One of my many, many AUs that spawned a while back, this sat for months before I got suddenly inspired this weekend to finish up chapter one. I make no promises on update schedule with this story. Dragon Eclipse remains my priority, but sometimes the plunnies just... don't let go. So. Have the first chapter of this werewolf au.

The basic premise is that all Quincy are dormant werewolves, and losing their powers but still trying to reach for those powers triggers the lycanthropy into becoming active. There's no ability to transmit lycanthropy to anyone, you have to be born with it to become one. Also I did a LOT of research on Actual Wolf Behavior for this, so... expect a fair number of werewolf tropes to just... not exist here. I'm bored of them.

(For more information on this AU, and others, head over to my tumblr and do a search for "werewolf au". My tumblr name is the same as my penname here.)

Uryuu crept deeper into the tangled forest outside of Karakura, senses on high alert and body tensed, his nails digging deeply into the strap of his satchel to keep his hands from shaking. The full moon hung overhead, luminous and large, a heavy contrast to the thick shadows that distorted the forest ahead of him. His mind was free to fill the shadows with looming threats and darting forms—

(So different from the bright, empty wasteland of Hueco Mundo. Where there was nothing to fear until suddenly there was everything to fear.)

—and Uryuu had to keep himself from jumping at every whisper of wind and creak of wood. Had to keep his steps steady and his breathing even, even as his heart hammered in his chest and his brain was drowning in information.

The forest sang with a cacophony of chaotic power, drowning out all sense of the tame Karakura behind him. The power twisted and coiled about his body, snarling, demanding his attention.

He felt blind.

He felt like he could see everything.

A wolf howled in the distance, high and thin and long. Uryuu stopped in his tracks, jaw clenching against the visceral fear that coursed through his body at the sound.

(Against the visceral need to howl back.)

(That howl was so lonely, so desperate. It cut Uryuu to the quick, to hear and not respond.)

He took a deep breath and then released it, slow and steady, grounding his nerves and beating back the howl that was clawing its way up his throat. The scent of the forest flooded through him, cataloged and dismissed until he found the scent he was searching for: the unique mixture of soap-antiseptic-asphalt-fur that he had tracked through Karakura and to this wild preserve. The track led deeper into the forest, deeper into the darkness that his human eyes couldn't penetrate.

He needed to enter that darkness, needed to walk beyond the dimly lit verge he was currently hesitating in, needed to walk into the depths of the chaotic power.

Was he the man who had followed Kurosaki into Hueco Mundo or not?

Uryuu reached up to slip his glasses off, then folded them up and tucked them away in a pocket of his satchel. The world immediately snapped into focus, sharp-edged and limned in silver-gold.

(He would never grow used to that transition.)

(The wolf howled again, lonely and mournful. The power twined around his limbs and beckoned him onward.)

Uryuu slunk through the forest, senses on alert. The satchel's strap creaked under his grip, fabric protesting as his nails dug deeper. He followed the trail of power, followed the lonely-desperate-empty howls that guided him onward, and tried to drown his human instincts with memories of who he was following.

(It was one thing to resolve to take action, surrounded by books and the warm glow of civilization. It was another to follow that resolve into the wilds, bereft of all but hints of moonlight and the capricious light of power.)

He paused, head tilting as the breeze shifted and brought a whiff of Kurosaki to his nose. Uncertain of his reception, Uryuu held still and scanned the undergrowth, gaze skipping from shadow to shadow and nostrils flaring as he tried to pinpoint where Kurosaki would appear.

A confused whuf sound caught his attention at last, directing his gaze towards a large rock. The wolf that warily stepped from behind the rock was slender, with lanky limbs and ragged fur that left it looking unkempt. Its ears were forward, though, and there was an intelligent glint in its glowing eyes as it paused a few feet away and sniffed the air.

Uryuu licked suddenly dry lips; no amount of reading or research had prepared him for the reality of a creature that stood as tall as his waist and stared at him with such intelligence. His human instincts were screaming that he run, that he flee, that he prepare to die. And yet… and yet…

He shook himself, tilted his head at the wolf in front of him, and gave his own breathy, excited whuf of acknowledgment.

(This was his pack-brother. His leader.)

(He was safe with Kurosaki.)

Kurosaki blinked, ears swiveling in confusion even as his tail gave a slight wag. He cautiously stepped closer, one paw at a time, until he could lean into Uryuu's side and nudge his head under Uryuu's hand.

Kurosaki was a heavy weight against his body, and Uryuu needed to brace himself in order to remain standing, but it was comforting. An acknowledgment. A sign of trust. Of pack. "You're not caring for yourself," Uryuu said with a frown, sliding his fingers down to the tangled, matted fur around Kurosaki's neck. "Why would you not…" Uryuu bit back his words and looked away.

Of course he knew why Kurosaki wasn't caring for himself. Hadn't he felt it himself? Lost and terrified and so alone, unable to reach out but desperately needing the people he'd begun to consider friends.

(Hiding away, denying his instincts. Denying his need.)

(Urahara had saved him. Set him free and sent him fleeing back to his pack. And Ichigo had accepted him. Had taken him back without question.)

"We'll deal with this another night," Uryuu said as he pulled his hand free of Kurosaki's fur and tilted the other's chin up. He fixed his gaze on glowing amber eyes, gathered his resolve, his love, and spoke firmly, "Kurosaki Ichigo. Tomorrow is a school day, and your attendance has been spotty enough already. You can sleep on my couch if you don't want to return to your home, but gallivanting around naked in the forest is not the answer."

Kurosaki jerked his head away, eyes wide and ears pinned back, muscles rippling under his skin…

Uryuu winced, unable to look away as Kurosaki's fur sloughed off in patchy clumps that faded away into clumps of flickering silver. As the wolf melted into silver streamers that twisted and swirled together, until a human was slumped against Uryuu's legs, panting and shivering and naked.

"Put some clothes on," Uryuu pretended to complain, offering Kurosaki a hand to help him stand. He ignored the way dark claws dug into his skin as Kurosaki gripped his arm. Ignored the way Kurosaki swayed and slumped against Uryuu, struggling to reorient himself to two legs instead of four. Ignored the way Kurosaki's hand clung tight to Uryuu's shirt.

(Ignored, but didn't overlook.)

"Ruined mine," Kurosaki muttered into Uryuu's shoulder, free hand gesturing vaguely behind him. "Somewhere."

Uryuu whuffed in amusement and shook his head. He'd expected that. "Well, since I'd rather not try to sneak you into town like this… I supposed it's a good thing I brought something for you." It was difficult to maneuver his backpack while trying to hold Kurosaki upright, but he managed it. And managed to pull out the clothing he had packed and shove them against Kurosaki's chest without sending them both to the ground, too. "Try these on."

Kurosaki cracked open one gleaming amber eye to assess Uryuu, then whined and straightened up, pulling away from Uryuu as he did. He made a face at the flipflops and unopened pack of underwear, but didn't say anything as he sank one black claw into the thin plastic and ripped the pack open. He dressed slowly, body clumsy and swaying enough that Uryuu was worried his friend would fall.

So he stood nearby, gaze turned outward and head cocked to keep Kurosaki within his peripheral vision, standing guard.

(He'd let nothing attempt to harm his pack-brother. Not in this state.)

The instant Kurosaki tugged on the loose shirt and finished dressing, Uryuu was back at his friend's side. He wrapped an arm around Kurosaki's waist and pulled Kurosaki's arm over his shoulder, thankful for the strength his own change had granted him. The trip out of the forest was going to be hard enough without the added strain of supporting Kurosaki's weight.

The wild reiatsu coiled around their bodies, tangling their limbs and obscuring Uryuu's senses. It beckoned-whispered-tempted, urging him deeper into the forest, urging him to not leave.

(The moon held tight to her children.)

But Uryuu soldiered on, dragging Kurosaki along with him through the dark woods, following his scent trail backwards. He — they — needed to go home, to rest and eat and talk about what had happened. Hiding away in the forest wouldn't help anything, no matter how tempting.

By the time they reached the forest's verge, Kurosaki was barely supporting his own weight, eyes drooping closed and chin nearly touching his chest. Uryuu whuffed at him again, making Kurosaki startle a bit and perk up, looking over at Uryuu in question.

"Not much further," Uryuu reassured his friend, freeing a hand to muss his own bangs a bit to better hide his eyes. There was nothing he could do about hiding Kurosaki's eyes, but hopefully he'd continue to keep his head down in case they passed any humans.

Kurosaki whined but nodded, gathering himself to keep moving. They crossed the small bridge that led back into the town proper and Uryuu began to guide them back to his apartment, keeping to the shortest path he knew. It was late enough that there weren't many people out and about, and the few that saw them didn't do more than glance at Uryuu and Kurosaki before looking away and hurrying on.

They reached his apartment building without being stopped, and Uryuu eyed the stairs in despair. Three flights. They needed to climb three flights in order to reach his apartment, with Kurosaki all but asleep at his side and Uryuu's instincts clamoring to return to the safety of his den with his pack-brother.

"Almost there," Uryuu told Kurosaki, nudging his friend to rouse him again. "Just some stairs left, alright?" Kurosaki blinked sleepily at him then nodded, tilting his head to look up at the stairs they needed to take.

Uryuu adjusted his grip on Kurosaki, then reinforced his body as best he could and started up the stairs. Three flights felt impossible, but Uryuu kept putting one foot in front of the other, kept his grip on Kurosaki, kept moving despite nearly falling whenever Kurosaki tripped.

Reaching his landing was a relief, and Uryuu almost dragged Kurosaki down the hall to reach his den, fumbling with his key until it finally turned and let him back into safety. Uryuu flipped the lights on, kicked the door closed behind him and slid the deadbolt home, then pulled Kurosaki over to his couch and let the exhausted teen go.

Kurosaki collapsed into the cushions and immediately migrated to the corner of the couch where Uryuu usually sat. He kicked off the flipflops and drew his legs up onto the couch, curling up and making himself comfortable. His eyes scanned the sparsely furnish room, then moved to stare up at Uryuu. "Your eyes…"

Uryuu grimaced and ran a hand through his hair, pushing his bangs out of the way. There was no longer a point to hiding, and no real way to hide it either, not this close and in such a well-lit room. Kurosaki's eyes at least stayed similar, turning amber instead of brown, but Uryuu's eyes… there was nothing similar to his human eye color about them.

(Silver-grey like the moon, with a ring of green around his pupils. A far cry from his usual deep blue.)

"It happens," Uryuu answered stiltedly, looking away. "Your eyes are different, too." He didn't wait for Kurosaki's answer, just stepped into his small kitchen and opened the fridge, wondering what he had on hand that Kurosaki might like.

Stacked boxes of leftovers filled almost all of one shelf and part of a second, both homemade and take-out. He'd had to get… creative with his meal planning, once his own changes began; he needed a lot more food now than he had a year ago, and most of that he could point directly at the change being the cause.

Giving up on deciding, Uryuu pulled out a stack of different things and set the first one in the microwave to reheat. "I don't know what you'd prefer, but I'm sure at least something I have will be acceptable," Uryuu said, grabbing dishes and utensils and heading back into the main room.

Kurosaki made a face and sat up. "You don't have to feed me. Or… or do any of this. I—"

"Kurosaki, shut up," Uryuu growled, irritation causing him to tighten his grip on a bowl more than necessary as he set it down. It cracked, spiderweb lines radiating out from under his fingers, and Uryuu winced as he let go.

(Another thing broken because of this curse. Because of his lack of control. Because of his failure to adapt.)

(Was Ichigo having these same problems?)

Uryuu took a deep breath and tried to rein in his irritation. The rest of the dishes were set down with almost painful delicacy under Kurosaki's concerned gaze. But his pack-brother said nothing, and Uryuu forced himself to continue. "If you haven't noticed yet, we share a bit more these days than most." He held up one hand, clicking his heavy claws together to draw Kurosaki's attention. "I have no idea how the hell you gained the Quincy bloodline curse, but you have it, and I'm not going to let you struggle through that on your own." Like I had to do, Uryuu didn't say.

(It was bad enough, missing all the signs until now. Leaving Kurosaki to handle the initial changes all on his own.)

(Uryuu didn't know if he'd ever forgive himself that oversight.)

"Quincy… bloodline curse?" Kurosaki frowned, looking down at his own clawed hands. "This whole… werewolf thing is because of the Quincy?"

"Unless you would like to tell me which kami you angered enough to curse you?"

Kurosaki scowled at his hands and fell back into silence, thumb absently rubbing at his thick claws.

Uryuu left him to it, picking up the broken bowl and retreating to the kitchen to discard it. He cycled the containers of leftovers through the microwave, making sure everything was heated through, and grabbed two glasses for water to bring out as well. As the dishes were readied, he carried them out and set them down carefully, slowly filling up the little coffee table with plenty of options for the two of them to choose from.

By the time everything was ready, Kurosaki's attention was flickering between Uryuu and the food, a conflicted expression on his face.

"Eat," Uryuu ordered his friend, as he took a seat on the other end of the couch and started to eat the dish he'd chosen to start with. "Whatever you want."

Kurosaki hesitated, then moved forward and dished himself up some food and dug in. They settled into a comfortable silence, passing dishes back and forth as they cleaned up nearly everything Uryuu had set out.

"I can't think of any kami capable of… of this that I might have offended," Kurosaki admitted, setting aside his bowl and chopsticks and curling back up. "But… if this is a bloodline thing, why's it only showing up now?"

Uryuu set down his own dishes, then tucked himself comfortably in the corner of the couch so that he could face Kurosaki. "Best I can tell, it's… it's usually dormant. I think… I think it shows up if we lose our powers."

Kurosaki's amber gaze was piercing. "And stops when you regain them?"

"Stops progressing, at least," Uryuu agreed, looking away from Kurosaki's gaze and instead focusing on the distance between them. He wanted… he wanted comfort. He wanted to curl up with his pack-brother and just relax for once, revel in the fact that his den wasn't lonely-empty-cold for a time. But he… he couldn't. Kurosaki hadn't indicated he wanted Uryuu in his personal space, no matter his choice of where to sit.

(Please let Ichigo not want to leave tonight… even just this was better than nothing.)

Kurosaki sighed and rubbed at his face, exhaustion dragging at his shoulders and making him look so much smaller than Uryuu had ever seen him before. "No going back, huh?"

"Not… not that I've been able to find," Uryuu said softly, hating the way his words made Kurosaki slump in dejection. Before he could help himself, Uryuu slid forward and wriggled between Kurosaki and the back of the couch, partially draping himself over his pack-brother in an attempt at comfort.

"The hell?" Kurosaki bit out, body rigid and his arm held awkwardly above Uryuu's body. "Ishida, what are you—"

"S-sorry," Uryuu muttered, pressing his face into Kurosaki's chest for a moment to take in his pack-brother's scent before trying to pull himself free. "I… you looked… like you needed comfort, and you're my pack, s-so I…"

Kurosaki's hand settled on the back of his neck and Uryuu froze, watching Kurosaki warily, wondering how his friend would react.

Uryuu had spent months coming to terms with his new instincts. With labeling Kurosaki and the others as pack. He'd also spent months denying his need to press close and nap in their presence, months of keeping a lid on his urge to tease and goad them into what amounted to play.

Fighting at their side was enough, had to be enough, especially with Kurosaki pulling away from them. There was no time for levity, for play, Uryuu had to remind himself constantly.

(He was helpless against Ichigo's depression. Helpless and weak and never good enough. There was no time for play, not when he needed to defend and try to support his wounded pack-brother.)

"Pack," Kurosaki said slowly, expression considering. "That's why you've been hanging out with the others without complaining as much." His body started to relax, and the hand on the back of Uryuu's neck pressed down a bit harder.

Uryuu shrugged awkwardly and followed the pressure down, until he was sprawled across Kurosaki once more and his friend's hand had moved to settle on his back. "They're pack too," he reluctantly agreed, closing his eyes and just enjoying the warmth of being allowed this.

"But they don't know about this."

"No." Uryuu had never wanted to tell them, unsure how they would react.

Kurosaki whuffed at him, sound chiding, and pulled Uryuu tighter against his body as he shifted around on the couch in order to stretch his legs out. "They need to know," Kurosaki stated as he settled Uryuu more comfortably against his side. "Especially since we're both like this."

"They don't—"

"They do, Ishida," Kurosaki said, rapping his knuckles lightly against Uryuu's skull. "How much easier would the past few months have been for you if they knew?"

"What about you," Uryuu countered, pushing himself up enough to glower at Kurosaki. "Don't think I didn't notice you pulling away from us!"

Shame crossed Kurosaki's expression and he looked away, ducking his chin down as he did. "Sorry. That… that wasn't… I'm sorry."

Uryuu sighed and shook his head. "You need to apologize to the others, not me. I didn't enjoy it, but… it's not like I didn't do the same. When you lose everything, and then this starts to happen—" he tapped a claw against Kurosaki's chest, drawing his friend's gaze back to him, "—everything's just too much, isn't it? And suddenly you're thinking about things differently, and you're hungry all the time but why bother eating, and you feel too needy so you just pull away…"

"We're both a mess, aren't we?" Kurosaki asked.

Uryuu stared at Kurosaki, thinking about the effects of telling the other teens. The very idea terrified him; what if they turned him away? He could survive with what he had right now, but if they cast him out… "Do we have to tell them?" he asked in a small voice, hoping against hope that Kurosaki would back down, would say no.

Kurosaki's hand slid through Uryuu's hair, fingers carefully bent so only the smooth backs of his claws touched Uryuu's scalp. "They won't turn us away," he said confidently. "Tatsuki's been through a lot with me already, and you know how loyal Chad is. And Orihime would never be that mean."

"But they're your friends, not mine," Uryuu muttered, eyes slipping closed as he relaxed into the touch.

"They're ours," Kurosaki insisted, before sighing and giving in. "Alright. Let's just… get used to this? Maybe we can figure some more things out together, and then tell them when we know more?"

Relief flooded his body at the reprieve; it wasn't a promise to keep it a secret, but it was a delay. And maybe… maybe Kurosaki would stop withdrawing from them at school? Having his full pack around all at once would be incredible, especially with Kurosaki being like him.

(He wouldn't be so alone. So lonely despite being among his pack.)

(Maybe… maybe Ichigo was right.)

(Dare he take such a chance?)

"How much do you know about this, anyway?" Kurosaki asked, pulling Uryuu's attention back to him.

Uryuu shrugged, uncomfortable with the question but unwilling to lie to his pack-brother. "Not much. I don't… there's not many mentions of whatever this is in any of the Quincy books I can read." And it had been hard enough to find those mentions in the first place, much less piece together what little information he'd been able to glean from it all. It was almost like his ancestors were ashamed of it. "I've just been writing down what I notice and trying to get by."

Kurosaki considered that, fingers still combing through Uryuu's hair absently. "Did you know you could… undo the change like that? When you came to me tonight."

Uryuu hesitated, then reluctantly admitted, "No."

"You idiot!" Kurosaki tugged sharply at Uryuu's hair, frustration heavy in his voice. "What if I'd attacked you? You just walked right to me and then let me approach like that!"

"But you wouldn't have!" Uryuu glared back at Kurosaki. "We keep our minds for the most part, and I wasn't being threatening!"

Kurosaki growled, lips curling back to show the tips of his wolf-like teeth. "Not good enough. That was stupid, Ishida."

"I could have escaped," Uryuu muttered petulantly, looking away. Kurosaki's words burned, because his friend was right; with how little he knew about this curse, it was a foolish move to approach Kurosaki like that. But he'd been so anxious, so hopeful that Kurosaki would consider him pack, that he'd just… ignored the danger. "Besides, it's not like your plans are any better."

"My plans work just fine!"

Uryuu snorted and gave Kurosaki an incredulous look. "Because of luck. You charge head first into things and hope for the best. Just because it works doesn't mean it's a good plan."

Kurosaki huffed a laugh and tugged on Uryuu's hair again. "So does that mean you were channeling me when you went into that forest tonight?"

"Wh— absolutely not!" Uryuu denied.

"You were!"

Uryuu refused to respond and instead just flopped back down on Kurosaki's chest, situating himself comfortably and letting the steady beat of his friend's heart sooth his mind. He ignored Kurosaki's quiet whuf of amusement in favor of enjoying the closeness his pack-brother was allowing.

(If Kurosaki never allowed him this again, at least he would have this memory.)

Uryuu was nearly asleep when Kurosaki asked in a soft voice, "Am I going to change again tomorrow night?"

"Mmm?"

"Into a wolf."

Uryuu scrambled to wake up enough to answer Kurosaki's question, trying to call up everything he knew about the change, but… "I don't know," he had to admit. "You could… come over tomorrow?"

"Is that safe?" Kurosaki fretted with the edge of Uryuu's shirt, tugging and twisting it between his fingers. "We're surrounded by people, here."

"Called you back once," Uryuu huffed, grabbing Kurosaki's hand and pulling it free of his shirt. "Safe enough."

"But—"

"Stop worrying," Uryuu growled. "Go to sleep. Both need it."

"Heh… alright. Goodnight, Ishida."