Doyle: Demented does not own the Secret Saturdays or any one on the show. Everything but the plot of the story and Demented's oc belongs to Jay Stephens.

Demented: you hear that? As much as I would love to own the show and have it come back after all these years, I sadly don't.

Doyle: Can we get a move on with this please? I want it over with.

Demented: the only reason why he's doing this is so he can help me bring back The Secret Saturday's fan base. Also I promised him cookies at the end of each one shot. Anyway, on with the story
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The Secret Saturdays: Blood Tiger Bonds

Doyle Blackwell had absolutely no idea what possessed him to go for a walk, in the woods, in the middle of the night. But he did. He had felt restless in his sleep, dreaming of the same nightmare he had been having for weeks now. Always started and end the same. With him running for his life through the dark forest, being chased by a pack of… he didn't know what. And each time he woke as one would tackle him down and pierce his neck with razor sharp fangs.
The one from tonight was worse than the others. It was the same but it just felt more realistic. He groaned and quickly decided to go for a walk.
Doyle didn't stop to think. He didn't want to, knowing it would take him back to his nightmares. He just changed into the outfit he wore earlier that day and tossed on his boots. He snuck out through his window, not even bringing his jetpack. Only his micro adhesive gloves to crawl out the window with.
Once he reached the ground he began walking in a random direction away from the Saturday's home.

Doyle's paranoia kicked in when he realized he was lost. He had no clue where he was or how far he was from home. It increased dramatically when he heard a growling sound, the same one from his dream. Instead of being crippled with fear like he thought he should have been, adrenaline made his body move. He didn't care where he was going. He only had one thing on his mind, Survive.
Doyle crashed through the underbrush, thorns tearing at his cloths and skin. The growling and snarling became louder as the tangy smell of blood filed the air. It almost sounded like frenzied laughter to Doyle, as if the something was intelligent enough to get a thrill out of a chase. That's when he felt a stinging pain in his right shoulder. He grunted but ignored it, too focused on running. He felt it again in his legs in multiple spots, a stinging pain similar to a jellyfish sting. He still kept moving, even as he felt the sluggish effects of some type of venom.
He felt two more stings in his left shoulder, then the small of his back. He had taken six more shots before one of the somethings finally caught up to him.
With a guttural growl, he felt the full weight of the creature on his back and its claws digging into his skin. The force of the impact sent Doyle and the thing on his back tumbling into a clearing, the Saturday's back yard.
He was pinned by the creature. Its weight wasn't that heavy. He should have been able to throw it off of him had it not been for the venom.
"You're mine human." It said. Wait, said?! It could talk. No, she could talk. Doyle didn't have time to dwell on this as he felt the creature's fangs pierce his neck.
Now Doyle had a high pain tolerance. Hell, he put up with fifteen lashes from a steel tipped bull whip and stayed silent. But he had seen those coming. This, he had no warning, no time to prepare. The fierce burning sensation came on swift wings and gave him no mercy.
No, he did not scream. He just yelled in a very high pitched voice. But the fact remains that he did make some kind of loud noise before passing out.

I heard people call my name. The voices were distant but grew louder as I was pulled from the darkness.
"Doyle? Hey, can you hear me?"
"He doesn't look so good mom."
"I think he's coming too."
"Doyle?"
I opened my eyes and was blinded by the light in the medical area. My vision swirled for a moment before fixing itself. I saw the worried faces of my family. Zak, Zon and Fisk were on my right while Drew was on my left. They all looked relieved to see me awake. I was happy to be alive too but the only thing I could think about was my thirst. My mouth and my throat was dry and tasted bad.
"W-water" I struggled to say. Zak quickly scurried off to get a glass of water. When he came back with one I attempted to reach for it but found I could barely wiggle my fingers. Drew took the glass from Zak and slipped her right arm under my pillow. Carefully she lifted my head to the glass and allowed me to drink. After a few sips she took it away to let me breathe.
"Do you need any more?" she asked kindly. I slightly shook my head no. She put the glass on the counter behind her and gently lay my head back.
My eyes were heavy. I wanted to stay awake but my mind had other ideas. Drew gently placed a reassuring had on my cheek as if understanding my wants.
"Go ahead and sleep Doyle. It will help you get on your feet faster." She said softly. I nodded slightly and closed my eyes. Sleep came quickly as I fell back into that peaceful darkness.

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"Sanguinem Tigris. The blood tiger or, as it was named by the Native Americans, Bad Luck Tiger." Exclaimed Doc as he walked through the door. Every one turned and shushed him, pointing at the sleeping ex mercenary. "Sorry" he whispered. He notioned for them to follow him out to the hall.
Zon and Fisk stayed behind to keep an eye on Doyle while Zak and Drew went out to the hall.
"Are you sure it's a blood tiger Doc? I mean they haven't been seen in almost 200 years." Asked Drew
"What else do you know that's a maroon color and shoots paralytic venom spines?"
"Ok fine point taken but let's say it is Blood Tiger venom. What's the antidote?"
"Well, by looking at Native American art I'd say the antidote is time. That is also what I'm seeing with colonial reports."
"Mom, what is a Blood Tiger?" asked Zak (cue exposition)
"Well a Blood Tiger was once, what you would call, an Apex Predator. Blood Tigers were the top of the food chain for thousands of years. They were fast, strong and above all, very intelligent. The main reason why they survived until the 1800s was because they were smart. They were hunted to extinction by humans the last one was seen alive in 1816. It was never shot so we just assumed it died of old age." Explained Drew.
"Apparently we assumed wrong." Said Doc as he held out the spines. Zak carefully took one of the spines from his father's hand and examined it. It was a deep maroon. The bottom end was flat and at an angle from where loose muscle was once attached to it. It was as long as his forearm and ended at a needle-like point. Zak went to touch the sharp end but the spine was plucked from his fingers before he could.
"I wouldn't go poking at it Zak. There might still be some venom left." His mom cautioned. She gave the spine back to Doc who put it in a glass jar with the rest.
"He is going to be ok, right mom?"
"Well, other than being very weak for a while, he'll be fine."
"Even so," Doc cut in "I would like to take few blood samples from him to see how much the venom has depleted. There was enough venom in these spines to take down a rampaging hippo."
"Alright, but after he wakes up ok."
Doc nodded and walked towards the lab where he would farther analyze the venom.

Doyle woke up sometime late in the night and with his consent, Doc took a small vial of his blood. He was able to lift his head now and slightly move his left arm but everything else was only a twitch here or there. He was still really tired but he had no desire to sleep anymore. He spent most of the time talking with Zak and denying that he was taken down by surprise. Very slowly Doyle gained the feeling back in his body and made progress with movement.
For the first time in forever, (No quoting frozen. I will block your comment) Doyle felt helpless. He needed help with everything. Eating, drinking, and even going to the bathroom much to his embarrassment. The moment he was able to pick up a spoon or a glass of water on his own, he denied most help from his family. It's not that he is ungrateful, far from it. He is glad to have people take care of him in his time of need, but he despises feeling helpless.
Every few hours, Doc took a small vial of blood from him to monitor the venom levels in his system. He was happy to find the venom depleting from Doyle's system at a steady rate. But as the Venom depleted, Doc noticed a strange anomaly in Doyle's blood. He dismissed it at first, but as he took more vials, he found that whatever the anomaly was, wasn't going away. In fact, it stayed at the same levels throughout each test. Doc's eyes widened when he theorized what it was, he could only hope he was wrong. If he was right, Doyle's life is about to get turned upside down for the second time.

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Demented: there, first parts done. here's your cookie. *gives Doyle a cookie*

Doyle: awesome