One

"C'mon, son. What's your name?"

The big man squats in front of him and smells strange. He wears a blue jacket like he's never seen before and a black box squawks with sounds every once in a while.

Rhydian decides he don't like him. He's the man who put him in that strange moving box that was much too loud for hours after finding him in the woods. No matter his protests that he must get back to his home the man talks in gibberish and does not make sense.

"C'mon, it's just your name, we're not going to hurt you," the man speaks again in these weird sounds.

So he bares his teeth and snarls.

"I want to go home," he growls and brings his legs close to his body, glaring at the strange man.

The man waves his hand and a similarly dressed woman comes over and they talk for such a long time Rhydian is sure he is ready to do anything to go home. The woman smells strongly like the flowerbed back home but it's not right. It's fake and she does not smell like dirt and he feels tears coming again.

"I want to go home," he cries.

"That's Welsh," the woman mutters and then quickly gets up, and returns with a man that smells like leather and smoke.

"Hello."

This man speaks normally, and he looks up from his knees, "I want to go home."

"What is your name?"

"Rhydian. Can I go home?"

"Where is your home?"

"The forest."

The man frowns, "The forest?"

"Yes the forest!" Rhydian smiles for the first time since he has been taken away from his forest.

"Where are your mommy and daddy?"

"Hunting."

"Hunting?"

This man must be very old, Rhydian realizes. His mother tells him stories of the elders having trouble remembering their lives and surroundings. They constantly need to be reminded and respected, no matter if you repeat yourself, "Yes. Hunting in the trees. Deer."

The man frowns and says something in the foreign language to the weird people, who then speak back to him, "How old are you?"

Rhydian frowns, and looks at his fingers. He has recently celebrated his Birthing Day, "Three."

"What were you doing in the forest, near the road?"

Rhydian looks down at his hands and the old man asks him the question again.

"I wasn't supposed to be near the road," he answers, "Will you tell mommy that I was?"

The man pauses, then shakes his head slowly.

"I was exploring. Mommy says the road is bad, but the squirrel was on it."

"Why is the road bad?"

Rhydian stares at the man incredulously. Surely he must know, "Dangerous," he responds carefully pronouncing the word.

The man nods, "Do you know English?"

"What's English?" Rhydian asks.

The man sighs, "A language."

"What's a language?"

"A specific way to communicate."

"What does communicate mean?"

His question is met with a smile and silence, until it's ignored entirely, "Are you hungry?"

"Yes!" he could have eaten a whole rabbit.

"Would you like to eat?"

"Yes," he remembers his manners, "Please."

"Come," the man holds out his hand and he takes it.

As they walk through this very large den with straight walls he stops.

"What is this?"

"A mirror."

He has seen his reflection in the lakes before but he puts his hand to the thing that is now a mirror and touches it, shocked. The boy has the exact same movements as him and looks the same down to the black boots. He reaches to touch the cut he got from playing with Jana on his cheek and the boy in the mirror does the exact same. He has the same short messy blonde hair, with a couple pieces of grass in it and the same warm brown jacket.

"Is this me?"

"Yes," the man smiles and he laughs. This is what he looks like! His mother is right. He has very, very blue eyes.

His stomach growls and he looks up to the man, and they continue until he is picked up and put on a platform that is raised.

He is given a strange food that is colored like fallen autumn leaves and crunchy.

"They're called crackers," the man says to his questions.

Crackers turn out to be tasty but also salty. The water they give him is in a strange clear thing. He watches the old man drink the water by picking up the container in one hand and tilting the clear container backwards. He copies the movements, except that he has to sue both his hands. The water spills over the container but he is no longer thirsty.

The old man takes a package out of his pocket and produces a thin white stick and a blue cylinder. He flicks the cylinder and Rhydian watches flame come out of it.

This man is crazy.

He cowers away from the flame and scrunches his eyes and moans.

"Just a little fire."

"No fire," he pops open a cautious eye to see it gone and relaxes as the man exhales smoke.

"You are scared of fire?"

Rhydian nods, "It is very, very bad."

The man considers this and nods, "No more fire then."

"Thank you." Perhaps he is not as bad as Rhydian thinks. He reminds him of the pack elder, and he remembers his family, "I want to go home."

The man grows quiet and looks like he wants to say something, "Rhydian, you can't."

"No!" he growls.

"We don't know where you parents are, and we don't know where you live."

"The FOREST!" he yells for what feels like the hundredth time. Do they not understand?

"Rhydian," the man tries.

He throws what he can throw at the man, the clay thing the food was on, "I WANT TO GO HOME!" he bares his teeth and growls from the depths of his throat. He falls to the ground from the thing he was sitting on and runs to the corner, dropping to his hands and feet. He remembers his father with his sharp teeth and yellow eyes, strong and ferocious and imagines that he is him.

"Rhydian, you need to calm down."

He howls in response and hops to his feet, remembering how he came into this place so he must retrace his steps, like when he is tracking animal prints but he is picked up by a large pair of hands. It is the strange man that put him in the metal moving box.

"LET ME GO!" he yowls and scratches and bites.

He is held down and watches in horror as a woman dressed in blue stabs him with something that makes his arm hurt. He wails until he feels tired, even more tired than when there is no moon.

The old man hovers over him and brushes his hair to the side, "I'm sorry, Rhydian. Don't worry, you will be safe."

He tries to tell the man he wants to go home but his eyelids are too heavy.

When he awakes he is in a new room with a woman who smiles kindly at him. He cannot smell the old man and he cannot understand the woman but he can tell he is very, very far away from the forest.

He is alone.

.

Two

"And you're not coming out until the morning!" the closet door slams and he doesn't test it.

The sound of Ms. McMillan locking the door only confirms his suspicions and he clutches the stuffed animal in his arms. Luckily there are clothes on the floor to help keep him warm but the cramped space is what bothers him.

Despite the situation he's in he has to smile when he hears her bang her toe, unable to see in the dark, a problem that he's never had.

He can't explain it, why he can see so well in the dark, why he can run faster than all of the kids on the playground and hear things from across the house but whatever the reason is he would do anything to reverse it. It's what's got him stuck in this closet as punishment anyways. It's not like he can help it but even at the age of ten he's realized that he's different. His classmate Jackson still has a band aid over his scrape from falling down three days ago. Him on the other hand, it's gone in hours. Rhydian hates vegetables, and only hamburgers and pork chop night make him feel truly satisfied and full, and he can't stand being around fire. He doesn't remember how, but he can speak basic Welsh but he knows it has to do with the strange dreams that feel more like memories of the forest.

So it's not really his fault for being different, it really isn't.

It hurts though.

He might be able to heal from scrapes and cuts from playing on the school yard but Mr. McMillan's slaps are much harder. Rhydian knows he has to stop roughhousing but it's fun and he's stronger so he wins, but the punishment waiting for him at his newest home is not worth the glory he gets on the playground. Nobody understands him when he tries to explain the thrumming of something deep inside him, the one that pushes him to violence when provoked that that makes baring his teeth and growling feel natural. The social services agent thinks he's confused from his time in the forest. He's been told he was found dirty and confused. Wild.

Even if the closet makes him feel trapped in a cage the darkness it offers is comforting. In his dreams the forest never had lights like these in the city. Only the moon and the stars would give light, and on the nights when the moon was gone, he dreams of warmth and sleepiness. If only it could offer that now. The strange pounding that makes him get angry quickly is gone on these days, he's realized, and with it all his energy. He's felt tired before, but never this outright exhaustion that has come in a package of a headache and aches and he McMillans are not happy with his groans and complains. Instead they've given him some medicine and thrown him in the closet.

Honestly the closet is fine though, even if the corner of the shelf always clips him in the thigh when they push him in, but nowhere else in house can curl up in a heap of clothes which is much more comfortable than one big duvet. Rhydian pulls another jacket from the hangar above him and snuggles under it. The medicine is working because his eyes are drooping and the exhaustion is taking over.

When he wakes up he's being pulled up by his arm, "Come with me," Ms. McMillan instructs him, her sharp nails digging into his skin.

Downstairs is the social services woman and Mr. McMillian, untouched coffee in front of them.

"Hello, Rhydian," his social worker smiles, "How are you?"

"Tired," he yawns.

"Manners," Ms. McMillan says sharply.

"Rhydian, it's come to my attention that you're getting in many fights at school. Is this true?"

"Yes."

"And that you don't listen to Mr. and Ms. McMillian or do your work?"

He shrugs. It's a mutual hatred.

The worker sighs, "Rhydian, I think it's in the best interest that you be moved to a different home. The McMillians have raised several children on their own perfectly fine who have grown to be successful. No matter, I cannot see how you staying with the McMillians would be beneficial for their, and your life.

"What?"

"It's only been four months, and your teachers and guardians have many complaints. Unruly behavior, fights, disobedience," she looks up from her notes with an eyebrow raised, "Climbing up trees?"

"I hate the city."

Ms. McMillian mumbles something under her breath.

"Perhaps then we'll try the suburbs, yes?"

"Okay."

"I'll be back with the papers," she says to his guardians and shakes their hands, "See you in a week Rhydian. Be all packed and ready to go."

He barely owns anything, "Okay," he says brightly, already dreaming of the new house and its occupants. They may not hit him, or mind his love for burgers and the way he feels the need to run. They might not hate him.

As soon as the door is closed though he's torn from his daydreams by a hand squeezing his shoulder hard. It's Mr. McMillian, "You ungrateful useless pile, taking our time, our love, our money! We gave you everything you could have wanted."

He senses the blow before it comes and it hurts more than he expects. His cheek stings.

"Happy to leave?" another one blow that will bruise, and Mr. McMillian pushes him back into the wall and crouches down to his eye level, "I'm glad I don't have to look at you again," Mr. McMillian spits, "Freak."

"I'm not a freak," he whispers. He's different, yes, but he's not a freak.

"Don't tell me what you think you are," Mr. McMillian jabs a finger into his chest, "I know exactly what you are. I've heard the story. Abandoned in the forest as a babe and found as a toddler."

Rhydian swallows. He's not wrong.

"Not even your own parents wanted you," Mr. McMillian pushes him down on his side, stands up looming over him for a second before walking away.

He feels tears in his eyes and it takes all his restraint not to try and hit the man back because he knows that no matter how evil Mr. McMillian is, he's right.

He's unwanted.

.

Three

Rhydian is sure he's going to be kicked out of the known as 34 Clarkale Crescent, no matter how forgiving and understanding the Jacobs are. He feels dizzy again and breathes heavily and knocks over the vase with a crash as he stumbles up the stairs to his room. He's definitely sorry for the damage he's inflicting on the small but nice house but that's very low on his list of priorities at the moment because he's dealing with something much more terrifying at the moment.

It doesn't make sense, he's been feeling amazing, and the last couple days he's been feeling impossibly high. He's run faster than he's ever gone before, smelled more, heard more. He feels energized and playful, but the scary part is the thrumming of whatever it is in him has gotten louder as well. Last full moon the veins on his hands started turning black and ever since he's been wearing fingerless gloves in fear of it happening again. A perfect 30 days later it's another full moon and the thrumming harder to control and wild. He's shaking uncontrollably and the black lines have turned blacker and have started snaking up his forearms.

The Jacob's have left him alone and are long gone, off to see a play in London. He'd refused their offer to see it, partly because it was the full moon, and partly because he hates plays. His foster brother Sam sleeping over a friend's and won't be home until morning. Now he's glad that they're all gone because he's feeling like something inside him will split him open and he trips once on his way to the bathroom, feeling ready to throw up.

He catches his reflection in the mirror and the whole world stops.

They were right.

Yellow eyes stare back at him where blue should be.

He's a monster.

Whatever the McMillians, the Kerrs, all of his foster parents, they were all right.

He's the one who's been wrong.

He's a freak.

If if he's not sure, the elongated canine teeth and breaths that sound more like growls are perfect proof. He looks pale and haggard, his hair messy, and the black veins are making an appearance on his neck and up his jaw.

He yells out loud, his limbs feeling weird and his back is in agony as he grips the sides of the sink so hard they crack and crumble. He knocks over things off the sink, trying to get a grip on something as his vision blurs.

Then it feels like his whole body tightens and the thrumming that's been with him all his life, something he's been trying to quell recently, explodes and he can't help but go with the wave that crashes over his body and forces him on his knees.

Rhydian's vaguely aware that his legs are getting shorter and that he no longer has fingers and hands but instead paws. He's not balanced on two feet but now four limbs, and there's an incredibly foreign feeling of a fifth…limb? He tests it. It's a tail. The thrumming is now in all of him and his breath comes in pants as he clumsily walks through the house, not used to this form. He walks to the floor to ceiling mirror and a lightly colored wolf stares back at him.

He tilts his snout to the air and sniffs. Everything that he smelled as a human is magnified and his stomach rumbles. He bounds over to the kitchen, leaping up on the table, knocking over and breaking a wine glass and bottle to eat the leftover pork roast that not even he could finish. Within seconds the huge meal is gone.

Rhydian perks his ears up trots around the house, feeling caged and excited. Without his human hands he can't open doors, but he remembers that he left the window open in his room. Seconds later he's landing on the grass and howling to the moon, tearing up the nicely manicured yard in his excitement. Rhydian doesn't remember where he goes as a wolf but when he feels the moon weaken he realizes that he doesn't know where he is, except that he's on a football pitch. The importance that he's somewhat lost and has left a house of destruction by both his human and wolf form hits him.

Without any notion of grace he sprints across the field he tumbles over his paws and lands face first. He feels dirt underneath his palm which is no longer a paw and groans as he brings himself to his feet and shivers. While a full fur pelt was much warmer than the thin pajama pants and shirt he has on now he's relieved. In his wolf form he spent probably much more time that he should have worrying that he had transformed like the werewolves in Twilight. He's done his research.

His hands and feet are freezing by the time he's found his bearings and makes it back to his house. Using the tree outside his window he climbs through, and cringes at the damage. He doesn't remember it being this bad. The pillows have been ripped to shreds and there's fur on the mattress. The shelves have been knocked down leaving everything that used to sit on them on the ground. His art corner his trashed his desk with his work which was messy before is a complete and utter disaster now. Pawprints of blue and green paint scatter the carpet.

The excitement of him being able to transform into a wolf, a beast of the legends and the reason for his weirdness has fled. Fear crawls through his veins instead and his heart pounds in his ears. He crawls into a ball in the corner between his bed and the wall and rocks himself.

He's going to be kicked out again.

He's going to be in so much trouble.

He really liked the Jacob family.

But the whispers of his schoolyard bullies and previous foster parents whisper in his mind and he remembers that a monster like him has no place in such a perfect family.

It's a miracle he's lasted two years here.

"Rhydian?"

He looks up slowly and suddenly he's crying. It's his foster brother.

"Sam," he gasps.

"What did you do?" Sam keeps in his place at the door, clutching the handle nervously.

"I'm sorry," he cries.

He can feel Sam's gaze on him, and then hear his footsteps as he walks downstairs.

The crunch of shoes on glass on the stairs are unmistakable and he doesn't look up when he senses his soon to be ex-foster parents at his door.

The papers are signed the following day and like clockwork, he's packed up everything he needs in a week in a few boxes.

.

One

It's because he trusts and knows the Smiths so well, that it hurts more than any time he's been kicked out of a home.

It doesn't matter that he's going back to live with the vegetarian Vaughns -that have welcomed him with open arms and is willing to accept him again despite suddenly disappearing and reappearing- because he's still got all of his stuff in boxes, ready to be shipped across the town, away from the Smiths and away from Maddy.

Rhydian was sure that the worst punch was dealt when he was told he was moving, but even after being thrown out of eight different homes it turns out he still can be surprised. Now it hurts because it turns out it was Maddy's parents who suggested it and worked with social services to orchestrate the move. The people he saw as mentors, as pack-family, the ones who welcomed him into their home not one month before have simply shunned him away. Not to mention it's for some complete bull reason that him and Maddy are 'getting too close" which, considering she hasn't talked to him since she's gotten back from Blackpool, is really just rubbing salt on the wound. He's not some wolf in sheep's clothing.

She must have listened to his awkward rambling messages that he left in her inbox though, because they're texting again and he couldn't be happier. He knows that whatever happened in Blackpool has splintered Maddy and Shannon's relationship so he can't talk to her, and Tom's trying to stay in no-mans-land like him, but he's not a Wolfblood either. Jana is around but...Maddy is Maddy.

Within tonight alone she's already made him feel better but he still misses her and talking to her through a screen feels like eons away. All he wants to do is for her to slip into his room so they can talk in hushed tones after a long or hard day like the used to, before they both got tired and she slipped behind her door again.

So it's stupid really.

It's really stupid, he thinks for a second, his thumb hesitating over the SEND button but he presses it anyways.

Why don't I just come over then?

She takes a bit longer to reply but he breaks into a smile.

And show them up? Serves them right.

I also want to see you.

He quickly texts back.

I miss you too.

I'll see you in 10?

Her response is lightning fast.

I'll be waiting. X

He grins and sits up in his bed.

See you soon. xx.

It's spontaneous and dumb, but on a deeper level he misses the Smiths and Maddy. The feeling of belonging in a pack, and the faint smells of the other Wolfbloods in the house was soothing compared to the simple human smells of the Vaughns.

He leaps out of bed, and stuffs on his shoes as quietly as he can and leaps down from the window. The damp ground ground is soft under his feet as he lands and quietly pads across yard. Once a safe distance away he goes into a full sprint. Nobody in Stoneybridge is out this late so he doesn't need to worry anybody spotting him as he lets loose and feels a rush of exhilaration. He's breathing heavily when he arrives at the window just under Maddy's room which promptly opens.

She giggles a bit as he climbs his way up to her window and shimmies through the small hole but the hug she envelops him in makes it all worth it. The full moon is in a couple nights and his wolf is closer to the surface and he's taking all of her in and she's doing the same. He rests his nose against the side of her head and inhales deeply and feels all the anger at her parents simmer away until he's left feeling only warm and calm.

"It's not fair," Maddy whispers to him. They're not the only ones with super hearing and waking her parents isn't on their agenda.

"It's okay, I'm used to it."

"It's not something you should go and get used to."

"It's okay," he mumbles again as she leads him to her bed and they sit down, their backs resting against the pillows before the headboard.

She's snuggling up to him, doing the touchy-touchy thing. When he first met the Smiths he wondered how on earth other Wolfbloods could be so calm about casual physical connections but after the night at Lindisfarne with Maddy as a wolf it makes more sense. He still can't help but feel a bit awkward, not used to the physicality of it all but the beast is fine and accommodating so he lets her rest her head in the crook of his arm and burrow into herself into his side while he pulls the duvet up to their waists.

Her feet brush by his ankles and they're freezing.

"You just want me for my warmth, don't you?"

She presses her feet to his calves and he almost lets out a yelp.

"Shh!" she hushes him harshly, "Don't go waking up me parents!"

He feels a twinge of annoyance, "I thought that we were supposed to stick it to them."

"I'm mad, not looking for a seventy year grounding."

"Right," he grins, then frowns, "I thought you said that Wolfbloods don't get cold."

"We can," she backtracks, "But I've just been feeling off since Shan and Blackpool."

"Are you okay? I haven't talked to anyone else yet."

"It's complicated."

"I've got time."

"And here I was thinking that tonight would be about comforting you," she jests, then sobers up as he looks at her patiently, "We got back early because we never made it to Blackpool at all. We ran into Wolfblood hunters."

"You're okay, right?" he runs his palm down her arm for physical reassurance.

"We all are fine. Just shaken, but...but if they didn't rely on an old heirloom hunting rifle, we…" she trails off.

He's left with a cold chill. She could have been seriously injured or even killed and he wasn't there. They're a team. They're partners and friends and he's not quite sure exactly what to think of her because to be very honest, she's giving him the butterflies that has him second guessing himself on how he acts around her all the time. Not to mention that Shannon and Tom goading him has not been helping.

He hugs her tighter, "You're okay now," he breathes in her scent again, reassuring himself. She's here. She's safe.

She pats his chest lightly, "I know, but I can't help but think about it. Shan."

"What'd she do?"

"She pretended to be a hunter. Like them. You know the owl in the den? It's a secret camera. She's been studying us for months now, collecting data and everything. Every transformation, watching us."

He feels a low growl come from his chest.

She shushes him again, "She used her information to make them think she was a hunter like them, taking the time, getting close, learning enough about us so that when the time was right, she could strike."

"And they bought it? Just like that?"

"I believed her...then five minutes later she's running down, telling us to move it because they can't be far behind. I couldn't help but feel so angry at her, she was my best friend and now she's my best friend that's been spying on me for months...but she's the reason why I'm here, if it weren't for her we'd still be in the cellar, all chained up."

Rhydian can't help but nuzzle her softly as he tries not to remember the feeling of being trapped and contained. Picturing Maddy in a similar situation is not something he wants to imagine at all. He's about to apologize for crossing the line; what is acceptable in wolf form isn't always acceptable in their human forms, some actions just don't translate well, but Maddy hasn't pushed him away. Instead she's returned the offer so they're now in a position that's normally reserved for when they wake up after a full moon.

"I'm just so mad. She's betrayed me and our pack, but she's also my best friend."

"And she saved your life."

"That too," Maddy admits.

"You don't have to decide what to do right now," he mutters.

She hums and affirmative noise.

They lay in silence, and he's about to fall asleep when she moves, "Are you sure you're okay?"

He pauses before answering. Earlier in the evening he was capable of wolfing out and now he's fine, "I'll manage."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He knows that he's probably double chinning or something as he looks down at Maddy but so what, "Not anymore. I'm good now."

"That's good," she says, and closes her eyes, "Are you comfortable?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I don't want you being uncomfy and all while trying to get some sleep."

She's suggesting that he stay here. Rhydian's pretty sure he's taken too long to answer but his head is nodding that he's fine so okay, yes, he's fine. This is happening. Rhydian is seriously considering thanking the wolf gods for not enabling Wolfbloods to have outright night vision because he's very sure he's blushing right now. The whispering gleeful voices of Tom and Shannon in his head are saying See? I told you so! in singsong voices as he pulls the duvet up and shifts a bit to get more comfortable.

"Goodnight," she whispers.

"Goodnight," he whispers back.

Somehow despite being kicked out by those he's loved most, the bite doesn't feel so bad. She's cuddled in close to him, and her feet aren't freezing anymore and okay, he'll admit it, she looks downright adorable - shut up future Shannon and Tom - and she's singlehandedly made him feel much better, the best he's felt ever after being kicked out of a home. He lets his eyes fall shut and listens to the steady sounds of Maddy and the wildlife as he soon too succumbs to sleep.

Even when they wake up to Maddy's alarm -he dives out of her window seconds before her mum comes in- he feels refreshed and well rested. She promptly reports later at school that her mam came into her room and asked why it smelled like him and that her eyes went wide as she then was briskly told to get moving otherwise she would be like for school. He snickers at the thought of Emma looking scandalized, especially when he reminds himself of the official reason why he was kicked out of the Smith's house.

Jana's reaction is priceless when he's resting an arm over her shoulders casually on the couch in the dark room and she walks in. She stops and takes an extra second to lightly sniff the area before narrowing her eyes, "Since when have you two been sleeping together?"

He'll forever remember the moment when Tom did an actual spit take and Shannon dropped her textbook. Maddy turned bright red then nudged him to say something but Rhydian knows he's gone because this whole thing is just too funny with Jana asking what's wrong and he seriously can't breathe it's just perfect miscommunication.

Despite having been kicked out to another house yet again, it's different.

This time, he feels like he's already at home.

I hope you enjoyed reading my 'I've-descended-into-Wolfblood-trash-don't-try-and-save-me' fanfiction because I definitely had too much fun writing it. The Wolfblood fandom has hit me hard with the feels for Maddian and even Maddy and Rhydian individually. (and then season 3 happened which was an insta-death and we're not going to mention season 4)...but the feels guys, the feels.

Please give feedback on if you liked it, and if you might want more one shots or fics of our favourite Wolfbloods! :)

-thatotherusernameiuse
(and yes i do have another account ^^)