A/N: Strong Language.
The first and only time since Deadpool, and Brett is as scared as fuck.
It's not because of the blood, or the frustration at not being able to heal this time. It's not the embarrasement of being helpless. It's not the limited movement that he has that makes him worried...
It's Mason.
Mason's been by his side, like a worn out human band aid. His hand [coated in blood] has been covered around the wound for around Twenty minutes. He watches him get up and take his shirt off. He tries to pull it apart. until the Were tells him to throw it over. He does, with the little strength that he has left he rips the shirt open. Mason holds it against his wound and wraps it firmly around his body.
It's odd, but with the fabric around his ribs, Brett finally feels like he can breathe. He taps the ground next to him. The human obediently sits by him, their tired arms are touching. Text messages are coming through from Liam and Scott. Mason types what he can, all the directions that he can remember.
"There's nothing to text. We got attacked by a dick-head wendigo that sealed us into a cave under god knows where"
"Be optimistic, Scott will find us soon"
"Optimism doesn't exist in packs Mase... Just survival" Brett snorted.
He sighed as Mason reached for his jacket. He was beginning to like the view. With the constant drama in the McCall pack, and the suffering of his own, he hadn't forgotten Mason completely, but asking him out had gotten to the bottom of his bucket list. It would be weird to ask questions now wouldn't it?
McCall would never say anything about Mason's private life and Liam would laugh in his face. Once upon a time, he thought about asking Malia, but he figured he'd get a tenacious kick in the balls before being told to fuck off.
"I'll buy you a new shirt, I promise" Brett said gritting his teeth.
"No need I wasn't a big fan of it anyway. It was a present from Lukas"
"I thought you chucked his shit out" Brett asked.
"Scott and I did, but I wasn't gonna throw away Abercombie and Fitch" Mason chuckled. "How are you feeling?"
"As Weak as fuck" Brett groaned.
"Just close your eyes and focus on your anchor...Hey, if you tell me who it is we'll both focus on them together" Mason said.
He grabbed the Were's hand and Brett laughed, but continued to hold his hand.
"Anchor? Take McCall's dick out of your mouth. Anchors are a myth, they're bull-shit"
"But Scott ..."
"McCall hasn't grown into a real Alpha yet. He's got no authority, Omega's treat him like shit and he just takes it. A drip like him, needs an anchor. When you turn or you can't control yourself, you have to depend on yourself, and no-one else. Trying to seek comfort in someone or something is fairy-tale fuckery, you can tell McCall that from me" Brett sneered.
"He doesn't have to ass-hole! We're here!" Liam shouted from the other side.