Hey, I finally got around to another chapter! (Imagine that...)

Theme: Suspense

Rating: T

Description: This is basically Running (Part I), only from Jeremy's point of view.


Running (Part 2)

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"You're positive." It was not as much of a question as a reluctance to grasp onto this. Clay nodded again and Jeremy sighed quietly and grimaced inwardly.

"We could chase him out of the territory before he gets a hold of any humans." Clay said, pressing on. Jeremy shook his head.

"It would be more humane to kill him." Jeremy insisted, "Especially since we don't know what is causing his madness." Clay nodded once and his mouth narrowed into a thin line.

"He's probably rabid." Clay mumbled to himself.

"If he is, then kill him for sure." Jeremy turned to look at Clay and let the unspoken; and be quick about it, hang in the air. Clay nodded once. "Take Nick with you." Jeremy finished and turned back around to look out the window. The floor creaked as Clay left, otherwise silently, and left Jeremy to his musings.

There was something vaguely poetic about this. It was probably the first thing that he's ever actually had to worry about that did not involve some rouge member of the Supernatural community and it's a wild, rabid wolf. The only thing that would be any more ironic would be if a squirrel had attacked Clay.

The Grandfather Clock, which they had recently drug out of storage, chimed that it was eight o'clock and Jeremy turned and began to walk down to his car. He had let Jaime loose on the town for a small night of socializing with Paige, who had phoned a half an hour ago to inform him that she was leaving Jaime alone and that Jaime was still keen on staying to finish her drink, also that he should pick her up at eight.

He drove there, keeping his eyes peeled for any movement near the trees that surrounded the road, so as not to smash into one of his Pack or a stray deer. He made it to the bar without any animal-related accidents and stepped out of his car, taking in a deep breath of the crisp air into his lungs.

Instead what he got was a nose-full of blood scent. Not just any random blood of a person who had accidentally cut their finger on some glass or had suddenly gotten a bloody nose, this was Jaime's blood. Jaime's blood mixed with the scent of a wolf. Not a werewolf, just a wolf.

Immediately, Jeremy crouched down where the scent was strongest and took in which way they were headed. His ears could pick up the distant sounds of someone running though the forest. A quick taste of the wind proved that it was, indeed, Jaime.

He growled, and it slipped through his teeth before he had the presence of mind to stop it. He could already feel his body beginning the Change and, once he stumbled to a somewhat secluded area and removed the clothes off his person, he welcomed it.

He wasn't sure if it happened faster because of the panic that he was in or because he was too distracted to actually take the time to notice what was happening to him. He finished up and, after getting a good balance on his feet, took off at a full out run.

He followed their scents and could feel himself closing in. The wolf howled in triumph and Jeremy lowered his head, snarling shortly as his feet smashed down onto the leaves with a renewed sort of vigor.

He rounded a corner, skidding as he did so, but quickly regaining his balance and bolted down a hill. He looked behind himself to see if he had missed something.

She screamed.

He whipped his head back around and perked his ears forward. He saw the wolf launch himself at Jaime and snap his teeth into her leg. She let out another screech and stabbed something into the wolf's eye. He backed off with a yelp of pain. She looked at the wolf, her eyes wide a dark with fear; she made a sort of scuttle backwards but didn't get very far at all. The wolf shook his head one last time and then growled at her again, this one such a pure fury that even Jeremy was somewhat taken aback.

That feeling was quickly replaced by outrage that he dared to do this to her; to harm her, and to attempt such an attack upon her person. His world narrowed down to a tunnel and the rabid wolf was the center of it. He lowered his head and turned sharply so as to come at his opponent from the side and push him away from Jaime.

He barreled head first into the side of the wolf and latched his teeth into the fur on his back and yanked. The wolf let out a yelp of pain and fear. The part of him that hadn't yet become completely consumed by his rage was wise enough to remind him not to let the animal bite him. So he didn't.

He didn't give the beast a chance to even touch him with his teeth and he tore into him. The wolf was snarling defiantly and quite madly. Jeremy growled louder with distaste and ripped his throat open. Blood gushed over his teeth and into his mouth, coating the fur around his mouth with the tainted blood. Jeremy spat out the wolf as it made gurgling noises. He stood over him with his teeth pulled back from his gums to show off sharp canines and his fur bristling; his ears perked forward.

He left him and looked over at Jaime who was now laying on the ground unconscious. All of his animalistic rage exploded and he began to change back where he was. As soon as it was done, he quickly walked over to where she lay and laid her in his lap, her head in between his hands.

She moved pathetically.

He breathed in relief.

"Jaime?" He said gently. Her eyelids flickered but didn't lift. She was pale and the longer he held her the colder she got. A brief bout of panic seized him. She had to stay awake.

"Jaime." He demanded, firmly this time, using his tone of voice that he did whenever one of the Pack was stepping out of line, and shook her head gently. She shifted again and opened her eyes drearily with a sigh. She blinked heavily and slowly up at him as she brought his face into focus. Then her face broke into a dreamy smile that he didn't think she even knew she made. Just the sight of it was enough to have his heart leap into his throat and to have him crushing her to his chest in a deathly hug.

"Jaime you idiot." He growled half-heartedly at her. "You're never supposed to run."


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