"Where the fuck is he?" Clay asked, sighing and looking at Gemma, at Tig, Chibs, Half-Sack, Juice, Opie, Bobby, Piney and Happy. The clubhouse was quiet and empty but for them. Jax was nowhere to be seen.

"He's never late to church," Opie said, something in his voice that drew Clay's attention. "I'll go look. His bike's not here. He could be at the hospital."

"He's not there," Gemma retorted, her eyes narrowed, half scowling. "Tara hasn't seen him there in the last 24 hours."

Opie glanced to Chibs, who nodded, and then shrugged, pushing off the pool table he was leaning against. "I'll go look for him. He has a few spots he goes."

"Chibs, go with him," Clay muttered, wiping a hand over his face and grimacing. "If it's the Niners or the Mayans took him…"

"Aye, Jackie boy better not be hurt," Chibs muttered, following after Opie.

"What if it is?" Tig questioned, his dark eyes glinting. "We should get ahead of this right now. Let the Mayans know that we'll push back."

The growl of motorcycles echoed through the air as Opie and Chibs took off to look for Jax.

"He's not answering his phone," Gemma muttered, her eyes flashing with anger, protective mama bear anger. Clay scowled at the look and pulled her in, swearing that whoever had taken Jax would die and die bloody. "Someone took him."

Opie looked out over the road ahead of them, the sun in his face, glaring at them like it too was pissed off. Chibs swore under his breath again, this time not in English, and pointed at another puddle of blood.

"Bloody paw prints here," Chibs said, pointing to one and then another big one. "Didn't Juicey boy say there were no wolf packs in California?"

"He did. And here's…" Opie trailed off, taking a sharp breath and smelling gas and burned rubber. The glint of metal a few feet away drew his gaze and he stepped over to what looked like… "This is Jax's knife."

Chibs stood up from where he was crouched over another suspicious pool of blood and walked over to him, peering down at the metal knife that was covered in dried blood. "There are metal casings back there. Jackie boy definitely got in a few hits. The trail stops though over there."

"Didn't see any tire tracks," Opie added, pointing north. "Just the tire tracks from Jax's bike leading here."

"It's like whoever took the lad just up and flew away," Chibs remarked before scowling, his eyes flashing with something that Opie hadn't seen before.

"If he was taken," Opie said, pushing the beanie further down onto his head. "His bike's missing too."

"He's not dead," Chibs said, blinking in dismay. "Holy fuck."

"What?"

"I think… the lad got into it with wolves," Chibs muttered, before walking back to his bike.

"Chibs?" Opie asked, lowering his voice another notch. "The fuck?"

"There's a bloody footprint off the road a few feet that way," Chibs said, settling down on the seat of his bike. "Human footprint. Wolf paw print here."

"Wolves, Chibs?"

"I'll explain later."

"He what?"

Gemma stared at Unser, her heart beating like a rabbit in her chest. "I could have sworn you just said that Jax got into an accident and then… What."

"He got into an accident," Wayne repeated wearily, rubbing the back of his neck. "No one's seen him in 24 hours, you said."

Gemma took a step towards him, swallowing against the fear that threatened to swallow her whole. "No. Clay's got everyone looking quietly. Jax wouldn't leave Abel, not in this situation, not ever. What happened?"

"It seems he ran into trouble. The crime scene tech found the blood," Wayne explained, peering over at Tig, who was standing behind Gemma, his blue eyes wary. There was a colder air than usual about Tig, something that scared him more than usual, and Wayne shook his head. "We found his blood, bullet casings, his knife and oil from his motorcycle at the scene. We didn't find his motorcycle or him, Gemma. Could it be the Mayans? Did they take him?"

"Alvarez hasn't said anything," Tig said, frowning, a tilt to his mouth that Wayne absolutely did not like. "Ain't the Niners either. Could have been Darby but he doesn't have a lot of muscle right now."

"You found… his blood?" Gemma echoed, feeling her blood drain from her face. "You mean… he was injured?"

"Gemma…" Tig trailed off, paused and then continued. "Jax can handle himself."

"There's that serial killer case that your department has been helping," Gemma said, frowning and poking Wayne's shoulder. "That have something to do with this? That guy that appeared at the hospital suddenly?"

"He was MI-6," Wayne said, shaking his head.

"MI-6 has no reason to be here," Gemma retorted, scowling. "Where is he?"

"Gone."

"Gone as in…"

"He didn't kidnap Jax, Gemma," Wayne argued, crossing his arms. "He's law enforcement. Hoping to help us with the-"

"Find him! He probably knows something," Gemma ordered, her heart skipping a beat or two. "I want my son back now."

It was day 2 and a half that Jax woke up and Harry was just sitting down to lunch, taking a breather from watching the other man. The sun shone through the tent walls easily enough, bringing with it humid air. He heard the slight hitch in Jax's breath all the way from here, saw the guy twitch and move around on the bed, his arm shooting out for something, for anything and finding one of his guns. Harry picked up his sandwich, just a simple one, and took a bite, his eyes narrowing, as he watched Jax sway, as the guy swung his legs off the bed. The motions were sloppy, uncoordinated, and gangly as he pulled the sheet with him, throwing it around his hips, his body. His hair was messy and wild atop his head, courtesy of tossing and turning on the mattress for the past day or so.

Jax's blue eyes were bright with anger and Harry could just smell a hint of fear before it vanished. Jax swallowed right before his eyes and seemed to hide the fear, hide the anxiety behind anger. Teller's skin was covered in sweat and pale, a reddish tint to it that told Harry that the Change was not yet done. It took a minute to look away from Jax's chest though, as he licked his lips, and swore at the heat that tentatively gathered in his body. The man was going through the bite, the change, and Harry had just noticed belatedly that he was hot.

"What the fuck… did you do to me?" Jax yelled, pointing his gun at him. His arm was shaky, his legs trembling as he took a few unstable steps towards the living room. "Who the fuck are you?"

Harry stayed silent and took another bite, his stomach growling before falling silent.

"Answer me!"

"I'm Harry. We weren't properly introduced," Harry offered, meeting the man's eyes, seeing them flash in unhidden, impatient irritation. "Jax…"

"There are no bullets in that gun," Harry added cautiously, smelling exhaustion and sweat and illness invade the whole of the tent. It put him on edge, put the wolf on edge, making him remember the few weeks he had been stuck at Grimmauld Place while Hermione and Ron had gone through the Change as well. Greyback had… died and died bloody, at the knife edge of his claws and fangs. His magic had done the rest, ripped the feral wolf's body to shreds, keeping the guy's pack from interfering.

Jax stiffened and reached down to his bare hip, where his knife had been, and paled even more. "What the fuck did you do to me?"

"I'm not going to hurt you," Harry said, standing up and putting his sandwich down. "I need you to go back to bed, Teller. You're still Changing."

"What the fuck does that mean? Who the fuck are you?"

Harry took a step towards Jax, seeing the man shudder and sway even more visibly. Jax swore under his breath and the scent of wildness, of anger rocketed up another notch as his gaze moved to his bike. Harry heard Jax's heart gallop in his chest and the yell that left Jax's throat was not entirely unexpected. But the charge was and Harry deliberately loosened up his body and kicked out with a leg, as soon as the man was within reach.

Jax tumbled to the floor of the tent easily, swaying more than a little bit as he continued to fight, his fingers curling into fists. The punch he let fly was uncoordinated as well but Harry countered it with a shove, pushing Teller around so that his back was to him. The bedsheet fell to the floor, leaving Jax naked again. Harry let a growl leave his throat as he pulled Jax's arms behind his back, pinning him in place easily. Heat radiated from Teller's body and his nose wrinkled at the stench of it, overwhelming the other scents of gunpowder, leather and metal. There was no telling what was Jax's original scent and what was not, underneath the scents that were coming off of him now.

Jax cried out and struggled against his hold, a sound leaving his throat that almost sounded like a whine. There was just a hint of wolfishness to it that made Harry sigh but he didn't loosen the hold.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Harry whispered, feeling Jax's muscles flex and almost ripple under his fingers. Jax's back shuddered, muscles creasing and moving as his whole body Changed. "I promise, Jax. I'm going to get you through this as painlessly as possible. Though to be honest, I can't do anything about the epic bedhead you're sporting. That's a hopeless cause, probably. Come on."

Jax whined again, low in his throat, and Harry flinched, loosened his hold just a little. "What's… happening to me?"

Harry sighed, closing his eyes for a moment and then reopening them. "Come on, back to bed. We'll talk when you're more awake. Jax…"

Jax groaned, half rumble, half whimper, and sagged backward, letting Harry take most of his weight. Harry hefted him up, curling an arm around Jax's waist and helping him back to the bed, all that feverish, warm skin against his. He waved a hand over the mattress itself, vanishing the sweat that had fallen onto the sheets, and lowering Jax onto it afterward. He sat down on the edge of the bed as Jax curled into the sheets and pillow and reached out, meeting the man's hazy blue eyes.

"You're safe here," Harry murmured, sweeping some of that blond hair out of Jax's face again. "'M not going to hurt you. Now get some sleep and try to relax."

With each touch of his fingers, Jax's eyes drooped more and more until they closed entirely. Harry grinned faintly, startling when he felt Jax arch up into his fingers, like he was enjoying the motions. He sighed, his heart skipping a few beats at the sight, and continued to trace his fingers through those blond strands, hearing Jax's heart slow until the man was asleep again.

"Harry, what in Merlin's name is going on over there?"

He swore and ran a hand through his hair, pacing outside the tent, as dusk fell around him. He could hear the man inside the tent, hear him toss and turn on the bed. The fever in Jax's body was showing no signs of letting up, his skin burning up, and Harry was close to admitting defeat and calling in for help.

"The rogue's bitten people," Harry finally replied, hearing Hermione suck in a sharp breath over the phone. "It's fine. I expected it but I reached one of the 'crime scenes' early and one of the victims was still alive."

"He left someone alive?" Ron questioned, over the speaker phone. "That's unlike him."

Harry grinned wolfishly, sitting down on the camp chair he had brought out. "Either that or he's getting sloppy. I prefer that idea."

"Well, getting sloppy or not, you had better be careful. I sent you over to aid MACUSA for a week."

"You sent me over to kill the rogue werewolf, regardless of whether or not you said it. It's bad press," Harry retorted, shrugging in thought. "Besides… it means I've a better way of tracking down the man now."

"You're going to use the new wolf to track down Emerson, aren't you? It's a good play," Ron commented.

"Gonna have to teach him how to track though," Harry said, kicking up his legs on a stump of a tree and watching as the sun finally disappeared beyond the horizon. "And he might not make it but… I have a good feeling about the guy. Other than…"

"Other than what?" Hermione interrupted, something dangerous in her voice that implied she was this close to sending Neville over to help him. She had been his beta for a reason but she was the Minister of Magic too. She damn well had the power to back him up. All of the old lords and houses had conniptions when Hermione had been elected, a werewolf and a muggle born witch both. Remus and Sirius would have been proud of her really. "This isn't you wanting to get into the man's pants, is it?"

Harry snorted. "You know me so well, Hermione. But no. It's not that. Well, not completely. The man has a gang tattoo on his back. He's a part of a motorcycle club."

"They have clubs for those?" Ron asked, bewildered confusion showing through his voice.

"There are clubs for just about anything," Hermione muttered before swearing under her breath. "He's a part of that biker club that Seamus talked about, isn't he? It was something…"

"Both the tattoo and his kutte say Sons of Anarchy," Harry explained idly, watching as the sky lit up into beautiful reds and oranges. "The guy had a few guns on him and definitely got a few rounds off."

"Harry, do you mean to say he shot you? That's just not on, mate," Ron complained, a hint of an amused rumble to his voice. Harry's lips twitched up and then shook his head even though Ron wouldn't be able to see him.

"No. Teller shot the other wolves," Harry corrected, drawing a few idle runes in the air, feeling his magic curl around his fingers. "The ones that attacked him. He killed two. He tried to shoot me when he woke up yesterday though."

"You left his gun with him?" Hermione hissed, fond annoyance in her voice.

"What, do you think I'm stupid? Of course I didn't. I removed the bullets," Harry muttered. "Besides… bullets wouldn't kill us."

"They'd hurt though," Ron retorted. "Harry, if it wasn't for Hermione's pregnancy, I'd be over there in a heartbeat."

"I know you would," Harry offered, glancing back inside the tent as he heard bones cracking. "Damn, the bite for non magical humans is looking like torture right now. I should go tend to my patient again."

"He that bad?" Hermione asked, worry coming through in her voice. "I can send Luna…"

"No. I don't know how he'll react," Harry answered, sighing. "I don't want Luna in harm's way."

"Fine. Just keep us posted," Ron said. "And keep MACUSA posted too. Don't want them getting all antsy."

"I'll check in later, with an update."

Dawn rose and Jax's fever finally broke on the second day.