A few items of business to take care of before we get into the story:

1. This story will be written by three different people with three very different characters and writing styles. This means updates will be infrequent! Please bear with us as this story has not been written beforehand and only tentative plans have been hashed out.

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5. Disclaimer: We, the authors, do solemnly swear we are up to no- wait... Sorry, that's the wrong disclaimer. *shuffles around and picks up a paper* Here we go. We do not own The Phantom of the Opera, Love Never Dies, Twilight, TruBlood, The Southern Vampire Mysteries, or any other fandom which seems familiar. These are the property of their respective owners and we earn no money from the events written herein. Boo. We do own the plot idea and any characters not cannon to a recognized fandom.

Now, on with the show!

Gustov,

It's been horrible here since you left. Cor's been trying her best but... an imprint's wife is no substitute for an imprint. She finally brought in help which is why I'm writing to you. Father thinks it will help calm the 'beast inside'. Whatever. I have to be careful what I write so I guess I'll just have to write things that are common knowledge, huh? You know I'm from Shreveport, but I wasn't born there. I've only lived there for about half my life. Originally I'm from Missouri- St. Louis in fact. Both of my parents were Weres. I'm told my mother was a Werehyena, but this wasn't from Dad and I've never met her, so I don't know how true it is. My Dad, on the other hand was a Werewolf. He was pretty high up in our- his- pack hierarchy, so I was pretty firmly entrenched in St Louis' supernatural community.

It's tough growing up surrounded by werewolves and not being one yourself. I love how I grew up, don't get me wrong, but I lived in constant danger that I would be bitten. At the same time, I always felt perfectly safe. I knew I was loved and wanted. I was a teenager and I still believed that most families were full of love. I found out that month how wrong I was. I was sixteen years old when I was first told of the young boy Peter had bitten- the boy who would later become my best friend and confidant...

0o0o0o0

Most of the wolves gathered during the new moon once a month at the house for cookout or other event, including those who were unable (or did not wish) to attend a Gathering. My father believed it increased morale among the Pack and for the most part he was right because it gave all of the wolves a sense of belonging to something bigger than them. Usually that was the only time I saw most of the Pack. However, if something goes wrong, members of the Pack are required to report to the Lukoi, the Pack Leader, who just so happened to be my father. Peter was one of the wolves who preferred waking in the comfort of their own homes rather than on the cold ground of the forest, so it was unusual to see him at the house only a few days after the night of a Gathering.

I was sitting in the living room watching tv with my Dad when the knock came on the door. He rose to answer it and, when he didn't come back for a time, I rose from the couch an moved close enough to hear who it was but stayed out of sight. I was surprised to see Peter at first but soon my curiosity got the better of me and I listened in on their conversation.

"Peter, the only reason I allow any of the wolves to stay at home is because they can handle the situation. How did this happen?" Dad asked.

Peter wrung his hands. "I don't know. I guess the lock on the cage I have broke during the night. I don't remember much. This month was particularly painful."

"If it's that bad, then why do you insist on staying from the Pack?" Dad growled harshly. When Peter hung his head, I knew there was more to the situation than an escaped wolf on the full moon. "Was anyone hurt?" Peter hung his head and I knew I was right.

""This morning... I could taste blood... I-"

I jumped when Dad shoved him into the door and held him there. "Who?"

"I don't know," Peter whimpered. "After telling you I was going to go to the hospital and see if anyone had been admitted for animal bites. There was no other blood so I assume it was only a bite."

Dad growled lowly, "You will find them and tell them. Bring them here if you have to. Your mistake, your responsibility." Dad let him go when Peter whimpered and leaned his head back. As he went to leave, Dad added, "From now on, your shifts will be done in the presence of the Pack." Peter nodded quickly shut the door behind him.

A few days later saw me listening to a hushed conversation from the hallway again as Peter showed up empty-handed- only a name discovered. Jason Schuyler.

It took another two and a half weeks to track down said person. Dad was furious when he found out Jason was a thirteen year old kid.

Jason came from a broken home. His mother was and alcoholic and his father was a workaholic. All the money his father brought home went toward paying bills and his mother's addiction. Jason was in a bit of a pickle when I met him three days after Dad and Peter went to explain what happened. Didn't know it was him though.

I had to go into town to buy groceries after the New Moon Social because, like normal, the Pack had cleaned out the pantry. I had my cart full and was heading to the checkout line. There was a young kid in front of me and at first I just thought 'he must be here to run an errand for his mom, how sweet.' But then I noticed he was dirty and his clothes seemed to have been worn for several days straight. He was trying to buy a jug of water and a loaf of bread with a five dollar bill. The cashier refused to take it because the total was over six. The kid begged and begged until I laid a hand on his arm.

"Add it to mine." I told the cashier who looked at me before shrugging and ringing up my food as well. When the kid went to grab his two bags and bolt, I tightened my grip on his arm. "I'm only one person and I've got an awful lot of groceries here...think you can help me get them home?" I asked him. His answer was only a nod but he did seem to calm after that. He helped me get the groceries into my car, only put up a token resistance when I told him to climb into the passenger seat, and helped me unload the car.

An hour and a half later, I had gotten us home, the groceries put away, and finished cooking dinner. Jason had been surprisingly helpful with the lifting and carting and I insisted he stay for dinner in payment. Again he was reluctant, but I won out. Well, I think it was more his stomach won out- while cooking dinner I could hear his stomach growling in the next room. After dinner we had just settled down when the front door opened telling me Dad was home. "In the living room with a friend, Dad! Dinner's on the stove for you!" I called out to him. I heard him move to the kitchen an rummage for some silverware in a drawer before moving toward the living room to join us. I greeted him from the couch where I was sitting but did no more as I felt Jason tense beside me. "Hey," I started, trying to calm him, "It's just my-"

"Jason? What are you doing here?" I heard my Dad say from behind me. I quickly looked between the two startled. I remember have a sudden flash of understanding and then thinking to myself, 'This is the kid that Peter bit?'

Jason, by this time, was almost shivering in fear. His eyes were closed, his head was bowed, and I would have bet money that, if he hadn't been holding his dish from dessert, he would have been cringing as if someone was going to hit him. I knew these were not good signs. Dad did too, it was the main reason he had the rule in place about not biting children. "Why are you here Jason?" Dad asked again, softer. "What happened?"

Jason was silent for a long time. Finally he started, "Af-after you and, uh, Peter left, M-mom, well, Mom w-went a little nu-uts." I watched Dad as he strode across the room to kneel in front of us. I had a nasty suspicion what had happened and hoped to the Peytabees I was wrong. Under my Dad's caring gaze, Jason continued with slightly more confidence. "I-I've always been known as a... a dreamer. I was always the p-person who had my mind elsewhere when I should have, um, been focusing on what I was doing. M-most times, my mind was focused on the supernatural. It was s-something my Dad encouraged but my Mom, uh, tried to stamp out. Mom th-thought that anything dealing with ghosts or magic was evil. She, uh, she thought that you and, um, Peter were some guys I had started hanging with and were dragging me down the dark side. I g-guess it was the last straw or s-something. T-that night, she kicked me out. S-aid she didn't want a witch's consort in her house- that if I ever wanted to come home, I had better purge the evil out of me and even then think thrice."

So I was half-right. Dad and I exchanged a glance and I hoped even harder I was wrong about the next part. "Jason, did your mother ever... hit you?" Dad asked softly.

As soon as the question was out of Dad's mouth, Jason's head shot up. "No!" He shook his head with a furious earnestness that told us both he wasn't lying. I breathed a sigh of relief, I was wrong about that part. Physical abuse is most common with that kind of environment, and sometimes the most damaging.

Dad and I exchanged a glance, Dad's filled with an understanding sorrow, mine pleading with him. After a long moment, Dad nodded in response to my silent question. "Jason, do you want to stay here with us? It will at least be a place to stay until-"

Jason backpedaled, "I wouldn't want to be a bother."

I finally spoke up to this. There wasn't a snowball's chance in hell that I was going to make my new-found friend live on the streets like had had been for the past three days apparently. "Jason, its not a bother. Heck, I was running way late today and if I hadn't convinced you to help me out, there's no way I would have been able to get all of the groceries home, put away, and had dinner ready for Dad, not to mentioned having already eaten. That's a big help for me. And I know I could use that same sort of help int he future." I saw his indecision and decided to try a slightly different tactic. "Here's a hint- Peter and Dad told what that bite you got meant, right?" At his nod I continued. "I'm not a wolf. I'm not even a were. I am one hundred percent human and I was born that way. That means that I can't do the things weres can. And Dad's usually too tired to help me when he gets home from work and dealing with pack business." At this point Dad had caught on to what I meant and took up my argument.

"She's right. There's plenty here that she would need the strength of a were to fix, move, arrange, what-have-you. I also hate leaving her here alone. You wouldn't be a burden because you would be a member of this pack and that means you'd become family. It would mean a lot to us if you'd let us help you."

Jason glanced back and forth between Dad and me. He was still waring an internal debate with himself but we could tell the urge to be off the streets and out of the weather was winning. Finally, he nodded, "Okay...thanks".

The days after that passed relatively quietly. Jason stayed in the house most of the time but was a help with things around the house- I was finally able to rearrange two of the five rooms I had been wanting to for several months now. Before either of us realized, the two weeks until the full moon had flown by. Because I was human, I was only allowed the stories of his adventures during this time. It would have been too dangerous for me to be near the pack and thus my full moons consisted of me being home alone, laying on the couch watching t.v. and waiting, quite impatiently, for the sun to rise (though I usually fell asleep long before the sky started to change colors). But this full moon was too nerve-wracking for me to do much that was useful.

Finally, as the sun was brushing the top of the trees surrounding the house, Dad walked in carrying Jason. While Dad looked no worse for wear, Jason looked horrible. There were scratches and bruises covering his body, not only form the transformation but also the fights for dominance I'm told happen during the acceptance of a new member of the pack. Dad told me later, after Jason had been laid in bed, that it was always hard to watch his pack change for the full moon but that night had been more difficult because he had to watch a child change for the first time. "That boy is remarkable." He told me. "He's is a submissive in the pack but through everything, he didn't call out. Not even once. Your friend up there is strong and determined. But I have a feeling he will need you now more than before, if what I suspect of his home life is true. Because I am the alpha and head of the pack, he won't accept comfort from me, but you he will see as something he once was and as a connection to that. I hate to put this responsibility on you, but take care of him, alright? I have a feeling he will be very important in the future." I nodded and remember thinking, 'there's no way I'm going to abandon him now.'

I'm glad Dad gave me that warning. The next night, Dad had to work late and I was just barely drifting off to sleep, when suddenly I bolted upright to a high-pitched bellow. I scrambled out of bed and scampered down the hall to Jason's room. I almost panicked when I saw that his bed was empty, but calmed when I heard whimpers from the other side of the room. He had woken, finally, and fell off the side of the bed. I called out to him as I tried to maneuver myself around the bed. "Jason, are you alright?"

"Don't." He whimpered, curling in on himself, and I stopped. "Don't come near me! I'm a monster."

The way he said it cut me to the core. I had seen others have problems accepting their wolves after the first change, but never had I seen a reaction like this. "But you're not, Jason. You're not a monster."

"Yes, I am. I have this secret side that I can't let anyone see because I can't control it."

"Jason, you're not supposed to control it. You have to accept that it's a part of you now." I hoped he didn't ask me why, because I honestly didn't know. It's one thing to know what to say because others have told you- totally different if you've experienced it yourself.

"I can't, Art." He whimpered again. I could hear him crying as he went on. "There's this... thing inside of me, just beneath my skin... it's going to tear me up... break me down... I'll become a monster, just like it. And then no one will be able to love me. I'll be alone."

I understood at that part. For normal people, dreaming's all well and good because its not real. But the moment the line between reality and dreams blurred, a person has to fall back on what they know to be true- and Jason knew were's to be evil, to be monsters. It's a common misconception. I knew then what I had to do and moved quickly to kneel in front of him. "Jason, look at me." When he obeyed, I continued, "I told you before, I am one hundred percent human. Yet, all of the people I consider family are weres. All of them have a beast inside of them, just like you, I promise you, not one of them is a monster. From today one, I can also promise you this- your mother may have abandoned you, and you may have had to live alone on the streets for a while, but from this day forward, you have become part of a large extended family that will always take care of you." I swooped in to hug him as I saw him relax slightly. "I promise you Jason, this is the last night you spend alone."

0o0o0o0

Jason and I have been family ever since. Even when my Dad was killed in a pack dual a year later and I had to move to Shreveport to live with my Dad's sister and become what I was for the years before I met Long Shadow, Jason and I still kept in touch. To this day he keeps me updated on pack happenings and even things that happen outside of the pack but influence St. Louis' supernatural population.

I best wrap this letter up. I've been sitting here for hours and I think Mum's getting worried. Stay safe, Gustov. I don't know what would happen if- nevermind. Just come home safe...please.

Artimus de la Lune

Wow! That is officially the longest chapter I have ever written. And it only took...how many days to write? To my regulars, I know I have a lot of other stories up but this is a story I've been tossing back and forth with a friend and I won't be the only person writing it.

Until we meet again,

Agon Dy