Chapter 1: Tradition

Notes: For the Shamelessly Alternate prompt on tumblr: Werewolves
tw: animal abuse, though this is the only part of the series this subject will be present in.

Today was Ian Gallagher's eighteenth birthday. The eighteenth year wasn't only a significant event among humans, but among werewolves as well. It marked the day a werewolf would no longer need a full moon to shift, and when they received their tattoos. Each werewolf had two tattoos located on their chest, over their heart. One signified what pack or family one belonged to, and the other was of the person's own choosing. In older times, these symbols were branded into the skin. Few packs still held to that tradition. Ian had never seen someone with a brand before. The thought of someone burning his flesh made Ian feel bilious. He didn't want to delay any longer thinking on that, so he eagerly shot out of bed and trotted down the stairs.

"Hey, there, birthday boy," Fiona greeted happily.

"He's not a boy anymore, Fi," Lip said rising from his seat to hug his brother.

Fiona rolled her eyes. "Oh, Jesus, Lip. I don't need more of your machismo attitude."

Lip ignored his older sister and addressed Ian. "Kev and Veronica are comin over after dinner. You ready?"

"So ready," Ian confirmed.

That evening, Kevin and Veronica came over just as they were expected. They were human. Some of the only humans who knew werewolves exited. They had befriended the Gallaghers when Fiona defended the couple against two other wolves. For one of their anniversaries, Kev unknowingly made the poor choice to take Veronica on a picnic in a werewolf hotspot. They had just settled onto the red and white, plaid blanket when two wolves began encircling them. The wolves snapped their jaws at them, but before they could pounce Fiona intervened and saved the couple's lives.

Veronica brought wine; Kevin brought his tattoo gun and ink he bought online. Kev wasn't a tattoo artist, at least not professionally. It was just something he liked to dabble in, and he had done Lip's tattoos last year. It also helped that most werewolf tattoos were runes and various other symbols, or as Kev liked to describe "just a couple lines here and there."

Ian promptly removed his shirt at the kitchen table where Kev was setting up.

"You decide what you wanna get?" Kev asked.

He did. Fiona had the rune symbol of Freya and Lip basically had a less than sign. Ian presented Kevin with a piece of paper that had what looked liked the letter 'P' on it. "It's the rune symbol for Thor."

"It also means force, defense, conflict, vital eroticism…" Debbie listed from the counter where she watched with Carl.

"Debbie!" Fiona chastised.

"Well, it does."

"I can't wait to get mine," Carl said.

Once he put on some rubber gloves, Kevin started on Ian's tattoo. Ian winced as Kev drew the first line of the Gallagher family symbol.

"Does it hurt?" Carl asked.

Kev chuckled. "It's a needle scratching your skin."

The answer didn't satisfy Ian's younger brother.

"Yes, Carl," Ian provided. "It hurts."

Fortunately the two tattoos didn't take long. When they were done each of Ian's brothers and sisters took turns to inspect the marks, particularly the three younger Gallagher siblings. Liam even smiled at the images and reached a curious hand out to try to touch them. Fiona stopped Liam before he did, though. Besides the rune Ian decided on, he had a symbol resembling a wheel which meant unity.

"That's quality work right there," Kev said proudly.

"Thought you said they're just lines," Veronica pointed out.

"Babe, please. I'm clearly an artist."

"Oh, my god."

Fiona giggled at her friends. "Alright, wanna try shifting into your wolf now?"

"Absolutely," Ian replied enthusiastically.

The company exited from the back of the Gallagher house for this part of the evening. They watched in anticipation from the back porch and steps. Lip was the only one in the backyard with Ian. He would be the one to talk Ian through changing without the moon.

"Do you all really have to watch?" Ian asked.

"I knew you'd be a baby about this. We turn together all the time at the cabins," Lip groused. "Just go around behind the van."

"What kind of wierdo wouldn't be creeped out by his family and neighbors watching him strip and turn into a fucking wolf? If I remember correctly you hid behind the van last year too "

"Whatever. It's night anyway. Just… don't pay any attention to them. It'll only distract you. Close your eyes and listen to my voice."

Reluctantly, Ian concealed himself as best as he could from his family and friends and removed his clothes. He shut his eyes and took a few deep breaths.

"You good?"

"Yeah," Ian called back.

"Alright. Try not to think about anything except how you feel when you know it's gonna be a full moon," Lip began. "It feels like all day you're waiting for the moon to come up again. You can feel it there - the wolf - just begging to be free again."

Ian recalled those feelings easily. It was common for werewolves to feel a sense of unrest in their human forms, especially nearing their eighteenth birthday, but it was more than that for Ian. His human life was all about order and control, making sure no one ever found out what he was. Being a wolf was the only time Ian ever felt free. He longed for the moon and was happy he was able to change willingly now. Ian gasped suddenly and fell to his knees.

"Ian?" Lip asked alarmed from the opposite side of the van. He ran to the other side but when he reached his brother Ian was now in his wolf form. "Wow, that was fast." It had taken both Fiona and Lip at least half an hour to change.

"Is he ok?" Fiona called from the porch.

"See for yourself," Lip answered coming from behind the van with his brother.

The group gasped in amazement and made a beeline towards a wolfed out Ian. Like his hair Ian's fur was a golden orange color, similar to the sunset, and his eyes were a darker shade of green, like a pair of emerald stones.

His family and friends congratulated him cheerfully, Fiona even petted him a few times. Then Liam grasped one of Ian's ears to which Ian gave a low whine, too nice to give even a warning growl to his little brother.

"Liam!" Fiona scolded, and Liam let go of his brother's ear. She resumed petting Ian until he felt like she was mothering him again and shook his head a few times. "Alright," Fiona said, removing her hand. "You go change back."

"You know, V, it's a shame werewolfism is only hereditary," Kevin said to his wife.

"Lycanthropy," Veronica corrected. "And what the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm just sayin', wolves are pretty badass. And Debbie and Carl look so cute in their wolf cub forms!" The pair of siblings rolled their eyes at Kev before he continued. "And just think how fuckin' adorable Liam's gonna be. Babe, I can't even." Liam had yet to have his first shift, which came in the tenth year.

"Kevin, growing up is hard enough as it is and you wanna add being a werewolf to the list?" Kevin and Veronica had just started trying for a baby and Kev would go on and on about how he wished either he or V were a werewolf so their child had a shot at turning out to be a wolf as well.

"She's right, Kev," Fiona concurred. "Why do you think I'm always runnin' after everyone, literally? Trust me, you guys lucked out being human - being normal people."

When Ian returned Lip embraced his younger brother. "Got a birthday surprise for you."

"What?" Fiona questioned. "What kind of birthday surprise?"

"We're gonna go out. Just gonna do some brother-wolf stuff."

"Brother-wolf stuff?"

"C'mon, Fi," Ian pleaded.

Fiona crossed her arms and sighed, still her expression softened everytime Ian got that puppy dog look in his eyes. "Alright, fine," she relented. "But be back before midnight." Along with Kev and Veronica, she guided the rest of her siblings back into the house. "Let's go, shows over." Debbie and Carl begrudgingly trudged up the steps as their older sister instructed.

When they were left alone Lip turned to his brother and smirked. "C'mon, nights not over yet."

"Where are we going?" Ian asked excitedly.

"You'll see."

Deep in the forest Mickey Milkovich made his way towards the dim glow of fire and sounds of snarling. He was being led by his father, Terry. Their destination was like the others they frequented on the weekends. They were on their way to, essentially, a werewolf fightclub - and not as spectators. Well, Terry would watch, and make bets, while Mickey was forced to partake in the fights. Terry used to make Mickey's mother fight, until she got too old and weak; and then she died. Terry's human, but even if he weren't, Mickey didn't believe for one second his dad would put his neck out there like that just to make a few extra bucks.

All four of Terry's children turned out to be werewolves, but being only half wolf came with it's drawbacks. Neither Iggy nor Colin were as quick or as strong as purebreds, Colin couldn't even make himself turn when he wanted after he reached eighteen. Mandy was the youngest, and no one knew whether or not she'd be stronger after her eighteenth birthday. Mickey, though, was special. Or maybe just lucky, or unlucky, depending on how you looked at it. His wolf was small, but what he lacked in size he made up with raw aggression and ferocity. So when his mother died, Terry went back to the fights with a new warrior.

"Mickey, move your ass," Terry yelled over his shoulder.

Mickey hated being used like this, hated it when it had been his mother too, but he didn't have a choice. If he wanted to stay alive Mickey had to fight.

In the surrounding area of the fields where the fights were held there were usually guards. They needed someone to keep a look out for humans. Sometimes they let Mickey and Terry in without a hassle, other times were more difficult.

As Mickey and Terry approached a heap of bushes, two men suddenly appeared in front of them. The one smoking a cigarette flicked his stub to the ground and crushed it under his boot. "The hell do you think you're going? You ain't one of us."

"He is," Terry said, grabbing Mickey by the back of his neck and pushing him forward.

The guard snickered. "Fuckin' mutt is what he is. He won't last one fight."

"Show 'em," Terry said to his son.

Mickey took off his tank top.

"A brand?" the second guard asked. "What, you think that makes you tough shit?"

"Why don't you let us in and you'll find out," Mickey growled.

"Whatever, you're funeral."

The first guard scoffed. "Better hope your bite's worse than your bark, mutt."

"What is this place?" Ian asked his brother as they both approached two rather intimidating men.

"Don't worry, you're gonna like it," Lip assured.

They were both allowed in without question; they didn't even have to show their tattoos. Werewolves could easily sniff each other out in a group.

When the brothers reached the other side of the hedge, Ian's eyes went wide in disbelief. Their was a ring of people hollering incoherently with a pair of wolves fighting at the center. One of the wolves was a little on the smaller side with jet black fur and royal blue eyes. The orange glow of fires nearby gave the atmosphere a bestial vibe. "You brought me to a werewolf fight? Why the fuck did you think I'd like this?"

"What's with you? Werewolf fights go way back, it's tradition."

"Tradition?! We shouldn't fight for the same reasons we don't brand our skin anymore. It's barbaric!"

To Ian's relief the current fight ended then. The wolves changed back and Ian made eye contact with the boy who was the black wolf. On the surface, Ian could see his anger, and when the boy's eye's flickered in the firelight Ian could see something else - fear. The boy was naked, covered in dirt from head to toe from grappling with the other wolf and smeared with blood on various parts of his body. Ian felt sad for him, so sad he could cry.

"Take me home, Lip."

Lip only nodded in response as he guided Ian away from the field. Neither said a word the whole walk back.

"You're not gonna tell Fiona, are you?" Lip finally asked when they arrived home.

"You're fucking unbelievable sometimes," Ian scoffed. "No, I won't tell Fiona."

"Hey, look, man. I'm sorry, alright? I never thought about any of this shit before."

"Which makes me wonder why everyone thinks you're the smart one."

"I mostly just bullshit everyone into thinking I'm smart."

"You think?" I said with a laugh. "Can we agree to never go back to those types of places again, together or alone? Or with anyone else?"

"Yeah," Lip answered without hesitation. He shared a beer with Ian in the kitchen to try to calm his brother down a bit more.

When Ian was at last huddled up in his bed he couldn't help but to think of the boy with dark hair and blue eyes.