Fic: tearing my seams - Part Four

[freakykat]

Title: tearing my seams
Author(s): freakykat
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Jake Silbermann/Van Hansis

Summary: It's getting dark, darling. Too dark to see.






part four





Jake looks between Billy and Drake, attempting to understand what the hell they‘re talking about. “You're leaving for...the night?”

Drake nods quickly, not looking directly at him and Billy shrugs, grinning like this is the best present ever.

“Why?”

He's sure he knows the answer but he wants to hear it for himself.

“Well, Billy wants to – do things and it might be really late when we get back so --”

“You and Van need to sort some shit out without us in the way. Maybe actually talk – no, actually just get it over with Jake. Tell him.”

Jake glares at Drake. He shrugs, grabs his overnight case as he follows Billy. Stopping at the door, he turns back to Jake, smiles softly. “Give him the choice, Jake.”

He's gone before Jake can respond. He rubs his face with both hands, rolls his shoulders to ease the tension that's collecting in the back of his neck. Walking to the windows, his eyes scan the street below, cars passing by silently, people going about their days like the world isn't this scary place to live in. There's danger everywhere he turns and he can't be selfish enough to ask Van to take risks with his own life.

It doesn't matter what anyone else says, whether Van is his mate and this is meant to be like Drake insists on telling him every day... There are people who want to hurt Jake. They'll use Van to do that. How could he choose the path that would put him right in the middle of it?

Something tickles the back of his head and he leans his head slightly to the left, listens carefully. Van is walking down the hall. He's startled at knowing that and he blinks at the door when Van enters, bags of groceries in his hands. He notices Jake, his smile wide and happy.

“Hey. I brought some sustenance, man. I think we've had enough takeout to last us a while.” Something must cross his face because Van sets the bags on the coffee table, joins him near the windows, mouth pulled into a frown. “Jake? You okay?”

He can see the thought run across Van's mind: he wants to touch him.

Jake stutters out a breath. Van hasn't touched him in too long and he aches, aches for it so deeply that his hands tremble when he reaches out, grips Van's shirt to bring him closer. He watches his eyes widen before they darken and Van licks his lips, takes a breath. Jake can see him weigh the decision but he's still taken aback when Van pushes in, hand curling around the back of Jake's neck, the other splaying across his back to hold him steady, make sure he can't run.

Jake stops thinking and leans down, lips parting, sighing when their mouths align, Van's taste on his tongue. Shivers of recognition, want and need converging, waves of heat smother him.

He forgets to be scared and just takes.





Drake taps his feet against the floor, glowering as Billy runs from one room to the next, gathering discarded clothes and papers, stuffing them in his knapsack.

“Ten minutes, Billy. That's what you said.”

“Oh my god, dude. Would you relax this once? If I take fifteen I don't think it'll hurt anyone.”

Drake rolls his eyes. “What are you looking for, anyway?”

“My cell phone.”

“You don't carry it around?” There's real fear in his voice and Billy glances over, pausing to frown.

“I left it here when this all started. And we've been kind of busy. Plus you were all 'Do not go home, Billy, or I will have my boyfriend eat you.' or whatever.”

“I never said that!” Drake gaps at him, insulted.

“Didn't have to, man. It was implied. Anyway, I couldn't come here so I've been using Van's mostly. And it – aha. Got it.” He pulls the phone from between the couch cushions. Last time he'd been home had been three weeks and he'd only meant to grab his clothes but he'd been tired and freaked out. The phone must have fallen out when he'd laid down for a nap.

“Okay, we can --” He cuts off and stares at the multiple calls from one number.

Drake takes a step closer. “What?”

He scrolls through the calls, notes the numerous voicemails and swallows down his panic, looking up at Drake. “I think something bad happened.”





Van can't think, not with Jake's hands roaming under his shirt, hot on his skin. All he wants is to stay there. He clutches at Jake's shoulders, tries to push closer, a need to crawl inside, to have every bit he can consumes him. This heat spreads through his limbs, makes his fingers slip on skin and muscle. Desperation tinges it but he can't stop it.

Jake seems to have different ideas about that because Van feels the press of hands on his waist, pushing gently. He shakes his head, makes a protesting noise in the back of his throat.

No.

He's not stopping.

He nips at Jake's mouth, licks his way in, catching the groan that escapes on his tongue. His mind is fuzzy, runs with this despite his fears.

Somehow Jake manages to pull away enough and Van has to open his eyes to see what his next move is going to be. He meets startled blue and it makes him pause. Maybe Jake didn't want this and Van couldn't force him.

He steps a foot away, hands sliding down Jake's arms. “I'm – I'm sorry. I just – wanted to—”

Jake kisses him, soft and lingering, making Van's knees wobble a little. Seriously. He didn't think that actually happened to people. His heart beats fast against his chest and his breathing is labored. When he pulls back, Jake's gaze is soft but the heat behind it burns Van wherever it touches him.

“I can't – Do you understand what this is?” One of Jake's hands thread through his hair, grips at the strands, holds him firm. “We're – you're supposed to be my mate.”

Van nods.

He gets that.

Jake locks their gazes, leans forward slowly, lips brushing soft on Van's mouth. He opens for him automatically, moans when all he receives is whispered words against his cheek. “This is supposed to be forever. Like always. When we do this --” and Van wants to smirk up at him because he's so fucking sure of everything, his Jake – “you belong to me. Period.”

There's so much more than that. Van's aware of everything that comes along with this, the connection that forges when this happens.

And he wants it more than anything else ever.

He nods, blinking slowly, breathes out his words against Jake's mouth. “One question: you're mine, too, right?”

One corner of Jake's mouth curves up into a smile. “Always have been.”

That's all he needs.





It's a blur of skin and clothes, limbs tangling, stumbling across the room until he's laying across his bed, Jake looming over him, arms caging Van in. His eyes trace the line of muscle visible, licks across the skin to taste it. There's a deep-set satisfaction at the groans that escape Jake. His hands can't seem to stop touching, sliding in every direction. Breath catching, he presses his face into Jake's neck, feels the trembling response and lets go.

All the things that held him back fall away and he grips onto Jake's neck, pulls at him until their bodies are flush against each other. It's almost like a floodgate opens inside him. Everything burns everywhere, makes it hard to breathe and he presses bruising kisses on Jake's mouth, swallows down all the noises that are coming.

Jake's fingers dig into the skin of his thighs, hold unsteady before he eases up. Van starts to protest, eyes half-lidded but when he looks up, Jake shakes his head. He knows there's a reason he can't think of through the haze of want and more and yes running rampant in his head. In the next second, it doesn't matter because Jake's mouth surrounds his cock, licks the slit and all Van can do is grip the sheets, arching his back to keep from flying apart.

They should talk. He knows they should. Because he has things to say, words he's been too scared to say to Jake until now.

His mind is filled with just this – Jake and the way his hands hold him down to the bed, mouth working him over until he's a mass of quivering skin, breath gasping out Jake's name between groans that cut deep at them both.

It's like everything is magnified a thousand times, his heart beating too fast, his skin electrified with Jake's touch. They're supposed to be closer. He scrambles at Jake's shoulders, pulls and pulls and pulls until he can see his face, shadowed but it's his eyes that make Van pause, lit up with some inner fire, and he crashes their mouth together, teeth clanking, the metallic taste of blood, mutters softly until Jake pushes back to look down at him.

His hand caresses Van's face. “I don't want to hurt you, baby.” It's said ragged and quick, makes the needs sharpen even more and he leans up, gentle kisses over jaw and lips.

“You won't. Please.”

That seems to be all Jake can take. One hand slips behind Van's head, grips tight as the other breaches his opening, fingers circling cold and wet. Van wonders briefly when Jake had found the lube, how he hadn't noticed but there's a finger working inside him and his mind whites out. It's all feelings and scents and fire and Jake. Wave after wave of it rushes at him, makes him hold tight, throw his head back and ride it out.

His legs kick at Jake's waist to make him go faster. He wants more. There's a brief pause where Jake pulls away, mutters something he can’t make out and it's too cold. He makes a noise that's more whine than anything else but then it's warmth again and he opens his eyes, watches Jake's face, focus and hunger warring there. Van feels the blunt press of Jake's cock and the stretchy sweet burn when he pushes in, hissing at the contact and stilling, meeting Van's gaze before sliding in and in and in.

“Fuck.” Van inhales harshly, makes himself relax as Jake rocks his hips until he bottoms out and they both shudder because Jake doesn't wait before pulling out and pressing back in, slow and steady. He can hear Jake's heart beating, matching his own rhythm. Feels his thoughts scattered and shivering in his mind. Tastes him across his mouth and tongue.

Van rolls his hips, hears the catch in the back of Jake's throat and does it again. The sensations are too much and he loses all sense of time. Moments pass by almost like he's watching snapshots of them, framed for him to capture. He meets Jake's thrusts, bodies fusing, skin sliding against skin. Van wraps around Jake, sucks in as much air as he can manage, gripping the back of Jake's head, fingers threading through damp curls, and holds on.

Sweat gathers in the hollow between his collarbones and Jake ducks down to taste it, pants as he gets an arm under Van's leg, folding his knee up against his chest. “You're mine.” Vane lifts up to meet the next thrust and chokes on his “Yes” when Jake snaps in hard.

He wants to say so much more but Jake understands, gets him like he always has and there's nothing more they need. Jake presses his wet, open mouth against Van's throat, one hand fumbling between them to grip Van's cock, jerking in a stuttered rhythm, leaning heavily on one elbow as he fucks him fast and hard and deep.

Van's thoughts scatter, break apart as he grips hands on the sheets, Jake's name a mantra and it burns burns burns, pulls at him, shatters him, the world whiting out as he comes. He feels Jake fall right after, the waves suffocating until he's gulping air, holding on when they let go together.





He can't tell how long they've laid here, limbs tangled, breathing slowly. His skin is cool, sticky and when he moves Van makes a protesting sort of noise. Arms tighten around him, keep him in place.

“I'm not going anywhere, baby, but can you move over so I'm not killing you here.”

Van slides over an inch, mumbles “I like you there” into Jake's shoulder even as he does.

That makes Jake laugh, the sound rough and low to his own ears. “Good to know.”

Van turns, face nuzzles into Jake's neck, sighs deeply, wraps arms and legs around him. “Don't run away, please.”

Jake pulls him in closer, kisses the top of his head. “I can't. Not even if I wanted to. Which, you know, don't.” Van's breath falls moist and hot across his skin, body relaxing in increments until he's pliant against Jake.

He runs a hand over Van's damp hair, curls it around his neck, listens to their heartbeat until it lulls him to sleep.

They can talk later.





Someone shakes him awake.

Van frowns, buries his face deeper into Jake's neck and squeezes his eyes closed. They just found this finally and he's not ready to step out of the peace it's bringing him. He knows that once he lets go of it, allows his mind to wake up, everything will change. He can feel it already. Jake is a part of him in a way he loves and fears at the same time. The constant tugging, even now when he's only half-way conscious, in his mind feels out of place.

“Van.”

The voice penetrates the fuzziness in his head, forces him to open his eyes and he meets Drake's worried gaze. His eye widen, gaze falling to the bed and he shifts closer to Jake, tugs the blankets higher. Drake makes an apologetic face, tips his chin toward Jake and steps away, leaves Van to the task. Jake's back presses into Van's chest, one hand tangled with Van's rests on his waist. Van sighs, kisses his neck slowly. “Jake.”

There's tension in the line of his back as he wakes up, digs his face further into his pillow and Van shakes him gently. “Baby. Come on, wake up. Drake is here.”

That seems to work and Jake eyes are open, focused in a way that shouldn't be possible for someone who'd been asleep two seconds ago. He turns to lie on his back, leans up on an elbow, rubs at his face with his free hand. The alert gaze finds Van and the smile he receives makes his heart beat a little faster, sends a wave of relief through him.

But then it's gone, set on someone else and Van ignores the sudden jolt of possessiveness that shocks him. He concentrates on Drake instead.

Jake raises an eyebrow.

“What's wrong?”

“You know that police officer? The one that helped Billy out when you were missing?”

Van sits up straighter, fingers curling into fists, throat closing up with fear. He's pretty sure he knows what Drake is about to say.

Jake frowns, flits a glance at Van then nods slightly and Van blinks at him. This whole new aspect of their relationship is going to take some time to get used to. One of Jake's hands slips into his, thumb stroking gently and he turns his attention back to Drake.

“I remember, yeah. What happened?”

Van watches the fear flicker across Drake's face and it makes his stomach drop because Drake never looks like that.

“He's missing.”





Hank strains against the ropes binding his hands and feet, flexes his wrist in an attempt to free his hands. They're looser than when he was first brought into the dark, damp room. If he can figure out a way out of this – place – he'll need to find and warn Jake. He closes his eyes, the throbbing in his ribs taking his breath away. Some of them are broken. The beatings weren't as bad now as they had been the first night they had him. Numbness has taken over, which he's grateful for. The less he feels, the clearer his mind is.

His mind wanders to his kids and what will happens to them if he doesn't make it out. If they never find his body, have any real closure as to what happens. Like all those families he's comforted over the years, the ones who he couldn't help. The files piled high in his bottom drawer, reminders of his failure. He knows almost every single one of those names and has spent his whole career trying to give them justice.

He rolls onto his shoulder, hisses when pain ricochets down his arm, blinks back tears, bites on his lip to keep from making any sound. He knows they can hear him. The longer he can pretend to be unconscious the better for him so he moves slowly, works at the ropes until his chaffed skin breaks, bleeds.

A wave of dizziness hits him and he stops, rests his head on the stone floor and breathes deep. There's dried blood caked to his face from the wound they inflicted the last interrogation. The claw marks across his back sting as he struggles to sit up. His eyes close, weakness taking over and he slumps against the wall.

He thinks of Lucy, wonders if he'll see her when this over.

It makes it easier to deal with if that's his ending.

He hears the footsteps approach, keeps his eyes on the door as the lock clangs open, the shadow stepping through. The figure looms over him, well-tailored suit hanging perfectly, face impassive, lips curled up. “Hank. Hank. What are we going to do with you?”

James Preston.

He was always a scary son-of-a-bitch.

Hank shuts out the words that follow, floats away when that first slash of pain hits him. His mind blocks it all out, keeps safe the knowledge they need, builds a brick wall around it.

He won't be the one to give them Jake.

Not if he can help it.





Jake takes the coffee Van hands him, leans into his touch when he brushes his fingers through Jake's hair. He sits with him, listens to Drake as he explains what they know.

“He's been missing for three days. Didn't show up for his shift, which worried his captain. They found a mess at his house apparently. They've got a search going.”

“What did Gabe say?” Van asks, taking the cup from Jake, sipping and swallowing deeply before handing it back. They barely had time to get dressed before Billy showed up, freaked and so completely upset that he can't seem to sit still. Jake grabs at him when he attempts to get up for the hundredth time, yanks firmly until he sits still.

“That he's probably dead.”

“Well that's optimistic of him.” Jake snorts into his cup, rolling his eyes. He's grateful that Drake and Gabe found him when they did. He's aware what danger this is but he can't give up hope like that.

“Worst case scenario always. That's my husband for you.”

Jake nods in agreement, wraps an arm around Van, settling his gaze on Drake. Billy is vibrating next to him with pent up anger that Jake understands. He blames himself for involving Officer Davis.

“What’s the plan?”

Drake points at Jake, making an apologetic face at Van as he does before locking his stare to Jake's. “You're coming with me.”

Van tenses at his side, eyes narrowing. “No, he isn't.” He's shaking his head and Jake sets his coffee aside, hands coming up to Van's face, makes him turn his glare toward him.

“Hey. Look at me. It'll be fine. I promise.”

“You could get hurt. He's after you. That's what they ke--” Jake cuts him off with his mouth, kisses him, long and lingering, until he hears Van sigh. His hands rest on Jake's neck when they pull apart. “I can't lose you, Jake.”

He knows how Van feels, even if they haven't had the chance to say the words and this makes him smile despite everything. “Can't live without me, huh?”

Van rolls his eyes, leans his head against Jake's chin. “Don't flatter yourself, Jacob. I just don't want to break in a new soulmate.”

Jake rumbles out a laugh, eyes the way Drake is fidgeting in the far corner, grips Van's hands together and nudges his nose on the side of Van's face. “Listen to me. I'll be fine. Seriously. You have to trust that.”

“I do.”

“Good.” He pulls back, drops a quick kiss on Van's mouth, fingers threading through his hair. “Drake and I will be back as soon as we find Officer Davis.”

Van raises an eyebrow. “Oh, I'm coming with you.” His hands flex on Van's arms, sees that face set with determination. Van glares at Drake when he starts shaking his head.

“It's too dangerous.”

Van snorts. “I don't give a fuck. I'm not letting him go alone.”

“He's not going to be alone. I'll be there. Gabe will be there.”

“So will I. And Billy.”

Billy's been silent but he takes that moment to stand up, nodding his head fervently. “Hell yes I am.”

“No.” Drake snaps and it's so not like him that silence rings after his outburst. His breathing is harsh and he takes a minute to gather himself before continuing. “I get that you're both worried. I do. But this isn't just about Jake. Gabe is involved in this. Do you think I'm not ready to hunt this bastard down before the person I love gets hurt? That's a constant, never-ending feeling. Get used to it.” His gaze falls on Jake and Van, pausing on them before ending on Billy. “The last person that Officer Davis called was Billy. That means you're in danger. We don't want you anywhere near this.”

Billy starts to protest but Jake holds his hand up. “No. I'm not putting you at any more risk. This only happened because you're my friend. You're staying.” He turns his gaze to Van. “And I need you to stay with him.” He can see the struggle in Van's eyes. “He can't be alone.”

Van glances over at Billy then back at Jake, shoulders slumping a little and sighs, pressing his face into Jake's neck. “Please be careful. Please.”

Jake swallows down the emotion threatening to overtake him, kisses the side of Van's face. “I will be, baby.” Van's grip tightens and Jake hopes he can keep this promise.





He's irritable and more than a little bit irrational but he can't breathe right with Jake gone. How is he supposed to stay calm when Jake is getting right in the path of the bastard who’s trying to kill him? There's the other part of him that is afraid of what it means that they didn't even get a chance to talk about what happened.

It's not that he doubts that Jake loves him. That's the one thing he knows for sure in the insanity that's become his life in the last month. What he doesn't know is where they'll go from here. Jake is scared to death of something happening to him and Van is aware how difficult it will be to make this work.

“But you're going to try, right?” Billy gives him this look that would be heartbreaking to say the least. When this is all over and they can breathe like normal people, he's going to have to talk to him about his over-investment in his love life.

Van glares at him as he picks up the slice of pizza. “Of course I am. I'll keep trying until he accepts that I'm not going anywhere.”

Billy's grin is quick, bright enough to make him blink. He bites into the cheese and dough, ignores the elephant in the room they aren't talking about, turning the television on to the Star Wars marathon.

They're supposed to stay out of sight until it's done.

He made Jake that promise and he plans to keep it.

Until he can't.





The house looks different on the return trip, less dark and looming. Jake nods as he passes crowds of people scattered on the courtyard. The clan is bigger than he expected. He takes in his surroundings, senses on alert. It's too new. He can hear so much, tries to filter it out to focus on what he needs to listen to. The scents in the air are overpowering. Everything is sharp, a little on edge.

Drake pats his shoulder. “It'll get easier.” They move past people into the main room of the house and Jake follows Drake as he turns one corner then the next. They walk through a door and Gabe stops talking, looks up from the map spread out on his desk. His eyes light up the moment he sees Drake. He moves fast and Jake blinks when he's right next to him, gripping the back of Drake's neck, kissing him fully. Jake looks away to give them a moment.

When he glances back, Drake's face is flushed, smile soft and sweet. “I missed you, too, jerk.” Gabe rolls his eyes but Jake can read him well enough now to understand the upturned corner of his mouth mean he's pleased.

“Right on time. Larry is giving us the details.” He points to a huge man lurking in the shadows of the room. “He says Hank isn't talking.”

Jake breathes deep. “Is he – how hurt is he?”

Gabe meets his gaze. “Pretty badly.”

“Then we need to help him. Get him out of there. He's getting hurt because of me.” He's frantic, wants to put a stop to all this. “He wants me, right?”

Drake shakes his head. “He'll kill him no matter what.”

“So what? We're going to let this man who’s getting tortured because he won't betray me suffer while we what? Wait it out? I can't do that. I can't.”

“That's not – we're not going to do that.” Gabe shakes his head. “We have a plan.”





Billy eyes open as he sits up in bed, straining to listen for whatever sound had woken him up. His vision is bleary, the numbers on the clock barely visible to him. His heart hammers when there's another scrape from just outside the hallway.

Van, he tells himself. Van is up getting something to drink. Or maybe, like Billy, it's hard for him to sleep with the idea of having Jake so close to the thing that's trying to kill him.

The research he's done on Nathan Clouds shows that he's a monster in either form. As a human, he's ruined more lives than Billy can count. He's ruthless, cold and calculating. Part of Billy is sure that none of those qualities came with the wolf. He's not above killing anyone to get at what he wants. Gabe so much as said just that.

He stops thinking about it, exhales loudly, swinging his legs around, cold feet hitting the floor. He shivers a little, walks to the door and out into the hallway. He can make out a faint light coming from the front room. Van is up, not surprising, and probably wants to be alone. Which is why he's going to stay with him and not let him out of his sight.

He can't imagine what it would be like if the person he was in love with was off risking their life for him. That's essentially what Jake had chosen to do.

Determined to help Van not freak out, Billy strides into the front room, freezing in the entryway.

Van eyes are wide, more angry than scared which Billy thinks is bad thing in this situation. The guy holding the gun to his head is tall, dark-haired, built like a brick wall, cold glare falling on Billy. His smile is razor-sharp, ugly. His voice soothes in contrast when he speaks.

“Oh, good. This will make it easier.”

The effect is pretty fucking scary.

He tries to think of an escape. In the back of his mind, he realizes that this won't end well for them. If they get taken, they'll be bait to lure Jake in and finish him off. The click of the gun makes him focus. The guy had it cocked, ready to put a bullet in Van's head.

“You come quietly, my friend, and it'll be just fine.”

He doesn't have a choice. Billy gaze meets Van's, sees the same conclusion in his eyes and raises his hands up in surrender. There's a shadow to his left and then hands are grabbing hold of him, shoving until he lies face first on the floor, hands being tied. He doesn't struggle, keeps his gaze set on Van's face.

They need time for a plan.





Jake frowns, taps his fingers on the desk as the phone rings and rings and rings on the other end. Voicemail picks up once more. There's been this itch at the back of his mind all day. Like a press of thoughts hitting him constantly that eventually formed into the headache he's experiencing.

Something is wrong.

Drake walks toward him, wearing an expression he doesn't like at all. Jake presses the end button on his phone and meet him halfway. “What is it?”

He can see that Drake is paler than usual, his teeth worries his lower lip and when he meets Jake's eyes, there's a fear he hasn't ever seen from him before. The hair on the back of Jake's hair stands up. “Tell me.”

“Our inside guy just contacted Gabe.”

Jake waits for him to say it.

“They brought in two people. It's Van and Billy.”





Van follows Billy quietly as they're taken down and down flights of stairs. He doesn't remember anything much after being taken out of his apartment. Someone hit him in the back of the head and when he'd come to, they were on a plane, tied to their seats. Billy had remained unconscious until they'd landed.
The ride from the airport to the mansion at the top of what Van called a mountain had been uneventful. Billy was quiet except for one moment when he'd leaned across the seat, whispered, “That's where Jake was,” jerking his head to a spot where they passed. Van could see the broken railing. He didn't think about it too much, his heart tripping over itself at the thought of how close he came to losing Jake.

His mind churns with ways out of this. He can see Billy taking in the rooms they pass, noting points of escape probably the same way Van is. It takes what feels like hours to reach their destination and they're standing in front of a large door. One of the guards shoves at Van, pushes him into Billy's back and they stumble, falling into the door as it opens. They're corralled inside and then all they have is the sound of the door closing and darkness.

“Shit.”

“Fuck.”

That's about as succinct as they can get in this situation. Billy heads for the wall, pressing his hands against it, trying to figure out exactly where they are. Van closes his eyes and breathes in the damp and dank. They know they're in a basement, like a dungeon of sorts – and seriously when did he life become an actual movie. “What are you looking for, Billy?”

His friend stops moving, sighs heavily before turning and leaning his head on the wall. “I have no idea, man.”

“There's no way out except that door.”

Van jumps at the disembodied voice coming from the back of the – well, he'd call it a cell, really – meeting Billy's wide, scared eyes. “Um. Yeah, as if this whole thing wasn’t freaky enough.”

“Billy?”

“Oh, fuck me. It knows my name.”

Van inches further into the darkness. He doesn't know what he'll do with whatever he finds but they have to know what's going on. He starts making out what looks like a shape and when he gets close enough he realizes it's human...he thinks.

A man.

“Billy. Get over here.”

The tone of his voice is commanding and Billy is next to him without a second thought. They kneel next to the man and then Van hears Billy's gasp.

“Officer Davis.”

There's blood all over the man, bruises everywhere that Van can see and he sits with his hands tied behind his back. Hank's eyes are swollen shut, barely slits but he grins, one tooth missing, up at Billy. “It's good to see you, kid.”

Billy tries to smile in return but it doesn't quite take. “What did they do to you, Officer Davis?”

Van leans around, loosening the binds until he's got the older man's hands completely free.

“Under the circumstances, Bill, I think you can call me Hank.” He rubs his shredded wrists with his hands, clumsy and ineffective. “We need to get out of here.”

Van couldn't agree more. “Any ideas how?”

Hank looks at him as if notices his presence for the first time. “Not a clue. But I think the three of us can figure it out.”

He certainly hopes so because he will not be the bait that lures Jake to his death.





“You need to stop fidgeting, Jake, okay? Stealth is the key if we want to get out of this alive.” Gabe hisses in his ear and he stops shaking his leg impatiently. They stare up at the giant house from just outside the perimeter of the woods surrounding it. From the plans he'd seen, it's perfectly positioned for defense. Built on top of one of the largest hills (he still calls them mountains no matter what anyone else says) on this particular stretch, the front entrance is guarded mostly by how one can fall a few hundred feet off the precipice.

There are a few men marching around the back and they're waiting for the change of shift that Drake assures them happens every hour on the hour.

Someone signals them, hand up in the air pointing toward the house and Jake shifts on the balls of his feet, ready to pounce for the door. Gabe changes into his wolf form, the others following his example. Jake feels useless even though he knew this was the plan all along. He can't be trusted to transform yet, doesn't have the control over it that they need.

Gabe rushes out from behind the cover, teeth bared and bites down on one of the men coming from the house. Jake doesn't let himself think, runs through the sounds of bones cracking, growls and smell of blood to the door. He turns left than right then left again, passing dark hallways and rows of doors until he reaches the silver one, wrenches it open and all he can make out is stairs and darkness.

Van is down there somewhere and he's going to find him.





They hear the commotion as Hank is trying to talk Billy through picking the door open. It's an old lock, he says. Van's pretty sure that it doesn't matter.

The gunshots are rapid, so unexpected that they all freeze, stop breathing for several seconds. He grins over at Billy. “That's our guys.”

Billy nods, returning to work on the door, listening intently for the sound of the gears shifting like Hank told him. “We need to help them by getting the fuck out of this place.”

“Amen, brother.” Hanks agrees, holding his side with one hand. Van's gripping his waist to keep him upright.

When there's an audible click Van breathes out, his heart racing as Billy stands and cautiously opens the door. The noises above have gotten worse, yells and gun fire and screams of pain. Whatever is going on, it's not good. “We need to move. Now.”

He helps Hank through the door, searching for the stairs he knows they came down. If they don't find those, they're completely screwed.

“It's this way.” Billy says, leading the way through the dark hallways. They walk for longer than Van thinks they should but in the next instant he can see the beginning of the staircase.

Billy's frozen at the bottom, staring up, his hands clenched into fists. It's then Van makes out the sound of a lot of feet running down toward them. He looks around in a panic, feels Hank do the same at his side. There's another cell to his right. They can hide in there. “Billy,” he whispers harshly but it's too late.

Billy's walking backwards and Van sees the two large shadows descending toward them.

“Shit.”

Always eloquent.

“Van? Billy?”

His knees want to give out. “Jake?” Hank leans against the wall, pushes Van forward with the heel of his hand. The broken skin around his wrist is bleeding, raw and Van swears he can see bone when Hank waves it at him.

“Go.”

Van hesitates but Jake's voice holds more than a little fear and he needs to calm him first. “Jake, we're down here.”

The two wolves flank Jake, Drake right behind. Van knows without really having to see that one of them is Gabe. They meet halfway, Jake pulling him in tight as he drops the bag he's holding, touching his mouth to Van's neck. “I didn't know that was you.”

Van closes his eyes. He wasn't sure if it had worked or how he was supposed to do it but he must have gotten through anyhow. “You couldn't hear me?”

Jake sighs. “Not exactly. I sensed you.”

“Guys, we can talk about this later.” Van glances behind Jake, watches Gabe pull a shirt over his head. The other wolf remains alert, tail tucked up, sitting just to Drake's right. “Hell, we'll give you a fucking crash course on mating powers but right now, we gotta go.”

The words are barely out of his mouth before they're running back up the stairs. Jake grabs Van's hand as they ascend. He looks behind to make sure that Billy has Hank. They're limping along, dragging slightly but the wolf guards them, following silently at the end. Once the reach upstairs, Van skids to a halt. The foyer is like a battleground. Chairs and tables crushed underfoot of the dozen of men and wolves fighting it out.

“Just get them out here, Jake! We'll be right behind you.”

Van pulls Jake as he runs through the hall, around the corner and he smacks right into someone, losing his grip. There's a hand around his neck, choking off air and his feet flail trying to find solid ground. His eyes water but he can feel the heat coming off something huge, teeth bearing toward him.

He knows this is him, the one who's been after them. He tries to fight, kicks helplessly because he's no match for this monster. It has years of power behind it, strength, anger and plain hate to keep him going. He won't go down easily though, wriggles until he can bite down on fur and skin. It thrashes Van around and he makes out the roar that echoes around them.

Something hits them hard and he falls to floor, his vision blurs but he's sure what just happened.

Jake.





He doesn't think when he does it. All he sees is Van being held by up, angry red eyes watching Jake as the animal lunges for Van's neck. He's frozen for less than a second and then he's running at the beast, slamming his head into its torso. He hears the thud of Van hitting the floor but it's all adrenaline and rage. He claws at whatever is within his reach.

He's fading fast and panics. Jake needs to protect Van, has to and everything in his mind and body works for that.

He needs to make sure Van isn't harmed.





Van's head bangs against the floor, burst of pain pulsing through his skull. He gasps for breath, one hand reaching for throat. He feels hands drag him back and Drake voice is in his ear. “You're okay. We got you.”

He shakes his head, starts to move back toward Jake. He can't let him get hurt. His mind throbs with that thought. All he wants is to get to Jake. Drake grabs for his arms but Van shakes him away, crawls a few feet. He can see the blur of two animals, ferocious sounds, terrible and pained reverberate around him. He can't make out who’s winning, where the blood is coming from and his heart constricts.

Drake pins him down with a knee to his back. “Do not move, Van.”

He stops squirming and tries to see what's going on. There's a terrifying howl that suddenly sound like distant sirens, confusing him until he hears Billy say, “Are those – I think the police is coming.”

“Shit. Shit.” Drake never curses. Ever. He pulls Van up by the scruff of his neck. Everything seems to be slowing down, getting quieter. There's a fire blazing in some part of the house. Van can feel the heat, sees the smoke filling up the room. They need to leave. He pushes up on his feet, runs towards Billy.

“We have to get Jake and go.”

Billy's eyes are wide. “He's not – Gabe said he'd take care of it. There's a back exit. Help me with Hank, please.”

He's not leaving without Jake.

Drake calls out to them but Van shakes his head. “Not without Jake.”

Hank speaks up. “Leave me here with him. I should be here when the boys in blue bust in here.” Billy shakes his head but Hank gives him a stern look, pushing slightly at his hands. “Go, kid. We got this.”

He reaches over for Van and Billy hesitates, staring at them both. Van sighs, frantically makes shooing motions. “One of us has to be smart, Billy. Get out there. Help Drake do whatever. Come back for us if we don't show up.” His eyes fall back on the insanity in the hall. Gabe had joined the fray and Van can see him fighting hard to keep between Jake and the other one. Van doesn't even know its name. Doesn't really want, too.

There's a roar, pained and rage-filled, Gabe rolls out of the way, pushes Jake with his hinds and then he's pinning the other down, biting until it's only blood and skin and flesh that Van can see. He looks away, holds on to Hank whose face is pale but he keeps staring. His eyes widen even more and he's shaking Van's arm, pointing.

His eyes fall on Jake – on the wolf – and fear pierces his heart. He's moving toward them, eyes black, teeth bared and he doesn't know what to do.

“Jake.”

“He doesn't recognize you, kid. It's not him in control.” Hank says and Van wonders how he knows that but there's no time to ask. His eyes shift to the floor, searching until he finds what he needs. He dives for the gun, aims it toward Jake, closing his eyes.

Gabe's words about doing whatever was necessary ringing in his ears.

He knows the bullet won't kill Jake. It'll only slow him down but that's all he'd need.

His hand is shaking as he points it. “Jake, stop. Please, it's me.”

There's a definite falter to the wolf's steps, almost a pause and he clicks the safety off. “Don't do this. Listen to me, okay. It's me, Van. Come back.”

Something's happening and for a moment he thinks it'll be okay but then it passes and it – not Jake – it's coming towards him. He'll have to do this.

It only takes a moment for your life to change completely. All of this taught him that.

That fact he knew better than anyone.

So this...wasn't as unexpected as it should be.

Really.

The gun trembles in his hand. Van's heart beats so hard against his ribs he’s afraid it’ll burst through.

“Don't. Don't make me, please.”

It comes at him, claws and teeth aimed to kill.

Van closes his eyes. “I'm sorry.”

His finger twitches on the trigger and he tries to squeeze, tells himself it's the only choice he has..

“Va-Van.”

He opens his eyes and the gun drops from his hand. He can see the change, Jake's features returning, and he runs without thinking. He's writhing in pain, breathing hard, the bones re-aligning themselves, cracking and popping. Van holds Jake's head, combs his fingers through the fur and eventually over skin and sweaty hair. They need to go before anyone finds them.

Hank staggers over as Gabe limps their way. His face and arms are covered in blood, bruises and scratches across his naked skin.

Jake's eyes open, blue and clear. “You stayed.”

“Always.”





Hanks helps them get out the back way, refusing to go with them. They can hear the sound of tires on gravel and don't have time to argue.

“I can cover for you. They won't ask as many questions if they realize the guy had me here, being tortured.”

“And what exactly are you going to tell them?”

“You said he's not dead, right?”

Gabe makes a face, nods. Van can understand that. He wants the fucker gone.

“We fought it out. I subdued him. It's not impossible.”

Everyone else had fled and it might actually work.

“Go.”

Gabe hauls Jake up and together he and Van carry him out the back door, running as fast as they can toward the surrounding woods.

“What the hell took you so long?” Drake steps out of the shadows, gripping Gabe by the shoulder, burying his face in his neck. “Asshole.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

Van looks down at Jake, wiped out and half-dead at his side. “I don't mean to ruin your reunion but we need to get Jake out of here. Now.” He blinks when a sweatshirt and pants are handed to him. Drake shrugs.

“Always be prepared.”

“Yeah. We're like the fucking boy scouts.” Billy says, helping Van pull Jake's legs through the pants. “So, now what?”

“We take him back to recoup. Everything else we figure out later.”





Van rolls his shoulders, wincing at the audible crack he hears before sighing deep, leaning his head on the bed. He moves until his cheek is pressed against Jake's hand then lets his eyes fall shut.

“That's not a pillow, you know.”

He jerks his head up, catches the slight upturn to Jake's mouth and for the first time in almost a day, he breathes freely, that tight knot in his stomach loosening. “You're awake.” He can hear the tremor in his voice.

“And you're here instead of getting some rest.”

Van rolls his eyes, brings Jake's hand up so he can leave kisses across his knuckles. “I wasn't the one who nearly got killed last night.”

Jake swallows, grimaces a little then glances down at his chest. The deep claw marks are merely red bruises. “You gotta hand it to these supernatural powers of healing. They kick ass.”

Van cracks a smile, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, can we try not to test them too often? I don't think my heart can take it.”

Jake stares at him for a long moment then moves a few inches to his left, patting the mattress. “Come here.” He grabs for Van's arm, coaxing him onto the bed. Van stretches out next to Jake, wraps one hand around his waist, burying his face in Jake's neck. He takes a deep breath, mouth pressed against the hot skin under Jake's ear.

“I'm sorry I scared you, baby.”

Van shakes his head and Jake can feel the words all the way to his toes.

“It comes with the territory.”

Jake thinks carefully before saying, “Which you don't have to take on. Van, this is --”

“Stop.” Van shakes his head, lolls it to look up at Jake. “You didn't do anything to me.” He grabs for Jake's hand, fumbles their fingers together. “You recognized me, okay? You were able to take control back and stop yourself.”

“But what about the next time? This isn't the life you wanted, Van. You deserve better than --”

“You think about finishing that sentence, I'm gonna hurt you myself.” He brings Jake's mouth down to his, breathes in. “I love you. I'm staying. Get over it.” He licks his way inside, sighing when Jake's hands curve over his hips, stroking circles on his skin and he tugs until it's just the two of them, heat and tongues and teeth.

He closes his eyes and lets the rest of world, his fears and the nightmares that he knows will come fall away.





They have one huge fight that sends even Gabe running for cover but only seems to amuse Drake. It's the first and only time they argue about it.

“I need to be here to control this thing so I don't end up almost hurting you again. You have a life back in New York. Dropping all that to be here and babysit me is stupid.”

Van rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. “If you think anything back there is more important than learning how to help you deal with this and learning what I need to do to make our life – our life, Jake – work, then you're the one who's fucking stupid.”

Jake narrows his eyes.

Van snorts. “Yeah. That doesn't work on me. I'm staying.”

Van stays.





Three months later...



“Babe? Did you get that package from Drake?”

Jake glances up from the laptop, blinks his eyes rapidly to get rid of the spots appearing in his vision. The clock says six o'clock and he stretches his arms above his head, yawning as Van rounds the corner and stops to stare at him. He meets Van's heated stare. “Didn't open it yet.”

“You do that on purpose when I'm around to distract me. I know it.”

He grins over, shrugs innocently then laughs when Van strides toward him, hands fisting in Jake's hair, pulling his head back to seize their mouths together. He drops into his lap and Jake loses all coherent thought. Van being so close always does that to him. The kisses are urgent, full of heat and wet and tongue. He savors the taste as Van slows down, pulling gently at lips, lingers more and more until Jake feels his entire body melt.

His boyfriend is a ridiculously good kisser.

Van kisses the corner of his mouth, nuzzles their cheeks together, breathing into Jake's ear. “We need to go back next week. Gabe wants to go over the story again just in case. Plus I think he misses us.”

Jake makes a face but nods. “Okay.”

He doesn't want to think over the reason they're going. Hank warned them that it wouldn't be easy to get rid of that son-of-a-bitch as he calls him. James is going to come after Jake, no matter what. They have to be prepared for anything.

But for now, he has this life he loves. There's work to do with his new script, Van's new play opens in a couple of weeks and he can breathe. He knows how to control his animal, that he can make sure Van is safe and still gets to be with him.

For now, it's all he needs.

They'll worry about everything else later.

“Get your ass up and come help me in the kitchen. I'll burn it down if you don't.”

Jake snorts because he really kind of will. He slips his hand into Van's and lets himself be pulled up, wrapping an arm around Van's waist before he can move. “I love you,” he mumbles into Van's neck.

“Love you, too. But you're still cooking, baby.”

Jake's laughs is rough and deep.

This is all that matters.

And he'll do anything to protect it.


End.