanna claw your skin off in a couple hours.
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I fuckin' hope not. [ Ugh, god, the wood creaking in the stairs is awful. ] Yeah, yeah... I'll eat something. Just gimme a bit.
[ He thinks there might be one last bullet in his gut causing trouble. Maybe it was the one that really would have killed him... did kill him?
Fuck. Quick, move on— ]
You got clothes I can borrow?
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You got time.
[ Hank helps him up the stairs, leading him to the back door. Sumo's so excited to hear Hank is home, he's definitely whining behind the door. ]
Sure, right. [ He gives Gavin a look, taking in the-- yeah, there's blood everywhere, those clothes have got to go. ] I got some old shirts that might fit you. And pants... hope you like sweats.
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He grunts when they're inside, giving said dog a little look. Hey, yeah, we're cousins now or some shit Sumo. Whoop-dee-doo. ]
S'fine. [ Fuck it. He shrugs out of his jacket, which is mostly intact, but then just peels off his tattered shirt right then and there. His torso is still caked in dried blood. ] Not gonna be picky.
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Hank snorts. ]
That's fucking incredible, coming from you.
[ Of course for all the shit he gives him, Hank still shows him the way to the bathroom. Sumo is trailing behind them all the way, sniffing at Gavin and just being really happy because Hank is home and he brought a friend and he's been so lonely all day. ]
Yeah, yeah, I'll deal with you in a second, Sumo.
[ Hank pats him on the head, smiling before he turns right back to give Gavin shit. ]
Try not to get any blood on my towels, alright?
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...and why is Sumo really fucking cute to him all of a sudden? Jesus Christ, what is happening to him?! He meanders to the bathroom and huffs. ]
I won't wreck your bathroom, don't worry. [ He pauses a moment, working his jaw back and forth. It doesn't click like it used to. ] But... thanks.
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