"Things That Go Bump in the Night"

Written By: Honor

Disclaimers: Oranges are purple, the Wizard of OZ actually exists, and the boys have signed a contract saying they legally belong to me. And, no, they weren’t under the influence of drugs or alcohol when they signed it either…well, okay, not much. ^_^

Pairings: 3x4, existing 5xM

Rating: Velvet says it’s an R

Spoilers: Nope

Warnings: AU (so, SOOO AU), supernatural, lime, violence, some language, my twisted sense of humor…need I say more?

Author’s Chaotic Rambling on No Particular Subject: Yeah. No idea where this came from. Sat down to work on the 4x6, and wrote thirty pages of this instead. Granted, I was in the mood for some supernatural kinkiness, but I wasn’t planning on writing it! Ah well.
Enjoy!

*emphasized*


" Things That Go Bump in the Night"

Chapter 1

"Fate leads the willing and drags along the unwilling."
~Seneca, "Epistulae ad Lucilium


Things tend to change when you least expect it. At least, it always has for me. It all started the first day of my junior year in high school. I was doing the normal routine of going to classes, having the same rules told to me by every teacher, and seeing who I would be sharing classes with. The first day of school was never a productive one.

It was now fifth period, and I was mentally thanking my lucky stars that I only had fifty-five minutes more of this torture before I could leave. I looked around, trying to determine if I had any friends in this class. Advanced Biology meant lots of labs, and I wanted people I knew and could trust to be in my group.

“Hey Quatre!”

I turned and smiled. Well, there was one friend. “Hey Hilde. Come sit with me.”

“Okay. Sally’s got this class too, so let’s save her a seat.”

With one hand I slung my backpack into the chair next to mine, saving the seat as requested. Sally was really good in biology (she wanted to be a doctor eventually) so she would be good to work with. That left one person to go. As Hilde sat across from me at the table I asked, “So how’s your day so far?”

“Boring, what else can you expect?”

I nodded in wry agreement to that. “Seen any new faces?” I sure hadn’t. Just the same people I’ve been going to school with since junior high.

“Actually, I’ve seen two. Both of them are hot, too.”

With that one statement, Hilde captured my complete attention. “Oh? Want to elaborate?”

She knows quite well where my preferences lie and smirked at me. “One of them’s part Japanese, but he’s got wicked blue eyes. The other one is more your type—tall, yummy, dark green eyes, quiet. You know the drill.”

I wanted to glare at her, but she had me pretty much pegged. That was my type. “Ah. Did you catch names or were you too busy drooling?”

“The Japanese one is Heero, and the other guy is Trowa.” She arched an eyebrow at me, still with that annoying smirk playing over her mouth. “If you turn, you can see Trowa for yourself.”

I had sat with my back to the door, which apparently was a bad idea on my part. I twisted quickly to see what she was talking about—oooh. Nice. Hilde had him pegged, nice and tall and yummy, even with hair covering half his face.

Hilde leaned in and whispered, “Can you get a reading on him?”

Because Hilde and I have been friends for years, she knows about my ability. I’ve usually got shields up—no one, especially me, wants to know what hundreds of teenagers are feeling on a day to day basis—but when I meet someone new I try to get a ‘reading’ on them to see if they’re trustworthy or not. I dropped about three levels of shields and took a peek at the new guy.

What I felt nearly threw me out of my chair. I slammed the shields back in place on sheer instinct, my head reeling. Trowa’s head snapped in my direction, eyes wide with surprise. I quickly turned away from him, breathing hard, mind spinning in mad circles.

“Quatre?” Hilde leaned over the table, shaking my shoulder slightly. “What? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I didn’t answer her, looking back over my shoulder at Trowa. He was still staring at me, but now it was more concerned and confused than surprised. I held his eyes for a moment, with that first sensation I felt from him ringing loudly in my head.

He wasn’t human.

+

I didn’t say anything to Sally or Hilde during class, and by the time the bell rang they were ready to tie me to a chair in order to get answers. I managed to get them off school campus and walking home before I started dishing out those answers.

“Quatre, what the hell has you so spooked? You went sheet white! What, is the new guy a serial killer or something?” Hilde was waving her arms madly about in agitation, nearly smacking Sally who was walking beside her.

“No. He’s…not human.”

They both stopped dead, giving me identical looks of ‘did he just say what I think he said?’ “Run that by me again, but explain it,” Sally requested.

“He’s not human. Look, human emotions are…the closest that I can describe it is as a sensation. Anger feels rough, happiness is warm and fuzzy, but most of the time a person is somewhat neutral, just smooth. No matter what they’re feeling, though, they all have the same underlying ‘texture’ to them, the same shape. Like all rubber balls are the same thing, no matter what colors or sizes they are, right?” I waited for their nods, seeing that they were following my explanation. “This guy is so far from a rubber ball it’s not funny. If I had to put it into words…it’s like he’s liquid metal. Hot and with a very sluggish current to him.”

“Wow,” Hilde said after that had been processed. “I guess that would be creepy. So if he’s not human, than what is he?”

“Or can you even assume he’s not human?” Sally disagreed. She gave Hilde an exasperated look. “Quatre’s not an expert at this, Hil. Maybe this Trowa guy just feels really different, we can’t assume he’s not human.”

Oh he wasn’t human alright. I knew that Sally didn’t believe in the supernatural, though, so I didn’t argue. I let Hilde do it for me. I just went back to thinking about what I had felt, and the look in those green eyes. Trowa had somehow felt it when I touched him, something that has never happened before. And he knew that I knew he wasn’t human. My question was…what was he going to do about it?

+

I had no idea what to expect. According to modern science, empaths didn’t even exist (I decided long ago not to enlighten them on that subject) so I couldn’t even research why someone felt different. There was no way to prepare for this except to expect the unexpected. I just wish I could be armed at school. It would have made me feel a little better.

At lunch the next day I grabbed my usual rootbeer and nutty bar (yes I know it’s not nutritional, I’ll worry about nutrition when I’m forty) and proceeded to the usual place where I hung out with Hilde and Sally, occasionally one of their friends. As I passed by the wrestling room, I got a tickle in the back of my mind. Dropping a layer of shields, I realized that there were two people right behind me.

Not human people.

Oh goody.

The place was completely deserted, and usually stayed that way during the lunch break. If something happened, there would be no witnesses. I stopped short, and debated with myself. Try to run for it? Stand my ground? Hell, these…people…weren’t even human. I had no idea what they were capable of.

My survival instincts told me it was a bad idea, but I stayed planted and simply called out, “Yes?”

There was a brief scuff of a sneaker against concrete. Turning, I faced them as they walked to me. From Hilde’s description, the one with messy brown hair and sharp blue eyes must be Heero. And of course, I knew Trowa. They both felt the same, that weird pattern of brewing violence and calm, in a shape I couldn’t identify.

Trowa stepped toward me, closing the distance until only a few feet separated us. That made me distinctly nervous. He must have sensed that because he stopped. “You know what I am,” he stated quietly. “How?”

I negated this with a shake of my head and corrected him. “I know you’re not human. That’s all.”

That made him pause and he and Heero exchanged glances. Some kind of silent communication was done, and an agreement was made. Heero moved to Trowa’s side, eyes weighing me. “If we tell you what we are, will you tell us how you know?”

I considered that. It seemed a fair trade of information. I was dying of curiosity and I couldn’t fight blindly. “Yes.”

“We are werewolves.”

The world tilted suddenly. When did I fall down the rabbit hole and into another world? Still…yes, it made sense now. That violence matched that of a wolf, and the shape of it…it was subtle, like a thunderstorm brewing, full of violent power that was just on the verge of being released. Yes, it all made way too much sense.

Taking a deep breath I got my head back together and stated, “I am an empath. You don’t feel human, that’s how I knew.”

They exchanged looks again, but this time they looked both astonished and…I imagine that gold diggers finding the mother load would have the same expression on their faces that these two wore. My instincts were poking at me again, telling me it was wise to start running now. Somehow, I didn’t think that would do much good, just delay the inevitable.

“You must come with us,” Heero announced. “You must meet our Packmaster.”

Um, let me think about this. No way, Jose. “I’ll have to decline. I’m not a threat to your…pack, Heero. I’m not going to tell anyone about you.” They probably wouldn’t believe me anyway. “Can’t we just pretend that this whole conversation never happened?”

Trowa shook his head firmly, denying this. “Our Packmaster knows about this. He wants to meet you.”

Darn. “Is this a ‘now’ sort of thing, or can it wait until school is out? Now, huh? Okay.” Blowing out a breath I resigned myself to the fact that my life was becoming weird. I thought about calling someone, warning them of what was going on, but…who? And I wasn’t sure if it would do any good. If something did happen to me, I didn’t want either family or friends pulled into it. “Lead the way.”

+

Maybe I’ve watched too many horror movies, but the concept of a pack of werewolves matched with dark caves in my head. You can imagine my surprise when we pulled up in front of a two-story house in a very nice place out in the country. The man that did the driving on this little field trip was named Rashid. He was freakin’ huge, I felt like a six-year-old standing next to him. Oh, and he was a werewolf too. A very polite one though.

As I stepped out of the car, I took a good look with my sense. There were at least thirty werewolves in the vicinity, another that felt different from everyone else, and one…I had no idea what that person was. He looked very different, that was all I knew.

“This way,” Trowa said at my elbow. I followed him into the house, my eyes darting around like crazy trying to see everything. It looked like any other home, well decorated in muted colors of greens and tans, comfortable furniture, and so forth. It could have been normal if you ignored the werecubs playing in the living room. They were cute little rascals though. They almost looked like puppies, except they were very big, very toothy, and felt like Trowa and Heero.

Everybody paused when I entered the house, staring at me in surprise. It made me a little uncomfortable and I kept my eyes on Trowa’s back as he led me up the stairs and down further into the back of the house.

We entered a room that was rather barren, except for one large chair in the center, and several smaller chairs in a semi-circle around it. Comfortably ensconced in the largest chair was a young man about my age—or at least, he looked that way. I got the feeling that he was much, much older. He had a thick chestnut braid trailing over one shoulder, cobalt blue eyes leaning toward violet, handsome features. Really hot, all in all.

And very, very dangerous.

I knew without being told that this was the Packmaster. I nodded to him respectfully as soon as I entered, careful to keep my body language non-threatening. Not difficult, I don’t look threatening to begin with.

Trowa and Heero flanked me on either side and I heard the door close with a quiet snick before Trowa did the introductions. “Packmaster, this is Quatre Winner. Quatre, our Packmaster of the Hades Pack, Duo Maxwell.”

Duo stood languidly, eyes intent on me. “Sit down, Quatre Winner.”

This was not a person I wanted to piss off. I sat as directed, keeping my eyes level with his. “You have questions for me?”

“Indeed.” He sank back into his chair, but now leaned toward me. His stare was a tad unnerving. “What are you?”

“Empath.”

One brow arched up. “It’s been many generations since I have encountered one with that ability. You must be strong, if you could immediately sense one of mine. Who is your master?”

I blinked at him in confusion. “I have no master.”

His forehead drew together, the frown more confused than displeased. “Then who taught you?”

“The school of hard knocks,” I admitted ruefully. “Few even believe in my ability. I had to learn on my own how to control it.”

“Unbelievable,” he muttered to himself in astonishment. “A human with your power without a master? What is your full name?”

I didn’t see how that would have anything to do with anything, but answered regardless. He’d proven to know more about me than I did. I was supposed to have a master? “Quatre Raberba Winner.”

“Raberba?!” Suddenly he started to laugh, flopping back into his chair. “Of all the luck!”

Uh? I glanced at Heero and Trowa to see if they had any idea why their Packmaster was laughing like a loon. They were staring at me as if I had just sprouted wings. Why…? “Can someone explain to me what the hell is going on?”

It took the Illustrious Packmaster another minute to get control of himself. “Oh Quatre,” he gave me a rueful smile. “You poor kid. You have no idea what a godsend you are to us. Let me see if I can explain everything. For many, many generations the Raberba line has been well known for being empaths. Weres, especially Werewolves, would seek them out as advisors or even mates if we could.”

“What?” I blurted out. “Why?”

“When you look at us, what do you see?”

“Violence, mixed with strands of calmness.”

“Those strands became thinner as we get older,” Duo admitted without batting an eyelash. “During a full moon especially, we feel the instincts of the beast and we can sometimes be lost in violence. I’ve lost several of my pack in the past few years because they became mad and I have been forced to kill them. I do not want to lose more.”

That I can understand. “But what can an empath do to halt that?”

“A great deal, if strong enough. A Raberba is always a strong empath, until recent years. The last three generations their blood has steadily been weakening. Until you, at least. You are strong enough to not only perceive emotions, but to emit them as well. You,” his eyes seemed to bore right into my skull, “have the power to calm the beast within us. Do you see now, why you are a godsend?”

A lot of things clicked in my head. He wanted to use me. He wanted me here, to save his pack from losing their minds. And I don’t think he’d be willing to let me go if I didn’t feel up to the challenge. “You expect me to keep track of thirty-something werewolves?”

“This is not as onerous as it sounds. Your presence alone will help us tremendously.”

I wasn’t sure if I could believe that. “How can you know if I’m strong enough for this?” And what if I wasn’t willing to do it?

“I know,” he refuted simply.

Well that was soooo reassuring. “And if I don’t wish to?”

“You will,” he said in that infuriatingly certain voice. “A Raberba cannot stand by and do nothing.”

~*~*~*~

Honor: Caitilin mentioned in her feedback that it was a bad idea for Quatre to say his full name here…I have to agree, but he always did it in the series, so I feel like I can put it in here and be justified while doing so. ^_~


Chapter 2

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