Zoke Week, Prompt 4: Secrets

This AU is based on concepts I've discussed on Tumblr for a while. I kind of wish I could flesh it out into a multi-chapter fic, but I don't know if I have the drive or ideas. Instead, I've written a teaser, and maybe someday I can flesh it out further. But no promises.

The young mage-in-training, a teenage girl named Zoey, stood on the outskirts of town and stared at the tiny shack where Mike lived.

Zoey had met Mike two seasons ago, while the summer sun still beat brutally down on the village. He'd appeared in town without announcement one day, standing among the street performers who hung around the town square that Zoey passed every morning on her way to her classes. He'd shout out jokes to passersby, often using his voice to mimic local public figures and stereotypes. He wasn't the most popular performer in the square, often drowned out by the musicians and people who used flattery to get attention from the crowd, but he still seemed to make enough money from his work to support a living. Zoey greatly enjoyed his jokes and always liked supporting the performers, so she'd often throw a few coins into his cup on her way by. Most performers would move on after a week or two, either to shill in another town or to take a more permanent job, but Mike stuck around long enough that he began recognizing Zoey every time she came to give him some money.

"Another donation? Thanks so much! You're too kind to me!"

Eventually, Mike grew comfortable enough to make small talk whenever Zoey approached, and Zoey began leaving her home ten minutes earlier so she'd have time to stick around and chat. He introduced himself as a drifter, who settled in this town at random although he had no family in the area. At first this solitary lifestyle, plus the lines of stress on his face, led Zoey to believe he was much older, but he soon clarified that he was only a teenager and had been on his own long enough that he'd gotten used to it. At first she was happy to know that her new friend was her age, but this selfish joy quickly made way for pity; things must have been lonely for the poor young man. Mike admitted during one of their talks that he'd normally move on by now, but he wanted to stay and get to know the pretty, generous girl who showed him so much kindness for all those weeks. Medical problems prevented him from holding a permanent job, so his comedy work was all he had to support himself, and normally his routines would get old and the money would dry up before long. But Zoey's contributions, plus the occasional donation from others who pitied his vague medical situation, helped him stay afloat. In turn, Zoey explained how she'd been attending magic school for two years and hoped to be a full mage someday. She still lived with her parents, who helped support her, but she contributed to the household by picking up work as a huntress and using her magic to keep predators, especially the large werewolf population from the nearby forest, away from the local farms. As the pair got to know each other better, they soon began spending individual time together after she finished classes and assignments and after Mike felt he'd made enough money for the day. They'd walk on Mike's favorite trails, they'd eat dinner together from Zoey's favorite recipes, and they'd talk for hours about anything that came to their minds. Before long, Zoey found herself falling in love with this mysterious young man, and Mike happily returned the favor. However, even after they'd established a relationship, Mike set a few ground rules for Zoey's interactions with him.

He didn't like to talk about his medical history, so he'd prefer if she didn't ask any questions about that. In fact, there were a lot of questions about his past he didn't want to answer, and he hoped she could accept non-answers. Sometimes his illness would keep him home bound; she was not to worry about him or try to get him help, because he knew how to take care of himself, didn't want to sacrifice that bit of independence, and he'd be back in the square after a week or so.

And most importantly, she was to never come to his home uninvited.

But outside his home she stood, so focused on it that she could ignore the blistering winds that whipped snow all around her. This was the sixth time he'd fallen ill in as many months, and she couldn't help but worry about him. What sort of illness would claim him so constantly, and why wouldn't he accept her help?

Despite everything he'd said before, she found herself wondering if he only told her to stay away to avoid feeling like a burden. What if in reality, he sat in his bedroom, racked by pain and loneliness, and wished someone would comfort him? She couldn't just let his pride continue to hurt him that way. Even if she wasn't very advanced in healing magic and likely couldn't do much to ease his suffering, she still wanted to be there for her beloved to offer some kind words and perhaps some soup.

With her mind made up, Zoey knocked on the door. To her surprise, it swung right open with her knock, having not been latched properly the last time someone came through. No candles had been lit, so looking into the room provided no view but that of a dark abyss. She cupped her hands over the bauble she wore around her neck, and after murmuring a chant, the bauble lit up and filled the room with its warm glow. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary in Mike's sparsely decorated living room. A dining table with two mismatched chairs and a dirty, tattered couch sat where they always did whenever Mike would invite her inside. The room held no hiding places due to its small size, so Zoey quickly determined that Mike wasn't in here.

But perhaps he was upstairs? That'd make sense if he was sick. Her poor Mike, lying in pain on his bed, too ill to even make it down the stairs...

The light from her bauble followed her as she made her way to the staircase. The stairs creaked as she walked up them; this house was in such disrepair, and it always made Zoey uneasy, as if any day now a stair would give way and her foot would fall through. However, despite her fear, she'd been up and down these stairs so often that she'd come to expect the unsettling sounds and the way the rotted wood would sometimes sink under her foot.

But never before had the faint smell of blood infiltrated her nostrils once she made it partway up the stairs.

Panicked thoughts raced through Zoey's mind at that scent. What had happened to Mike?! Did someone break in and hurt him in his weakened state? Was that why the door was still open? The vile smell only grew stronger as she made it further up, and she quickened her pace, suddenly uncaring about whether or not the wood finally splintered as it had threatened to do for months. She made it to the top and turned toward Mike's bedroom door. Now that she looked down, she could see that a trail of dried blood covered the floor from the stairs to the door, and continued on under the closed door. What happened here? Did Mike struggle? Did he need help?! Zoey held her breath in an effort to stop taking in any more of that scent then necessary, then quickly flung open the mercifully unlocked door.

She screamed at the pile of bones that sat by Mike's bedside.

The bedspread and pillows sat perfectly arranged on the bed, with no sign of Mike in it. No blood stained the sheets; it looked to all the world like an average, unused bed. And yet, feet away, a huge puddle of dried blood spread on the floor where Mike normally kept a rug. Instead, the rug had been moved – to where, Zoey couldn't see – and replaced with a pile of bones. After suppressing her urge to vomit long enough to examine them closer, she could recognize that they weren't human bones; if she had to guess, she'd suppose they belonged to a goat.

She sighed in relief that they weren't human bones.

But what were they doing here?

Zoey turned to examine the rest of the room in hopes of finding more clues to Mike's whereabouts – and less importantly, but still important, to the origin of all of what she sorely hoped was goat blood. The sight in the corner drew out an even louder scream from her, loud enough to break her concentration and plunge the room into darkness. She frantically clutched at her chest, searching for her bauble. Once her trembling hands finally got a grip on it without it slipping out of her hands, she quickly murmured her light chant again. The renewed light proved to her that the sight in the corner wasn't a mirage; it really sat there, in flesh and blood and fur.

A werewolf sat in the corner of Mike's bedroom.

Zoey's first instincts told her that this beast was the culprit; that he'd broken into this house in search of a meal. But if this creature was so violent as to do that, wouldn't he have pounced her the moment she entered the room, rather than stay quiet and hide from her? Further investigation led her to examine the wolf's clothing. He wore a turquoise shirt, Mike's favorite color, and dark blue pants much like a pair she'd often seen Mike wear. A large tuft of hair, black like the rest of his fur, sat atop the wolf's head and stuck out in a very familiar manner; the memory of trying and failing to flatten hair like that with her hand filled Zoey's mind.

"Mike?" she whispered.

The wolf's ears folded down, and a high-pitched whining noise emanated from his closed snout.

"Is that... is that you?" she continued speaking, her nerves preventing her voice from gaining much volume.

The wolf whined again and looked down at the floor like a scolded puppy. He drew his knees up to cover his face and wrapped his arms around them, plus his tail around his ankles.

Zoey took a few more steps toward the wolf, but the wolf didn't respond to her approach. The more she looked at him as she approached, the more sure she became.

This was Mike. This was the illness he hid from her for so long.

She crouched down in front of him to try to meet him on eye level, although he continued to hide his face.

"Mike? It's okay," she told him.

Mike slowly lifted his head and stared into her eyes. In all her training and experiences with hunting, Zoey had learned that lycanthropy could turn the gentlest, sweetest people into ruthless killing machines, with all their emotions and memories stripped away. Never did she consider that a werewolf might look into her eyes with so much fear and guilt. Werewolves weren't supposed to feel. They were supposed to kill.

But even through the thick fur and large fangs, when she looked into the eyes of this 'beast', she immediately saw Mike.

"It's okay," she repeated as she ran her hand down his cheek. "I'm not afraid."

Mike's eyes widened and his ears stuck up straight. He barked questioningly, which Zoey responded to by resting her other hand on his other cheek.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" she asked.

Mike slowly nodded. He leaned forward and rubbed his snout against the side of her face, then left her side and walked on all fours over to the rug that he'd moved to this side of the room. He curled his body into a crescent shape on the rug, and once he'd made himself comfortable, he lifted his arm and looked at Zoey.

"You want me to come over there?" she asked. After he confirmed with another nod, Zoey accepted his invitation and laid by Mike's side. He gently draped his arm around her and pulled her close, careful to not even touch her with his claws, and protectively curled his body around her. Zoey cuddled up to his chest like she had so many times before. This time had its obvious differences; he was so much bigger than her now, and his soft fur covered her like a blanket. But his body still provided the same warmth and security it always had.

"I love you," she assured him as she closed her eyes.

Mike hugged her tighter, still managing his own strength enough to not hurt her, and pressed his snout against her hair. She broke her concentration with her bauble in order to turn it off, and in the darkness, the pair drifted off to sleep.

Mike groaned as the sunlight filtered through his window and hit his closed eyes. He wasn't at all ready to wake up yet. The sleep that filled his eyes still felt comfortable, and besides, he still had Zoey's soothing warmth pressed against him. Yes, she likely had classes that morning, and he couldn't skip any more days than necessary down in the performance square, since he relied on every little coin he got to survive. But just five more minutes in her embrace sounded like the best thing he could have right now. He smiled in his half-sleeping state and happily wagged his tail at the thought of staying like this.

Wait, tail?

CRAP!

Mike jerked out of Zoey's embrace and jumped to his feet, now fully awake from the rush of adrenaline. In the daylight, his wolf form had mostly faded away, removing his snout and the fur that covered his skin and returning his lanky limbs to him. However, even though he looked mostly human, he still retained enough of his wolf features for him to not want Zoey to see him like this. A set of wolf ears sat atop his head, mostly blended in with his thick hair, and a fluffy black tail extended from his tailbone. His hands and feet had somewhat retained their normal size, but his palms and soles still held paw pads, and his nails remained long and curved like his wolf form's claws.

Mike clutched his head and tried to remember the previous night. He'd transformed just as he expected, and he'd sneaked out to steal some livestock as he always did. It wasn't an activity he enjoyed having to do, but it wasn't as if a wolfman could walk into the butcher shop and order some dinner. He'd brought the goat home, stripped off all the meat he could, and then settled in his corner to get some rest.

And then Zoey had walked in.

Why had Zoey walked in? Hadn't he told her, every time he asked, to never come here without his permission? He hadn't had any time to clean up or cover all the blood!

At first she reacted the exact way he expected her to react when faced with a pile of clean-picked bones. If only he could forget the fear and disgust that crossed her face... then she turned to him and screamed. He was so sure she'd run away after that, or attack him like her training dictated.

But instead...

"It's okay."

"I'm not afraid."

"I love you."

She took learning that her boyfriend was a monster a lot better than he'd hoped.

Unless she was just waiting until he got his voice back to let him down gently...

Zoey stirred in her sleep, and with a yawn and a stretch of her arms, brought herself into sitting position. Her eyes slowly opened, and with them still half-lidded, she gazed up at Mike. His ears instinctively flattened and his tail tucked between his legs as he waited for her reaction. A scream, a threat, a hasty excuse and retreat...

"I wasn't dreaming last night," was all she had to say.

Mike shook his head. "Neither was I. You... you actually came last night. I told you not to."

"I got worried," Zoey said as she rose to her feet. "Knowing you were sick so often... I just wanted to help... I didn't think..."

"Maybe I should have told you..." Mike said. "I just thought... you're so sweet and amazing, but... you're also a werewolf huntress, and... and I thought... maybe you'd hate me... I love you so much, and the idea of losing you... I couldn't stand it..." He grabbed his arms and shivered. "Zoey? I'm scared. I've been scared for a long time."

Zoey pulled his trembling form into her arms and squeezed him tight. "I could never hate you," she said as she rubbed his back. "Do you want to talk about this? I know you've been hiding a lot from me. Is there anything else you want to tell me?"

"Y-yeah..." Mike stuttered through the voice of tears that wouldn't come. "Let's sit. I'll talk." Mike led her to the edge of his bed, and the two sat down. Mike's ears still stayed down-turned and his tail immediately curled close to his body; his stress had taken away any control of those parts. "When I was growing up, things were... difficult. My family didn't always have a lot of money, especially since dad kept spending it all on booze... my parents fought a lot about money, and they were so focused on their own issues that I got forgotten about, I guess. I was constantly hungry and alone in my own house. I couldn't live like that. So on my thirteenth birthday, after deciding that they wouldn't even notice, I left. I wasn't sure where I was going or what I was gonna do when I got there, but I left. And on one of my first nights out..." Mike rolled up the sleeve of his shirt to show Zoey his shoulder. Two long scars curved over his shoulder; they'd healed as best they could, with no more scabbing, but the scar tissue, colored in a sickly mix of red and purple, still raised up from the rest of his shoulder. "A werewolf bit me while I was out on the run. I still don't know how I survived... I remember running in a blind panic, without much awareness of what was going on, and eventually losing the wolf. I'm just lucky it wasn't a whole pack, I guess. I thought that'd be the end of it, but I woke up the next morning with these features, and when night fell, I transformed all the way..." Mike drew his knees up to the bed and hugged them again, his usual reaction to fear. "I'd always heard that werewolves completely lose themselves when they transform and don't remember their actions, but for the most part, I remember and control everything. I've had a few nights that I don't remember, but I've never hurt anyone... at least, I don't think I have."

"So, that definitely isn't human blood?" Zoey asked, pointing at the puddle on the floor.

Mike laughed and shook his head. "Nah, just dinner. Can't exactly go to a restaurant when I'm trying to hide this thing," he said as he poked at his tail. "I feel bad stealing livestock, but the wolf has a pretty big appetite. I can't just ignore it for a week.

"Dinner isn't the only thing the tail prevented me from getting... at first, I was afraid that it'd never go away, but my wolf features fade entirely once the full moon is gone, and I'm safe for another few weeks. But that's not going to help me get a job. When I first ran away, I had vague dreams of maybe finding a theater house somewhere and joining an acting troupe, but that's not going to happen when I have to hide these features. One hint of a tail from me and I'll have a silver knife in my heart before I can protest. That's when I discovered performance squares. They work perfect, hours-wise – I can tell my jokes and practice characters whenever I look 'normal', and no one notices when a performer vanishes for a few days, because the lineup changes so often anyway. It's not a lot of money, but it's enough. Especially when I don't pay for food as a wolf. And especially because you were so generous," Mike said with a smile. "I've been chased out of towns before because I couldn't get home before a transformation or because someone caught me stealing sheep, and some places, I left before trouble could come because I didn't want anyone to recognize my face from stories from other towns... but then I met you, and despite my instincts, I couldn't just leave you without a word. I wanted to stay here with you. But I also didn't want you to know about me... I guess I knew my lies would fall apart eventually, but I hoped that maybe, they wouldn't, and I could actually be normal..."

"But now I know," Zoey said. "And I still want you to stay. That is, if you want to stay."

"As long as you're here, I never want to leave town." Mike wrapped his arms around Zoey, careful to manage his claws like he was the previous night, and rested his head on her shoulder. "You're the most accepting person I've ever met... I never thought someone could actually accept a beast like me."

"How could I not?" she asked. "You're still Mike, right?"

"Yeah, I suppose I am," Mike said with a small smile. "I just wish there was something I could do about this... I hate being cooped up. I wish I could go outside without judgment..."

Zoey paused in thought. "Maybe I could help? I've been studying werewolves, and people must trust my knowledge if they trust me to fight them off. Maybe I could convince them that some werewolves can keep control? My teacher insists that's not possible, so I don't know what makes you a special case, but if you could come with me to prove you can handle yourself, I think people would trust you. They trust Mike the comedian. Why not Mike the wolf?"

"I guess it's worth a shot. What if I could help you with your hunting? I'm strong when I'm fully transformed, so I can fight. It'd be like paying a debt, in a way. Since I'm a wolf myself, maybe I'd be good at fighting them off. Especially when I have a strong mage like you backing me up. I don't want you telling people about me yet... but maybe I can do that when I'm ready." He then lifted his head and looked out the window. "The sun's getting pretty high. Do you have classes today?"

"Oh no!" Zoey leaped to her feet, inadvertently shoving Mike to the side as she did. "I still have to go home to get my things! And after class I have a guarding job, I need get ready for that, too! Oh, I'm going to be late! Mike, I'm sorry, I need to go!"

"Will you come back?" Mike asked. "You already know what I was trying to hide, so I don't have any reason for you to stay away anymore. And I really want you to come see me. Sitting in the corner waiting for my tail to go away is boring."

"I'll come by after class and work," Zoey said. "And I'll bring you some dinner, okay? So no sheep tonight. The last thing I want is to find out you got caught stealing livestock from an angry farmer with a shotgun."

"Trust me, I've run from enough shotgun shells. I understand the fear." He looked up at her hopefully. "Can you bring me some goat meat?"

"If the butcher has any, I will," Zoey said. "Maybe I can bring you some books, too? Give you something to do?"

"Can't," Mike answered as he raised one of his hands. "Can't turn pages with these claws."

"So you really do just sit? Mike, I'm so sorry! Don't worry, I'll come back for you as soon as possible!" She leaned down and kissed his mouth, and once more without his willing it, his ears and tail acted, this time by sticking up straight. He gently hugged her, holding his hands awkwardly to avoid clawing her as always, and then let go.

"Get going," Mike said. "I don't want you to be late."

"I'll see you tonight!" Zoey called as she turned and ran out the door.

"I love you!" Mike called after her. She didn't respond; he wasn't even sure if she heard him. He understood her rush, though, and so didn't hold it against her. Instead, he sprawled out on his bed and prepared himself for another brain-numbing day of sitting in silence.

But this time, he knew Zoey would come back for him. Hopefully, that would make the wait easier.