Chapter 4: To Cure a Werewolf

"Inconceivable," Holmes grumbled.

"I'll bet it was Storm Shadow," Thompson said, scowling. "I'll buy that the werewolf could have woken up and escaped: that's why I wanted the cameras there. But there's no WAY he would have found all the cameras, never mind removing the drives from them with his PAWS!"

"Could be," Holmes said. "Either way, we need a new plan or we need to try again and make sure whatever happened doesn't happen again."

"And how do you suggest we do that?" Hart asked. "We don't have a clue how Storm Shadow knew what we were up to!"

Holmes' reply was interrupted by her name being called by the postal clerk.

"He overheard us planning, of course," Thompson replied for her as Holmes got up to get her letter. "We just need to make sure he doesn't again. Now, for instance, we know he's in PT so we're safe."

Holmes walked back to the table rather fast, ripping the envelope opened as she went. She tossed the envelope on the table, letting them all see that it was addressed to Maggie Holmes and the Watsons. She started reading as she was sitting down, her voice a nervous whisper.

Dear friends,

I cannot reveal my identity to you: my life and quite possibly all of yours depend on it. I was once attacked by the one you seek, although I was spared his fate. I live in fear that he will lose control again, and of course my heart breaks at the thought of this human being living under such a vile curse.

Because I keep a close eye on him whenever I can, I witnessed your capturing him and Storm Shadow releasing him. I imagine that by the time you receive this letter, you will be angry at the fact your efforts were in vain, but you should thank the Heavens that they were! We were all very lucky that he was rescued: waking up in a cage would have enraged him with disastrous consequences, just like last time. There is no telling how many lives Storm Shadow saved by setting him free.

I cannot stress this enough: I BEG of you, do not attempt to capture him again! You will only bring pain and death unto the Pit.

If you wish to help, I have been able to uncover cures that have each been successful at least once on patients suffering from the same condition as him, but I lack the skills to implement them myself. I know that you share my concerns for him and everyone else here… I pray that you will find it in your heart to help me free him from this horrible condition.

Since every night that passes increases the odds of tragedy, I will be very presumptuous and assume that you are indeed willing to help.

The most important thing, that you must not forget under any circumstance, is to NEVER, EVER, for the love of all that is holy, try applying any cure when he is feeling 'hairy'. The cures all call upon purity to purify the body… you do NOT want to purify the body when it is furry, or it shall never shed that fur.

I repeat: only ever apply the cures when he is feeling himself.

That being said, I believe that of all the potential cures I know of, the one that is most likely to work and that will be most easily applied by people of your amazing talents is Holy Water: all you need to do is to drench him in it… the only problem, and the reason I have been unable to do this myself, is that his condition will defend its own existence if he is aware at all that he is about to be wet. In other words, the drenching must be a complete surprise if it is to work. I'm sorry, I realize this makes things more difficult, and I am doubly sorry that it is not the only complication you will face, for I regret to say that his usual clothes are entirely waterproof.

I have full confidence that you will be able to get past these difficulties, and I look forward to seeing the sword of Damocles that has been hanging over all our heads finally taken away. You have my eternal gratitude for reading this far, for I know you have the hearts of heroes and will not abandon me, him, and GI Joe.

Thank you, may fate smile upon your endeavours.

Holmes looked up from the letter to find three pairs of eyes staring at the back of the paper, as though they could extract more information from it.

"Do you… do you think he's right? Or she? That if Storm Shadow hadn't let him out, Snake Eyes would have gone on a rampage?" Clearwater asked, clearly horrified at the thought.

Hart swallowed, not rising his eyes to meet any of theirs.

"P… probably," he breathed. "I'm sorry. In hindsight, I should have known… we almost unleashed a furious werewolf on the Pit."

Thompson sighed heavily. "I should have known better too," he said. "Look, it's no good beating ourselves up; we can end this! Don't you see what a stroke of luck this letter is? There's someone who knows a bunch of cures! We can save Snake Eyes AND make the Pit safe again!"

Holmes chewed on the inside of her cheek, thinking hard. If capturing the werewolf was out of the question, curing him probably WAS her best chance of being recognized for her work – Snake Eyes would surely be grateful enough to agree to admit to the newly dispelled curse and to credit them for curing him.

"I say let's do it," she said.

Clearwater nodded enthusiastically. "Any idea how?" she asked.

"Since we need him not to have his normal clothes on, and he wears them all the time, we need to catch him while he's sleeping," Thompson said, thinking out loud.

"But he's… furry, at night," Clearwater said. "Unless it's still close enough to the full moon and he's going to stop transforming in a night or two?"

"It's not close enough to the full moon anymore," Hart said. "The fact that he transformed last night means he's going to keep transforming every night. But! Werewolves need to get a bit of sleep as humans; typically at least one or two hours a night, so their human brains get the benefits."

"It's possible he naps when he's supposedly meditating," Holmes suggested, "but how do we know whether he really is or not?"

"I doubt he is," Thompson said. "He gets interrupted all the time, and he never looks or acts like he just woke up."

"Do you know his blood type?" Holmes asked.

"Yes, but what does THAT have to do with anything?" Thompson asked.

"Favourite underwear?"

Thompson scowled at her. "Aren't we funny. Ah, ah, ah. Let's ask stupid questions and waste time just to make fun of the fact Thompson knows stuff. Clearly, you're a comedic genius."

Holmes glared at him, but Clearwater cut off her response.

"So… when do YOU think he gets his sleep?" she asked Thompson.

"At this time of the year, my guess would be between dawn and 0645," he answered with a shrug, "and before you ask, Holmes, no, I don't know for sure when he wakes up; he typically shows up for breakfast around 0700, and I don't picture him just lounging."

"Yeah," Clearwater said, "he's probably one of those people who jump out of bed, take a shower and get dressed in ten minutes flat. I bet all ninjas are."

"Dawn tomorrow will start around 0505," Holmes said, reading from her laptop. "I suggest we aim for around 6:00, just in case he does wake up a while before his breakfast."

"Sounds good," Hart said. "But how are we going to drench him with holy water in his bed? Where are we even going to get holy water?"

"I'm off this afternoon," Holmes said. "I can go into town, bring or buy a bunch of water bottles and get a priest to bless the water inside of them."

"Perfect," Thompson said. "Clearwater, we need to find a way to make it fall from the ceiling above his bed at 0600."

Snake Eyes and Timber sneaked back into the ninja's quarters soundlessly around 0430. Timber turned on the spot in his bed and crashed, while Snake Eyes took his uniform and mask off before slipping back into his own bed.

He lay on his back, staring at a spot in mid-air, between his eyes and the ceiling. Exactly as he had hoped would be the case, Timber had stayed right where he was supposed to and had obviously not been found again since he had not been caged again. Just the same, something about the whole situation didn't feel quite right; he had the oddest feeling that he was missing a piece of information, that he ought to know something he did not. His thoughts became unfocused as he tried to think of what it could be and he allowed himself to fall asleep, thinking he'd figure it out in the morning when he was fully awake.

A slight shuffling in the ceiling could be heard, about one hour and a half later, as the two ceiling panels directly above the bed slid above their respective neighbours. The sound of water slushing inside five buckets followed as said buckets were flipped upside down.

Snake Eyes, awaken by the unexpected noise although he had no idea what exactly he had heard, was already crouching on the bed in a remarkably perfect defensive position when 10 gallons of blessed water poured from the ceiling, effectively soaking both him and the bed.

Timber's howl was still in his throat when Snake Eyes's hand wrapped around his maw, letting him know he needed to be silent. He swallowed back the howl and contented himself with staring at the ceiling, poised to jump and follow his pack leader, who had already disappeared through the hole.

Snake Eyes cursed silently, dearly wishing he could do it out loud: there was nobody in the ceiling. All that the bedside lamp he had turned on before jumping allowed him to see was a mechanism comprised of buckets that were now upside down, connected to a timer which was also connected to the panels that had been moved.

He jumped back down into the drenched bed, water dripping from his hair and his body. He could almost hear Tommy philosophically claiming it was karma getting back at him for having splurged on a multi-jets shower a couple of months earlier. The imaginary taunt was the straw that broke the camel's back: he needed to hit something, now. His pillow was the closest thing he didn't mind breaking and so, was viciously punched repeatedly until Timber helpfully snatched it to swing it back and forth, tearing it apart. Snake Eyes snorted, very slightly cheered up, gave him a pat and picked up the phone to call maintenance.

The call was picked up after just one ring, which even a soaked ninja couldn't help but appreciate - despite the fact the person who answered sounded like someone who'd much rather be in bed.

"Maintenance."

Snake Eyes morse-tapped on the phone transmitter that he needed his bed dried or changed, thinking as he did that he'd have to schedule the movers coming for his bed carefully, make sure Timber was out of sight and figure out how to delay any investigation until Timber was back home.

"I'm sorry, Sergeant Snake Eyes, did I get that right? You… wet your bed?"

The ninja's mood sank right back down to murderous.

Snake Eyes was long done with his breakfast by the time Storm Shadow showed up in the mess hall, followed shortly after by Scarlett. Scarlett whispered something to Storm Shadow, who nodded, and came straight over.

"What's wrong?" she asked in a whisper, sitting down in front of him. "Is he okay?"

Snake Eyes signed that Timber was fine with quick jerky movements that were his equivalent to snarling and growling.

"Then what is it?"

Tommy arrived at that point with a tray balanced on each hand. He put one down in front of Scarlett and sat down next to her with his own.

"You've got me curious as well, brother. What's the matter?"

Snake Eyes signed the whole story, his fists clenching in anger a few times between signs.

Scarlett was scowling by the time he was done. Tommy looked disgusted, but also like he could barely keep himself from laughing.

"Unreal," she said. "I don't know whose idea that was, but wait until we catch them…"

"Hold that thought," Tommy said, the disgusted part of his expression winning out. "Let me get this straight… you had 5 buckets of water and a timer set to make your ceiling panels slide and those buckets tip, all right above your head, and you didn't feel anything was wrong?" He sighed, all trace of amusement gone. "Brother… what am I going to do with you? That could just as easily have been flesh-eating acid! Your bed could have been soaked in your blood instead of just water!"

Snake Eyes sighed, resisted the temptation to smack Tommy out of melodrama-mode, and signed that he had in fact felt something was out of place, but had sensed no danger and had decided figuring it out could wait until morning. He added that since he had only gotten wet, there had indeed been no real danger.

"Well, I suppose the fact you still have your instincts and just ignore them IS marginally better than your not having them at all anymore," Tommy said grumpily. "At least there's the faint hope you'll eventually decide to start listening again."

"Back on topic," Scarlett said, "You didn't happen to hear anyone planning this, did you Tommy?"

Tommy shook his head, looking just as hurt as if he hadn't admitted the day before to wilfully letting a bunch of greenshirts shoot Timber. "Of course not."

"I say we start by questioning Shipwreck. He could be involved, and he always knows about all the betting polls on the go."

"Sounds like a plan," Storm Shadow agreed. "Can I?"

Snake Eyes signed to demand to have the first turn.

Storm Shadow pouted, but shrugged and nodded, conceding.

"It's funny though," he breathed, his voice barely audible, "that's the second time you share Timber's fate. I know you only saw the end result, but those greenshirts had quite the elaborate plan to capture him. And now, just one night later, you have this elaborate contraption setting off right above your bed. I was kidding when you hurt your wrist, but I'm starting to wonder whether your destinies really are somehow connected."

Scarlett's eyes widened. "The greenshirts… I don't suppose THEY might be behind this?"

"I don't see how," Storm Shadow said. "They would have had to see inside the room when they were setting the panels to slide, wouldn't they? So, if they set it up during the day, they would have seen Timber, and if they did it all during the night, they would have seen Snake Eyes. And even if they didn't see anything, they would have been heard by either of them. Even you aren't THAT deaf, brother. So, whenever they did it, they would have run into the form they weren't expecting and have figured out you just have a wolf, as opposed to turning into one at night. They can't go to Hawk with their crazy theory, but if they figured out the truth, don't you think they would?"

Snake Eyes didn't answer, having taken a sudden interest in a scratch on his breakfast tray. Scarlett cleared her throat.

"Actually, Snake Eyes wasn't in his room for most of last night," she breathed, throwing Tommy a look that dared him to comment.

"Ah," Tommy said, smirking. "That's right, Lady Jaye was off base last night, and your room has the distinctively attractive characteristic of not stinking of incense. I stand corrected, then: it is in fact possible our werewolf hunters were involved. Why would they do something like that, though?"

Snake Eyes smacked his forehead and signed the words for holy and for water. Storm Shadow's eyes widened.

"You think that was holy water?" he whispered.

"They're trying to cure you," Scarlett groaned, smacking her head on her palms, her elbows resting on the table.

"Aww…" Storm Shadow cooed. "You have to admit, that's adorable."

"Snake Eyes," Scarlett asked, pointedly ignoring Storm Shadow, "did you tell maintenance it was a prank? We wouldn't want the greenshirts to get caught and have them reveal they think you're a werewolf; there are a few people who know about Timber, they'd figure out what's going on."

He nodded but signed he had already told security he did not want an investigation and that although they would surely end up doing one anyway, the red tape created by his specific request would delay them at least a week.

"And when are they changing your bed?" Storm Shadow asked.

Snake Eyes signed that he'd been told anytime between 0900 and 1700 and waited: he knew Tommy well enough to know he didn't need to ask for his brother to play wolf-sitter for the day. Like him, Tommy enjoyed solo quarters for reasons that were both obvious and never discussed: namely, nobody had wanted to room with him at first and even now that most of the team was moderately comfortable around him, there was no point re-arranging sleeping arrangements for existing members and it was assumed new arrivals would rather not be the ones to rob the intimidating ex-Cobra of his privacy.

"We should do it right away, then," Storm Shadow said, proving him right, "while everybody is down here. I'd feel safer keeping him, too… I'd rather not actually bet on security being stalled for a whole week, plus this way, you won't have to insist if they actually ask you to reconsider."

Snake Eyes nodded and signed his thanks.

"You do realize you'll need the stock of incense, too?" Scarlett whispered. "And the CD, and the lint roller, and…"

She stopped when Storm Shadow nodded curtly, looking insulted that she'd think he didn't realize what he was getting into. She reached to give him a pat on the arm and smiled.

"Glad you're done sulking and still helping," she said. "I might even forgive you for my toasts being whole wheat and my eggs hard boiled," she added, looking at her half eaten breakfast.

"Better for you," Storm Shadow said, shrugging. "Besides, aren't you grateful I got you real coffee instead of decaf? Although to be honest, that was more out of concern for the safety of everyone you might encounter today than for your benefit."

"Got that right," Scarlett snorted.

The three got up, and after getting his sleeping point pinched to make sure he didn't wake up in transit, Timber was transferred to Storm Shadow's quarters without incident, along with the various implements needed to camouflage his presence.

Once Timber was settled comfortably, Snake Eyes signed to indicate he'd still take him out and bring him back at night.

"Just as well," Storm Shadow said, "I don't think he'd stay in one area all night just because I tell him too, but we already know he'll do it for you."

"Do you have an excuse ready to explain your sudden use of incense and relaxing sounds?" Scarlett asked. "And no, you don't get to pretend you and I are having a fight," she added when he smirked in a decidedly evil way.

The smirk turned into a pout.

"You're no fun," he complained. "Seriously, though, we could say I'm worried for Billy, or that I'm getting flashbacks again… or just that I'm generally freaking out. I think people would believe it."

Snake Eyes remarked that two of those possibilities would make Psyche Out insist he go from his current weekly appointments back to daily ones or worse, spur the psychiatrist into dropping in unannounced for a house call.

"Right," Storm Shadow agreed. "Worried for Billy it is, then. I'll pour it on a bit thicker than usual when I ask Hawk for a status update today, and let you guys plant the rumour my imagination is getting away with me. You two better go get ready for PT, we don't want to be late."

Snake Eyes signed his thanks again and left with Scarlett. Storm Shadow lit a couple of sticks of incense as soon as they were gone and wrinkled his nose.

"The things one must do for one's brother," he sighed, addressing the sleeping wolf. "Try to at least not shed too much for the next few days, would you?"

One of Timber's legs twitched, causing a couple of hair to float away from it.

Thompson, Holmes, Clearwater and Hart met that night on the grounds, determined to comb the area and make absolutely sure Snake Eyes had not transformed again. The ninja had been in a terrible mood all day and the word about what had happened to him had gotten around the base, so they knew the holy water had reached its intended target. Their mood was therefore pretty close to giddy, and they were even confident that once he realized he had been rid of the curse, Snake Eyes' mood would change completely. Holmes intended to go see him when that happened, relate how he had been saved and request that he go public and thus allow her to apply her talents to help others as well… she wasn't quite sure how she'd phrase that yet to sound neither selfish not corny, but she had already decided she'd settle for corny if she couldn't avoid it.

All four were grinning when they separated to each go look their own way, fully expecting they would all come back with no wolf to report.

Three of them were still smiling widely when they regrouped two hours later. Holmes, Thompson and Hart lost their smile instantly upon seeing Clearwater leaning against the wall, looking around rather nervously. Thompson sped up his steps.

"What did you see?" he asked when he got close enough to be heard without shouting.

"It's still here," she muttered a bit shakily. "I saw it. It looks so… real! I think I was downwind, he didn't seem to notice me, but… what if he did? Is he going to come after me?"

"No," Thompson replied automatically. "You need to remember, this is Snake Eyes. He's not bad, he's just cursed. He's not going to harm us, unless we do something that drives him crazy."

"Like dowsing him in water while he's sleeping?" Hart asked.

Clearwater's eyes widened. Thompson glared at Hart.

"There's no way just getting wet drove Snake Eyes crazy," he said. "He's been through WAY worse. Come on, we need to figure out what to do next."

The four skulked back towards the security door, considerably less cheerful than they had been when they had stepped outside. As they got closer, Hart's eyes were drawn to a small white object leaning against the grey wall next to the door. The others saw it too as they got closer – an envelope.

"The Victim was here," Holmes said as she picked up the envelope, addressed once again to Holmes and the Watsons. "We'll read it inside."

"You'd think he would have told us the werewolf was still here instead of letting me get scared half to death," Clearwater grumbled.

"Feeling better now?" Hart asked. "You know, I think I saw on the internet that you can start sprouting whiskers if you see a werewolf."

Clearwater's eyes widened briefly, but then narrowed in annoyance as she smacked Hart in the back of the head. Hart just chuckled, so she smacked him again, harder. He stopped laughing and stepped sideways to get out of her reach.

The other three followed Holmes to an empty rec room and gathered around her as she opened the envelope.

Dear friends,

I was just out to check and see for myself that the grounds were no longer host to a certain four-legged creature and saw one of you run back, obviously frightened. It's all too clear the cure did not work… I am sorry.

Again for the sake of not wasting time, I will assume that you will not give up after this one failed attempt. Historically, where spiritual purity has failed, natural purity has been attempted with some success. Therefore, I would suggest your next choice of cure should be to cover the patient with the purest substance our Mother Earth can offer: honey.

Naturally, the purity of the honey will be more likely to be passed on to the patient the longer it stays on his skin. I can offer no suggestion on how to apply this cure and am therefore limited to wishing you the best of luck.

Holmes' eyes were wide when she stopped reading and looked up at the others. Unsurprisingly, they looked just as stunned as she was; how in the world were they going to cover Snake Eyes in honey?

Author's Notes:

Congratulations to everyone who guessed the reference in the last chapter was to Ghost Soldier by WillWrite4Fics!

Storm Shadow and Snake Eyes having private quarters was partly influenced by CrystalofEllinon's excellent stories, where both lack roommates for the same reasons I imagine they do.

Got nothing else to say, except the insanity is coming to an end… one, maybe two chapters left if the next one grows out of control.