HOBI POV: 

I smile, catching sight of Kookie trailing after (Y/N), ears perking at her scent soft and gentle when she suddenly stills and peers back at him, warm and fond, her hair damp and tousled, his own still pearling droplets against his throat, clutching his towel tightly before holding it out. 

“Groom my ears please?” 

And though they’d just left the bathroom together, cheeks flushed and a happy contentment and trust brimming between them, a shared space and intimacy that’s blurred lines just for them, there’s this endearing bashfulness as she nods, ears standing tall as she holds her hand out. 

His sliding into hers, fingers entangling. 

“I’ll even get the special oil whilst we wait.” She promises, some of the tension that had been silently bubbling in her fretting and rushing about the center, eased out somewhat. 

Grounded by Kookie. 

Hours pass after dinner, dishes long since cleaned and leftovers boxed up. Warm milk passed around in mismatched cups in the hope that the heat of it at least brings some comfort, something to hold onto whilst we wait. And despite the night inching further into utter darkness, there’s no drowsiness on anyone’s face, everyone silently fretting and coiled up; scents betraying worry and concern and growing anxiousness when Jimin and Namjoon don’t return. 

It’d been obvious when they’d left, sweet and thorough in their scents to the entire pack, that something was weighing down on them. 

A raid. 

They’d gone to do a raid, a potentially massive breakthrough in the case, and their bodies had been strumming with tension and anticipation when they’d curled close for hugs. 

A raid. 

It should’ve been done hours ago, and their phones were on radio silence, customary during ops they’d informed, easing away potential worry and concern before they left. 

“Don’t worry if calls don’t go through, phones stay off until we’re done and cleared off. We’ll be back for dinner.” Joon had murmured as he’d ducked his head to fold close to Yoongi hyung, throat bared for the light nuzzled scent to his jaw, rumbling happily. 

Dinner had been hours ago, and the clock continues to tick away, ominously loud and grating on the senses, fingers curling against my legs to fight the itch to shatter it. 

Watch as Yoongi hyung’s fingers continue to brush across the back of Kookie’s folded ears, gently coaxing his fingers away from the tips as he tugs anxiously, legs jostling on the couch and body tucked small. 

Vulnerable. 

Watch his body unconsciously tilt towards the touch before he drags himself upright, teeth gnawing at his lip and all cagey and bristling with energy; bubbling higher with each passing hour, looking halfway torn between rushing out to get it out of his system or from bursting into tears, heart aching and clenching painfully at the sight. 

Watch as Tae curls closer against Jin hyung, the stark opposite of Kookie, and desperately chasing comfort and reassurance, eyes alert even as his head remained tucked on hyung’s shoulder, nosing, and burrowing closer with a pained rumble at the lack of sound, of keys jangling and the door swinging open. Jin hyung’s feathers continue to rustle and flutter even with his wing covered protectively around Tae, eyes alert and wide awake and lips pressed tightly, the scent of vanilla glaringly absent. Swallowed whole by the natural pheromones, raw and powerful that consumed the vanilla, leaving our noses void of his sweet light scent. I couldn’t smell Jin hyung. Without the vanilla he was an eerily blank slate. And one no-one could read to gauge exactly what he was feeling or thinking. 

And let my arm curl tighter to draw (Y/N) close, eyes glancing over and seeing the way her fingers tighten on her phone, tapping the screen to check for a notification to light it. See the nervous tremor to her legs despite them being folded away and tucked, her side pressed to mine, anise heavy and decayed, see the way her eyes flit almost constantly to the door, ears folding with dismay. 

“You’ve been up since dawn (Y/N) and on your feet all day… try nap at least.” I murmur, fingers gently brushing against her ears, feeling the exhaustion in her scent, in the droop of her body but the sheer insistence and determination that her eyes stay open with. 

“Not till they come back. Even Jinyoungie doesn’t know. Neither does JB. And Yugi doesn’t know any details either… they… they’re fine right?” voice quiet and trembling slightly, fingers fiddling with the hem of a jumper too large on her. 

Binnie’s. 

Whenever her instincts were frazzled on edge or when she needed and chased a much deeper comfort that came from just intrinsically pack… the pack scented clothes came back. Her pack’s. And even now she burrows deeper, brushing over the knitted material, nose ducking to chase the hazelnutty scent, head tilting slightly towards me. 

“They’re fine. Just caught up… and going to come through all quiet and hush hush so they don’t wake us.” Jin hyung says with such confidence. 

A wry smile tugging at his tired features, fingers carding through inky curls and pressing a quick kiss to Tae’s temple. 

“Trust me cub…” fingers coaxing him closer, throat tilting for a scent-mark he himself won’t detect but brought immense relief temporarily for Tae who noses at the proffered skin, more thorough drags of skin against skin, mouthing at it as he lays a pheromonal claim onto hyung. Hand curled around his waist and leaning into him, wishing to burrow deeper and hide within the winged embrace’s safety and protection. 

Though hyung had said it to keep everyone’s spirits up, to try diffuse the tension and worry continuously mounting, when the sound of the door being unlocked does sound, electronic beeping before the lock is twisted open, it makes a tension bleed out of my spine, bodies straightening at the sound of footsteps. 

The small, shuddered breath of relief beside me doesn’t go unnoticed, legs drawn out, hurrying to her feet with a slight tremble to them that my hand automatically moves to steady, hand curling around her waist. 

Watch as Kookie bolts. 

Body jolting up and antsy energy propelling him down the hallway, ears perked up with distress and alertness, scuttering out of Yoongi hyung’s touch, cotton somehow burning a trail down my lungs. Strong and overpowering. 

And find my throat clenching, closing around nothing as my lungs cave at the sight, flinching at the bruises and scratches; angry and vivid blooming on skin when they trudge in. 

Joon’s lips trying to curl up to soothe Kookie, fingers ghosting along his cheek, but the act of smiling only draws to attention the steady purple bruise mottling skin across the left side of his face, to the slight wince he fails to mask from an entire pack’s attentive gaze. 

Watch as Jimin follows, ears folded and angry lines of red marring skin, tail dragging across the carpet and a weariness sunk deep in bones, eyes slightly shadowed and lined with red, lips wobbling with feigned warmth as he sees us, hears the distressed rumble that slips past Tae’s lips. 

Stomach working itself into tighter knots, clenching painfully as I hold onto (Y/N), grounding myself from the way she leans back, curling against me at the sight as they enter the living room. 

Passing through the threshold with the overwhelming scent of mint and earthy musk, clashing with countless scents that cling to their skin and for one instance makes my head pound with how many there are. 

Watch the tight press of Kookie’s lips and the slightly watery quality to his lips as he breathes shallowly, has been since moving closer, letting Yoongi hyung tug him back—sensing his discomfort at the fog of foreign scents that surround them despite a more neutral scent trying to subdue it. 

Scent-scrub hadn’t worked then. 

Watch black feathers unfurl from a tiger who dithers for one instance before hurrying forward, tugging Jimin bodily into his hold, embracing him close, nosing against his cheek with a painful tenderness. 

Tail immediately wrapping around him, stripes curling around his thigh and fingers gentle, gaze molten as he brushes fingers over the angry scratches. 

“Did you get whoever did this to you?” a soft murmur laced with a suppressed growl. 

A tilt and a growled assent from Joon. 

“We got them all. The raid was successful… there was just so much to do afterwards.” He shares, voice weary and tired. 

Watch, feeling all at once weightless and numb, as Jin hyung draws them to sit down, Tae curled close to Jimin, holding him close, nosing at the visible injuries with growing distress, hands wormed tight around his torso. Trying to meld himself to our fox. 

Watch Jin hyung’s hands much lighter and careful lower Joon down whose body locks up and he keens. 

A rough pained sound that has (Y/N) going stiff against me. Has everyone stilling. 

Every feather on Jin hyung’s wings stop moving, painfully still, hands hovering and watching as Namjoon clings to Jin hyung. Hands gripping his waist as he tries to lower himself down, breathing slightly sharper, Jimin’s eyes sharp and worried but also knowing. 

The tightness and firm resolve is what has hands gently drawing the loose shirt up, a sharp intake of breath and a curse- hoarse and ragged. 

Nausea inches up my throat at the discoloration around his side, bruising where his ribs are, across his hipbone. 

He looks like he’s been flung against something. Slammed into something with an incredibly forceful impact. 

Feel his gaze on me and the soft hyung as he brushes hands away to draw the shirt down, my own tightening around (Y/N)’s hip. 

Painfully tight and bruising but she doesn’t make a single sound. 

Utterly still. 

“You got checked out didn’t you?” Yoongi hyung asks, hand smoothening over Kookie’s spine, soothing even as his tail curls and swishes with silent agitation, gently coaxing the fretting bun to the side so he can move past. 

Sees the nods. 

“There’s salves that will at least numb the pain in your side… the rib isn’t broken is it?” voice a low thrum, silently contained in its worry. 

Brushing past to get to the first aid kit, that has long since grown into cupboard size with its vastness, eyes flickering over to assess every visible energy. 

Scuffed split knuckles, bruises and scratches and a weariness that clings to them. 

“No… it’s fine hyung. It’ll clear up in a few days.” He insists, Tae’s tail curling over to latch onto his wrist, anchoring him from moving and petulant wide eyes stare at him dolefully from all ends, stopping him from rising. 

As if Jin hyung’s flared wings would’ve tucked back to let him move off the sofa, face pinched with discomfort, hand unconsciously curling to shield his vulnerable side. 

“Sit pup. Let hyungs see.” Voice soft but steeped with authority. 

And will as I might… I can’t bring my legs to move, to move past to see for myself, to assure myself they’re okay, body cemented where it stands. 

Clutching at (Y/N) because if I don’t… then what excuse do I have for not moving forward, for not rushing over, an icy numbness spreading through my veins. 

And as if she senses it, (Y/N)’s hand clasps over mine, gripping my fingers tightly, curled around my wrist as if she too can’t bear to let go. 

And a small, small comfort comes from that. 

“How many….?” She finally asks, the words so contained and levelled. 

So at odds with the comfort her body unconsciously projected that she was chasing. 

“How many hybrids did you find?” she repeats, fingers tightly entangled with my own, a sharp tinge to her scent, decayed and heavy. 

“A little over 60.” Joon replies. 

Sixty. 

Sixty hybrids found. 

“Dead or alive?” 

My throat tightens at her question. 

“Over 60 alive. There weren’t any dead hybrids. And we had a rare case of two shifted babies found, hidden and alone.” Jimin adds, voice slightly hoarse. 

I re-examine the redness to his eyes, the way he shrinks against Tae when he tugs him bodily closer, tail wrapping tighter and arms winding around him more. 

Pressed to his side with fierce protectiveness, fangs unconsciously bared, but also so painfully tender and careful of how tightly coiled Minnie’s body is, how every spurt of sharp mint is a blatant indication of how much he’s paining. 

I feel the air in the room thicken. 

My own scent plunging into bitter, burnt sharpness. 

Feet staggering, eyes burning, prickling, and stinging with a sharpness, vision blurring. And still her hand holds mine, lungs tightening and closing around nothing. 

Babies. 

There’d been babies at the barn. 

Bile stings the back of my throat, tears spilling over, a choked noise strangled and hoarse pushing past my lips, fangs pricking sharply and every nerve raw and sharp. 

Babies. 

There’d been babies taken from homes, from families. Parents yearning and mourning, consumed with grief. 

Babies taken to become sex objects… trained from the get-go, conditioned into knowing nothing but submitting. 

A slow jerked nod, (Y/N)’s ears folding. 

Watching with tears trickling down my cheeks, the gentle probing of fingers as Jin hyung checks, wincing himself, wings tucking back as he draws his hands back, taking the proffered items Yoongi hyung comes back bundled in his arms. 

Dropping silently in front of Jiminie, squeezing reassuringly. 

More measured and calm. 

“I doubt you stayed long enough for a proper check up or treatment…” muttered under his breath. 

And suddenly the fingers go lax around mine. 

And despite the tremor in her legs and the palpable tentativeness and fear that clings to her, (Y/N) edges forward, carefully leaning over to start cleaning the scratches, fingers trembling as she dabs at Jimin’s jaw and cheek and throat, stilting with every wince and bitten hiss. 

See the delicate touch of her fingers, almost painfully scared to close the distance, to cover his body protectively with the same likeliness that Tae, Yoongi and Jin do. 

There’s pain and fear in her movements. 

Stilted and stiff and jerky. 

Moving carefully but somehow… afraid to lean too close, afraid that her touch will hurt them. 

Going stiff when Jiminie’s hand encircles her wrist, eyes doleful and searching, ears folding and lips parting… mint burning sharp, each breath inhaled prickling my lungs and throat as I swallow it. 

Hands shaking as I scrub at my wet cheeks, curling back. 

Watching the pack hover close and for once… for the first time feeling as if I’m an intruder broaching on something I don’t have the right to be a part of, a pack moment that for once I feel nauseated to be witness, stomach churning and head pounding with a loud roaring that rings in my ear. 

My mates were hurting and I can’t even will my feet to move. 

I could see Kookie’s distress, his anxious thumping of his feet, the way his fingers tug nervously at his ears; desperate for comfort, to do something as he dithers. But still he’s close. 

Despite not knowing what to do, he hovers close, his cottony scent a balm that unconsciously relaxes the others, tension easing out of set shoulders and rigid spines. 

The earlier haze of comfort and closeness he and (Y/N) had imbued is long gone. Consumed in the sharp, heavy rolling mix of the pack scents, permeated through with sharp mint and cloying earth. 

See how Jin hyung painstakingly keeps Joon from moving restlessly whilst Yoongi hyung with featherlight touches applies salve. 

See how all in one instance, (Y/N)’s body staggers back, scent thick and heavy with pain, legs trembling and looking so close to buckling. 

And finally. 

Finally my body staggers into movement, hurrying forward, eyes catching the stricken panic on Jiminie’s face, trying to rise up to get to her, Joon’s body jerking forward; ears folding as he keens with pain, as she moves away. 

Catching onto the blankness in her eyes and the tremor to her hand as she clasps it over her mouth, swallowing heavily. 

Turning to stumble out the living room, body ducking away from the scene. 

And finally my body obeys my mind. 

Hurrying after her before the bathroom door closes and steadying her just as her knees buckle, lowering myself down with an arm carefully holding her. 

Watch shaking fingers try grasp for purchase on the floor, stomach heaving as she’s sick. Body shuddering as she sobs, her scent sour and sharp and piercing skin, the salty tang of her tears curling through her pheromones. 

Hand rubbing up and down her back, lips pressing to her nape, to her shoulder, ears drooping as the sound of her cries between heaving, tremble and shatter the air. 

Sobbing as if her heart has been torn out her chest, the wound gaping wide and her agony tearing at skin until it too feels raw with the torment she shakes in my hold with. 

Slumping back exhausted and drained and eyes red as she sobs, clutching at my shirt and every limb curling tighter and smaller. The tremors still wracking her body and her breathing ragged, pupils dilated and for a moment it’s as if she doesn’t see me. Sees something that clouds her eyes with pain and anguish before she crumples. 

“I can’t… I can’t…” broken apologies and pleas that despite holding so much weighted meaning without knowing… without asking I understand. 

I can’t either. 

And maybe… maybe that’s okay. 

Hands encircling her protectively, sobs muffled against me. 

And with her cries my own get muffled, tears trickling down cheeks and hand cradling her close. 

(Y/N) POV: 

Something ugly and dark rears itself in my chest at the sight of the discoloration bruising Joon’s lower torso, something pained and deeply terrified that makes my body jolt, ceasing to exist for a few moments, as if everything comes to a screeching halt. 

As if someone has physically reached into my chest and crushed my heart in an ironclad grip, a deep agony that ripples through my limbs and nerves as I look at the bruising, look at the dried blood and angry red coloring skin, the folded ears and the scents that make my stomach churn with nausea. 

It takes everything in me to not bolt. 

Legs jittering and trembling violently, every instinct screaming and sobbing and begging to flee, to move back, to get away from the scene unfolding in front of my eyes. All at once familiar and unfamiliar; foreign and strange and painfully raw and tormenting to look at. 

I didn’t know how bad the raid at the barn had gone but the two heads of the shifted and unshifted patrols had come back looking like this makes fear, crippling and overwhelming scour deep at my instincts, biology, and mind. 

Feel my body stagger back, instincts choosing flight, flight, flight; screaming to turn and hide, to burrow away from the tsunami of thoughts, memories and feelings, teeth biting down on my tongue to stifle the scream, the plea. 

Feel the ground shake, teeter under my feet, feel the hand that curls around my hip and draws me back, feel the hard dig of fingers curling tight and the scent of sharp, burnt caramel curl through fissures and cracks and slithers of lungs that cave and collapse in on themselves. 

Hear and see the others move around and talk as if underwater, voices muffled, actions slowed and everything but their scents; that steadily grow thicker and heavier, press in from every angle and side, trapping me within them.  

And all the while I can’t bring my body to move, cemented to where I stand, feeling the tremors wrack my body as I watch Jin and Yoongi tend to them, gentle fingers brushing against skin and applying salve, fretty black feathers rustling and shifting, the grating echoing thumps of Kookie’s foot restlessly tapping against the carpet, the swish of a stripey tail as it tightens around Jimin, drawing him impossibly closer. 

Watch and can’t move. 

Can’t hurry forward or backwards. 

Body suspended between fight and flight, aching to go forward, but the breaths I draw in are ragged and raspy, nerves tingling with hypersensitivity, everything harsh and overwhelming. 

Feel the bruising, grounding grip curl tighter, body pressing closer whilst simultaneously drawing me back and hear my own voice, as if disconnected and coming from afar waver out. 

Needing to know. 

Needing to know just how many hybrids they’d rescued; how many had been lost and how many had been saved. 

Feel the tremble in my throat even as the words come out contained, forcefully level because if I let the already weak gates burst then a dam would shatter, I would crumple and break if I let myself fall into the consuming waves of hysteria and panic that slowly mounted higher and higher. 

Try to swallow, to breathe past the fiercely entangled earthy mint that suffocates me, tightens a noose around my throat, every breath uncontrolled and raspy. 

And slowly, slowly my fingers let go of the ones fiercely holding mine, sliding them away from the sharp, fierce protective comfort they unconsciously bring. 

Force my legs into movement towards them, towards my injured mates, steel my fingers to stop trembling as I reach for antiseptic and cotton, fumbling for a small wad. Aching to curl them back from the angry red I tentatively apply antiseptic onto the scratches. 

Flinching at the bitten wince that slips past Jimin’s lips, jerking slightly when every small, contained movement of his sparks a greater, nauseating anxiety to bloom fiercer and wilder from the pit of my stomach. Body stiff and unable to move forward, to move closer to do anything more than tend to him in that instance even though every nerve, every fiber, every inch of me screams to comfort him. To give him that biological satisfaction of safety and pack. 

And when his own eyes flicker with an understanding, with a depth of awareness and concern, hand reaching out to still the violent tremor in my own, I jerk back. 

Breath ragged, feet stumbling for purchase and feeling Joon’s weighted stare on me, feel Tae’s tail brush against my fingers, trying to draw me back. Feel my head spin as I look more and more at their injuries, blinking out darkness creeping against my vision, ears flickering and folding to try curl away from the shrieks and sobs I can hear in my ears. 

The sight of them blurs, legs threatening to buckle, moving one step back. Then another. 

Another tail gently brushing against my ankle, feel the flutter of wings as I move away, cheeks wet and scent sickeningly decaying. 

Move away from them because the nausea churns viciously in my stomach, inching its way up my throat that closes tighter and tighter around nothing, hand clasped over my mouth as I duck out the living room, away from the weighted concern and hurry away. 

Fight the tremors wracking my legs as I tug the bathroom door open, energy sapped, legs buckling in front of the toilet. But my knees never slam against the ground, hand curling close to steady me, a body lowering down with mine, bracketing me as my stomach clenches, spasming and fingers scrabbling on the floor. 

My eyes sting as I’m sick, tears slipping thicker down my cheeks and scent sour on my tongue, feeling a hand curl over my spine, steadying and grounding. 

Sharp burnt caramel cloyingly thick, just as distressed but his hands, his body remains close. Remains steady. Grounding. 

A support I feel myself teetering back against, cradled as I slump, tears soaking the collar of his shirt, bile souring my mouth and the feeling that everything was slowly slipping away from me. 

First my pack. 

Now my mates. 

Why were people around me getting hurt over and over? And why couldn’t I do anything about it? 

------- 

“(Y/N) … (Y/N) … wake up. You’ve got to wake up.” A voice hisses at my ear, wading through treacle with how sluggishly and slowly they penetrate my hearing. Ears folding and flickering slowly, weakly, curling away from the sound, curling tighter in on myself. 

Every movement sparks a dull throb through every limb, face feeling puffy and swollen with tears, eyes glued shut no matter how much I try to wrench them open, no matter how much I will them to move. To open and turn towards the voice, limbs feeling like lead, the slightest movement sparking a bone deep weariness inside me. To just sink back into sleep, to sink deeper into the heavy, heavy weighted feel of it. 

“(Y/N) please… wake up. Open your eyes, it’s important.” The voice urges, hand shaking me roughly, spiked with panic and alarm, trying to get me to turn, to peer up at the voice. 

“…m exhausted…” I slur out, lips feeling stuck together, tongue heavy and uncooperative in my mouth, head feeling as if stuffed with cotton, trying to brush the hand off, impatient and too tired, aching to just sleep. 

“(Y/N) please… please, please. Need to get up. Look at me…” voice turning pleading, begging with shaky sobs, pitched with distress and the scent of pine and wood turned decayed and burnt; the smell akin to a forest fire, lungs burning as I breathe it in. 

Turn closer to it, eyes forcefully blinking open, narrowed slits as I peer up at the face that hovers over me. 

See cheeks wet with tears and palpable relief cross his face, see his lips tremble as he sobs. Body curling closer to me, hands careful as he draws my head from the makeshift pillow to his lap, fingers painfully careful as they hover over me before probing skin, flinching back when I hiss at the poke. 

“…what’s wrong…?” voice slurred with exhaustion, hand trembling; as if the effort of doing so is immense, brushing against his tearstained cheek, curling towards the slightly longer strands of hair, eyes fluttering open and shut. 

The teetering balance between awake and falling back into the weighted darkness is one I wobble on, the ground seeming to shake unsteadily with me. 

“I’ve been calling you forever… you weren’t moving. Thought you’d died.” He sobs, curling closer, head bent towards me, the sounds ringing out in a darkness that presses close from every angle, that threatens to swallow whole the sound were it not for the way how even the soft tremble seems to ring out; shattering and piercing through the darkness. 

“Don’t be silly…” tongue feeling heavy and like lead, uncooperative and limp as I try to speak, sounds slurred heavier. 

“…..fine…don’t be a baby buck.” I mumble, thumb rubbing at a smear on his cheek, halting when he winces, and it doesn’t rub off. 

A bruise. 

“…hurt?” I ask, trying to tilt up towards him. 

See the frantic shake of his head as his hands tighten around me, trying to keep me from getting up. 

“You were gone for hours… what did they do to you?” he sobs, fingers brushing back hair that sticks to clammy, sticky skin, clinging to my forehead, his teeth catching at his bottom lip. Wincing at the clamminess but still he curls closer, his sharp decaying scent curling against my own. Tired and weakly spurting out, eyes fluttering as the darkness crowds closer. 

“…nothing. You’re okay aren’t you?” hand slowly reaching for his, small fingers lacing together, the sharp thinness of his wrist uncomfortable against skin but still I grip tighter. Try to squeeze my fingers around his, glands brushing against each other’s. 

“…m fine. Missed dinner…” voice soft. 

Startling at the feel of tears dripping onto my cheeks, sorrow streaking down his cheeks and falling onto my own. 

Feel one of his hands brush against my stomach, sniffling as he looks at me. 

Heart aching and face crumpled with pain.

“I’m sorry… sorry little fawn.” 

“You ate?”  

A jerky nod, small antlers peeking out from matted hair, head tilting down to rub his nose against mine, the slightly rough brush of antlers against sensitive skin. 

“Then it’s fine… come sleep.” I mumble, tugging at his thin shirt, drawing him further down. 

Feel his hands slip away unwillingly so he can curl beside me, winding them back fiercer and tighter, pressed close to me just as much as I am to him. 

Feel his body press close, thin sharp angles pricking at skin, cheek bumping mine, sobs muffled against my throat and apologies slurring and blending together, his scent carrying on through even to dreamless sleep, the heavy curtain of black drawn over my eyes once more. 

The next time my eyes awake, it’s a different voice mumbling for me, a smaller weight pressed close and Min-Jun’s eyes damp with tears tugging at me, burrowing closer when he sees my eyes flutter open. 

“Fawn noona wake up!” he pleads and to his soft sweet neutral scent going sharp with distress. 

My body moves much quicker, slipping up and gathering him to me, fingers brushing at wet cheeks and nosing at skin, trying to calm him. 

“What’s wrong sweetheart? Where are you hurt?” voice fretting and scent pulsing under scentblockers. Watch him curl closer, immediately plastering himself against me, nosing at my throat and hands clinging at my jumper. 

“Ji Ji noona isn’t sharing teddy.” Tearfully pouty as he looks at me, so downcast and sweetly endearing that the tight ball of nerves immediately dissipate, a small laugh bubbling out as I pepper kisses across his cheeks, cooing at him. 

“Did you share your little kitty with her?” I ask, peering over his shoulder at his meticulously made baby nest for his kitten plushy, carefully tucked up under blankets and surrounded on all ends by a fortress of cushions. 

He shakes his head dolefully, worming closer and insistence clear in his wobbly voice. 

“Teddy has to nap with kitty!”  

My lips curl up, pressing to the healthy rounded curve of his cheek. 

“Why don’t you both nap? With teddy and kitty in the middle?” I suggest, watching Ji Ah’s lips quirk up with agreement, clutching her teddy between her grip, eyes brighter than I’ve ever seen them. 

Scrunches her face up, tongue sticking out when Min-Jun turns in my arms; peering back at her as she wriggles, waving the teddy. 

Gesturing silently to him. 

Come here baby bear. 

Watch him linger, curling closer insistently; cheek rubbing against mine, purposely ignoring Ji Ah for favor of scenting me, his scent so easily stabilizing, distress completely vanishing, scent powdery soft once more. 

She pads forward, silent footsteps, face flickering with both amusement and fondness, holding out her beloved teddy. And it brings warmth and want; aching and sweet to see that Min-Jun’s jumper matches the one that the teddy is dressed in, both adorably stretched over rounded tummies. I can’t help but poke, watching him squirm adorably, giggling as he wriggles off my lap just as quickly as he must’ve clambered on, weight flopping onto me. 

“Go nest sweetheart… and maybe Ji Ji will give her baby bear some ear rubs.” I tease sweetly, watching his hand slide into hers and the two of them tug each other closer, silently communicating in a way and level I still don’t understand before simultaneously diving. 

Knocking me back with their combined weight and the surprise tackle, arms curling around them and slumping down against the large mattress with them. 

“Fawn noona nest too!” he insists, Ji Ah nodding along eagerly, eyes sparkling as she tugs at a blanket and haphazardly draws it over me and Min-Jun. 

Trying to cover us up. 

And when she clambers on, silent laughter alit on her face, her weight comes crashing down, suddenly boring down on my lungs and ribs; crushing and overwhelming. 

Far too heavy for her still too thin frame, lungs protesting and hands trying to draw her back from me, body feeling as if it’s caving in on itself, as if I can hear bones splinter, pierce my lungs; breaths punched out. 

And my plea for Ji Ah to get off comes out strangled, her face still beaming and smiling, unaware of the panic that mounts, screams silent as the two of them press closer and the feeling of being suffocated increases. 

A cry finally tearing past my lips, raw and agonized, throat feeling as if it’s been shredded, skin clammy once more as I bolt upright, sheets entangled around me and cheeks damp with sweat or with tears I don’t know. 

Body shuddering at the cold, cold numbness that threatens to settle, disoriented and eyes blinking slowly, trying to dispel dreams and distorted memories, a dull throb at the back of my head, eyes feeling sore as if every tear has been wrung out of me. But when my hands swipe at my cheeks, it’s to see and feel dampness against the pads of my fingers, to see sweat and tears stain them. 

Feel the darkness press close uncomfortably, closing in from each side, battering at skin and threatening to swallow me whole in it. And despite the settled scent of caramel I can feel seeping off Hobi as he sleeps, face pinched and having shuffled close as if he’s sensed the distress… my body still itches to move. Hand smoothening over the furrow in his brows with trembling fingers, lips pressing shakily to his temple and redrawing the blanket over him. 

Why had I dreamt of memories and scenes that were so disconnected from the reality I knew? Why had knowing where Jimin and Joon had been stir up panic and nausea and push me into nightmares? Instincts and biology feeling frazzled and on edge… legs trembling violently as I push the blankets off me, careful to not rouse the sleeping kit beside me, skin pulsing, stretched taut, uncomfortably over flesh and bones. 

Fingers trembling as my lungs shudder, remember the phantom feeling of weight crushing my lungs, tugging at clothes, skin pebbling despite the heat that seeps into every crevice of the room. 

And fall into the welcome escape of shifting, hooves pawing at the blankets before forcing myself up, legs wobbling uncertainly, clambering shakily off the bed and towards the front door. 

Every sense and thought narrows done, needing to leave the room, fumbling and wobbling as I paw at the door, stretched up on hind legs to reach for the handle, scent blooming with upset when it doesn’t give… several tries before it clicks open.  

The dim lights soothe the earlier nausea, of the panic that thrummed through my veins at being completely encased in darkness alone, peering down the hallway and quietly padding down. 

The smell of heavy pheromones are still thick in the air, rich with sharp mint and clogged earthiness saturated with rain, ears flickering and head ducking in unconscious submission to the predatory scents, feeling my legs wobble heavily as a result. 

My nose chases out comfort, lighter scents that promise safety and protection, snuffling against the door, pawing at it. 

Hoof clunking against wood, nervously shuffling, the sound of hooves anxiously pacing carpet muffled from the usual heavier clonks they’d make. 

A small sound of distress, trembly cries at the back of my throat, eyes stinging again when the door is swung open. The blooming gentle scent of citrus curling close and brushing against me in greeting. And soft dark eyes, narrowed feline slits that warm as he sees me. 

Crouching down as he tugs the door open wider, hands incredibly gentle and careful as they brush over my ears and cheeks. 

“Oh sweet girl… my sweet little fawn.” Voice gentle and watching my face tilt to the large sprawl of his palm, nosing at skin, head ducking to rub against his wrist gland. 

I take wobbly steps towards him, crowding the space between his legs, peering up at the sharp eyes that soften, hands brushing over my back, carefully reaching for me. 

The moment he moves to scoop, my legs automatically fold, settled against him as he holds me, straightening up and drawing the door behind him gently. 

“I was going to check up on everyone once I was done… didn’t know you’d come find me.” Murmured softly, lips brushing against my ear. 

I tilt my face up, nose nudging at his jaw, his throat, curling closer and shrinking into the safety of his hold. 

Peer from his arms as he makes the small trek to Joon and Jimin’s room, door opening a slither before he slots his body into the gap, nudging it aside with his shoulder. 

And I feel my body shudder, curling away from the sharp scents despite sleep, faces pinched with pain and unconscious distress. Watch Joon’s body flanked on either side by Tae and Kookie, protectively huddled close and hands almost carefully settled on the wolf between them, avoiding his torso. 

Feel fingers rub at the back of my ears. 

The soft lilt of a voice low and gentle. 

“He’s fine. Let’s go see the other pup.” He whispers, hands carefully keeping me scooped close, drawing the door shut and silently waiting for my nose to emerge from the crook of his arm, peering and blinking in darkness before adjusting. 

Seeing the protective wing flare covering Jimin’s torso, hand slung low across his hips and Jin’s head tucked over his, a cradle that cocoons him, the scent of cotton and vanilla somehow overpowering the sharp mint. 

As if soothed down, grounded, and come to rest. 

As if Jimin is okay. 

“The pups are fine sweet fawn… but something tells me you’re not.” Yoongi says to me once he’s drawn the door shut and slips back into his own room. 

The bed completely bare of the other two felines that usually sprawl over it, their scents sweet and steady because they haven’t entered the room tonight. 

In the safety of mellow calm scents, I peer past the crook of Yoongi’s arm, blinking up at him, ears folding and flickering with silent admission. 

I’m not okay. 

And it terrifies me. 

I’m not okay. 

And the nightmares are slowly creeping back. 

But he senses that, carefully lowering me down and drawing the blankets back to place me on the middle of the bed. 

Leans down to brush his lips across my nose, his own nuzzling close for a bit. 

“I’ll be right back sweetheart.” He promises and I nod, letting my head sink down, curling up as I blink up at him, watch him retreat with his tail curling and swaying quietly and quickly. 

Curl up smaller as I wait, breathing in their scents; a sweet, entangled blend of their pheromones, body settling and falling into greater ease. 

Into the comfort of the soft sheets brushing against folded legs and my drooped head, head tucking into the circle. Folded up and breathing easing. 

Ears perking at the sound of quiet treads, peeking out to see a large lithe figure ambling forward on paws, the soft rumble as Yoongi nudges the door shut and ambles forward, tail curling as he moves forward. 

Clambering onto the bed, mattress sinking and shifting as he pads over to me, flopping down and body curved in a circle, the blankets he drags up with his fangs settling over us. 

Nose nudging at my cheek, the tickle of his tongue laving over my cheek, rumbling deep and low. 

Head tilting to the touch, reaching out to bare my cheek, scent sputtering softer, anise turning lighter as he grooms me, eyes alit and paw reaching out to snag me. 

Bodily draw me closer, turning me over for him as he noses and scents and grooms, the touch both ticklish and distracting, his paw weighted to stop me from moving away. 

Thorough in his scents, in the effort and time he dedicates in drenching me in sweet blooming citrus, curling around my own and nuzzling closer, tail swishing before wrapping around one of my hindlegs. 

Deep content rumbly purrs muffled against me, light fangy scrapes as he paws at the blankets, tugging them closer and curling closer to me. 

You’re not okay and that’s okay his rumbles assure. 

You’re not okay and I’ll be here anyways. 

You’re not okay and I’ll be here through sleepless nights. 

And those final lingering remnants of darkness crowding close, pressing against me and threatening to swallow me whole are chased away by the fluffy, inky fur of Yoongi’s body, tail swishing and poking holes in the dark blanket and wrapping me against him. 

A dark inkiness that snuggles closer, that’s warm and sweet and comes accompanied with deep rumbles that press to me and coax me back to a much more restful sleep. 

Dreaming of nothing but smelling citrus blossoms and the weight of a paw still resting against me. 

------ 

When I wake it isn’t pressed to fur, it’s to skin. And when I wake it isn’t curled up small but tucked against a chest, hand curled over his waist. 

When I wake it’s to the feeling of fingers rubbing at the back of my ears and another cradling the back of my head, arm banded across me, keeping me tucked against him. 

Feel the light nuzzles to my temple, nosing at skin gently, unconsciously perhaps, leg wormed between my own. 

Feel the gentle warmth of his body pressed close to mine… the two of us had unconsciously shifted back at some point in the night. 

And still I feel inexplicably safe, feel my body press closer, ears flickering and folding slightly for his touch. Chasing out the sweet, sleep heavy scent at his gland, mouthing at it lightly, lips pressing to it, staining them with heavy citrus. 

Feel the blankets entangled around our ankles, shifting closer to him, skin pebbling slightly, goosebumps at the brush of air against bare flesh. 

Mumble sluggishly against his skin, body clock already trying to draw me into a state of awareness even if my body sinks drowsily against him. 

“S cold…” 

Feel the small huff exhaled against skin and broad palm skimming across my sides, bringing a trail of heat to seep through. Body slightly tilting away as he moves to get the blankets, fingers tightening on his waist. 

Covered by the blanket that settles over his waist, moving with protest at the lack of blanket of my own. 

“Wait a moment sleepy sweet girl.” He teases gently. 

Feel him rustle before a larger blanket gets drawn over me, fingers brushing back hair, curling around my nape and his other hand tucking it around me. 

Dragging me closer with his arm sprawled over the blanket he wraps me into. 

“Better?” as his hand remains settled against my nape, thumb rubbing slow, thorough circles against my gland, cheek rubbing against mine as he slots closer. 

I nod. Eyes fluttering as my hand wriggles out the burrito swaddle to press against his chest, fingers trailing up to reach for his own gland, lighter circles traced against the small bump of raised skin. 

“Thank you for last night…” I whisper, throat bared as his thumb presses down, triggering a stronger wave of anise, body sinking heavily against him, every inch going loose with contentment. 

“Whatever it is… whatever’s causing sleepless nights… we’re all right here (Y/N).” he promises. 

My fingers still against his gland, settling there as I peer up at him. 

See his gaze earnest and warm focused on me, fangs peeking past soft pink lips. 

“The… the case keeps closing in on us. And everyone I know is getting caught up in it. Getting hurt by being entangled with me.” The truth is painful and a bitter, bitter pill to swallow and right now it lodges itself firmly in my throat. 

But it’s one that has to be said. 

And his arms tighten around me in response. 

“Not true… this is bigger than just you being involved, there’s hundreds of lives ruined and involved… you’re just doing your best for the children in your care.” Voice a low rough murmur. 

Gravelly and hoarse with sleep but firm. 

“But I… I don’t think the clues or hints the police are goaded with are just that. It feels like more… it feels like a noose is closing around my neck Yoongi. And I can’t breathe.” The word shudders out of me. 

Feel his head duck closer, fangs sinking into my throat, at my gland. 

Enough pressure to make my body buck and arch before sagging, boneless against him. 

“Breathe.” Voice steeped with plea. 

Breathe. 

Breathe. 

And I inhale lungfuls of citrus weighted with protection and safety. 

“I know the pack is strong. I know the police are closing in and I know… that you’re taking more burden than you can bear.” 

My eyes flash with distorted nightmares, with the crushing weight bearing down on my lungs. 

With a younger buck holding a younger fawn. 

“It feels like I won’t wake up from a nightmare, that I’ll be stuck there.” 

He growls, a small, rippled sound. 

“Never. I’ll be there to wake you.” 

A promise that seeps into skin just as much as the claim does, gland throbbing under the weighted pin of his fangs even as they retreat, tongue gently laving over it. 

Tail curling around my calf and lips lingering at my throat. 

Breathing in my scent as it settles. 

Even if it feels like past phantoms are turning corporeal once more? 

Even as nightmares are creeping into day? 

His embrace tightens, impossibly closer, blankets separating us but his biology shifting closer to mine, protecting, and guarding, answers for those silent thoughts. 

That the answer will stay a yes. 

JIMIN POV: 

Sleep finds me in sweeping fluttering feathers that graze gently against bare skin, curling over me and settling, Jin hyung’s hands careful as he draws blankets over the two of us, arm slung low across my hip and head tilting to rest against mine. 

Words soothing the anxiousness that silently thrummed in my body since (Y/N) had vanished, hurrying out of the living room with a mixture of crippling nausea and fear, eyes brimming with tears she didn’t dare let spill over, every movement stiff and uncoordinated as if the scent of pain and the sight of our small injuries were physically nauseating her. As if she couldn’t bear to be close to us, couldn’t bear a touch no matter how gentle if it came from either me or Joon. 

Feel it buzzing, dormant but there, an ever-present thrum that’s there as my eyes open, tilting towards Jin hyung, feel his hand tighten on my waist, feathers rustling slightly, eyes fluttering open and quickly shifting into alertness. 

The soft vanilla scent absorbed entirely by the sheets and pillows, still gently brushing against my nose but starkly void from hyung. 

Jin hyung smells like the sheets he too lies in, soft detergent and my own mint that seems to have reached over to sink into his skin. Even his touch, soothing and soft, is drenched in mint, heavy with sleep. 

“What’s wrong pup?” voice a low rough drawl that coaxes my instincts to unconsciously settle, to keen and curl close despite the small worry and anxiousness that begins to gnaw at the pit of my stomach again. 

“(Y/N) … something was wrong… something hurt her last night.” I mumble, peering at him, watch his face flicker with sympathy and pain, see his wings flap before rearing back to tuck securely. 

The air doesn’t have a chance to chill skin, the warmth of his wing remaining and his hand deftly drawing the blanket over me  

“You think seeing two mates coming back battered wouldn’t be enough to have at least one of us panicking?” voice warm and soft. 

I curl deeper in the cocoon of the blanket, weighted quilt drawn more securer over me. 

Remember his hands carefully drawing me away, so easily pinning my thrashing and keening for her, unbuckling in front of the scent, in front of the growls that rippled past my throat and fangs snapping. To say he was unaffected would be a lie because his biology didn’t trigger submission, but his wings has flared with agitation and distress had been in his eyes, bodily tugging me down. 

Hands a mixture of gentleness and firm coaxing authority, nudging me into the shower, his own clothes turning sodden. Drenched and sopping as he washed off lingering remnants of dirt and sweat and dried blood. Only tugging his clothes off when my hands reached for them, anxious that he'd get ill, that despite the warm water, the discomfort was great. And tilting forward to the touch of fingers gently rubbing my ears dry, grooming my tail until it was poofy and gleaming. Soft to the touch.  

Something had settled in his eyes with every gentle touch, with every grooming rub, the nurturing doing wonders to soothe his own frazzled biology. 

I hesitate but the words skip past my lips regardless. 

“But she's… she's seen worse.” I mumble, heart aching at the slight rejection. At the refusal to come closer, so at odds with Tea who'd plastered closer, only separating to cling to Join, hands precariously careful around him. Eyeing his bruised torso with pain and upset and anger. 

“This was more personal pup… you were nearly out of your wits when she was in a car accident. We all were.” He reminds, quietly shushing the distressed keen that slips past my lips. 

And steadily that antsy sensation bubbles hotter until I’m pushing the sheets back, body feeling the slight strain on muscles, a dull throb of that heightened state of awareness trying to calm down. To return to normal. 

“I want to see her.” Feeling his arms wrap around me, moving to face him when a hand coaxes my head to tilt, to bare the curve of my throat and the sharp sting of a bite, skin throbbing and pulsing with the claim as his teeth pinch at my scent gland, tongue flicking against it. Other hand bending across to still the buck of my body, curling closer as I keen. 

A whine slipping past my throat and the instinctual loosening of my muscles, scent softening to even my own nose, mint turning sweeter, lighter. 

Coaxing my scent to settle. 

“Not with that mint you weren’t. You want to see her not make the pack panic.” Jin hyung murmurs, voice a soft deep raspy rumble against skin, lips closing around my gland. The pressure of tongue and teeth as he sucks at the sensitive skin making pheromones roll off in shuddering thin waves. 

“Gonna be a good pup?” he murmurs, fingers gently scratching at the base of my ears, feel them flicker and fold, tilting to the touch as I echo in agreement. 

And his touch only retreats when the small sputter of scent settles, pheromones easily going softer and submitting to the unquestionable authority that Jin hyung exudes, wings settled against his back. 

Eyes warm and gentle as he tilts my face up towards his, fingers trailing soft circles into the pulsing soft throb of my gland, staining his fingers with my scent. 

“Let’s go together.” Hands loosening and falling away to clamber out of bed, but his body remains a silent line of warmth behind me, fingers pressing to the low of my back as we walk across the corridor to her room. 

Door silently opened as I peer in, curiously peering at the huddled lump under the blankets, watching them shuffle slightly. 

Lips quirking at the twirly tips that peek out before Jin hyung huffs fondly, slipping over to tug the blankets away from pink flushed cheeks, from burrowing away, and brushes hair away from hyung’s face. 

Feel my heart skip a beat at the deeper rumbled purr coaxed out, tips folding to chase the touches he unconsciously senses. Watch hyung tuck him back up, lips grazing the curve of his cheek, eyes tinged with fondness of years unreeled between them. 

I ached to have that one day with the pack. 

Knew I would. 

Knew it with a fierce certainty when peering into the other rooms reveals Tae and Kookie curled over Joon, floppy brown ears draped across Joon’s shoulder, head tilted close and sleepy scenting shuffles as he rubs his chin back and forth, eyes fluttering with fatigue, nose twitching as it snuffles at Joon’s cheek.

See the way Tae’s tail had banded across the two of them, as if simultaneously trying to keep both close and safe, protected, and tethered, nose buried against Namjoon’s scent gland, small, rumbled chuffs exhaled against skin. And sandwiched between the two of them, eyes heavy with contentment and a proud smile curling against his lips is Joon. 

Eyes flicking to us as we enter and the tips of his ears perking further. 

Eyes scanning cursorily over the two of us and drifting to my lightly bandaged neck. To avoid irritation or inflammation had my fingers unconsciously clawed at the scratches during the night. 

A soft rumble as Koo shuffles in his sleep, ears draped over a shoulder, head tilting closer. 

Settled. 

All of them are settled. 

But Joon’s eyes hold the same anxiousness when he holds mine. 

“Checking on (Y/N)?” murmured quietly. 

But carries the distance regardless, his head tilting to mine when I move close, lips brushing against my jaw, against discolored skin with a faint growl. Still angry at the bruising. 

Still would be, this anger would stem and direct towards all the people we’d captured, to the ones in separate holding cells- to await the wrath of a wolf when he stepped back into the office, when he bothered giving them the time of day. 

“Make sure she’s okay… something’s bothering her.” He murmurs, quickly surrendering to lying there when Tae grumbles, chuffs pausing to tug closer, to wriggle and worm more firmly against him, leg slung over Joon’s thigh. 

I nod, fingers brushing over the back of ears. 

More and more settled. 

Because most of the pack were accounted for, that restless need to do a headcount, to make sure they were all safe and sound beginning to settle when trudging through the apartment revealed sleepy drowsy mates. 

And finally. 

Finally find her tucked against Yoongi hyung. 

Hear the soft murmurs pause, pale skin stretched out under blankets, slender toned arms and chest coming into view when hyung rolls onto his pack, tugging closer the blanket burrito form with him. 

Sleepy feline eyes softening and a flash of gums as he looks at the two of us. 

“Early riser pup. You do know (Y/N) has no intention of letting either of you head to work without a check-up she’s satisfied with?” he shares indulgently, head tilting to her. 

Watch her eyes settle on me this time, lingering traces of sadness and worry that melt away as she looks at me. 

Scans me slowly. Thoroughly. 

Softens further as she smiles at the swan behind me. 

“He’s right… I want you to get a center check up too.” She mumbles. 

Fidgeting before she tries to draw the blankets away slightly, worms her arms out, bare slender arms that tug at the wrapped cocoon with a wry glance at Yoongi hyung whose chest rumbles with approval. 

Proud to have tucked her up so securely. 

Freed arms held out towards me with silent request. 

And a breath that I’d unconsciously been holding, a deep pressure in my lungs dissipate, contracting with overwhelming relief as I breathe out. 

Hurrying forward towards her, clambering onto the mattress, and delving closer. 

Feel the brush of warm skin against mine as she hugs me. 

Safe. 

Mine. 

Both soft murmurs that my biology settle with. A keening whine muffled embarrassingly against her neck as I bury my face towards the source of sweet, delicate anise. 

“Sorry.” She murmurs against my temple, lips pressing softly to skin. 

Fingers carding through my hair. 

I let my weight sink down slightly, bracketing hers, holding her under me as she holds me closer to her. 

“Sorry I ran. Sorry I couldn’t unfreeze. Sorry Mimi.” 

It’s the first time hearing her call me by that, first time out of a pheromone high or scent drunk, and voice slurred with incoherency and eyes glazed. It’s the first time hearing it, soft and whispered, filled and steeped with apology. 

My nose brushes against her gland, nuzzling into the settled scent. 

The distance had calmed her… whatever had triggered the surge of panic and anger and fear had been soothed away over the night. 

She was fine. 

So I was fine. 

Lips pressing gently to skin. 

“Don’t apologize, must’ve looked a sight.” I wince, head drawn back up, tilting to see her doe eyes peer at me with sorrow, shaking her head, thumb brushing over my brow. 

“As a mate I should’ve comforted you. Instead as a doe I let instincts tell me to run.” Lips turned down, dismayed at her own actions. 

Cheek nudged at by Yoongi hyung’s own, nuzzling close and voice a low reverberating hum that quietens the blame before either of us can try argue it, hand settled over my nape. 

“It’s no-one’s fault. No blame to divide, no blame to feel. How you feel and react is your own right to…” eyes filled with warmth and voice full of sincerity. 

Citrus sweet brushing against my nose, his wrist tilting to me as I tug at it, scenting the small gland with a slow thoroughness, body sinking down to pin (Y/N)’s weight under mine, to keep her tucked and secure. 

Realizing far too late when she sits up that both of them are bare under the blankets, keeping one clutched at the center, hair brushing against her curves until there’s a small sound of amusement and Jin hyung shucks his own shirt off. Nudging me aside to draw it over her, wings curving in a flared embrace and shield as he covers her up, dresses her. 

Looking a mixture of thoroughly pleased at the loose drape of his clothes on her, shoulders slipping and his feathers rippling as he tucks them back, chastisement clear in his eyes as he peers at me with narrowed eyes. 

Warning should I try anything. 

It’s testament in itself how Jin hyung’s lightheartedness keeps the pack from sinking into the same despair and dismay as last night, nudging me back and eyes raking over Yoongi hyung with a voracious gleam of an appetite far greater than the one that sat far dormant in my mind when I’d seen (Y/N). 

A testament to how much his nature and personality stops him from indulging his nurturing need, from fretting and rechecking injuries already treated, flitting about the apartment rousing everyone; returning with a clinging tiger wrapped behind him, with a wolf that steadfastly tries to avoid the dependence until a well-aimed, careful nudge to his uninjured side and a teasing scold of pup has ears drooping and limbs caving, surrendering to his help. 

 Watch him drift in and out, slowly gathering them at the breakfast table, wings fluttering as he reappears with Hobi hyung; tips twirling drowsily, shuffling forward to make a beeline for (Y/N), mumbling that her scent had gone stale from the sheets, grumbling about being abandoned. 

Watch the way he seamlessly draws Kookie into his arms once it’s clear he’s still too drowsy, stumbling unsteadily, bumping into the wall a few times before being scooped; curling close to his mate, ears folding and drooping; snuffling at his cheek in thanks. 

Setting him down next to (Y/N), watch him tilt drowsily to her, curling close again.  

And the sight of the entire pack soothes in a way deeper than anything else could. 

Comfort deep and contentment thrumming through my veins. 

Eyes gleaming with delight at the sleepy huddle of the pack seated at the large table. Wings flared proudly. 

“Breakfast! How do fresh muffins sound?” 

------ 

The angry red have dulled down to a light pinkish red hue. 

They don’t agitate skin and the fading lines remind me of the countless hybrids safely being looked after across hospitals, guarded by police protection. 

They remind me of countless blood debts to pay back, of justice and punishment and for the balance of the world to be righted once more. 

Of the lives of the families to be settled and allowed to heal and grow past the trauma. 

Two days. 

This was the second day of watching the small fox pup and kitten curled together despite the comforting open space of the room. 

Of watching them protectively huddled close, of seeing the small fox pup try shield the kitten within the small, huddled circle her body made it. 

Ears perking and eyes snapping to sharp, razor focus whenever the door opened, whenever someone approached, ears stiff and flickering, chirp low and threatened. 

They’d quietened slightly in the two days I’d spent, long periods of time just leaning against the wall, working through files; trying to get them used to my presence, to stop seeing me as a threat. 

The soft yowls of the kitten muffled by the fluffy coat of the fox that nosed and scented and groomed the slightly younger baby. Hindleg carefully cleaned out and put in a small splint, cast keeping it immobile to stop the pup hurting herself, from tearing the stitches open, to stop sudden movements from causing agitation or distress that could be prevented otherwise. 

Two days, time ticking like sludge and quicksand at the same time, slipping away yet always coming to still within this room. 

As if time was suspended within the space, seeing the same sight as hours ticked by, prickly defensiveness and a guarded wariness in the pup’s eyes that always stopped me from getting closer, from trying to soothe agitated yowls or restless movements. 

Two days. 

And (Y/N) had suggested stopping by, to see if there was anything that could be done to put them more at ease. To try help the two babies she’d heard about. 

My eyes tear away from the sight of them at the soft knock on the door, straightening up from the soft low bed set up in the room. 

Draw it open and see doe eyes crinkle slightly as she smiles at me, ears flickering and arms carrying a tray, warmed milk bottles and a mixture of fruits and soft breads. 

“Hi foxy~” a soft murmur, leaning close to peck my lips lightly, smile quirking against me when I tilt closer, try to reach out for her, to draw her closer. 

Unconsciously chasing for her lips to linger even as she moves back, amusement making her eyes sparkle. 

“Not in front of babies mate mine..” she teases as she moves past me, peering over to see the two babies curled up on a smaller mattress nest of sorts, a mixture of fierce aching protectiveness and curiosity and warmth. 

Her words striking a small keening sound I stifle as I step aside to let her pass. 

Watch as she carefully avoids moving to the nest and invading their space, smiling gently at the dark beady eyes that snap to her and track every step, seem to rake over her with a fiercely scrutinizing intensity, ears flickering and perked up. 

Drifting in and around them but never veering too close. 

Getting the overly alert pup used to her, small, rumbled chirp when (Y/N)’s footsteps make her crane her head to keep tracking her. 

A slightly threatened sound at having someone move so close out of her hindsight. 

“Minnie close the door; I don’t want the room to lose the scents.” She calls over her shoulder as she moves back to the tray, reaching for one bottle and testing the temperature of the milk against her wrist. 

I watch as small beads of milk drip down, streaking against skin before she absently dabs it up with her hem, humming with approval before approaching once more. 

A careful tentativeness as she approaches, her natural softness as a prey already making her much safer in the pup’s eyes, watching as (Y/N) peers, trying to figure out where the kit’s hidden or tucked. 

Smiles when a muffled yowl’s heard and the fluffy tail that’d been draped over the small kit swishes slightly, tiny paws and wriggles before the kit’s face appears, mewling loudly. 

The sound tugging at heartstrings and my lips as I peer fondly at them, still keeping a greater distance than (Y/N). 

Watch as she coos, fingers hovering and watching for an adverse, fretty reaction from the pup before smoothening over rumpled fur and stilling as the kitten laps at her finger, tiny fangs that gnaw slightly before yowling again. 

Blinking sleepily up at (Y/N) who murmurs sweet and gentle to her, quietening and stilling. Paws that’d been sluggishly freeing from fur holding onto her finger. 

Going still at the voice, before she snuffles against it, chasing and seeking something out. 

Searching for the milky scent I realize as she tilts her wrist and the kitten snuffles closer, mewling to be fed. 

“Sweet little kit’s hungry… oh poor baby.” (Y/N) murmurs gently, carefully bringing the teat of the bottle towards the kitten’s awaiting mouth, nudging carefully before she latches on. 

Small ears perking as she feeds, suckling at the teat and enthusiastically feeding, small mewls around the bottle, wriggling under the fluffy tail that drapes like a blanket over her. 

And though the pup doesn’t protest, her eyes remain ever sharp as she watches the younger baby feed, nosing at the kit’s ears, scenting, and grooming with tiny laving licks that lather her in the strong intense scent of sea-salt. Keening warning chirp when (Y/N)’s fingers accidentally ghost along her tail, retreating immediately though it’d been to steady the bottle that wavers at the kits paws that try grab and draw it closer. 

Trying to keep it close despite suckling enthusiastically, yowling, and mewling when it slips from her mouth. 

Fingers brushing against fur to catch stray droplets of milk, letting her lap them back up, small kitten licks to the pads of fingers, restlessly shifting and pawing. Pawing at soft fur, paws struggling to hold the bottle, slipping off it and shifting with hungry mewls.  

Gravitate closer to the sight of the small fox pup nosing at a slightly chipped ear, carefully nudging the kit back with a paw towards the bottle again, chirping quietly. 

A small circle to curve around her, watching (Y/N) intently. 

Still observing every movement until     (Y/N) draws the small bottle back, the pads of her fingers rubbing gently at her tummy, coaxing rumbly purrs and yowls. 

The kitten thrives on the affectionate touch, wide eyes peering up to blink at  (Y/N). There’s a keening want for affection in the soft yowls. A want for attention and focus and (Y/N) indulgently gives, petting lightly. 

And when (Y/N) retreats to head back to the tray, she catches my eyes; reassuring promise in them. 

Sweet, sweet soothing reassurance that tugs me closer. 

“You fret too much sweetheart. Their behavior is perfectly normal given the situation. Healing isn’t a process that kickstarts by taking them away from the location that they were found in.” fingers looping around my wrist to brush her thumb over my gland, lips following. 

Feel my tail swish quicker, back and forth at the gesture, ears perking. 

She might not carry scent at the moment but in that instance she takes on mine. 

Reaching for the bowl of fruit cut up small, of bread that she takes back. 

Kneeling on the floor beside the small mattress, holding out the small baked rolls I recognize as ones from the bakery; watch as she tears off a small chunk and holds it out to the pup this time. 

Nose twitching and snuffling curiously, narrowed eyes as she paws at it with suspicion and wariness in dark eyes. 

Skeptical. 

“She thinks it’s…” I begin, before (Y/N) breaks a piece off from the same bread and chews it herself, motioning for me to do the same. 

And assured, fangs come to scoop the chunk of bread, scarfing it down with an aching ravenous hunger that makes hurt and pain curdle blood. This was a pup barely past weaning age so defensive and apprehensive about the slightest show of comfort or food. 

She’d only known threat and fear and terror. 

She was a baby and all she’d known was not to trust. 

And as she eats it’s clear she’s starving, aching to eat but still she chirps and nudges the small kit to (Y/N)’s stretched palm, paws fumbling for grasp until she scoops them between her fangs and holds them to her mouth. 

Feeding her cubes of fruit and chunks of bread. 

Eyeing the tray with a devastating emotion in dark eyes. 

Survival. 

Food was survival. 

And she didn’t know whether it was a given for her and the younger baby. 

But (Y/N) remains so calm, so at ease despite the prickly behavior, the high walls and guarded defenses, fingers brushing across the back of the kit’s ears and gently at her tummy. 

“You’ll be looked after well sweet babies, I promise. We’ll do everything for kit and for you too. Brave protector fox.” Praising the small pup that stares up at her. 

And then… a small, rumpled chirp. 

Almost as if the honest praise soothes in some way. Or that she echoes in assent, ears folding as she sinks back, tail swishing before draping over the kit again, tucking her up.  

Because protecting her for who knows how long has been exhausting. 

Survival was enduring and exhausting. 

I don’t want to leave, want to stay and make sure the two remain settled, in case they get hungry again or require something. 

But a hand tugs at mine, drawing me away once she’s left the other bowls of food nearby for the fox to reach. 

Tugging me alongside her and gently drawing the door shut behind us once we step out. 

Doe eyes glittering with the ache I feel but promise in them too. 

Reassurance in the brush of her fingers against my wrist, nosing gently at my jaw. 

“Calm down Minnie, your own distress is going to put the babies on edge too. So your emotions play an important role.” She murmurs. 

I nod, tilting close. 

“Instincts aren’t just triggered by scents but behaviors too.” I mumble, hear the small hum as her fingers curve around my nape, foreheads touching. 

“The pup’s more alert and guarded than any baby I’ve ever seen, more wary and on edge. But keeping your wits sharp isn’t detrimental Jiminie—you as an officer know that.” 

I nod. 

Knowing too well that she meant the sharp flintiness in the pup’s eyes, the warning yip when she’d hovered too close to them. 

A fox pup so defensive and alert so young. 

“But you did the biggest job of helping them. You got them out. That’s already made half the difference.” 

Half the difference. 

And the center would help them cross the other half. 

------ 

Jangmi if possible looks more worn out since the last time I saw her. 

Or maybe out of place from her home, she looks more uneasy, more fearful, shadowed eyes and bundled up against the steadily worsening weather. Looking at her now, the bare tips of her fingers peeking out from coat sleeves and bundled away, into the depths of her pockets, and head hunched; she looks wary. 

And the distressed pain in dark brown eyes makes misery curl in my gut. 

But at least… hopefully I’d be able to get rid of the distrust there, her eyes drifting over the center silently. 

“Why did you ask me to come here Officer Park?” voice soft but measured. 

Controlled. 

As if she wouldn’t… couldn’t show more emotion than she needed to. 

Wouldn’t allow weakness to slip into her tone. 

“I asked you for a chance and you gave it to me. I wanted to show you that we’re helping the hybrids from the trafficking case and not endangering them.” I say, ears drooping and folding against the stale, bitter scent of her honey. 

It seemed to have gotten heavier, cloying and clinging to every inch of skin and every fiber of her clothing. 

She nods. 

“Prove to me I can trust you officer and I’ll help with everything I know.” She promises, ears flickering, peeking out through dark hair, bundled back, and stepping into stride with me as I lead the way to Min-Jun and Ji-Ah’s shared room. 

I didn’t know whether Hobi hyung or (Y/N) were going to be with them at the moment or whether they would be with the other children. But I knew their development, their improvement was a testament of their increasing health and recovery. 

The scent of bitter honey permeates skin, chipping at defenses and though her posture suggests anything but weakness, there’s a vulnerability that tugs, draws startled, concerned looks from the staff moving by, hesitating in their steps, reading the stiff body language and the shake of my head, before moving away.  

“Have you been sleeping? You look exhausted Jangmi-ssi.” I observe, almost hesitant to say but she gives an empty laugh, ringing with hollowness. 

“All I do is have nightmares anyways.” 

Coming to a stop outside the room, the officers and in-charge nurse moving aside with recognition, though their eyes flicker with wariness at Jangmi. 

Alert. Just as I’d wanted them to be. 

“She’s with me.” I say, smoothening over the wariness and drawing the door open, jolting when I immediately collide with someone. Hand steadying them, immediately snapping to stop the stumble backwards, eyes crinkling when they meet a familiar pair of doe eyes. 

See amusement curl her lips into a generous, teasing and enticing before concern pools in her eyes. 

“Is there something wrong Min—” 

A startled sharp inhale of breath that has my ears stiffening and perking, tail swishing and body thrumming with anticipation. 

The scent of honey turning thicker, heavy on my tongue and suffocatingly cloying. 

And the air seems to shudder before coming to still. 

Freezing. 

(WELL! FINALLY GOT THE CHAPTER DONE! I WAS SECERTLY WRITING BETWEEN MIDTERMS AND @Midiiplier MY POOR SWEET LOVE, THIS IS ONLY GOING TO COME OUT WHEN YOU’RE FEELING UPTO IT SO I HOPE YOU’RE FEELING MUCH MUCH BETTER AND LOVE YOU SWEETHEART~ AND!! SO MUCH. THE CHAPTER ENDED UP GETTING LONGER THAN PLANNED BUT HOPEFULLY YOU WERE ABLE TO SEE THERE WAS LOTS OF DIFFERENT REACTIONS FOR THE PACK AND NATURALLY… DIFFERENT WAYS TO PROCESS! THINGS ARE GOING TO CONTINUE DEVELOPING IN TERMS OF THE TRAFFICKER PLOT SO EYES PEELED MY LOVES! LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS, TAKE CARE AND ENJOY!!) 

QUESTION…  theories! Cos we’re reaching a peak in the story that I want to see how much you might be close… or far from the PLANS I have for this. 

Borahae! 💜💜💜

PurpleQueenie <3