Good Boy

Over the last six months, give or take, I had woken up many a time with "oh shit" as the first thought to cross my mind. "Oh shit there's a rock in my ass", "Oh shit it's raining", and "Oh shit that zombie is about to eat my face", were common mental phrases for me.

"Oh shit, that's a hard on" was not.

Now if it was Peter's I would have gingerly removed myself from the sleeping bag and started breakfast while he pretended to sleep. Aside from lingering touches and checking out my ass whenever I bent over, Peter had been a total gentleman after that first night even though he has made it perfectly clear that he plans on fucking me at some future point. But this wasn't Peter's, this was mine and I had no idea how to handle it.

Okay, I knew HOW to handle it but not without the super sexy werewolf listening in on me and I can't deal with that right now.

I laid there trying to think un-arousing thoughts. Fake teeth, shriveled little old men, the periodic table, nothing was helping. Strangely enough thinking about the Periodic Table made it worse. I could slip out of the bag and work my way into the woods but that would just change the location not my growing problem.

Which had reached painful proportions when Peter stirred behind me. "I know something bad happened to you but you can't be afraid to touch yourself."

"Oh. My. God." And if a cold dose of embarrassment couldn't take care of my problem then only a hands on approach would.

Peter's hand rested low on my hip, circling slowly as he pulled me closer into his embrace, sliding his opposite arm under me until I was resting the back of my head against his shoulder, leaning with him as my support. I hissed as he ran the heel of his hand from my hip down to my thigh, applying just enough pressure to make my toes curl.

Fingers trailed lightly up, following the same pathway until reaching my hip once more, returning to their hypnotic circles. I felt myself sway in time, back as his hand moved over my hip fingers brushing my abs the forward when his hand moved back thumb grazing the upper curve of my ass.

I caught his hand with my own, holding it loosely but I didn't know what I wanted. Peter waited, still and patient at my back while I fought against memories of pain and fear and the needs of now.

The needs of now won hands down and I was pushing his hand down my pants, arching to give him the room needed even as my brain made the bad pun connection.

"Peter," I managed to keen. He was warm bordering on hot as he pumped, wrist twisting on the up stroke. Without lube there was not the slide I had when doing this in the privacy of my bedroom but when he ran his thumbnail over my slit, adding another twist, I was coming harder than ever before.

He held me through the shudders whispering, "I've got you", as my body quivered. I expected him to demand his turn as the last aftershock rocked me, to remind me of our agreement and how well he had kept up his end of the deal. Instead Peter spooned me closer placing a light kiss on my neck before settling back to sleep. Body sated I couldn't help but follow his example.

By the time I woke up Peter had packed the camp except for the sleeping bags and my breakfast that was left warming at the edge of the fire. "Let's go sleepy head. We need to resupply today. We're going to town."

I felt the bottom drop out of my stomach. Peter was all smiles and excitement and I was about to have a panic attack. "I haven't had the best luck with towns. Last time I almost was eaten my vampires, remember? And the time before that I was literally six inches from being bitten by a zombie. I really, really don't want to go to town."

Peter let me eat my breakfast as he rolled the bedding and strapped it to his pack. Kneeling behind me, he placed a warm hand on the back of my neck. "Do you think I would let anything happen to you?"

"No, you haven't gotten your toy prize yet."

Sighing, Peter smacked me lightly on the back of the head and took my empty plate. "Get your prize in gear. Unless you want rabbit for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, we are going to stop at the next safe town."

"Safe? How can you be sure it's safe?" Peter didn't even bother answering, just tapped his nose and headed back to the road. Bitching about bossy werewolves I grabbed my pack and jogged to catch up.

It was a beautiful day, cold as the ninth circle of hell, but beautiful. The sky was clear blue with just a whisper of clouds high in the atmosphere. With the ground eating pace Peter set and the lack of wind, I was almost comfortable. Flocks of small black birds flew overhead in tight formation creating miniature clouds with their sweeping patterns and sudden changes in direction.

"It's probably going to snow by the end of the week. We need to think about finding a place to hole up for the winter."

"I've found that it is safer to keep moving. They can't hurt you if they can't catch you." Peter looked over his shoulder with a knowing eye. He slowed until he could walk by my side and throw an arm over my shoulder.

"That was before you met me. I'll keep you safe. Like you said, I haven't gotten my toy prize yet."

"Asshole." I brushed off his arm but found myself smiling at his antics. "Where would we stay?"

"There are a few towns that have been settled a little south of here. I shouldn't have any problem finding us a room for the winter."

"Yeah, I'm sure it will be a snap. Humans are so trusting these days, they are just going to throw open the doors and let us right in, no questions asked or firing lines needed."

"I never said they were human towns."

"Fucking ape shit, you have got to be joking." With a smirk, Peter lengthened his stride, pulling ahead and ending the conversation.

Knowing I was safe with Peter on the lookout, I found my rhythm. There comes a point in walking where your body just moves, it doesn't feel the strain, the sweat, or the panting of your breath, you just move one foot in front of the other in almost a dream state, brain on autopilot as you go. I could cover miles that way.

Peter shattered that rhythm as he forced me into the tree line, covering my mouth with his hand and my body with his own. We lay there, leaves tickling my flesh where my shirt and jacket had ridden up as Peter scented the air.

"I need you to stay here. If you hear gunshots I want you to run back the way we came. Don't stop, don't come back. I will find you." Red eyes stared down at me as he gripped my chin for emphasis.

"I understand. But is it's dangerous shouldn't we both just turn back?" I reached out and caught his hand as he stood. "Peter, is this necessary? I don't want you dying when we could just head over to the next town."

It started out as his patented smirk but quickly slipped into a true smile. "Worried about me?"

"Pfttt. No. I'm just getting used to you and your grossly inappropriate comments about my body. Plus, I'm getting used to eating on a regular schedule." Peter rolled his eyes and turned to go but I caught a flash of hurt before he could hide it. "This morning was nice." I whispered softly knowing he could hear me. "Please be careful." He didn't turn but nodded his head before loping down the road.

As a kid I loved hide and seek. I was the king of hiding, curling up in the smallest areas, finding the best places where no one would think to look and staying silent and still, which considering my ADHD was a feat in itself, long past everyone else being found. Hiding as an adult, well an almost adult, was not as much fun.

The uneven breeze sent twigs scrapping against leaves and bark at irregular intervals. Dry leaves hanging limply on brown branches rustled and crunched. Even with the cover of dead leaves the ground quickly sapped the warmth from my body and I shivered in the falling temperature and my growing fear.

Peter in his full wolf form came barreling back to me, skidding in the leaves as he came to a jolting halt, pressing his nose into my exposed neck. I'm sure my scream sounded manly and brave.

"Damn you Peter. Are you trying to give me a heart attack? God you scared to living crap out of me." Peter pushed his huge head into my arms as if asking for forgiveness and I couldn't help but hold him close. Golden brown fur tickled my nose and I found myself snuggling closer to his warmth. "So are we safe or should we be running for our lives?"

Peter responded with a lick from my chin, up my nose and into my hair line. "Thanks, I'm going to take that as a 'we're safe'." Peter just wagged his tail and trotted off toward the packs to change.

Peter's not body shy and I found myself unable to look away as he shimmered, fur becoming smooth skin in one continuous flow. He was built like a swimmer, powerful chest and arms with well-defined abs. His ass was firm and rounded in all the right places, all of which tapered down his long … "Are you enjoying yourself? Want me to turn around?"

I buried my face against my tucked knees in utter mortification while Peter finished getting dressed. I'm sure I was blushing hard enough to glow. Humming a burlesque tune, Peter finished getting dressed before dropping down to the ground next to me.

"You don't need to be embarrassed. I like that you want to look at me." Checking my need to pull away, I forced myself to stay at his side. "You need time. I know that Stiles and I am giving it to you. I'm not going to jump you because you are checking me out. Okay?"

"Okay." I mumbled to my jeans.

With a smooth motion he stood bringing me to my feet at the same time. His playful banter dropped away as we started down the road. Keeping close to my side he sent a number of worried glances my way.

"Are we in danger?" Hanging out with a werewolf must be contagious because I felt like my hackles were rising. "Damn it Peter, you need to tell me."

Peter stopped, looking down the road while I waited. "There was a road block up ahead." Road blocks were the future of highway robbery. Groups would lie in wait at a blind spot in the road waiting for a car or group of unwary travelers. I had been close enough on occasion to hear the begging and final screams; survivors were uncommon.

"Was?"

"Looks like they took on something they couldn't handle. The road is safe but not clear." He paused on the word clear, giving it a grim weight that could only mean a bloody end to somebody. "As we get closer, I'll take us around the worst of it."

"I've seen death. I'm not a child you have to protect." I didn't want to see it but the idea that Peter was babying me stung. Insulted I pushed ahead, striding down the road in a full snit. Okay, hindsight is twenty/twenty and all that; I should have listened to Peter.

I smelled it long before I could make out the charred husks of cars and trucks lying on their sides like downed beasts. Carrion crows rose squawking into the sky as I approached revealing sights I wish I could un-see. I didn't throw up or cry but it was close on both counts. I followed mutely as Peter detoured off the road and went around the rest of the blockade.

The trees thinned and the small town came into view. It was picturesque, nestled in a small valley, a small white church with a bell tower rising up from the center. After the carnage we had passed it was like looking through to an alternate universe. Beauty didn't belong so close to death.

Entering a town knowing that there would be no deadly surprises was an unexpected pleasure. Peter managed to bypass all the gruesome scenes while leading me quickly to the necessary items needed for our travels. While Peter scavenged for food in a nearby house, I found the mother lode of winter ware at a small second hand store with boarded windows and a broken door.

A heavy winter jacket, mittens, a warm hat with bear ears to annoy Peter rounded out my outer wear. I stuffed my pack and a hot pink Bratz backpack full of jeans and shirts.

"I'm a werewolf, not a pack mule. I think you have more than enough." Peter leaned against the broken frame, backpacks bulging at the seams.

"We could get a shopping cart. Load it up so that we have plenty of food for our travels."

"Mmmmm. And what happens the first time we have to run? Having too much makes you a bigger target than looking weak." I knew he was right but after having so little for so long I was loath to leave it behind. I was the kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar because he grabbed too many cookies and refused to let them go. Seeing my mulish expression Peter smiled, "We can eat until we are little round pigs tonight. Here!" With a smile he tossed me a candy bar.

Leaving our packs in front of the library where Peter decided we would spend the night, we split up to look for other needs; thicker sleeping bags and a tent. I turned down an oak lined street. I was half way down, checking the houses and garages for camping items when I heard it. A slight movement ahead and the click of nails on pavement had my heart pounding with adrenaline.

Crouching, I readied myself to run, hips twisted away from the noise. A patchwork face of browns and blacks topped with a single floppy ear popped out of the yard ahead of me. His pink tongue dangled out the side of his mouth as he tilted his head inquisitively. "Woof."

"Hey, who's a good boy?" My question was met by a flurry of over active dog. His tailless rear gyrated widely making his back legs dance as he bounded toward me. Stopping a few feet away from me, he pranced in place darting back and forth, licking my hands and fingers whenever in range. I stroked his floppy ear and ran my hands down his prominent rib cage. Under the mats his fur was soft and silky.

It had been a while since I had been able to pet a dog, not counting Peter. In the terror of those final days mankind had left his best friend behind to fend for itself. In turn, dogs had formed feral packs, hunting both four legged and two legged prey.

With a canine smile the dog lead me further down the street stopping every few steps to see if I was following. If I slowed he would quickly return to my side, rolling so I could reach his cotton white tummy before bounding away once more. "Maybe you can come with us boy. You're a good boy," I crooned to the dog each time he returned to my side. "Such a good boy."

The dog pushed its way into a yard. The house was a baby blue trimmed in white with a wraparound porch complete with a swing. I was laughing at his antics on the porch when I saw it; saw them. No zombies had done this. Old bricks crusted with dried gore gave testament to the evil that is man. The dog trotted to my side, nuzzling the limp remains of his family.

I couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't get past the pressure and pain in my chest. The chanting of "Oh, God, Sorry, sorry, sorry" registered vaguely as my own voice. Tears stung my eyes, blurring my vision. I dropped to my knees and held the dog close. "Oh, you are a good boy, good boy, good boy."

Peter found me later hacking away at the cold earth, trying to dig a grave for the dog's family. He didn't say a word, just cupped my head gently pulling me against his shirt where I left a trail of dust and tears. Taking the shovel from my hands he deepened my hole as I watched crouched next to the lonely dog.

"I'm going to see if I can find something to warp them in." The hole was deep enough that Peter's hips and legs were hidden from view. The door to the house was unlocked and opened without a squeak. The inside was cheery which was so wrong. No place should look so inviting when there was THAT right outside the front door.

Dog followed me inside and immediately ran down the hallway, turning into the first doorway. It was a boy's room. Dinosaurs covered it, from the T-Rex themed bed spread to the curtains over the window. Nosing around under the bed the dog pulled out a well chewed purple, longed necked dinosaur, a dinosaur that was an exact match to the one resting on the pillow in the center of the bed. I took the cover and stuffed toy before hurrying back out.

Peter took the cover out of my hands and wrapped the bodies. I hid my face in patchwork fur, breathing in the smell of dog, earth, and happier days. "Should we say something?" The last shovelful of earth had been patted down. Peter shrugged before tossing the shovel onto the porch.

"We don't know anything about them."

"Their dog loved them and he like dinosaurs."

We stood in silence; I tried to form words as my emotions tumbled within me but I remained mute. Peter just waited while I worked it out. "Can we take him with us?"

"Do you think he will come?" I tried for the rest of the evening to get the dog to follow me back to the library. He would follow happily until the end of the street and then slip back to his house to lay his head on the fresh grave.

The next morning Peter helped me load up bags of dog food and dump them on the porch. "It might be best to put him out of his misery. When we leave he will be alone with only a cold grave for company."

"Peter, no. Please, don't do that."

"He's lost all that he loves; maybe death would be a kindness." Something in the way Peter looked as he said that gave me pause.

"But he has a chance. Alive there is still a chance that he will find someone. Someone who needs him and that would love him." I touched his arm, worrying at the hollow stare in his eyes.

Peter turned to look at me, head tilted and a strange look on his face. He didn't argue, just nodded and filled a large tub with water for the loyal dog.

Hugging the dog one last time, I whispered in his ear, "You are such a good boy." Wagging his tailless rear he followed us until we reached the end of the street. Sitting he grinned as we continued on. I kept hoping that he would come running after us, barking as he leapt into my arms but when I turned one last time he was already heading back home to watch over his family.

AN: Meh…I'm not sure about this chapter. I was better in my head. Oh well…