It was more than a little weird, to not be alone.

That's probably true for both of us, Sabo admitted to himself, muffling his groan of pain into dense, dark fur as the werewolf helped him wobble out through their window. Ace only has the bandits, and I only… he couldn't help the scowl that darkened his expression, nor manage to entirely hide how his scent must have soured, with how Ace whined in confusion.

"It's fine," he mumbled, "Don't stop, we gotta get out, before–" deeper in the house, they could hear the tell-tale creaking of floorboards and annoyed grumbling. "–Quick, quick, just…!" Sabo yelped when Ace reared back, twisting awkwardly in order to catch a careful mouthful of Sabo's coat and just yanked him to sprawl over Ace's back. His hands fisted instinctively into a coal grey coat as claws scrabbled noisily against wood.

The door slammed open just as they both toppled to the dirt outside. "You little––!" Dadan yelled. Sabo, still clinging to Ace's back, giggled helplessly. He could feel the muscles shifting under his cheek, heartbeat pounding under dark fur as Ace broke into a run. "Get back here, you damn brats!"

Ace's tongue lolled out of his mouth, panting loudly, and Sabo reared back through the pain just enough to wave goodbye. Leaves and twigs slapped him as Ace burst through the undergrowth, flowers and branches catching on his coat. He nearly lost his hat to the forest, if he didn't risk pulling a hand off Ace's fur to grab it. "Slow down!" He whispered, "I'm not as streamlined as you!" But he didn't tell Ace to stop. His voice was still pitched high and breathy, running off adrenaline and excitement so clear he could hear it in his own words.

They didn't stop until Dadan's voice faded out into the usual sounds of rustling leaves and birdsong.

Ace crouched down low, allowing Sabo time to slip off his back. He grumbled for it the whole way, but the moment his toes even skimmed the grass there was no hiding his wince of pain, nor the way his legs immediately folded under his weight. Ace tried to put him down as slowly as possible."W-wait," Sabo said. His brow furrowed in confusion. "Why am I sitting down? I thought we were going to get breakfast." He tried to sit up more fully, pressing weight on his leg, and Ace huffed in annoyance and lightly pressed his paw down on his good knee. A hesitant little laugh shuddered out of him when Ace pressed his nose to his hand trying to nudge him away and it was worth the embarrassment of wagging his tail when it made blue eyes light up in a hazy mirth.

"I never said we," Ace said. It didn't come out as gentle as he wanted. Sabo faltered and he winced, looking away and Ace cursed in his head, rushing to explain as something hot and uncomfortable bubbled up in him. "You're too injured to help me hunt. I'll catch us something myself. Just wait here and… Do human things, or whatever." The incredulous expression that gained him was enough to make him roll his eyes. "You really think you can take down a tiger like this? You can't walk!"

"I can! I'm not dying!"

"You don't even have your pipe! It's not like you have claws!"

It was was enough to have Sabo's jaw snapping shut. The blond was visibly uncomfortable with every little reminder that he was unarmed– there was no real way to guarantee his pipe was still where he left it in the Terminal. Hell, there was no real way to tell whether anything he hid was still there. Ace hadn't lived there like Sabo had, but he doubted someone hadn't already stumbled into whatever hide-out Sabo had created. As far as strength went, Ace far outstripped him at the moment.

Couldn't walk, couldn't fight. Moving his bad leg at all made Sabo's face spasm with barely restrained pain. If they had been equally matched before, he was essentially helpless now.

(They had been carefully avoid the "what-ifs" since Sabo woke up. Didn't say a word, when Ace helped him change the bandages with shaking hands. What they were supposed to do now. What would happen next. The unspoken questions of infection, of whether Sabo would even heal enough to run like he used to.)

(Sinews to shreds. Blood had never smelled so sickening, before.)

Sabo turned away. Finally sat back, carefully tucking his legs into his chest. "Fine," He snapped, "Once I heal I'll kick your ass."

Ace was surprised with how okay with that he was. He slowly relaxed, fighting not to smile. "Yeah, whatever. I'll be back soon."

He turned away, trotting into the trees to find a good scent trail to track.

Maybe if I take long enough, he'll have found some of those cool "herbs" or something to make the meat taste better again. That'd be nice.

Sabo couldn't walk. He wouldn't be able to for a while, and knowing the bandits he'd have to pretty much rely on Ace to get food until he healed a little. He should really be more mad than he was, about that– but really, Ace was kind of… happy about it.

It felt nice, to provide for someone he actually cared about. As if he had a real pack.

What the hell am I thinking?

He shook it off, breaking into a run. A boar or two would be good. Afterward, Ace could show him the stream with the cleanest drinking water, and the cliff by the sea. Maybe they could find more fruit, if Sabo wasn't too tired. For a human, Sabo was… probably the best company he had ever had.

...It really is nice.

The wound was starting to heal. The first few weeks more than a little disheartening for both of them, to see so little progress– Sabo's leg still bled heavily under very little pressure. Even where there weren't physical tears in the flesh, his skin was dark black and blue circling around his entire calf. Ace wasn't exactly someone of medical expertise but he didn't doubt the bruising went all the way through to the bone.

(With the way Sabo had been screaming, he was surprised that his leg didn't snap. Or sever. But he wasn't going to say that. Wasn't going to even think about it, not with the way the thought twisted his gut into tight, painful circles. Not with the way Sabo resolutely avoiding catching his eyes on the bandages. Not when they had plenty enough to be worried about already to waste time on more past possibilities.)

So far though, they were doing… okay. Dadan had given Sabo a sip of alcohol that smelled more than a little nasty, and then signaled for a bandit to stitch him up. Sabo was too distracted to notice and Ace would never tell him about how he had hovered over him, glaring everyone down until the last stitch had been made. He didn't know whether Sabo had ever needed to get stitches before, but Dadan had warned him not to let them break and Ace was going to take that seriously.

Besides that, it was pretty simple. Keep dry, keep clean. Ace knew well enough how to wrap a bandage, and as long as Dadan kept leaving them more (He always woke up the moment she entered the room. If she wouldn't bring it up, neither would he. He owed her that much) Sabo would be fine.

Probably.

He was still struggling to move around freely. Ace didn't have to carry him anymore, at least, though he still more often than not was forced to heavily lean into the werewolf's side. Ace had become used to moving at a very slow trot and it took a bit of annoyed prodding now to remind him he could go a little faster. Having any progress at all was good, was really good– they had both admittedly gotten too excited when a bandage change turned to chaos after Ace realized skin was regrowing shallowly over the punctures. Every day before that, something as small as not bleeding through the bandages was a victory.

(Neither of them would mention the strained relief every time they failed to find a sign of infection. They had spent more than one day obsessively harvesting as many of the berries Sabo mentioned to fight infection as they could, despite having an actual medical kit and disinfectant ready.)

Even once Sabo could join Ace on hunts, after sneaking into the Terminal for a new pipe (and finding his old one, to his pleasure,) they still shared every meal. It was easier to just share their kills. Definitely not worth the useless pride of competition and spite.

(That wasn't the truth though. Ace just liked having someone there, beside him. Food did taste better when you ate it with someone– especially when there was more than enough, and the company was his age, and happy to see him, and–)

Ace froze when Sabo thrust a hand out in front of him. He was already moving to swat it away before pausing again as Sabo turned wide eyes on him, lips pursed tightly.

(He last saw that expression over a month ago. He saw it nearly the same, without the blanket of confusion over the old, more primal fear. Rigid posture and keen glare— Sabo would make a good wolf.)

"Are there supposed to be other people who come here?" He asked in a low whisper, and Ace took a wary sniff—

"I can hear you brats!"

Ace shrieked. Grabbed Sabo and flung them both out of the way just as Garp crashed through the undergrowth like a freight train. He was already rushing to shove Sabo further under a broad-leafed bush even as he turned to face Garp. "You shitty old man," he snarled. Tail high, ears tall, arms out— anything to distract the older werewolf from where he frantically nudged at his human with his foot. "What the hell are you thinking?!"

His outrage only earned him a slightly maniacal bought of laughter, gruff and unfairly foreboding. The marine loomed over him without even trying. "What, I can't come and show affection to my grandson?!" Behind Ace, Sabo stumbled and braced himself, snapping branches under his weight as he went and Garp went still.

Mirth immediately halted, his nose rose to the air. "...Ace," He started. Ace jolted, unsettled by the uncharacteristic seriousness of the old man's tone. "Why do I smell blood?"

It wasn't a good sign. It was a terrifying, actually. The adrenaline of being found out was quick and heated, pulsing like a wildfire under Ace's skin, and yet–

"The stitches!" He gasped. Garp was immediately forgotten in favor of scrambling under the brush. Sabo had barely moved more than an inch. Curled up and face pulled tight with pain, sweat dripping off his face and teeth buried in his lip– Ace's hands shook when he carefully pulled pale hands away from the wound. "Goddammit, did they break? Sabo, did they break?!" There was still a roll, in his back pocket. He always kept them on hand now, just in case. There was another one tucked into the lens of Sabo's goggles, against his hat, and one more he had snuck into the blond's inner pockets when he had passed out from pain over a week ago and never found.

He had no qualms about using his claws to slice the fabric clean off him. It was an easy motion by that point, quickly revealing marks still sluggishly bleeding– but no broken stitches. Sabo hissed through his teeth but didn't fight him, all too used to Ace's slightly rudimentary methods by that point. There wasn't much he was about to do over trying to breathe through the pain, eyes squeezed tightly shut and skin sickly pale.

It was remarkably silent when he slumped forward, breathing out slowly.

Ace's heart was still pounding a little too hard to do more than flinch when Garp kneeled heavily beside him.

"What happened?" He asked quietly. For a long moment, his question went unanswered by both boys. Even with his eyes pinned to the dirt, Ace could see Sabo straining to scoot further away. Ace wasn't really… ready to say anything either. Garp only shifted to sit more comfortably on the ground, his own tail untucked from his pants still behind him and ears high.

There was no escaping that keen stare. Nor was there a chance of ignoring an order from an alpha, whether Ace truly considered Garp pack or not anymore. "...The humans down in the Terminal started setting traps," He mumbled.

He didn't have to look up. The air itself seemed to sting with the stench that suddenly permeated from the older werewolf.

"I see."

A cold sweat broke over the nape of Ace's neck. He physically couldn't bring himself to look up even though he knew none of Garp's tone was directed at him. His body was instinctively reacting, pressing his ears back and eyes down. Sabo, even without the intricacies known to Ace through his own enhanced senses, smelled like he wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and never come out.

Ace's head got pushed down under a rough palm, more gentle than he had experienced in… in a long time. He finally managed to look up. Garp smiled at him, rubbing a bit too harshly at the base of his ears– "Stay with Dadan for today, boys, Your Grandpa is going to go meet some new friends."

Both of them were left gaping as he stood up to leave. Sabo didn't even flinch when the older man leaned forward to pat his head, nearly pushing him off balance in the process.

He hummed as he went, cheerfully prancing away into the trees. Ace wasn't fooled enough to miss the tense line of his shoulders, nor the twitch in his hands– but neither he nor Sabo were able to speak a word until Garp was well out of sight.

"You have a grandpa?" Sabo eventually choked out.

"Yeah." How was he supposed to explain this. Damn Garp and his shitty adoption tendencies– "...I think you do too, now."

happy thanksgiving yall. im still very sick and exhausted and honestly forgot to post this here after posting it to ao3 first ! as one does.. professionalism at its finest, demonstrated through an unedited werewolf fic...