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“ H elp… Please…”

Gavin grimaced as he continued to listen to the soft, calming voice call out. What the hell were the police doing?! So fucking slow…

Growling under his breath, he eyed the large window for a moment more before leaping with one arm in front of him. Scales slid from his skin just before he made contact. The thick glass shattered almost too easily, the shards crunching under his feet as he landed lightly inside.

The voice that had been calling out went silent then for just a moment, no doubt in concern at the noise.

“Hello—” The human’s hesitant question was cut off by a coughing fit that sounded like the man had inhaled too much smoke.

He eyed the room, glancing over at the sturdy looking desk with a few knocked over knick-knacks on top, and an executive style office chair behind it. All around the room were toppled over boxes, their contents scattered on the floor. Most notable was the overturned bookshelf near the left wall that had come down with part of the ceiling. The top was tilted up and leaning on the desk, looking to have taken a nice gouge out of it.

Breathing in deeply, his nose wrinkled when he caught the acrid scent of stomach acid amongst the smell of smoke and blood. But underneath was this muskiness, like the voice it reminded him of the ocean, specifically a salty breeze.

Walking further in, he paused near the desk briefly, not hesitating to swipe and pocket the small and very shiny golden hedgehog paperweight sitting near the edge. Just past the desk, surrounded by moving boxes, he found the human he’d come in to find.

Gavin slowly took the man in. The human’s eyes were closed, a very swollen bump and bleeding gash above his right eye. The blood from it had dripped down covering one lid, before continuing on to his chin. But beyond that, the man looked fine… Really fine… Damn fine.

Based on the lines near the human’s eyes, along with his short styled blond hair being white near his temples, Gavin was going to guess the mystery man was in his forties.

Yes, forties, and he looked to be taller than him, yet not as bulky. But holy shit, the human was gorgeous, with his sculpted square jaw, high cheekbones, and beige-colored skin that was admittedly a bit too pale at the moment.

Well, well, I’ve found a bit of treasure in this burning heap , he thought with a smile, but it dropped as he eyed the blood again.

The head wound was concerning though. Gavin’s frown deepened when he crouched by the man’s side and the human’s lids opened. The man’s right eye was fucked up…what should be white was blood red. It didn’t look like it was coated, but as if blood had collected inside the eye itself.

The man swallowed before clearing his throat. “Hello…”

Gavin smiled when once again the man’s voice scratched some deep itch inside him, as if the human was just begging to be kept.

“Hello there. I’m Gavin. You seem to be in a spot of trouble. Who might you be, and does anything else hurt aside from your head?”

The man took a shuddered breath. “Wes B. Ackerman, and ah—no… I mean…nothing else hurts, but I believe I need a…a doctor!” Wes blinked. “I-I am a doctor. No—I need a doctor. But I…am one… I can’t—” The man swallowed. “—see out of my right eye. I tried to stand, but I got dizzy.”

Wes’ brow pulled fiercely, as he was obviously struggling to think clearly. Which wasn’t good.

Gavin’s gaze flicked to the door, there was a beam in front of it. Listening closely, he heard people trying to move things from the other side, which explained why it was taking so long.

Gavin eyed Wes for a brief moment more, before making a decision when he heard what he assumed was ambulances approaching. “Excuse me,” he murmured while scooping the man up.

Wes gasped, eyes wide as he flailed slightly. Almost instantly the human started to gag, before dry heaving, no doubt due to him being moved abruptly.

“Sorry, but I think it’s best we get you out of here sooner rather than later.”

“Thank you…” the man said softly after the gagging fit ended.

Gavin smiled when one of Wes’ hands lightly grabbed onto his shirt as he carried the human through the broken window.

“Help…” Jerry Larson rasped almost absently, his voice barely above a whisper.

Staring at the ceiling above, he tried to remember what time it had been before the explosions and fire. There was a clock on the wall above his desk, if he could just remember… Wait…was the clock still there? Was his desk?

He frowned. Was the ceiling sloping down further? It looked lower…or maybe it didn’t. Maybe it hadn’t moved at all. But sloping was better than falling. The small spot was really the only part left that hadn’t done that.

His brow pinched as he heard this clicking sound. It was…odd…

Jerry blinked—ah, it was his teeth. He tried to stop them from chattering, but found he couldn’t. It was just so…cold. Jerry knew that he needed to move, but…he also knew that he couldn’t. Something…was… Something was pinning him down.

Jerry could have sworn he had realized what it was, but now, for some reason…he couldn’t remember. He knew he could look and see it again, but what would be the point ?

Whatever it was, he couldn’t move, even if he felt too much pain. At least, he had felt too much pain. Now Jerry was just mostly cold… He felt so cold.

The pain, which had been sharp at first, had dulled along with his strength during the time he’d laid there. Jerry again wasn’t sure how long it had been, but he knew the numbness starting to form wasn’t a good thing. He didn’t want the pain either, but he’d watched enough TV to know numbness was never good.

Jerry flinched at the sound of screeching metal, and a deep voice cursing.

“Help!” he whimpered, his voice again barely audible to his own ears.

Then, suddenly, he wasn’t alone. Jerry stared up at the freckled face of a very large, muscular man, who appeared to have to hunch to even fit in the mostly collapsed room.

The man was handsome, with a strong jaw and somewhat angular face, along with a rather cute button nose. That was an odd thought to have when trapped beneath…whatever the heck he was under.

The stranger frowned, swearing, “Shit,” as he crouched by him. “Hi there, little one. I’m Zane, what’s your name?”

One of the man’s large hands ran over his hair—at least, it felt large.

Wait—little? No one had ever called him little before.

Swallowing, Jerry licked his dry lips, and stuttered due to the cold. “Je-Jerry. C-can you…h-help me?” He swallowed again. “I’m pinned. My…my right leg, it’s in agony.”

At least…it had been. Had he been burned… He couldn’t remember, his head felt too fuzzy.

Zane Bradly eyed the man, his nose telling him all he needed to know, even if he couldn’t see everything that was going on .

Flat on his back, the human’s body was hidden from just below his waist by the vending machine on top of him.

His heart was beating slower than it should be, and Jerry’s breathing was a bit ragged. His teeth seemed to click together as he trembled, but it all fit with how pale he currently looked. With slightly rounded cheeks, a square-ish chin, pert nose, plush lips, and a beautiful pair of dark-brown eyes—that worryingly looked out of focus—Jerry was rather…cute. The human also smelled sugary sweet. Or rather, just like sugar.

Not so cute or sweet was the trail of blood that started at the hairline of the man’s short styled black hair and trickled over his right cheek. It still looked and smelled fresh. But the little that was visible was not the main source of the heavy scent of blood in the room. That would be the puddle forming underneath Jerry, seeping out around the vending machine.

The same blood was noticeably, even now, soaking further into the human’s white daisy-covered button-down. The thick coppery scent that was ingrained with the man’s natural sweetness was what had drawn him into the room. Well, that and the soft pleas for help.

Zane eyed the man for a second longer before deciding he needed to see more. As much as what he could see and smell told him, he needed to know exactly how bad it was. Something he couldn’t do from this side, as what looked like a metal sheet was embedded in the floor, flush against the vending machine.

Glancing around as he straightened up as much as he could, he noted that the small, pocket-sized area that Jerry was collapsed in was pretty much all the open space left. The rest was destroyed by a questionable number of cement beams and wreckage.

There were just piles of shit cocooning the man in. The human had been lucky as hell that there had even been a path to get to him at all. He peeked over, relieved to see that there was space on the other side of the man. It looked small, but he should be able to fit enough to take a small peek.

Glancing down, he smiled hesitantly at the human whose heart had sped up on him standing. “Don’t freak out if I move out of sight,” he murmured softly. “I’m not going anywhere. I just want to take a look at what’s going on under there. ”

“O-okay,” Jerry rasped, his breathing now shallower than when Zane had first come in.

Hunched, he carefully stepped over Jerry’s head to his right side. After scrunching down, he tried to slide into the small space he’d assumed he would fit in, but Zane quickly found he had once again misjudged how well his overly muscular, giant dumb ass would fit into a tiny ass space.

Zane grunted as he wiggled himself into the spot beside the man, sighing in relief when he finally managed to wedge himself down far enough to look underneath. But that relief was short lived, ending when he turned his head and finally saw what was going on under the vending machine.

He clenched his jaw shut, holding back the cursing he wanted to do as he eyed Jerry’s right leg. Or rather, what was left of it. The human had to have been hit directly by one of the smaller blasts. In a mass of blood, burnt flesh, exposed bone and muscle, Jerry’s right leg was gone from the knee down, and what was left of the man’s fibula and tibia pointed out jaggedly.

Even if the time for it to be reconnected hadn’t long passed…the damage would have ensured there would be no hope of that. Not that he knew where the other part of Jerry’s right leg was.

His gaze trailed upward, his brow rising slightly on realizing the vending machine wasn’t actually lying flat on top of the man, but was tilted up slightly and to the right. In fact, while there likely was weight pressing down on the human’s other leg, most of it appeared to be converging on a single area. That single area being Jerry’s right thigh.

Holy shit, the man was a lucky son of a bitch. Had it come down flat, or…tilted the other way…

Zane shook the thought from his head. No point thinking about that now. The man wasn’t out of the woods yet. Zane could smell it clearly—death.

The smell of death clung to the man, drawing closer by the second. The thing pinning him down had given him time, but that wouldn't last much longer. Jerry was clearly at risk of bleeding out, even if it was slowly. Even worse, all it would take was the human panicking, and trying to move, to end it before he could help .

Dragging himself out of the spot he’d squished into, Zane quickly moved back to the other side, where he was able to ‘comfortably’ kneel by Jerry’s head.

Smiling carefully as he looked down at the human’s sweet face, Zane grabbed the man’s nearest hand, lightly squeezing as he took it.

“Jerry, I need you to remain calm, okay?”

His words had the opposite effect. The man’s face crumbled, his wide eyes filling with tears as his heartbeat started to race. “O-oh, God, w-what is it? That’s a ‘I have b-bad news’ tone.”

Zane grimaced. Well, that sure as shit had not worked well. Fuck… He supposed honesty was the best policy.

His smile strained as he gently ran his other hand over the man’s short black hair. “I’m not going to lie to you. It’s not good, Jerry. But I can promise you that this isn’t the end. You have a chance to get out of here.”

His smile dropped when his words caused the human’s heart to speed up further.

“T-tell me.”

Zane cleared his throat. “First, whatever you do, don't try to move. Promise me now that you won’t.”

Jerry nodded as a tear trailed down his face. “P-promise.”

“Okay…the bad news first.” He took a deep breath and just blurted it all out, not stopping until he finished, even when he heard the human’s heart rate soar and his panic grow. “Your right leg is missing from just past the knee down. I can tell you now, there is no saving it. The damage is too great, even if time wasn’t a factor. The only reason you haven’t bled out yet is because the vending machine managed to fall on you just right, and it’s partly cutting off the blood flow.”

“N-no, no, no, no…” Jerry started to sob.

“Jerry, I know this is hard, and I know you are scared, but we don’t have time to waste. I had to bend metal and crawl through to get in here to you. Help is coming, but it won’t make it in time. Even if it does, they won’t be able to get you out of here before it’s too late. While being pinned has slowed the bleeding down, you are still bleeding.”

“Oh, God—Oh, God! ”

When the man’s gaze got this far off look, Zane cupped one of his rounded cheeks, trying to get him to focus back on him.

“You have to stay focused, little one. You have to listen to me. We don’t have time, and you have a choice to make.”

The human’s fearful crying stopped on hearing his words. Jerry was now staring up at him, his eyes searching and more focused than they had been since he’d found him. But then they were currently in a Hunters Guild, or what was left of one at least, so the man had to know the implications.

“What are you?” Jerry rasped softly.

His stomach fluttered nervously at the question, despite his old ass age. Why did revealing what he was to new people always have to feel like he was coming out of the closet…again?—Ugh.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, he stated, “I’m a werewolf.”

Mmm, yeah, that sounded just as cheesily bad, horror movie-like as it always did.

Jerry whimpered. “It would be too dangerous. I-I’d hurt people.” Zane’s body started to stiffen in anger at what he thought was an insinuation that werewolves were monsters, but then the man added, “Newly changed w-werewolves can’t control th-themselves.”

His shoulders relaxed as the anger whooshed out of him. Ahh…he was dying and the man was still thinking of others. What a cutie.

Zane gave Jerry’s hand a squeeze. “Jerry, I’ll keep you.” He blinked, almost baffled at what he’d just said, before quickly correcting himself. “I mean, I’ll keep you under control. You won’t hurt anyone.”

“P-promise?” the human asked.

“I promise.”

The man sniffled. “Y-you won’t leave me alone?”

“Not even for a second, sweetheart.”

Jerry’s face crumbled, and he nodded slightly as he sobbed, “Pl-please—Please, I d-don’t want to d-die.”

“I need you to say it clearly. Jerry, what’s your last name?”

“La-Larson,” the human stuttered.

“Jerry Larson, will you let me change you into a werewolf?”

“Yes…”