Silver Bullets n' Roses - 8. Changes

Later that night, his ears still ringing from the last altercation with Larry, Matt crawled under his bed and pulled out a framed photograph. He slipped between the sheets of his bed and held the picture close to him.

The photo contained and image of himself - looking so young and smiley Matt didn't even recognize his own face - and a taller, slightly older boy with shaggy brown hair. Ted. They were embracing, with huge grins, eyes glittering at the camera, looking like the literal picture of happiness.

Even though he had long ago accepted that Ted was a part of his past and that he would most likely never see him again, Matt still liked to look at the picture and remember the good times. It was hard to imagine there was a time he was that innocent.

If he could go back in time, he'd tell his younger self to enjoy it while it lasted.

A strangely uneventful week passed. For a werewolf, anyway.

Matt felt like he was going through some sort of supernatural puberty. His powers would shut on and off occasionally, with him often being able to hear gossip across the school and smelling what was for lunch long before it was time. They were often purely related to his emotions. When he got excited his "marks" as Severin called them, would appear on his palms. When he got pissed off, sometimes he wanted to growl. That was kind of hard to hide at home, when Larry was on his back constantly.

The growling, which had freaked him out the first time he let one go, was now Matt's favorite part about being a werewolf.

Towards the end of that week, Matt experienced a pleasant, unexpected physical change. He woke up one morning with is back aching and his legs unsteady, and nearly had a heart attack when he realized the ceiling was a bit closer to him than before. Somehow, in the course of two days, Matt had shot up three inches. Just when he thought he'd die short.

To be fair, he still wasn't that tall - only about five-eight now, and Severin's six-one still made him look like dwarf - but it was a hell of an improvement.

In addition to the height, Matt was quickly beginning to recognize his own kind's non-physical characteristics. Their energy would reach out to him-their "aura"-and everyone's was different or higher or lower than others. Severin told him that werewolves often touched each other in some way before fighting, trying to judge their chances of winning. He even let Matt hold his hand for a moment to demonstrate.

Severin had made quite a status at the school. His charisma, good looks, and piercing werewolf eyes were powerful tools in any high school setting. If he had been one of the dickhead types of popular that Matt was used to, Matt would have hated him. Severin was the type of popular that talked to generally everyone, being with a different clique every time Matt saw him. Sometimes it was hard to see. Severin wasn't the jovial type; he had a snarky sense of humor and a biting personality that apparently a lot of people liked. After the first few days he was friendly with most of the guys and had all the girls lusting after him. Almost all, anyway. Karyn still seemed uncomfortable about him, and the feeling seemed to be mutual.

Despite his growing popularity, Matt thought Severin seemed detached when he was around the humans. When he talked to them, it almost sounded like something out of a script that only Matt could read, and the instant Severin was near him again he was real again. Severin still randomly checked on Matt throughout the day, talking interchangeably about normal stuff like teachers, girls, and homework, or werewolf stuff like Gabriel, Matt's upcoming first Change, and complaints about the other kids in his Pack. There seemed to be an invisible barrier, Matt noticed. Matt never talked about his personal life, and neither did Severin. Matt didn't even know the kid's real last name.

Larry and Beth went on some romantic getaway for the next few days. They didn't even tell Matt personally; he found out by reading a note tacked on the wall in Larry's barely legible script. The note basically said they'd be back by Thursday (it was Monday now) and that were was money for pizza in one of the kitchen drawers. Matt snorted as he read it. Larry's idea of romantic was eating "real" Italian made food in some sleazy shop out of town, followed by a few days at a sleazy motel.

They didn't go out often, and when they did, they never took Matt along. Usually the only reason they went anywhere was when Larry was making up for smacking Beth around. Besides, it wasn't like Matt would want to be anywhere with them, anyway. In fact, these next few days would be heaven...if he wasn't sick.

Yesterday morning he woke up with a clogged nose and a dull headache. Throughout the day it turned into watering eyes and a sore throat. Now today, he felt even worse. It was probably some kind of bug going around, but it sure as hell sucked to be sick when his father and stepmother were out of the house, for once.

Oh, well. It wasn't like he was throwing a party.

Snagging a box of tissues on his way to his room, Matt climbed into bed. He curled up on his pillow and drifted off to sleep.

Matt's dreams were confused and feverish. As soon as his eyes closed he was bombarded with images of Gabriel, ranging from violent to sexual. Sometimes he was drooling over Matt's shredded shoulder, and in other scenes he was making out with him. Suddenly, the mood changed and his heart was pounding as he raced through trees, their branches slapping against his back, his paws thudding mutely against the forest floor as the scent of blood filled his nose. All that was in his mind was a primal need to feed, to kill...

Matt awoke with a gasp at the sound of the phone ringing next to his bed, on the nightstand. He rolled over and held his head for a moment, no longer protected by sleep. His body was burning up with fever and he was lying in a pool of sweat and drool, and his head felt like it was going to explode. Taking a deep breath, he fumbled for the phone with shaking hands.

"Hello?" Even to his own ears, his voice sounded horrible.

"Hi, Matt!" said Karyn cheerily from the other end.

He'd given her his home number a few days ago. Sometimes she'd call and Larry would see her name on the caller ID and act almost cheery, thinking Matt had magically turned himself fully to girls.

"What's up, Kare?" he said, trying to sound normal, even though he wanted to hang up and die.

"You sound really bad." God, it was impossible to slip anything past this girl.

"I know. I feel really bad, too. What did you call for?"

"I wanted to know if you'd like to go to the movies..."

"Sorry, Karyn, I can't even get out of bed right now."

"I understand. I hope you feel better. 'Bye, Matt!"

Matt heard the click of her hanging up, and let the phone fall to his side. Lying on his back to avoid getting snot everywhere, he tried to go back to sleep.

As if God were punishing him, the doorbell rang. Matt tried to sit up and was welcomed with a wave of protest from his head. Fuck it, he thought, letting it fall back to the pillow. It was probably one of his dad's friends or something.

"Matt! It's me, Sev."

Severin barely raised his voice, knowing Matt would be able to hear him.

Crap, it could be something important. Severin didn't often just drop by. With a sigh, Matt forced himself off the mattress. His legs became unstable as soon as his feet touched the floor, and he had to sit on his knees and rest for a moment before getting back up.

It was like being stuck in a funhouse. The door to his room waved back in forth as he approached it, and he had to lean heavily against the walls to fight the vertigo. Briefly Matt wondered if this was more than just the flu.

Severin waited patiently at the other end, not bothering to ring again. Matt finally reached the door and wrenched it open.

Severin stood there, holding a Pre-calculus book and looking slightly...bashful? Matt doubted Severin had been shy a day in his life, but here it was, displayed right before him. It looked so cute Matt almost forgot how sick he was. Almost.

"Hey, I was on the way home and I remembered that you were like a second Einstein when it comes to math and I was wondering if you could...holy shit, Matt." He broke off as he looked at Matt for the first time, who was swaying slightly were he stood.

At that moment, the world seemed to shake beneath his feet and Matt dropped to his hands and knees a second time. He'd never felt this sick before in his life.

Severin went down to his knees as well. Carefully, he reached for Matt's head and craned it upward, brushing sweaty strands of hair off his face. His skin was practically scalding to the touch. "Matt, can you hear me?"

Hell yeah, I can hear you. It sounded like Severin was speaking through a megaphone to Matt's sensitive ears at the moment. "Vaguely," he answered.

"What's going on?"

"I'unno." Suddenly talking became hard for him. It felt like his tongue was too big for his mouth. Clearing his throat, he added, "I'm sick."

Severin's next words chilled him to the bone. "Werewolves don't get sick."

Matt felt weaker. He was fighting just to keep his head up now.

"Matt, I think you're Changing. This is exciting."

"Whoop-de-fucking-do," Matt said bitingly.

"Come on. You need room." The pressure of Severin's hands vacated his face for a moment, and Matt heard a scraping sound as the ugly living room couch was being shoved across the room.

Severin returned, and Matt felt his arm wrap around his waist. He attempted to stand a bit to help, but Severin dragged him carefully toward the middle of the room. Matt immediately curled into a ball, trying to get control of his shaking limbs.

"You need to strip," Severin said from somewhere above.

"Huh?"

"When the Change comes, you don't want to rip your clothes, do you?"

Matt sighed heavily. Great. He'd have to be seen naked. Again.

"I'll let you keep the underwear, okay? Then you can keep your dignity."

Matt didn't answer. Talking was too much work.

Severin tugged off Matt's shirt, balling it up and tossing it into a corner. Next were the jeans. Thankfully they were one of Matt's looser pairs, so he had no trouble getting them off. The jeans joined the shirt, along with a pair of Converse and socks. Matt could feel the full body blush even through the raging fever.

"I'll go sit over there, if you want," Severin offered.

"No," Matt said too quickly. Swallowing hard to combat the about-to-vomit feeling, he continued, "I don't want to be alone in this."

"You're not." Severin slid his knees under Matt's head, cradling it in his lap. He rested his hand against Matt's forehead, testing the heat. The coolness of his skin was a welcome relief. "Just don't puke on me."

For a while, they sat in silence. Fighting for his voice, Matt coughed.

"Shh," Severin said soothingly. "Don't try to talk."

Ignoring him, Matt said, "It-it's going to hurt, isn't it?"

In the moment's silence it took for Severin to consider the question, Matt wished he could see his face. "Yes."

"How long?"

"It varies, Matt. It could come any minute, or it could take hours. And once it does come, you'll be phasing in and out of it before you complete it. Let's talk about something else, okay?"

"Okay."

Even so, nothing was said as Severin assessed Matt's near-naked, pale form on the floor before him. He was skinny, but it suited him. His torso was long in proportion to his unusually-shapely-for-a-guy legs. His thick hair felt cool compared to the rest of him, coiling like black lace around his fingers.

"How did you end up at Lycansbro?" Matt suddenly interrupted his thoughts.

Matt wished he wasn't so blunt, but at the moment he didn't care about being polite.

Severin thought before answering. Damn, did he have to think before he said anything? "My father ran with Gabriel's gang. When my mother tried to break away from it, he snapped her neck, and I fled."

Matt felt sick. Was everything about werewolves violent? "That's...horrible. I'm sorry."

Matt could hear the wry smile in Severin's voice as he said, "No need. When I was thirteen I went back and snapped his neck."

It was hard to relax when the kid that broke his father's neck was cradling your own in his hands.

"Don't be afraid," Severin said, suddenly sounding unusually vulnerable. "I come from a violent background. At the time, it seemed perfectly acceptable, and I'll admit I don't feel guilty about it...but I'm a bit more even tempered these days. I'd never do that to another wolf, unless he wronged me in a horrible way. Get it?"

"I think so."

"What about your parents?"

Matt hesitated. It didn't seem fair to make Severin tell him about his past and not share any of his own. "My parents fought a lot. When I was seven, my mom tried to take off and got into a car wreck. She died."

Severin didn't speak, but ran a cool hand across his face again. Is he caressing me? Matt wondered for a moment before continuing. He told Severin everything in brief, toneless sentences: his father remarrying, Beth's cattiness, Matt's position as the household punching bag...

"That's where you got the black eye from that one day?"

"Yes. It hasn't happened a lot since then."

Severin didn't say anything else, but Matt could practically feel the anger radiating off him.

Before either of them could say anything else, Matt's body exploded in pain. He cried out, rolling away from Severin to press his head against the floor. Severin held him down effectively.

Just as suddenly as the pain appeared, it disappeared. Matt was panting, and stared wildly up at Severin with sleep-deprived eyes. "What was that?" he asked hoarsely.

"Your body adjusting. Just try to stay relaxed."

"How can I stay calm when I feel like I'm dying!?" Matt's voice got higher the more he panicked, making him sound more desperate.

"Shh," Severin said again.

A moment later, the pain returned, but it was accompanied with bone jarring full-body spasm.

It left Matt breathing heavily, trying to force air into lungs that seemed to have deflated.

"You're hyperventilating," Severin said, rubbing his back. "Just relax and take deep breaths."

Matt would have snapped at him, but he had been robbed of his voice. The pain began to subside with the more body spasms, but the jerking was painful enough by itself. Around the third or fourth time, Severin tightened his grip on Matt's shoulders.

"What's wrong?" Matt grunted through clenched teeth.

"You grew fur for a second. You're almost there."

"I'm glad you're enjoying this."

"You gotta see this from my end. It's pretty damn fascinating."

Another spasm. Matt thrashed in Severin's strong hold, raking his fingertips against the floor. Matt held his shaking hand up to his face, noticing that it seemed much larger than usual. After a moment, it shrank back to normal size.

"It's coming fast," Severin murmured thoughtfully.

Matt's hands transformed again, and it was accompanied by a fresh wave of pain. Matt stared in wonderment at the five black, bloody claws that erupted from the flesh of his enlarged hands, flexing them slightly. The tears were coming freely now; they were as uncontrollable as the Change.

Severin grabbed his wrists and held them together, preparing for the next attack. He didn't have to wait long. Along with this one, Severin saw the same phenomena as he had before; Matt's body briefly sprouted thick black fur, and then it retracted back into his skin.

Matt was shaking violently. He wasn't cold.

"Don't hold anything back, Matt. I think your body is trying to hold onto its humanity. Just try to relax for the next one and it might come easier."

His advice wasn't really helping. Matt tried to relax, he really did, but deep down somewhere - probably the human part of his soul - made him fight against it. Matt understood that the human in him had to be repressed for the wolf to be born, but it wasn't going down without a fight.

With another spasm that made him feel like his bones were about to break, Matt felt something happen to his jaw. He opened his mouth to ask Severin what was going on, but all that came out was an unintelligible mumbling. His jaw could no longer form human speech correctly, and as he ran his tongue along his teeth, he noticed that they felt more pointed than before.

Severin saw that Matt's jaw had elongated, forming a sort of mutated muzzle. It wasn't pretty, but what had to be done had to be done. Matt couldn't talk, but the heartbreaking whimper he let out was more than enough to describe how he was feeling.

"You're almost there," Severin urged.

Three more attacks later and Matt no longer resembled the boy he had been just moments before. He didn't look like quite a werewolf either. His paws/hands were almost comically too big for his body, which was still the same size and still human shaped. Soft, thick black fur coated his entire body. His ears were pointed. A mouthful of lethal-looking fangs poked from his black lips. His lithe body was now sprouting muscle. He was panting again, making a snorting sound with each breath.

"You're very close, Matt."

Another pained whimper was his only response.

The wait for the next spasm was the longest, and Severin sensed something was different. They waited tensely, but the final shove was a surprise to both of them. It was so violent Severin was flung away from Matt's thrashing limbs and into the wall nearby, leaving a nice, baseball-sized hole in it from his elbow.

Severin dropped to the floor, unhurt but dazed, and shook his head to clear it. He immediately called to Matt.

A vicious sounding snarl made him smile to himself. A werewolf had been born.

A large, gangly creature slowly rose to its feet. Severin stared at it in wonderment. Matt looked back at him with scared, bright blue eyes, unchanged in the dramatic transformation. He was all legs, his long limbs trembling with uncertainty as he unfolded from the floor.

"Matt," Severin said quietly, "you're beautiful."

In that instant, Matt was gone, tearing out the open door and to Darkness-knows-where.

Severin got to his feet and calmly dusted himself off. Time to go 'wolf hunting.