Part of the Pack

From Saj_te_Gyuhyall at AO3:

You've successfully managed anime style kitty boys (kudos to you!) how about werewolves? Not the type that are uncontrollable beasts, so nothing like in HP, BtVS, and SPN though. I'm a fan of the Teen Wolf style myself, and Patricia briggs's world is awesome too... Or if you're not familiar with any of the more in control verses, make up your own mythos! :D The boys are born what they are, or turned at the same time? Both have exceedingly good control and only chance or choice outs them! (In Patricia Briggs's books werewolves choose to all come out of the supernatural closet because science is starting to realize the exist, as an example!)

There were things that ordinary people had no understanding of. Neal took a lot of pride in being one of those things.

Most days. But, most days didn't involve a full moon, alcohol and a visit from his twin brother.

Full moons made him twitchy and energetic; eager to move, to run, to jump, to shift.

Alcohol made him willing to take risks.

Visits from his twin brother made him enjoy shifting as he had someone to share it with.

The combination was a deadly one. Bryce placed the wine glasses away and gave him that wild smile, the one he got when he pulled off some kind of really difficult mission.

And then he shifted. One moment a man, the next a wolf. He stretched and snuffed at the air.

He looked and Neal and Neal found himself smiling. It had been a while and Mozzie was out of town so, Neal reached inside him and twinged the wild part of him. A flashing feeling similar to a shiver ran over his body before it changed. The world widened as the floor rushed closer, his senses dialled into the change and the colours faded from his vision at the same time he was assaulted with an assortment of scents and sounds, his muscles bulged with strength and his tongue lolled out of his jaw.

He gave a soft whine as the twitchy feeling dissipated with his change. He lay out on the cold floor and started to close his eyes.

The sharp, musky sent of his brother came closer and the other wolf gave a playful growl.

He softly barked back before curling up into a ball. He could feel the light of moon on his body and there was no need to move.

His brother nudged at him and he curled up tighter. The other wolf would do well to take a hint and go to sleep as well.

No such luck. A playful growl, a scrape of claws against the floor and two warm paws impacting into his body.

He growled back as they tussled on the ground; fun but also good practice.

Peter couldn't sleep. The latest case was a real annoyance. It involved lots of numbers and checking through accounts.

He would bet that the suspects kept multiple accounts everywhere just to create more for him and his team. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw monetary values floating before him.

El had kicked him out of bed and he decided to pay Neal a visit. It was late, but still the current day so, he didn't doubt that Neal was still up and engaged in nightly criminal associations.

In other words, he was probably hanging out with Mozzie and having a drink or five.

He was let in by one of the night maids and showed himself up to Neal's apartment. As he walked up the stairs, he could hear scratching and growls but figured that it was a TV or something.

Or the house settling. Did the creaks and groans of older houses really sound like whines and growls? He realised, feeling like a fool, that it could be Bugsy having a really realistic dream. Satchmo sometimes growled in his sleep too.

He amused himself with these thoughts as he climbed up to Neal's apartment. However, once he opened the door, his thought froze. Except for one; get out!

Good advice, if his legs were working and however many pounds of large black dog came tackling into him. The weight sent him smacking into the floor as sharp claws dug into his shoulder.

Hot, stinking breaths were huffed into his face as the wolf, as it was too large to be a dog, growled low in its stomach. Peter's eyes widened at the multitude of tearing teeth in his vision and closed his eyes as steaming saliva dripped onto his chin and neck.

He tried to shove the wolf off him, but it was too heavy. Absently, he wondered why a wolf was in Neal's apartment as he tried to pull strength into his arms.

Suddenly a quick and forceful growl sounded from further in Neal's apartment. Peter cursed as he realised that there was another one. It's padded feet clicked along the floor as it came towards them.

"Neal!" Peter called, wondering what happened to his friend. He hoped that he wasn't here and that he was somewhere safe but, he despaired that Neal might have been the first victim.

The second wolf growled again and the first wolf turned its head away from Peter to bark back. Another growl and the first wolf climbed off Peter, stalking away to the opposite side of the apartment.

The second wolf came forward, its head hanging a little as it paused before him. Peter pulled himself into a sitting position and examined it. It didn't seem interested in attacking him and had called the other wolf off; he immediately realised how impossible that seemed.

The wolf carefully came closer, watching him as much as he watched it. Peter watched, breathless, as he wondered what it was up to. Finally, it nudged its head against his hand.

A lot like Satchmo when he wanted a pat. Peter's hand automatically reacted and he stroked the coarse hair of the wolf.

It made a rumbling sound of contentment and lay down beside him as he ran his hair through its coat. He found himself growing less tense.

"He really does trust you," a male voice said, jarring compared to the wolf's content rumbles. Peter was certain the other wolf was standing where this man was now.

"Neal?" he questioned because the hard expression on the younger man's face was foreign to him.

He shook his head.

"Bryce," he corrected, pointing to himself. "That's Neal." He pointed to the wolf, baffling Peter.

"Uh, what?"

"Come on, this is your friend, you should tell him," Bryce said. It seemed like he was talking to the wolf and not Peter but it wasn't like the wolf could reply.

The wolf gave a huff and moved a step away from Peter. In a blink, there was no wolf. In its place was a shirtless Neal, lying along the ground and looking petulant.

Peter jolted back and his first coherent thought was the he was going crazy. Neal put his hands up in a 'no weapons' position.

"Peter, let me explain," he said.

"Oh no, there's no reasonable explanation for this. Unless you drugged me, did you drug me?" his voice grew impossibly high on that last word.

"I did not drug you," Neal said. Peter glanced over at Bryce and Neal responded before he could ask, "no, he didn't drug you either."

"Then, what is going on?" he demanded to know, standing up on shaky feet.

"Uh," Neal seemed lost for words and, any other night, Peter would have enjoyed the sight.

On the other side of the room Bryce sighed in frustration.

"We're werewolves," he said, "and, Neal, I know you don't like talking about it but, you better take the time to explain it right." And with that said, he shifted back into wolf form and stalked over to the bed.

"Should he be doing that?" Peter questioned as the wolf that was Bryce jumped onto the couch to doze off. Here he was, confronted with real proof of the existence of werewolves and all he could worry about was whether the wolves were allowed on the furniture.

"June has a good cleaner," Neal said. Peter glanced down at him and noticed that he seemed just as shocked as he was. At the very least, he was certain that the paleness of Neal's pallor had nothing to do with the moonlight.

"You hungry?" he questioned as he went to the fridge. Last time he had been here, he had left a few beers in there.

Neal shook his head.

"I wouldn't be able to keep anything down if I ate," he said as he nervously tapped his foot on the floor.

Peter grabbed his beer and then moved to sit at the table, keeping the wolf on the couch in sight. He couldn't go home as he didn't think he'd be able to sleep after this, so he might as well hear Neal's explanation.

"We were born this way," Neal explained, his hands moving to illustrate his words as he spun his tale. "You see, being a werewolf is something in the blood, it's hereditary. Our mother was one and our father wasn't. Ma had been warned about marrying outside the wolf lines but, she didn't listen and she married a cop. And then she had us, me and Bryce. She's never said as much but, we both know that she wished we took after our father more and were just ordinary humans.

"All the things the other werewolves told her about marrying outside the wolf lines, they came true. Our father left and she had nothing but two young werewolf children and a life she to rebuild from scratch. She rebuilt her life but, there was really no place for me and Bryce in it, even when she remarried; this time to a 'nice werewolf man'. Bryce left for college and I just left. I spent a lot of time in wolf form while travelling, it made roaming easier. When I was hungry, I could just hunt down something like, say, a rabbit and eat that. Oh, don't make that face, Peter, surely you've been hunting once or twice. It's like that but, without having to cook it.

"Anyway, I don't belong to a pack. June's son-in-law has been kind enough to extend the protection of his pack to me so I don't have any problems while staying here but I'm not a member of his pack, more like a client. Bryce belongs to a powerful pack, you might have heard of them; the CIA?" He smirked at the last bit as Peter's jaw dropped. Peter asked the obvious question and he answered, "no. The CIA isn't made up of werewolves. There are some but most are all human. However, you might be surprised to know that a lot of wolves end up in some kind of government work. Bryce has asked; they consider it as returning a debt since the government has been keeping werewolves a secret for generations.

"Yep, that's right. The government has been keeping the existence of werewolves a secret. And not just the US government, any government in any country where wolves make their homes, keep their existence a secret. Don't know why but, it has something to do with some kind of deal made centuries ago.

"So, that's basically it. Bryce and I are werewolves, we can take the form of a wolf whenever we like." Pause as Peter asked another question. "Oh, the full moon thing? Well, it fills us with energy and makes us twitchy. Less well trained wolves can also feel really itchy. And it doesn't stop unless you transform. What? No! I did not use my 'werewolf powers' to pull off any of my alleged heists! We don't even have 'werewolf powers', beyond the shifting thing."

What Neal didn't tell Peter was that ordinary humans were counted as pack if they met certain conditions. The first was that they cared for the werewolf, as a good friend or family, and the werewolf cared back. The second was that they knew they were a werewolf.

Peter met the first condition long ago, when they first started working together, maybe even earlier. It was why Neal's wolf didn't let Bryce's wolf tear him to pieces.

That night, Peter met the second condition and unknowingly became part of Neal's pack. They would later share this with Elizabeth and she would also become part of Neal's pack.

Neal and Bryce were brothers and blood related wolves. They weren't pack but something different. Bryce could protect Neal without it being interpreted as betraying the pack and Neal could seek Bryce without interference from his pack.

Bryce had a large pack, in name only. Most didn't pass the first condition. Some did. Chuck was first. Then Bryce grew closer to Orion as he grew distant from Chuck; ironically, they bonded over having to cut themselves off from Chuck because of the CIA. Later, surprising him, he connected with Sarah and she became part of his pack.

Orion and Sarah both knew he was werewolf because it was in his file. Chuck, however, found out on moonlit night.

Unlike Neal, who took to hiding his wolf from the world by not transforming, Bryce took to hiding it by transforming away from people.

He was rarely spotted and 'the wolf stalking Stanford' became an urban legend which no one really believed so they weren't really interested in wolf sightings. Chuck, however, set out one night on a dare to prove that the wolf existed. No one expected him to find the wolf, especially Bryce, who was going out that night. It was just a dare that meant Chuck would be cold and tired the next day and everyone would laugh afterwards.

Chuck set up camp at one of the tables and benches which were placed around the grounds. He had his books, his pens and a camping lamp he borrowed from Bryce to use for light. The night air was cold but, not to bothersome.

Until that night, Chuck hadn't believed in the Stanford wolf. But, partway through the night, when the moon was still rising, he heard a scuffling of leaves and spotted a pair of glowing eyes watching him. It gave him a heart attack and he froze on the spot as a very curious wolf walked out from the bushes and over to him. It snuffed at him and then curled up at his feet, under the table. Chuck didn't unfreeze for seven minutes; that's how long it took him realise that the wolf didn't mean him any harm.

He had thought he was done with surprises but then, the wolf shifted into a very nervous Bryce as the sun broke over the horizon.

This experience was one of the reasons why Chuck wasn't scared years and years later, after the Intersect and marrying Sarah, when a wolf appeared inside his house. He was surprised and wondered how the wolf got there but, he wasn't scared. Sarah had a gun pointed at it in moments, following Mary Bartowski's lead.

"Chuck, get away from it," Mary ordered in a calm voice.

"What?" Chuck questioned in confusion. He did the exact opposite, holding out his hand and petting the creature. He made sure to get close so that they couldn't shoot it.

"Chuck, that's probably a werewolf," Sarah explained.

"What?" Chuck questioned, surprised that Sarah knew about werewolves. Sarah incorrectly interpreted it as ignorance and disbelief.

"Werewolves exist," She explained, Mary nodding from her stance beside her.

"The CIA has been assisting in the hiding and protecting of werewolves," she explained to her son.

Chuck made an 'oh' face as he process this. He hadn't known about the CIA. But, he didn't get a chance to comment has his hand slid over something wet and sticky.

Blood.

"You're injured!" he gasped to the wolf, ignoring the guns pointed at him as he dropped down so that he was level with the creature's face. "What happened?"

"Chuck!" Mary warned and he shot her an angry look. He wasn't going to stand by while this creature needed help.

The wolf gave a whine that morphed into a groan as it shifted from wolf to injured man. Bryce winced as Chuck's hand pressed hard against his injured side.

"Some guy tried to stab me," he explained as calmly as he could. But, when he wasn't talking he was panting and his forehead was beaded with sweat. "His knife glanced my hip and I need a place to lie low for a while."

"I think it did more than 'glance'," Chuck commented, glancing back at his mother and wife. They had more experience with injuries on the job than he did.

"Chuck, you know this wolf?" Mary questioned as Chuck motioned her over. Bryce let out a high whine as she pressed her hand against his injury.

"We went to Stanford together," Chuck explained, "that's where I found out he was a werewolf." Once it was clear that Bryce didn't mean him any harm and he received answers to most of his questions, Chuck found it cool.

"Doesn't that mean that you knew before I did?" Sarah questioned Chuck in confusion, "you never mentioned it."

"Bryce made it clear that it was a secret," Chuck responded with a shrug.

"I might be able to stitch this up," Mary commented, "I'm going to need a first aid kit and a needle and thread."

Chuck went pale. He didn't need anyone to tell him what the needle and thread were for.

"You're going to stitch him up?" he said in surprise, his voice rising a little in horror. "Here? As in, without a hospital? Or without painkillers?"

"That's right," Mary responded, finding her son's antics overkill. Chuck and Bryce shared a look, one seeking permission and the other giving assurance.

"Get me a couple of panadol tablets?" Bryce commented with a confident smile, which was a shadowed with pain.

"I'll get you the whole box," Chuck responded, eager for any reason to leave. Thankfully, Bryce understood his reluctance to hang around and was okay with it.

After he was stitched up, Bryce fell asleep in human form and ended up shifting halfway through the night. While werewolves don't have fast healing, treated injuries sometimes vanish. The work Mary did on his wound, cleaning it up and stitching it up, allowed it to heal as he shifted. The skin was able to fuse and close the wound, leaving only a small scar.

By morning, Bryce was as good as new. Except his wolf form got tangled up in the sheets and couldn't get out. He growled and struggled and tried to tear the sheets with his claws and jaw but, he only managed to get even more tangled and even drop off the bed and onto the ground.

He yelped and twisted some more. It seemed to work, because the sheets began to move away. Bryce gripped the carpet with his claws as he tried to get his bearings. A sharp scent of something musky was behind him and something flowery from the direction where all the air flowed from, the exit.

They were both familiar, although aged scents, of pack. His long time friend placed a hand before his muzzle and then gave him a few strokes across his head and a welcome scratch behind his ear.

Neal was curled up on the Burke's couch, nursing a really bad stomach ache. Dogs didn't like chocolate and, apparently, you shouldn't feed wolves it either. It was all El's fault. She made lovely chocolate mousse for dessert and Neal had eaten all of it and then she wanted to see him in wolf form. It was like that time when he ate the raw fish while hunting as wolf and didn't give his stomach time to settle before shifting back to human form.

This time, he had done two quick shifts and his chocolate filled belly, instead of killing him or something, decided to make life unbearable instead.

He wasn't even aware of Peter until the other man's hand was pressed to his ear and making scratching motions. Tingles of good, happy feelings rushed through his body, easing the pain.

"Mmm." He forgot he was human for a moment; his mouth lolling open and his leg twitching as his happily arched up into the touch.

"-just like Satchmo," was all he caught but it was enough to send a wave of shame and anger through him and pull away.

"Aw, Neal. He didn't mean anything by it," El was quick to reassure him. A little too quick. He gave her a suspicious glance that told her he wasn't buying it.

Then, his face scrunched up as his stomach cramped painfully.

"Neal?" Peter questioned in a worried tone. Once it was over, Neal glared up at him. "Come on, you know you liked it. Consider it repayment for almost letting my wife poison you."

Despite the slight insult pointed towards her, El giggled. Three grown adults, two who owned a dog and another who was part-dog-family, and none of them thought that offering Neal chocolate before shifting would hurt him.

And Neal wasn't in any position to argue as another wave of pain rushed through his body.

"Fine," he whined. At least it made him feel better.