Words around me had been flipping in and out of focus until, "What do you say? Up for your first mission?" Looking around in surprise at once, the drink he'd been nursing sat all but forgotten as Dyson's words sunk into his brain and at once had his head whipping around to confirm who he'd been speaking to. Of course it couldn't apply to anyone else.

Mark at once said, "Yeah, What's the plan?"

And of course he didn't care. Mark being involved had nothing to do with the fact he was paying much closer attention now to whatever kamikaze plan those around him were discussing now, though he'd never admit this, it didn't concern him in any way of course while they spoke of the fact that everything had to have a weakness.

Then Bo made for the door, and his body began moving without his conscious following, like someone was mesmering him. Then he'd made his way to Dyson, and the words came tumbling out like he actually gave a damn. "Hey, you sure he's ready? The kid hasn't even shifted yet."

Dyson studied his face curiously, but even he wasn't sure what he'd find there. He still had his drink in one hand and had to fight the temptation to take a quick swig to play off the moment. Then Dyson said softly enough Mark wouldn't have heard, "Well he's gotta become a man sometime."

He watched after him before glancing over at Mark one more time, something in him being torn in half of wanting to go after Dyson and tell him he was being an idiot, and the more dominant part of him still asking his own brain what he thought he was doing. Why was any of this his concern, no one had even asked him to join in this mission thank, well not the gods, but still.

Then he glanced at Mark again, really studied him for the first time since he'd realized what the oracle had shown him. He'd honestly been denying it, but now as his gut did some odd little clench like he had to use the loo, it really occurred to him what was going on. He was worried.

That was stupid of course, he hadn't been worried about another person all his life, just because the kid could do a good blow obviosly didn't mean he couldn't find another. That hadn't even been him, for all he knew that wasn't the way he swung and he had literally imagined every single moment, and kept reimagining... What was he worried about again?

Still, that twisting wasn't leaving his innards as he continued to study him, so he called out to Mark who wasn't paying him any mind, "First mission eh? You gunna get yourself your very own vest?" Best to play this off as a joke, with any luck pushing this cras mood out would settle him some. Hurting others often did wonders for getting rid of his own pain, surely disinterest and jokes would be a substitute in the meantime.

Mark played along, saying, "please, god no."

He couldn't seem to help it, they both laughed.

It was that bubbling of noise coming out of him, that caught him so off guard, he didn't think about what came out next, "yeah well, gimme a call if you need back up alright?" He finally finished his drink, to at least play off any concern that held, which was none of course.

Mark had a smile on his face Vex couldn't read as he replied, "I'll call you if I get bored."

That was not a shot of thrill shooting through him, it couldn't be. It was just his mind flitting to what he did when he get bored, and how he hadn't really done much of it since his experience with Mark which hadn't been an experience, just an oracle screwing with him and the moment had yet to get out of his bleeding head. He quickly left before Mark could read anything off of him that most certainly shouldn't be there, missing his last expression as the Dal ate his dust.

...

Dust coated his pants again as he stumbled and made another beeline for the earth, but just as fast he forced his feet to continue working beneath him, he just had to get back to the Dal, he'd get help there. His body had other ideas, and the next thing he knew there was a less painful sensation in his face as he crashed to the ground. A noise escaped him he'd later deny as a groan of pain as he rolled onto his side, finally admitting defeat, he wasn't getting there on his own. His hand grappled for his phone, dragging it to his ear, his numb fingers searching for his dad's number.

The voice that answered was not the one he'd been expecting.

"Well, well, should I be flattered? The hosh posh party not up to your levels is it."

The slightly accented and certainly flippant tone took several beats longer than it should have for him to rasp out, "Vex?"

There was an odd pause on the other end that Mark was sure was just his failing senses not able to keep up anymore, surely that was his ears working off that put some new inflection into a voice he thought he was more familiar with. "Mark? You okay?"

It hurt to swallow, it hurt to do anything as his hand continued clenching tighter and more blood kept pouring out, the only conscious thing he knew he was doing anymore. Keep pressure on the wound.

"Mark?! Where are you?"

Had he hung up and dialed someone else? He didn't remember doing that, and he supposed that still sort of sounded like the same voice, but he most certainly had never heard Vex sound so panicky before. There was something so sharp about his tone though, that he answered on reflex, prattling off the last street sign he'd registered before he'd stumbled into the park. That's the last thing he remembered thinking.

...

Thinking it had been one thing, but now he could never again deny what was now walloping him with everything his body could. Panic, he was tearing through streets and not even caring it was going to leave him sweating as he forced himself to keep going faster, the phone still pressed to his ear all the time as he kept trying to listen to breathing on the other end instead of his own gasping breaths.

He nearly jumped right over his body as another hurdle in his way, then quickly skittered back and collapsed beside him, his phone had vanished into the grass as he grabbed hold of Mark's neck almost painfully, but he had no idea how to search for a pulse, had no bleeding idea what he was doing! That one stupid thought just kept jack hammering at his skull and it was hard to think past it, not him!

Ignoring his trembling hands, he hauled Mark up with him, keeping one firm hand onto his waist and the other so tightly around his shoulders he didn't care if he left bruises, he'd haul his arse back to the Dal if he had to crawl. In fact, he'd do one better, all he had to do was get him back to the road and force someone out of their car, why hadn't he thought of that to get here, oh right because he couldn't think past finding this little idiot and making sure the hot breath kept fluttering against his neck now, so long as that kept up-

His senses must have been on much higher alert than his actual mind, the sounds of approach at once had him glaring around prepared to have someone bite their own tongue off if they came anywhere near him. Then he spotted someone he never in his life would have been happy to see, and someone he nearly sobbed with relief to recognize.

Dyson sprinted into view first, and the moment the blond behind him registered he at once laid Mark down and turned to her, the question she asked him about him being here taking a few moments to register.

"He called," he panted, ignoring his red face, not even aware enough to pretend his heavy breathing had far more to do with the wild fear that still couldn't be forced away and nothing really to do with exertion.

Dyson at once demanded to know if he was okay, but Lauren ignored the question and demanded Dyson put pressure on the wound.

The father seemed frozen with shock, and Vex was a second away from forcing Dyson to comply and get him cooperating with whatever that doc wanted when he launched into action himself.

With both now actively looking after Mark, reality swiftly slammed back into him. He was doing no good hovering like some pitiful useless girlfriend, and there was no way he could continue just standing there and doing nothing. Despite his first instinct telling him to stay where Mark was, he had to know he was still breathing, he viciously forced that away and instead declared he was going to find more help. He just had to take a step back, get a breather without all the blood in his face, then surely he would calm down enough his own world would make sense again.

...

Again, breathe, sharp pain. Again, breathe, sharp pain. He felt cold, and not the kind you could just shrug on a jacket and ignore. Bone deep, an aching that permeated every drop of oxygen in his body, and though he knew it would be a bad idea, he tried moving himself away from that pain for even a second.

"Dyson, he's waking up!" He knew that voice, but for some reason a swell of disappointment shot off the cold for a moment at recognizing Lauren first. Hadn't there been someone else with him before...

The memory faded as soon as he tried to latch onto it, surely he'd just dreamed the part where Vex had arrived in a panicky mess and taken him somewhere safe. None of it made sense anyways, it was all a colorful blur of profanities and promises from that odd tone he'd never heard Vex use before, and surely never would. No, his mind must have been offering him that while he was bleeding to death, but that didn't erase what was real. He quickly told who had done this to him, and at once tried to sit up to find her, despite his bodies horrid protest.

Those around him were just as keen as his body on keeping him where he was, the sharp pain of before turning into an open flame on his wound so hot breathing began more painful than ever, and yet somehow he kept feeling colder.

Bo's question of where Iris could be hardly registered, but somehow he managed to string together an answer. The conversation of what I told them happened in a blur, the chills and pain made it hard to concentrate on telling anything, he couldn't even remember the exact words the moment they came out.

Most of them left after he was done telling of where they might find Iris next, except for the man he didn't know. Some instinct in him was rearing to protest he not be left alone with this guy, but some higher reasoning exclaimed he wouldn't be in here if his father didn't find him at least safe, and he was just too tired to argue any farther then that as he slipped back off.

...

Off again, then back on. It had taken me a bleeding hour to go find this stupid thing in that park again, odd how I'd found him in moments at that huge place but something as important to me as my phone had taken every bit of my concentration to pick it back out of the grass again. Least no one had the stupidity of stealing it.

Off again, then back on. I should just call him, we hadn't really hung out together, but we were considered friends, right? So it wouldn't be weird for me to just call up and ask how he was doing. Course I couldn't go asking anyone else though, I knew they'd found it odd enough I was the one who'd found him, surely they'd ask when I popped by again and I really had no good answer, for anyone, not even myself.

Okay, I had an answer, but it wasn't one I liked. Surely that bloody bartender had to be wrong, 'the person our heart most desires.' Bah, sure Mark was a nice arse, but he wasn't the first or last, and for crying out loud he was Dyson's brood. I hated that kid on principle, that old wolf was a self righteous bastard and his pup was going the same way. Or well, he would have thought, but each time he'd managed to have a chat with Mark he'd actually seemed like fun. Not that one moment in particular counted of course, because that hadn't been real, just god's messing with his head. In all honesty, once Bo did her thing like she always did and all this God's nonsense was done, that damned bloodrush to his nethers would finally vanish for good and this problem would all go away.

He tried readjusting his pants, forcing his mind to look past this feeling to some other face, and when that didn't work, to at least focus on the idea it wouldn't last. That only managed to cause yet another unfamiliar emotion to him, regret. He didn't want to try thinking of that.

Fine, he couldn't deny he cared about Mark anymore, he wasn't stupid after all. It still didn't mean he had to do anything about it. He'd had infatuations before, this was clearly a case of wanting the thing he couldn't have. The moment he got his real moment with Mark, all of these stupid, feelings would finally disappear and he could go on about his way.

Off again, then back on. He was going to end up breaking his phone from switching back and forth, and he didn't care. He tried to concentrate very hard on that emotion, of not caring about his stupid phone. It was nothing special, easily replaceable, not on the back of his mind since- he got to his feet for the movement alone, he wasn't going anywhere. His phone successfully lay forgotten, finally, because he was right, he didn't care about that. The constant motion had been the reason his hand was starting to go crazy, a quick trip up to visit the doctor's office could only be of help.

...

Helpful was not a word he'd usually apply to Vex, but that's certainly what he ended up being once he got out of the hospital. What was more odd was how reluctant he seemed to be about it, like someone was the one mesmering him to offer help and company with even the most menial tasks. At first he'd just laughed it off, honestly considering his dad had put him up to it or something to keep an extra eye on him, then he noticed Vex mysteriously vanished whenever Dyson appeared in the same room as him.

Mark really couldn't put a finger on the guy, figuratively and literally. The few times their skin had accidentally brushed together, unavoidable when you spend time with anyone, Vex would pause and stare at him for a moment before taking a step back and giving him an odd smile while pressing on loudly with whatever the conversation had been.

So the pattern continued right up until they were all in an RV fighting for their life. When his dad had asked him how many of those elders Vex could control at once, and the only response that had been given was that Vex was about to find out, it felt like a light switch had been flicked on in his brain. Vex wasn't shy with anyone, except when he considered what he was saying before he answered anything Mark ever asked him. Vex was surly and all around unpleasant to everyone around him, except whenever he smiled when their eyes first met in a room. It felt ridiculous he hadn't realized it all sooner, that Vex lied to everyone, even him. That hadn't been Evony the night of the Oracles- and then they were fighting, and Vex could clearly control quite a few of their enemies, more than either him or his dad would have originally given him credit for.

Not only that, but he watched both of the shifters backs. Any time that tingling went off right at the base of his skull, forewarning an attack moments before a blow would land, the body went sailing away and Vex was forced to pivot and return to his own fight after saving his or Dyson's backs.

Like always when he, Dyson, and Vex were in the same room together, Vex didn't wait long to excuse himself and leave, but for the first time I followed. For the first time I realized how the conversation's in the past must have felt to him, because to me for the whole thing I felt an electric charge pulsing between us. There wasn't really a question as I held out my hand for his, and his willing answer was finally what I expected of him.

...

"Him?" Dyson demanded, and if the situation hadn't been so serious, I normally would have busted a gut laughing. It didn't help that we hadn't exactly told him, so much as he'd walked in on us, but in our defense we'd thought he'd gone. Yes that was a poor defense, but I haven't bothered trying to defend any of my actions lately around Mark so I was a bit rusty at it.

To Mark's credit though he didn't back down even with his pants down. He mirrored, unintentionally I was sure, his father by crossing his arms over his chest and matching him glare for glare. "You know, maybe I would have told you before this if I hadn't known this was exactly how you'd react. Yes Dyson, him."

The untrained eye couldn't see it, but sadly I'd been hanging around the wolf long enough that I noticed the small frown he got for not just my involvement in this. Mark had actually come to calling Dyson his father as of late, and only reverted back when he was in a particularly volatile mood. It did seem to press the seriousness of the situation, but it didn't stop me from subtly flipping up the collar of my shirt to less expose my throat as his eyes still managed to flash yellow at me.

The scariest part was I could see it from his point of view, he had come in on us in ah, a compromising position more on Mark's part than mine, and I really wouldn't put it past Dyson to think I'd be doing this to his kid for some sort of petty revenge though the thought of even that implication set something vile rising thick in the back of my throat.

"Stop it," Mark insisted, and a bit of that black panther I loved so much started edging into the snarl as he kept himself planted in between the pair of us. Most of my feelings for him were still new to me, like the protective surge that hit me again I hadn't felt since that damned Hades fight we'd all been in. I knew Dyson wouldn't really hurt Mark, but Mark would get in the way if Dyson went for me like he was very clearly thinking, and that set me on edge and my hand aching on instinct.

"I mean it Dyson," that feral edge still hadn't quite tuned out even after Dyson's eyes returned to normal color, "he's my mate, and you're going to have to accept that."

The word sent an extra hard thud against my chest like our past few months had yet to do. We had been seeing each other, exclusively to my surprise considering this was the first real relationship I'd ever been in and I'd still no desire to step elsewhere, but I'd never even referred to him as my boyfriend. Now here he was declaring me as his life partner. Yet the fear I expected to come swelling up in me at such an intimate phrase didn't rise, instead I kept my face cool and leaned back casually against the barrel, meeting Dyson's disapproving look with a faux sneer and a challenging gaze. He would never like me, of that much would always be clear, but in that moment I saw some grudging respect cross his features as he looked between the pair of us pushing back at him. He walked back out without another word.