Blinding white light flooded the SUV and obliterated the sheltering darkness. Tyres squealed as the vehicle swerved madly, the men trapped inside were shouting, screaming. The level of noise was grating yet through it all he could still hear his uncle growling incoherently like a pissed off grizzly bear.
Bilingual cursing in French and English and bitten off swear words floated through the air, but for some odd reason he was completely silent as he was flung head-first like a discarded toy doll against the back seat passenger window. The impact pain was stunning. God that hurt, that hurt so much, he actually felt sick. He could almost feel the egg sized bump forming on his forehead already.

He couldn't control his own body. Something that he had always had to deal with but now, he felt like a bubble in a can of soda which had been shaken. He couldn't stop the movement, he rolled inside the car in tandem with the car's own violent bouncing. His shin caught stocky Daniels in the neck. The man's groan was loud even in the mad cacophony of the inside of the out of control lurching, bouncing rolling car.
Crichton the dick elbowed his nose. Rene was ninety nine point nine percent certain that the blow was deliberate rather than caused by the roll of the vehicle. Crichton was a nasty shit and he had made it clear that he didn't like Rene, on more than one memorable occasion.
Rene just felt god damn lucky that he hadn't been flung to the front to land on top of Connors the unlucky driver. He have probably broken the poor bastard's neck.

He wanted to shut his eyes to stop the mad real life merry-go-round, but god damn it, they wouldn't listen to him, they wouldn't close, they couldn't be more wide open if he had used super-glue and matchsticks in some mad craft project, and now he was watching everything with an ever deepening horror. He felt hard hands try to grab him to stop his tumbling but it was to no avail. He was going to puke, he knew he was.

The world tilted and time seemed to slow as the vehicle twisted and twirled in an elegant bouncing roll, over and over. Metal crunched and groaned, glass cracked and smashed as screams echoed in his head. His frantic brain compartmentalised everything again. The logical part, the very small logical part that was trying to understand what was happening, unlike the rest of his mind which had retreated into panic stricken terror, acknowledged that the screams were from his own throat.

Oh God, if his Grandfather found out that he was showing weakness in a crisis, he would be so angry. Bad things happened when his Grandfather was angry. If his Grandfather saw him now, the fallout didn't bear thinking about.

He had to shut up. He had to keep quiet. He had to be quiet. No screaming no whimpering. He was an Argent, he had to behave like one. There were standards to uphold. Shut up Rene shut up shut up shut up, his terrified brain shrieked at him.

Another jarring roll and the door that he had been flung against gave way, crumpling as easy as a sheet of paper under the pressure, brisk cold night air filling the Rene shaped vacuum of the car that his involuntary departure to the outside had left. He was flying through the air, helpless, a brittle leaf in a hurricane with the same level of control over his own body. He rarely had any control over his flailing limbs and thin body. Something else that triggered his Grandfather's deep, unremitting and unforgiving disappointment. But this sheer helplessness was something else entirely.

His Grandfather had thought Rene was clumsy and uncoordinated on purpose and Rene had suffered for that belief, extra physical training with his equally unimpressed instructors before Gerard had finally relented and allowed Rene to be examined by one of the Argent family's tame physicians.

Gerard had not condoned the diagnosis of ADHD and had insisted on more training and discipline to get Rene to shape up until his Uncle Christophe had found out about the diagnosis from the family's medic and demanded that Rene be given the proper treatment. Chris Argent had stormed into his father's office and there had been "words".

Not that Rene had been eavesdropping, no sir, not Rene Benoit Argent. Meek obedient cowed Rene wouldn't possibly be hiding in the supply room above the office which shared the same antique creaky plumbing pipes that had the kind of acoustic capabilities that transmitted most of what was said in the office below.
So of course he wouldn't, couldn't know that his Uncle Chris had told his Grandfather that he would take Rene away with him if he didn't give the boy the medication. As he hadn't been listening in to that conversation there was no way that Rene could have felt the pain of hope for the first time in years, of course hope hadn't burned through his heart and mind and little body that he could go and live with his Uncle and Aunt, instead of having to stay with his Grandfather and his Mother.
Rene had learnt to be grateful for his Uncle's intervention, but for a little while he had hated his Uncle Chris with all the conviction that his eight year old self could manage, hated, hated, absolutely hated his Uncle Christophe for leaving him there.
Uncle Christophe was a hunter, he was supposed to notice things that weren't …normal. Why hadn't Uncle Chris noticed, why hadn't he just seen what was… but Rene knew better than to finish that sentence, even in the rare silence of his own chaotic head.

Because Rene was afraid that his life was normal, that it was all his fault for being such a disappointment, such a failure, so of course he didn't deserve any other kind of life. It was what it was and Rene lived with it. After waiting for so long for someone to notice, someone to care he knew better now than to expect anything else.

His Grandfather still curled his lip in disdain every time he saw Rene take a tablet but the old man couldn't deny that Rene had "improved" since he had been allowed the medication.

Even though the old man made sure that Rene knew he would never be good enough to be an Argent.

Rene's unexpected flight through the cool night air felt like it was in slow motion and in a strange way, almost calm. It would almost have been enjoyable if it had lasted longer but then in a blink of an eye, normal time kicked in as his ribs and head crashed into an immovable object.

Fuck his life, had he just been mugged by a god damn tree? Even the fucking flora had it in for him. Oh God he was losing it. He had finally lost his god damn mind. He sniggered slightly at that wonderful thought and then the vicious pain burst through his body like a tidal wave. He couldn't help it, the sharp elemental scream and then the continuous whimpering left his mouth without his permission.

He just couldn't stop it. God he was so pathetic, even now after all his Grandfather's training, he was still such a pathetic loser, he didn't deserve to have the name Argent, no wonder Gerard and his mother Kate were so disappointed in him. He was so ashamed. He was a disgrace, it was the reason why most of his family hated him.

His Cousin Alison, Uncle Christophe and Aunt Victoria's only child, would have been able to stay silent, Alison would be able to get up and walk away from this. Alison would have made his Mom and his Grandfather proud in this situation.

Pretty Perfect Princess Argent who was adored by everyone, even his own Mom. Kate spent more time with Alison than she did with her son when she was home after her hunts.

But Rene didn't love Alison, not any more, he had learnt how stupid loving her was a long time ago and he damn well knew better than to trust her now. For a long time he had thought she was his best friend, his only friend because Rene was home schooled and Alison was the only child he was allowed to be near. BFFs were supposed to keep secrets weren't they? That's what the shows on TV said when he was allowed to watch them. Another reason he had adored Alison, it was only when Alison and her parents were visiting, that he had been allowed to watch TV, and sweet baby Jesus had he made the most of it. He had watched everything he could. His young life had always been that much better when Alison was around so of course he had thought she was his best friend. Young Rene had equated Alison's visits with good things, with pleasure, with happiness. Just like one of Pavlov's pathetic pups.

And then he had ruined it all. When they had been ten he had told her a secret, he hadn't meant too but he had been hiding and trying to hold back his tears after a lesson with his Mom and Gerard and he had blurted it out without thinking because it had hurt, everywhere, he hurt everywhere when Alison had tried to give him a hug.

But Alison had got angry at him and called him a liar then went to tell his Mom. That had been the scariest day of his life and he hadn't been allowed to play with Alison any more after he had been made to apologise for lying. Every time he met Alison after that, he could see the scorn in her eyes although she was always perfectly polite. Pretty Perfect Polite and Poisonous Princess Argent. No he didn't love her, he knew better than to love anyone. It just meant that he was easier to hurt.

He was perhaps fond of his Uncle Christophe but didn't think he loved him. Uncle Christophe for all his strength as a hunter, was weak. He tried to avoid family unpleasantness, so he ignored things unless they were thrust under his nose and impossible to overlook. Rene had found that being overlooked was the best way to survive in the Argent family or perhaps it was the least painful. He didn't question it, he was just relieved that he had found something that worked.

No the only ambition that Rene had was to be the best Argent he could be. He would prove it to his Grandfather and his Mom one day. He would out perfect the Princess. Well it was something to aim for and focus on when he couldn't sleep because of the pain of another physical training session. He was damn good with a knife these days and a freaking great shot with a handgun, after all the solitary practice on their private range. It helped to counteract the times if he was mostly used as punch bag in the hand to hand training sessions he had to endure with the biggest and meanest of the Argent's hunters, like Crichton. Crichton liked to kick his butt especially after the one time Rene had managed to catch the bastard off guard and put him down. Gerard had laughed at Crichton's clumsiness instead of congratulating his grandson but Rene cherished the memory of the expression on the douchebag's face when he realised what Rene had done to him. It had been even better than curly fries, and Rene adored curly fries.

Before he finally and thankfully passed out, in the sudden silence as the vehicle rocked to a grinding halt some distance away, he heard his normally imperturbable Uncle Chris cursing a blue streak. There was pain and frantic fear lancing his voice as he shouted "Rene, Rene where are you kid? Speak to me, Rene. Goddamn it, we need to find him, move yourselves and find my nephew. I want him found now damn you".

Rene wanted to answer, wanted to call out to his Uncle. The pain was excruciating but he knew he had to shout for help. He tried to raise his head and the pain overwhelmed him. He faded into nothingness before he could even open his mouth.

Rene didn't know how much time had passed before he regained some level of consciousness. He lay there in the darkness staring up at the starry velvet black sky beneath a canopy of leafless trees. He could feel the cold hard ground dig into his back with spitefully placed little rocks but it didn't matter. He drew in a deep shuddering painful breath and nearly coughed his lungs up but that didn't matter either. He was entranced with the view. It was so beautiful even if he could barely make the stars out. He had lost his glasses. At some point during his mad tumble they had flown off his face. He didn't get the chance often to just look at things. His Grandfather could not abide laziness in any form, he didn't like it when Rene was not gainfully occupied with his training or his research.

It wasn't wise to let Gerard think he was being lazy, there were consequences, painful brutal consequences to disappointing Gerard.

He knew he needed to get up, to try to call out for help. He could feel how cold his limbs were, he was probably going into shock. He opened his mouth to call for his Uncle but only a soft sob could get past his dry throat after squeezing at his ribs like a vice.

Faintly in the background, he could hear the sounds of shots and his Uncle barking orders, firmly entrenched in Hunter mode, then the voices faded as if they were running away from him.

Panic hit as he realised that the Hunters were after something and they had left him here alone. Dear God, he didn't even have the energy or lung capacity to call out for help. What the hell were they chasing? The trouble with being the family researcher was that he knew every freaking big bad and ugly out there and what they could do to a defenceless human. The kind of defenceless human lying on his back in the forest with no breath to shout and in too much pain to move to get to the knife hidden in his boot. God have mercy because no big bad would.

His heart began to pound, and his breath became short desperate pants. Darkness seeped into his vision. No, no not now, not a panic attack. Please God, not now. He couldn't have one now, and for once in his short hard life, it seemed like his body was actually obeying him. He concentrated on the slow gulping breaths entering his mouth and the painful forced push of the air leaving his struggling lungs.

It took him long moments to calm down again, until his heart beat stopped pounding like a manic drum in his ears, and the tears stopped leaking softly down his cheeks. He sighed with despair, Sweet baby Jesus he was utterly and completely pathetic.

It would just be his luck if his bad ass Uncle Christophe found him like this.

Rene knew exactly what he would see, 147 pounds of weak pale pitiful cry baby teenager who couldn't even look after his own skinny ass, who had to lie there in tears and wait for help.

His desperate thoughts came to a sudden shrieking halt when in the silence he heard the noise.

His heartbeat spiked with fear at the sound of rustling behind him as if something determined was making its way through the undergrowth. Please God let it be a squirrel, not something that fancied snacking on a bleeding bruised and battered skinny short sighted incapacitated teenager. God he didn't even have the energy to try to move his body to check it out.

He hurt all over and his vision was still blurry, his glasses had been flung off his face and his hand groped weakly through the rough grass and stones near his head until his fingers finally brushed against the plastic frames. He nearly sobbed with grateful relief. It was bad enough that he couldn't move without his body punishing him and screaming at him not to be a dick, but not being able to see worth a damn was really freaking him the shit out.

His glasses were in one piece and if he could put the damn things on his face he would be able to see again but before he could carefully raise his aching throbbing pulsating arm to pick them up and just do it, he heard that noise again, this time a lot freaking nearer.

Rene tried to turn his head to focus on the sound, and excruciating pain shot through his neck and shoulders. His hurt whimper shuddered its way out of his throat, and he drew in great gulping breaths to try to stop the nausea roiling in his stomach from actually forcing him to vomit.

He wanted to be sick so desperately that he knew he needed a distraction, he tried to focus on his surroundings again.

Nope still blurry god damn it, but over to his left he could just make out that one of his Uncle's men was heading towards him. He wasn't sure if he said it loud enough for the guy to hear but his "Thank you God" was heartfelt and totally manly in a totally manly totally masculine way. He did not sob again, he just didn't okay. Despite his early fear of being seen in such a pathetic state, the relief he felt overwhelmed his conscious mind, as if it knew it could give his body much needed rest, because finally he had been found.

Rene didn't know how long he had been out of it but the next time he opened his eyes and actually understood where he was and what had happened, the man was looming over him.

Rene struggled to recognise him. His right hand still clutched helplessly at his glasses because he didn't have the strength to lift his hand to put them back on. His face scrunched up with the effort to try to improve his vision.

Why was the dude wearing a leather jacket? None of his Uncle's people had been wearing a leather jacket.

The Argent family had a standard hunting uniform that they expected everyone to wear.

(Unless you were the Perfect Princess who could do no wrong, who was allowed to wear exactly what she wanted and do what she wanted he thought sourly, of course it hadn't gone down well with his Grandfather when Rene had made some joke about fashion sense, black being the new black for the wannabe militia)
All of his Uncle's men were wearing the normal black Argent uniform, of combat jacket, combat trousers and black leather army boots even Rene was expected to wear it despite his mother's dismissive contempt and Gerard's disapproving smirk every time they saw him dressed that way.

God damn his jack rabbit bouncing brain, he had to focus. Someone had come to help him. He was being rescued. "Connors? Connors is that you Dude?" he asked uncertainly, his voice low and weak. His breath failing him as he spoke.

The guy had Connors bulk and height. He blinked a few times to try to clear his vision and then his heart nearly stopped in horror as suddenly it worked and he could see again. This close he couldn't miss it.

Outright terror flooded his broken body and distraught mind. He didn't even realise that he was sobbing in fear as he tried desperately to inch backward. Oh God the pain, his nerves in his body lit up like they were screaming shrieking fireworks and he couldn't get away.

Please God have mercy, he couldn't move, not even with the tidal wave of adrenaline pulsing through his body, he couldn't make himself move away from the nightmare being above him.

Raging red eyes bore into his and he saw the glinting fangs as the sound of the snarl of the Alpha Werewolf sliced its way through to the marrow of his bones.

Rene couldn't breathe, he couldn't get any air, his lungs were compressing as he stared up at the beta shift of an actual honest to god Alpha werewolf crouched above him.

He opened his mouth to scream but nothing happened. Now, now his freaking body kept silent, what the fuck? He was hallucinating, he had to be, it was the smack to his skull, he had concussion, brain damage, or he was in bed fast asleep. He wasn't here, he wasn't lying here, helpless, he wasn't he wasn't, he was having a nightmare whilst he was safe in his own bed.

It couldn't be true. Rene was not allowed anywhere near a supernatural incident in case he managed to hurt their own men… again. Rene was their researcher, their info man, the one with the mad Google-fu skills who put together the pieces of the puzzle. Rene might have to train with them, and had learnt everything from Archery to Tai chi (he had asked his instructor about glass blowing but Gerard hadn't seen the funny side and he had been locked in his room for four days with just bread and water for that little quip) but his hunting was undertaken with the internet and the famous and jealously guarded Bibliotheque des Argent, the centuries old Argent library. Or as Rene liked to define it…So many books so little time.

The creature dropped to lay above him propped up on those insanely muscular arms. The move swifter than Rene could track. He was blanketed by the nightmare, and the huge body hovered inches over him as its mouth moved to his left ear. Fangs, oh sweet baby Jesus, there were fangs, he could feel fangs and the monster's hot breath on the thin vulnerable skin of his neck.

Rene forced his eyelids down, ignoring the tears, terrified of not seeing what was there but more terrified of the monster thinking he was challenging it. He knew better than stare directly into the creature's eyes, he wanted it to think he was not a threat, (so not a threat big guy, couldn't be a threat to a mouse right now, well never actually to a mouse, those damn things were scary the way they scurried around and they could get up your trouser legs and head for your… yes focus Rene focus, not a mouse, not a mouse).

Rene really did not want the Werewolf to think he was challenging it, and turned his face to the side and tilted slightly up, offering his neck in submission to the looming Alpha, desperately hoping the knowledge he had picked up from the ancient Family Bestiary and the freaking National Geographic channel wildlife programmes on the pack nature of wolves was correct as terrified tears continued to leak from his eyelids.

"Please" he blurted out once, fear coating his tongue with a bitter sickening flavour then his lungs were empty and he couldn't draw in the air needed for any more words.

Above the almost deafening terrified pounding drum beat of his heart, he could barely hear the low rumbling snarling satisfaction in the growled savage words "You are mine now you little Argent runt, make a sound, and I will rip your throat out with my teeth" before Rene's horrified brain took pity on him and before he even had time to whimper again, shut his body down completely.

AN: