I should've made Grady's family worse, so he's eager to choose John over them. I added a scene before, but they still should be worse than they are. I tried to make it enough for Grady to choose John over them.
John carried Grady to one of the huts. He felt tears soak his clothes along with his blood, but barely felt it. As he was set down on a bed, he stretched himself out on it, his entire body shaking. Through his shock, he was vaguely surprised by how comfortable the bed was. It was almost as good as the one at home. He buried himself under the cotton blanket, his tears soaking the sheets.
"I'm so sorry you had to go through that," John apologized, pulling the rest of the blanket over him. Grady looked up into his deep green eyes. "This is why I wanted you to leave. Well, I didn't want you to witness the fight or get hurt. But I definitely didn't think you'd join in."
"Neither did I," Grady admitted, unable to stop another sob from escaping. "Oh, I'm being a baby. You came out way worse than me, and you're not crying." He eyed John's scratched face and bloodied hands.
John reached out and ran a rough, callused hand through his damp hair. Then he did something Grady wasn't expecting. He leaned over and kissed his forehead.
Grady was so shocked by that, he did stop crying momentarily. John seemed surprised as well, quickly turning away. "Well, welcome to my home," he stated dryly. "If I can call it that anymore. It's been so long since I've been in this place."
"This is your home?" Grady realized how surprisingly nice the room actually was. It was still something his mother and sister would turn their noises up at, but it was cosy and comfortable enough, a soft-looking couch and chairs next to the bed. There was even a... TV? Grady rubbed his eyes, not knowing if he was seeing that right.
"Used to be," John remarked wryly. "Before they kicked me out, because I wasn't a 'proper werewolf'. Not that I mind. I like my shack in the swamp much better."
"But this place seems nicer," Grady argued, surprised by his words.
John scoffed. "It's not so nice when you're surrounded by others who hate you."
"Oh, definitely not," Grady agreed.
His eyes drew to the large, black television screen. "You have a TV?"
"We werewolves aren't cavemen," John griped. "This is where we lived before... before the disease."
It was hard for Grady to imagine an entire town of werewolves - no, an entire town of people. That's what they used to be. He almost laughed as he imagined the werewolves watching television.
"No wonder they built the town on the other end of the swamp," John added. "Maybe they didn't want anything to do with us."
John grew serious. "Grady, you really should leave. They'll come here eventually, and they'll kill me. I don't want you to see that."
"I won't let that happen!" Grady insisted. "I'll tell them—"
"You won't be able to," John insisted sadly. "Do you know how they feel about beasts, like me? In fact, it'll probably just make things worse. They're probably convinced that I've brainwashed or manipulated you somehow, as well as kidnapping you. It doesn't look good for me. A werewolf with a human... a human child, at that."
"You're just as human as they are," Grady insisted. "Maybe more."
John stared at him in surprise. "How can you say that? You saw what I did..."
"And you saw what I did," Grady retorted. He remembered how he had lunged at his sister earlier. Maybe the werewolves were rubbing off on him. That was just a warm-up before he killed off a few. "If you're a monster, I am as well."
"I did most of the work," John pointed out. "It wouldn't have taken much to end them."
"We collaborated on it," Grady suggested, shocking himself by making a joke.
John allowed himself a grim smile, before turning serious again. "You should leave. Go back to your family. They're probably missing you."
"No," Grady insisted. "I won't go back to them. They've never been a family to me."
John stared at him in surprise. "They always left me alone and told me how weird and different I was," Grady said. "You've been more like family than them. More like..." He paused, not wanting to say the word. More like a father.
A small smile crossed John's face before disappearing. "They won't let you stay with me," he insisted. "They'll take you away."
"No they won't," Grady insisted. He felt hesitant about his own words. Maybe it was just his remaining anger towards them for his notebook clouding his judgment, but it wasn't just that. He remembered all the times his parents had left him alone while taking his sister to her favorite places, all the times they had ignored him and not cared about what he was interested in, all the times they had called him weird and a freak (and not just his sister). "I... I won't let them. I'll leave with you."
John looked alarmed. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean, I'm not returning to my family," Grady said, sounding more sure than he felt. "I'm leaving with you. We could run off where no one could find us."
"You aren't thinking right," insisted John, holding more of the water up to his mouth.
"I'm serious," Grady insisted. "I won't let them take me away. They probably don't even want me to return. They never have time for me."
"That's not true," said John. "They're still your family."
"How about your family?" Grady pointed out.
"They aren't my family," John argued after realizing who he was referring to.
"Maybe not, but they're the remaining ones of your kind," Grady noted. "You've been together for a long time. And how do they treat you?"
John hesitated. Grady could tell he understood. "Neither of our families need us. We should run away together."
A smile crossed John's face. "Well, if there's no changing your mind..."
Suddenly remembering, Grady pulled the carving of the dog he had brought out of his pocket. John was surprised upon seeing it, before inspecting it, remembering he had made it for Grady.
"Let's go, before they find us," said Grady.
John didn't reply, but slowly wrapped his arms around Grady's shoulders. Grady returned the embrace, burying his face into him.
