You don't want to watch me die, I just came to say...

Ariel knew his slumber would be fitful. What he hadn’t bargained on were the dreams. As soon as he delved into darkness, he was plunged into a pre-trial prior to the major event, the emotional agony of which showed in the way the pup tossed and turned in the real world.

Ariel found himself in a dream-like place, filled with both familiar and not so familiar faces. He could see his father, sat upon a rock grouping mere meters away from him. Werewolves off all shapes, sizes, sanity and inanity flanked Ariel and he could hear the animalistic growls ripping from them. Ariel sent back his own growls and began to extend their paws, desperate for a swipe at the heir. Ariel could feel the adrenaline building up inside of him as he fought against the feet that just kept moving. Dreamland would be the death of him. Ariel had a feeling that it wasn’t a dream though, more of a mental connection between the pack.

“My son,” Fenrir greeted him, extending an arm to the left, gesturing to a woman. She was human and showed no signs of lycanthropy. Ariel glared. “Do you not like her?” She was beautiful. Her long ebony tresses fell to her waist, there was a splattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose and her eyes were alight with determination and flare. Ariel sat down, sparing a glance at the younger pups that were playing in the mud, before looking up at his father. They were all hybrids. Perhaps it was dreamland. Those who were becoming more wolf-like retained the form, those who didn’t remained human. Fenrir had a good mix of both and he was becoming more wolf than human by the minute.

“I don’t recall ever being you son. I was under the impression I was your heir,” Ariel retorted. Fenrir chuckled in response and in turn, like the court of a King, the werewolves around them burst into chortles of their own design. Ariel sighed exasperatedly and looked about himself, avoiding the young girl’s gaze. “So where did you pick her up from?” Ariel asked conversationally, quirking an eyebrow at his father. Fenrir’s laughter deceased and jerked his head upwards. The werewolves, who had bound her, cut the ropes, ensuring they cut her skin. They shoved her towards Ariel and he got to his feet, catching her before she fell. Ariel held her at arm’s length and looked at her critically before raising his eyes to scowl at Fenrir. “What have you given her?”

“Just a little...potion,” Fenrir replied flippantly, “Why?”

“Are you brain dead as well as ugly?” Ariel snapped, holding onto the girl’s waist before scooping her up into his arms. The ‘court’ fell silent and Fenrir smirked. “She’ll die!”

Those seemed to be the right words and the crowds began to chortle again. Fenrir sat forward, bringing his hands together. “So save her.”

Ariel blanched, “N-no...no...what was this? You called me here for a reason! What was it?”

“You killed Trent.” Fenrir answered simply. “You knew you’d be punished for it...or your pretty little mate would. Instead we came up with something more fitting...”

“What? Murder?” Fenrir looked disbelieving and Ariel stepped forward, extending his arms to show him the girl. “Does she look like she’ll survive the transformation?”

“I knew a little one that survived when they were two...I’m sure she’ll live...” Fenrir was bored with the discussion now.

“Yes but said four-year-old died when he was sixteen! It was your fault too!” Ariel yelled.

“But Ariel, sweet Ariel, doesn’t she deserve to live?” Fenrir cooed.

“Oh no, don’t turn this on me,” Ariel shook his head, backing away.

“Save her,”

It was a command, one Ariel could not refuse. He looked down at the girl. Her head was lolled against his chest. Her unconsciousness was suffocating. Ariel knelt down and set her down before him. He cupped her neck with one hand and smoothed her hair back with the other. His heart leapt into his throat as he looked up at Fenrir, questions swirling in his eyes. Fenrir pressed his fingers against his chest, a cruel smirk spreading across his lips. Ariel shuddered and lowered his head to the girl’s chest. He placed his head upon her breasts, begging for her forgiveness.

“You’re saving her life,” Fenrir replied dryly as if reading his mind, “You’re already doing her a favour.”

Ariel didn’t see it that way. His shaky hands went to the buttons of her blouse and he quickly lost patience with the buttons. Ariel tore the blouse open, earning unwanted catcalls from the crowd. He moved himself over her, shielding her from view, and stared down at her. She was a beauty, one that would be ruined. Ariel sighed, whispering short prayers before lifting her up with one hand and reaching around to unclasp her bra. Ariel pulled the offending pieces of material off and placed them down beside her. He had thought it was awkward to watch the intimacy of the male turning the female. Doing it was an entirely different experience. Begging for forgiveness was something they never did. This as rare, though.

A hand clasped his chin firmly in an iron-clad grasp and forced him to look down upon her. Her breasts were full, milky-white and aluminous almost in the white moonlight shining down upon them. The hand released his chin and Ariel lowered his head down slightly. He placed his hand over her left breast and felt the weak thump of her heart. Ariel lowered his head further down and pressed one kiss to the top of the channel between her breasts. He whispered his apologies aloud before wrapping his arms around her waist. He pulled her up to meet him and he sank his canines into her chest. He jerked his head to the right abruptly, cracking the ribs and filling the spaces between with the acidic lycanthropy. He pulled away, preventing himself from throwing her away from him. He wasn’t like Fenrir.

Ariel laid her down carefully and draped the blouse over her, refusing to look anymore. She was his responsibility. Turners were always connected to the ones they bit. They were like cubs, almost. They shared genes.

“Aren’t you brave?” he heard someone hiss. “Baby Ariel...all grown up. Biting his first-”

“Shut up!” He cried, throwing his hands over his ears, “Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

Ariel awoke with a start, climbing to his feet almost immediately. He looked about himself, remembering where he was, and experimentally ran his tongue across his teeth. A metallic taste fell onto his tongue and he shuddered, retreating towards Jack. He laid down beside her and placed his head in her lap. He didn’t know what he’d done or whether it was just a dream. Ariel didn’t think it was though. Somehow it seemed wrong. Closing his eyes again but having no intention of sleeping, the werewolf sat there, too scared to move or whisper words in his own mind.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t be a monster. Not anymore. Not ever.

Jack did not sleep heavily. She was in the state between consciousness and unconsciousness, where at times she was fully asleep and other times she only had her eyelids closed but was fully aware of what was going on around her in the rickety, old, "haunted" room in the dirty and forgotten Shrieking Shack. She could hear what was going on, sense things around her.

She was stirred to wake every once in awhile when the pup would twitch in his sleep, mumble or whimper, kick out his legs, prick his ears backward and wriggle. Whatever he was thinking or dreaming, it was obviously really bothering him. Anytime it managed to wake her up, she would smooth down his ears, rub his back and try to see if a few mumbled words could soothe him.

It was apparent that whatever demons were chasing him in the night was not enough to be driven away by soft words and gentle touch. She finally fell asleep and managed to stay warm and relaxed as she drifted off to her own sleep land which was mainly occupied by vague figures and words that she would not ever be able to recall. Soon, she was awake though.

She had heard a bit of a scuffling but nothing enough to cause her any sort of alarm for either of their safety, but she slowly opened her eyes, sitting up to see that the pup had scooted away but he was moving back towards her, lying down and dropping his head into her lap. He felt stiff and stock still. She scrunched her eyebrows and brushed the blond head. "You're fine, okay? Just fine."

Once again, Jack had to placate Ariel. He was beginning to become agitated, angry. He wasn’t angry with her either. No, he was angry with himself. Sighing, Ariel licked Jack’s fingers. He didn’t know what he’d done or what Fenrir had done, rather. It was bad news, whatever it was. She’d felt so real in his arms. The warmth of her skin felt so realistic, so familiar, against his lips, against his teeth. Ariel didn’t think he’d hurt Jack. At least he hoped he hadn’t. She didn’t look in pain. She looked normal. Concerned, but normal.

Ariel licked her fingers again as he thought.

It had felt so real. There was a high possibility that it was real, too. It was an uncommon occurrence for such things to happen but it wasn’t so uncommon that it never happened. It was that minuscule percentage that had Ariel worried. What if it had happened? What if she really was a changed person running about the forest. He wasn’t entirely sure what Fenrir’s philosophy was on biting females in the chests, though. It was probably a possession thing. Personally, Ariel didn’t want to possess anyone. He wasn’t quite as power hungry as Fenrir. He had practical needs. Fenrir wanted a race. They were very different yet before similar at the same time. If they weren’t then they wouldn’t have been father and son.

Ariel wondered what the time was.

He nudged Jack’s wrist, the one people customarily had their watches on and lifted his own paw. He looked at it, trying to communicate what he wanted, before meeting Jack’s gaze. She was beautiful. ‘Pretty little’ didn’t cover her the way it should have. Jack was different, incredibly so. She was unbiased; level-headed...she had so much going for her yet here she was, with him in a shack in the middle of the night. Something had to be wrong there. She should have been in the Gryffindor common room curled up on the couch with a lover instead of in the pits of hell with one of Hades’ dogs himself.

Thinking about that, Ariel couldn’t remember the last time he’d been to a Greek Church. Not that he was particularly religious but it definitely made him feel better, or at least the wine did. Ariel sighed once more and once again licked Jack’s fingers, at a loss of what else to do.

((So sorry, I swear I didn't fall off the end of the earth. This is long overdo and I swear I'm active again. *leaves cookies*))

Jack stared down at the pup, letting him lick her fingers as she stared down at him, looking at his skull as though she thought if she stared long and hard enough, she would be able to see right into it, read his thoughts and the ideas and feelings that were floating in his head. For someone who would rather everyone shut up and mind their own business, she was really missing hearing someone else talk.

Words were just that to Jack usually. She knew how to wield them like a sword and injure people with them, but she had only seen them as a weapon, not something that could create good, but only destroy. However, she had never wanted words to surround her any more than she had now. She wanted Ariel to tell her why he was upset, what had happened, and whether or not she should be fearing for her life.

He licked her fingers again and then nudged his cold nose against her wrist. She glanced down at her wrist and grabbed it with her other hand, meeting his questioning stare and scrunching her own eyebrows. Ruff ruff would not help her. She held his gaze and finally it clicked. The time. She glanced out the window and cocked her head. "We still have a few hours until morning."

She wondered how it would be when he shifted back to human, when he was exhausted and worn down and broken down. When they had to talk about how he had placed himself between her and a pack of werewolves, and how they were probably both in deeper trouble than either had been... And with people who could really hurt them if they wanted.

She let her head loll forward so her chin was on her chest and she sighed. "It's okay, Ariel. Nothing is going to hurt us, the only thing out to get us right now is the moon. Okay?" She knew it wasn't true. A pack of werewolves would want to finish what they started, there was people out to hurt her, and she still felt neatly alone. Her biggest problem was not the moon.

(Who are you again?? *noms on cookies* :P)

Morning was fast approaching; Ariel could feel it in his bones. He wasn’t ready for overwhelming exhaustion. He could feel it taking hold but that didn’t mean he was ready for it. Jack’s assessment was quite right but hours turned into minutes much faster than minutes turned to hours. Ariel could only do but dwell on his actions and recall exactly what he’d done. The Dreamlike state had cut off things that he could feel had happened to him while there. He could taste her blood on his tongue, her skin on his canines. It made him feel sick to the stomach. Ariel didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He couldn’t seek out the pack. They’d go on the move. He’d just have to wait for them to dump her wouldn’t he?

That prospect scared him, especially if it was the Full Moon when they decided to.

There was so much he needed to tell Jack, so much he didn’t want to divulge. He didn’t even know whether what he’d done was represented in what he called reality but he had a funny feeling it was. Fenrir was a dead man. He couldn’t do this to his own son. He couldn’t do this to some naive chick that had been taken away from its mother before its time. That was what he was comparing her to. Now she was probably a pup of some description. That thought made Ariel growl in frustration. He felt so useless. He didn’t know where they were, he could do nought to help her. He was just lying on the floor of a shack that could pancake at any given moment without warning.

Ariel lifted his head and placed it in Jack’s lap. He was at a loss. When he changed back, he’d be useless as would she without anyone to guide her. Ariel closed his eyes and leaned against Jack, curling against her for both warmth and comfort. He placed his paw on her leg and let his eyes flutter shut. He could hear the wolves howling somewhere in the forest. He could hear the hooves that belonged to the Centaurs. Never before had he felt so at a loss. The pup was reeling from its taste of human flesh. Ariel didn’t plan on letting it ever have anymore. Merlin, he thought, that being the only word to sum up the entire night.

((Right, my name is Jackles and I'm insane lol))

The pup growled and Jack sighed, thinking sadly to herself I don't know what you want from me, Ari. I don't know what to do. I don't understand, and I don't know... She hated, absolutely positively HATED feeling as though she was useless, helpless, hopeless. It hurt to sit back and just be lost in her own confusion and frustration, unable to function.

She was shaken out of her reverie as she felt a weight drop into her lap and she looked down, smiling a small sad smile. She cradled the blonde head and smoothed down his ears, staring at the window as she chewed on her lower lip and the inside of her cheek, silently brooding and mulling over her silent situation. She now understood the phrase 'wanting to fill the silence.'

Ariel curled closer to her and raised his paw, resting it against his leg as nestled even closer. She sighed a loud sigh and said, "Almost over, Ari. Then it's all peachy keen, right?" She smiled an ironic little smile and brushed his hair again. "Don't worry. I'm tough, remember? I've got your back."

(sorry for length. I'm trying to recover my muse)

Ariel was feeling restless and the pup was whining periodically for no reason. Unless of course he was feeling guilty for what he’d done. Jack’s fingers threading through his fur was nice though; not that the pup was taking much notice. It was stressing itself out. Ariel had given up trying to calm it. He had his own moral problems. He couldn’t deal with that thing doubting itself too. That made no bloody sense either. The wolf didn’t usually have a good long think about itself or what it was capable of. It was too happy for that sort of thing – too human. Now it was having a minor panic attack inside Ariel’s head because it had not only killed someone but turned someone else into a werewolf. It was so bloody typical.

Another whine came from the dog and it nuzzled Jack’s leg. It looked out at the window and Ariel watched as the moon began to lower itself down over the sky. It had fallen considerably. Now they just had to wait for sunrise. Ariel was scared about that. He didn’t enjoy the pain what so ever. The bones had only just set, now they were breaking again. Ariel just wanted to sleep. Sleep through the transformation, sleep through the medical care and sleep through the rest of his life. It would suit him down to the ground but Fenrir not so much. Ariel dropped his paw over his eyes and the dog whined yet again. Bloody animal.

The pup was restless or bothered or something. Jack wasn't sure what but he kept fidgeting and kept whining, turning and nuzzling closer to her. Jack just sat back a little bit, adjusting to get comfortable and pulling her knapsack closer to her, continuing to stroke the large white pup in a calming motion, scratching his ears and ruffling them with a small smile.

She was not sure how bad the transformation back to being a human was, but she could assume it was as bad as transforming into a wolf. Which would mean she would probably have to cart him back to the hospital wing as well. No rest for the cursed. She knew it would probably be awhile before she could see him afterwards to, and she knew he would probably have to miss class.

That meant she had to transport him back and bring him homework, and help Ari get through the pain as well. She should talk to Ollie. She was sure he knew better than anyone how to deal with Ariel after a full moon, but they had also had the run in. She would talk to Ollie, get him up to date with what had happened up in the Shack and see what would happen. She sighed and let her eyelids drift down a bit and she said, "Try to rest, you'll need it."

At some point between falling asleep and waking up, the metamorphosis began to occur. The change from one form into the other was excruciating and Ariel did all he could to stop himself from crying out as it took place. The heavy dog-like pants turned to gasps, struggling to take in air. Human gasps. Ariel had felt the bones break; that had been what had woken him up. Ariel exhaled and fell against the wooden floor. He held his hand out for his wand and it flew into his grasp. He pointed it at one of the white sheets and transfigured it into a pair of trousers. He then used whatever magic he had left to get them onto his body. It was at that point that he fell back into unconsciousness. His body was fatigued. He could barely breathe. He was struggling to take in the simplest of breaths and in his unconsciousness; he missed the lumbering footsteps that belonged to Ollie.

“Jack?” Ollie called, taking two steps at a time as he climbed the staircase. “Ariel? Is anyone in here- there you are!” Ollie’s eyes fell on the scene before him and then they darted to the wall which owned the gaping hole. “Did I miss a fight or was that always there?” he asked.

Jack stirred and blinked blearily. She must have fallen slightly as she fell asleep because she was lying limply on the ground like a rag doll, her hair mused, her left arm reached out as her left cheek rested against the cold planks of the floor. She felt her legs twitch and curled one of the up her knee creaking and popping after her cramped sleep.

Noises began to pervade her sleep and though she had been alert at the start of the evening, it was early morning, the time when Jack functioned the worst. She blinked a few times and yawned silently, her ears popping and straining to identify the noises that had woken her up. A crack or two here, noise like a breeze, the creak of the house, a whimper, a gasp-

Ari.

Her eyelids flicked open and Jack sat up, her back groaning in protest. She twisted her spine popping and cracking, and saw the writhing, transforming figure and she quickly looked away. She could not stand to watch it. She squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth. The noises stopped and she listened for a second, hearing the rustle of fabric.

She turned and saw his eyes closing. She crawled over to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders and propped him up into a sitting position, allowing his head to loll onto her shoulder as she pulled him closer. She heard footsteps and had whipped out her wand when Ollie walked into the room. She relaxed and dropped her arm into her lap. "Some werewolves found us," she said, answering him. "They fought Ari, and one of them died. He's been having nightmares or something all night, too."