Title: Dark of the Moon
Author: GW Katrina
Beta: Rebecca
Rating: PG-13 for cussing
Archive: Lists archives, anyone who wants it, my sites.
Disclaimer: *laughs* I only wish I could own these guys
Warning: AU!
Summary: Tommy Dawkins is having a bad reaction to a dog bite, and
only one person knows what it is.

Dark of the Moon


Growling, Tommy Dawkins slammed his locker shut. The tall boy leaned
his head against the door, resisting the urge to bang his forehead
against the metal.

It had been one shitty day.

First off, he'd gotten a lecture from his mother, who started
spouting off about not getting into fights with his fellow students.
She stubbornly ignored the fact that he wouldn't have to fight with
the losers if they would just listen to what he told them. Were
things like 'she's mine, touch her and die' really that hard to
comprehend?

Then, after he had finally escaped the nagging and gotten to school,
the fawning started. While that wasn't too bad, the cologne the guys
wore, and the perfume the girls seemed to bathe in was starting to
irritate him. Why the hell did people have to wear that stuff? It
just smelled bad. Too spicy, too strong. Just.... Just wrong.

He didn't know why, but ever since his camping trip, strange things
had been happening. First off had been the huge dog that had nipped
him. Now sounds were louder, smells stronger, and he could smell
everything, even when he didn't want to. Colors were brighter, and
he could feel every stitch in his clothing.

Once or twice, he noticed some really strange stuff.

Like his ears would look pointy at a certain angle. Or his teeth
would seem longer, sharper. And there was a strange desire to sink
them into something that still moved.

Little things. No biggie.

In a corner of his mind, Tommy could hear a little voice shouting
that he should be worried, but he was usually too pissed off about
something to pay attention to it.

Especially since it seemed to get quieter every day.

Most of the day hadn't been too bad. His attitude this year had not
encouraged people to displease him. Not after he had 'accidentally'
broken the arm of someone he had gotten in a fight with.

Of course, that fight was why he was here, denting his locker,
instead of with the few people he didn't feel the need to hurt.

The stupid principal had given him detention. Damn it, he was the
best quarterback this pissant little school ever had, and they were
giving him detention.

Snarling again, Tommy lashed out, this time leaving a dent in the
locker next to him. The loud 'bonk' noise it produced made him smile.

"You know, I'm all for destroying school property, but would you
mind not using my locker for target practice. I have a hard enough
time with it anyway, without it being broken."

Tommy jumped. Then, mad that someone had snuck up on him, he spun
around, growling.

In front of him stood another boy, about his age. He was dressed
mostly in black, though his shirt had a large silver cross on it. He
stared at Tommy, then ran a hand, wrapped in fingerless gloves,
through his black hair, which was spiked everywhere. Cool eyes
looked at him.

Tommy's skin tingled, and everything seemed to turn up a notch.
Before he realized what he was doing, Tommy had the Goth pinned
against the wall, holding the boy off the floor with a hand around
his throat.

Icy blue eyes locked with green, and the black haired boy only
looked at Tommy. There was an emptiness in his eyes that made
something ache in the football player.

Not liking the feeling at all, Tommy shook the smaller teen.

It didn't work quite the way he planned.

A cruel joy flickered in those eyes, and the pale teen
smirked. "They think you're on drugs, you know."

That caught Tommy's attention. "What?"

"They think you're on steroids or something." The boy smiled, a
small smile. Then his voice dropped, almost a whisper. "I know
better than that."

Before Tommy could react to that, a loud voice broke into the
conversation.

"May I ask just what you think you are doing to him, Mr. Dawkins?"

A low rumble rolled out of Tommy, and he heard a chocked 'gurk'
noise come from the boy he held. Muttering under his breath, he
dropped his captive, racking his mind for a reasonable excuse. He
didn't want another detention.

"He was helping me with a scene," said the dark haired boy. "For my
new play."

The principal didn't look like he was going to believe that. "Are
you sure about that, Mr. Dingle?"

Tommy watched as the kid he had just slammed against the wall smiled.

"But of course, sir. It's about a young man's journey as he
discovers his place in a post war civilization, fighting for what he
still believes is right. And there is an interesting sub-text
running through the whole play that focuses on...."

Holding up his hand, the principal blinked away his slightly glazed
look. "All right, Mr. Dingle. I believe you." He turned to look at
Tommy. "And you, Mr. Dawkins, I hope that the only time I see you
with your hands on another student is when you are 'rehearsing.'"
The wry tone told Tommy that he didn't buy a word of what was said.

"I think it's time you left the grounds, now."

With that, he headed back towards his office.

Watching him until the door shut, Tommy turned to look for 'Mr.
Dingle." The kid had impressed him.

Tommy quickly discovered that he was alone.

The other boy's scent lingered in the air, and Tommy took a deep
breath.

The scent was nice. He and Mr. Dingle would be meeting again.

***

Face lit by his computer screen, Merton looked far paler than
normal, almost ghostly. The only color to him was his hair, and even
that seemed washed out.

With a sigh, he leaned back. So, he'd been right.

Tommy Dawkins, star quarterback, and the most popular kid at school,
was a werewolf.

It certainly explained a few things.

Merton was used to being ignored by everyone except a few bullies.
Hell, he'd had a locker next to Tommy since he had come to this
stupid school, and the other teen didn't even recognize him. And
Merton was not an easy one to forget.

When the dreams had started, he had used that fact to his advantage.
He had seen little things, as the popular boy had gone from sweet to
mean. While he was still popular, more people had come to fear Tommy
Dawkins.

Somthings could be explained by drugs. The attitude change, the new
strength. Absently, Merton rubbed the bruises that were already dark
on his neck.

What wasn't explained by drugs, though, landed Tommy firmly into
Merton's realm of expertise. Like the ears that grew pointed once in
a while or the way Tommy's teeth would sharpen. Hell, when the
principal had shown up, the other teen's eyes had flashed gold for a
second.

Definitely not drugs.

Taking advantage of the distraction the principal had created by
lecturing Tommy, Merton had slipped away. He desperately wanted to
confront Tommy, but he could still feel the way Tommy's fingers had
tightened around his throat. It had happened at the same time
Tommy's eyes had flashed, so Merton was pretty sure it was an
accident.

Still, he didn't want to feel that helpless around Tommy again.

His research provided him with the answer.

***

Snorting, he shut the book. He didn't know how some people got
published. Especially when they wrote shitty dribble like the author
he held in his hands.

Before he could get any deeper into his mental rant, Merton heard
footsteps. Looking up, he saw the guy he'd been waiting for.

Tommy had stopped, head cocked to the side as he looked at Merton.
Ignoring his instincts to get the hell out of Tommy's view, Merton
instead stood and leaned against his locker.

"Figured you'd be here. Heard you got into another fight. Break
anything?"

Green eyes flickered, just for the briefest second, to gold, and then a
slow smile crossed Tommy's face. He nodded, and started forward
again. "Yah, I did. His nose."

Merton had heard it was one of the other football players Tommy had
gotten into a fight with, and he had to suppress a smile. He thought
that everyone on the damn team needed to have at least one bone
broken off the field. After all, they had broken enough of his.

Tommy reached his locker and took a minute to throw his backpack
into it. Shutting the door, he smiled at Merton.

Something in the smile made Merton nervous. Still, he knew about a
weakness Tommy wasn't even aware of. And he could use that to his
advantage.

He returned Tommy's smile with his own feral grin.

"Tommy, Tommy, Tommy. Don't think of it like that. Think of it as
how can we help each other?"

Just like a few days before, Merton found himself pinned against the
wall. This time, however, the hand was wrapped in his shirt, not
around his neck, and his feet were still on the floor. Merton gave a
mental wince as he saw a silk shirt fisted by.... Were Tommy's
fingers tipped by claws?

Well, fuck. Write off this shirt. And he really liked it, too.

"What could you possibly have that I would want?" snarled Tommy.

"Let me guess," Merton said, still calm. "Sometime, maybe right
before school started, you got bit by some big ass dog, right? Now
everything seems brighter, louder, and you can smell things that you
didn't even knew existed."

Tommy stared at him, and Merton thought he caught a glimpse of....
Of.... Something. It wasn't there long enough for him to identify it.

Then Merton found himself nose to nose, literally, with a very
pissed Tommy. He stiffened as he was lifted slightly, leaving him on
his tip toes and the lean body pressed him even harder against the
wall.

Strangely enough, that part didn't bother Merton too badly.

"How the hell do you know that? Did you do this to me?"

Merton couldn't help it. He laughed. That earned him a rather
impressive string of curse words and a snarl.

Meeting golden eyes, Merton went still. "If I could do this, Tommy,
I'd have done it a long time ago. And you wouldn't have been the
target." When clawed fingers wrapped loosely around his throat,
Merton told Tommy what he thought.

"You, Tommy Dawkins, are a werewolf."

***

After their run in, Tommy had done some research of his own.
Basically, he went home and started looking through yearbooks. To
his surprise, Merton J. Dingle had been the person next to him since
third grade. How he could have forgotten that hair, Tommy had no
idea.

Now he had the kid pinned against the wall. Again. And he still
smelled really, really good. Tommy had felt kind of sheepish when
Merton had mentioned smells, and he realized he was sniffing the
other boy.

Then all of that was knocked out of his mind when Merton stated that
he thought Tommy was a werewolf. There was a second of silence, as
Tommy looked at Merton is disbelieve.

"You," said Tommy, eyes boring into Merton's. "Are a nut job. A
complete freak. Werewolves aren't real."

The smell of blood sprung up, and Tommy realized that he was
squeezing Merton's neck again.

Then something flickered in Merton's eyes, and, quicker than Tommy
thought the Goth could move, he had his hand up and around the wrist
of the hand holding the pale throat.

Tommy screamed.

Jumping back, letting go of Merton as he did, Tommy clutched his
arm. As soon as Merton had touched him, it felt like someone had
slammed a red hot coal against his skin. Hitting the opposite wall,
Tommy looked at his hand. On the top of the wrist, there was a large
red spot, and a blister. It looked like someone really had burned
him.

Gold eyes shot up, and locked on Merton, who had a hand pressed
against his neck. Tommy could see a few dark streaks, and realized
that Merton was bleeding. The other boy's eyes were hard. "Silver,
jackass. You are a fucking werewolf, and silver burns you. Now, if
you want other info, come talk to me." A second later, and a card
landed in front of Tommy. "If you do decide to come, knock on the
basement door. I live down there."

Tommy watched as Merton turned and left. With his arm still curled
up against his body, he reached out with his good hand and picked up
the card.

"Damn little freak."

***

A week later, Tommy had almost totally forgotten about the little
incident. He didn't see Merton any more, other than a few times in
the halls, and the occasional scent, and he pushed what the Goth had
told him out of his mind. Tommy had never been on for jewelry
anyway, and he rarely came into contact with real silver, so it
wasn't that big a deal to him. He decided Merton must have put
something on the ring that made it burn. No big deal.

Now, though, Tommy was wondering. As bad as the last few weeks had
been, it was nothing like today. Everything was setting him off.
People, noises, smells.

Finally, he had just walked out of school. It was either that or
hurt someone. Again.

Finding a local park, he had stretched out on a hill, enjoying the
sounds of nature, as well as the feel of the sun on his face.

What was wrong with him?

It was a question Tommy had kept himself from asking, until now. He
knew that getting into fights wasn't like him. He had only been in a
few during the entire time until senior year, and most of those had
been with other players who had gotten mad about arrangements on the
team. Even then, he hadn't actually hurt anyone. Normally they were
shouting matches, and the occasional one that had gotten physical
ended quickly when the others jumped in.

This year, though, he had actually enjoyed getting into the fights.
Enjoyed the sensation of flesh giving under his knuckles, the
muffled 'crack' as something broke.

And the way he had been acting around people. He had always been
nice; he had overheard enough girls say that to know what they
thought. Now.... Well, now, people were not meeting his eyes
anymore. They looked everywhere but into his eyes, and he had the
feeling that some people were changing their routines just so they
wouldn't cross his path.

He knew he wasn't on drugs. But the only other suggestion on what
was going on came from that Merton kid, and he was just cracked.
Merton.

Tommy didn't know why, but he had recently started thinking about
the other boy. More than he ever had since the kid had started at
his school.

He thought about how it had felt to hold that pale throat, to push
that slim body against the wall. That had been fun. Merton might not
look like it, but there was something interesting below those loose
shirts he wore.

And he smelt really, really good.

Thinking about Merton, lying beneath a warm sun, and feeling more
relaxed than he had in a while, Tommy fell asleep.

***

Blue eyes studied the flame, watching as it danced on the top of the
black candle.

It had been hard to get this candle, but the spell specifically
required a candle made from the fat of a man murdered by a blade.
That had taken him weeks to get, and he had to pay quite a bit for
it. It was a good thing that his parents never actually looked at
the bill when they paid his credit card. Sometimes, it was good to
have parents that were gone a lot.

Settling himself into a comfortable position, Merton closed his
eyes. Reaching out, he mentally pulled together his strength. While
he might not be the strongest person physically, Merton had a hell
of a lot of power in other areas.

As he took a breath to start the spell, a loud banging broke his
concentration. Eyes shooting open, he growled. Rising, he walked
over to the candle first, blowing out the flame. Then he carefully
placed on the shelf that sat on the wall, and then headed towards
the door.

Opening it, he stopped, eyes wide, as he got his first look at his
visitor.

There stood Tommy Dawkins, fully wolfed out, covered in blood.

***

One minute, he had been looking at the clouds, sun bright. The next,
he was crouched over a dead animal, the smell of blood everywhere,
and the moon full in the sky.

Then he was running.

Somehow, he found himself at a door, and he slowly looked around.
The address looked familiar, and it dawned on him that he was at
Merton's place. He remembered what the Goth had told him, and slunk
around the house until he found the only door that Merton could have
been talking about. Padding down the steps, he hit the door, praying
that Merton was the only one down there.

Pausing, he listened as there was the sound of someone moving around
inside. He heard an indistinct voice, then the door had swung open.
There was Merton, a look of anger on his face. That look vanished
when he saw who was at his door.

Tommy almost whined as Merton stared at him, then he did yelp as a
hand yanked him into the room.

"It's after midnight, Tommy. Why the hell didn't you come earlier?"
growled Merton as he pushed the confused werewolf towards the
couch. "Sit down. I'll get you a towel."

Still covered in the stink of drying blood, Tommy could still smell
Merton. The other boy's scent was strong, and there was a strange
scent mixed in with it. Something that made Tommy think of
electricity. And the rest of the room was filled with unusual
smells; some which made Tommy feel more comfortable, others that
made him want to claw off his nose. One made him itch.

Glancing around as Merton ran water in what Tommy assumed was a
bathroom, he blinked. There were skulls and candles everywhere.
Mixed in among them were jars filled with things Tommy couldn't
identify. In one corner was the best entertainment center Tommy had
seen outside of Circuit City, and in another was a huge computer
setup. Absently, Tommy wondered how much Merton was worth.

Behind him was a huge bed, covered in dark sheets, and in the middle
of it sat a white snake. A big white snake. One that raised its head
and looked at Tommy. The pair both sat where they were, staring at
each other until Merton came out and handed Tommy a wet towel.

As he wiped his face off with it, Tommy stumbled out his story.
After he finished, Merton sighed.

"Next time, maybe you should listen to me when I tell you stuff.
Here." He handed Tommy a robe, which he took in his now clean
hands. "I want you to go in there and take a shower. That will get
the rest of the blood off, and I can wash your clothes so you don't
have to walk through town naked." Merton smirked. "I don't think
that's the image your dad wasn't projected."

Resisting the urge to snarl at him, or to push him until the other
boy realized who was in charge, Tommy merely did as he was told,
stripping down in the middle of the room, then walking towards the
bathroom. He paused, just for a second, as the sharp scent of lust
filled the air. This, he decided, continuing towards the promised
shower, was an interesting development.

Half an hour later, Tommy was leaning over Merton's shoulder as the
other boy pulled up page after page on the internet. "There is a
wealth of information that you could get on your own, Tommy," Merton
was telling him. "About ninety percent of what's on the internet is
false, though, and you have to be careful about the stuff that is
true." His eyes, which seemed silver in the light given off by the
computer, looked at Tommy's reflection in the screen. "Some of the
sites that have the most and the best info are run by hunters. They
are usually looking for a were to hunt, and I don't want to lead
them here."

Now Merton pushed back from the computer. For a second, Tommy stayed
where he was, and the two boys weren't more than an inch apart. The
smell of lust filled the air again, and Tommy could have purred.

Then Merton shuddered, just a little, and moved away. He waved at
the books that lined a wall. "Then you have the old fashion way of
research. Books. Lots of old, old books."

"Why are you doing this?"

That was what Tommy really wanted to know. He could see what he
would be getting out of this deal. Protection and someone who knew
what the hell this werewolf stuff meant. Someone who could help him
learn how to control these ideas that were running through his head.
But what would the class freak be getting out of it?

Merton looked thoughtful. He sat on the bed, motioning for Tommy to
take the couch. "I'm the freak, Tommy. The outcast. Not a bad place
to be, except for a few things." He looked at Tommy, eyes back to
being the pale blue they normally were. "I've assumed you've heard
of the group called TnT?"

Tommy nodded. Those two idiots were famous. Especially for pounding
on freshmen and stuffing them in lockers.

What morons.

"Well, I'm the only senior they target." Even though his voice was
steady, Tommy could hear the hate Merton's voice carried. "I'm tired
of it. And, as I don't want to go down as one of the nuts who snap
and mow down their classmates, I have a deal for you."

Tommy, who still hadn't taken a seat, ignored Merton's attempts to
get him to sit on the couch, and sat down next to him on the bed. He
had a good idea of where this was going.

"Let me guess," he said, leaning forward until the pair were once
again breathing the same air. The last time, Tommy had Merton pinned
to the wall, but, even now, the smaller boy wasn't leaning away. The
lust smell was an almost constant scent in the air, now. "You will
help me learn this, and I give you protection from the morons." He
eyed Merton. "That doesn't seem right. You've only got a year left,
and I'm sure you can avoid them fairly well. So what else do you
want?"

There was a feral smile on Merton's face. "I knew you weren't
stupid, Tommy. Stubborn, but not stupid. Most people wouldn't have
figured that out." He met Tommy's eyes. "I want to be one."

One what? Stupid he might not be, but Tommy knew that Merton was
ages past him when it came to smarts. Then he realized. His lips
also turned upwards, exposing his fangs. "So, you want to be a wolf,
hmm? How would I do that?"

Eyeing Tommy's fangs, Merton reached out and lightly ran his finger
along one, earning himself a shiver. Hmm. Fangs must be extremely
sensitive. He could see Tommy's eyes dilate when he ran his
fingertip along the white surface of the tooth. "It's all in the
bite, Tommy. You became one because of a bite, and you, in theory,
should be able to make others into weres as well with your own bite."

Grinning even harder, Tommy leaned closer to Merton. "So, you want
me to bite you?"

Merton shivered again. "Not right now. One out of control wolf is
all we need at a time. After we get you in control of your own
instincts and reactions, well...." Merton's smile was enough to send
a shiver running down Tommy's spine.

Pausing, Tommy thought over the deal. In exchange for the knowledge,
he'd protect Merton and, later on, get a.... A what? Pack? That
sounded right. Suddenly, the fact that Merton would be one of his
pack made every hair on Tommy's body stand on end in anticipation.

Ooh, he couldn't wait.

Looking at Merton, the werewolf smiled. "Deal. Let's seal it with a
kiss." Leaning forward, he pressed his lips against Merton's,
careful not to cut him with his fangs.

For a split second, Merton struggled, then relaxed. When Tommy
pushed the now unresisting boy down on the bed, a single thought ran
through his mind.

Life was good.

The End