"I'll admit, I'm kind of surprised you called me." Surprised, yes. Upset, certainly not. When David saw Kurt's name pop up on his cell phone, his heart fluttered a little bit madly. True, Kurt only wanted David to come over and tutor him, but whatever.

"You're the only one I know who's any good at math. Well, other than Mike and – don't get me wrong, I love Mike – but he's horrible at tutoring. He can teach dance just fine, but math? No." Kurt led David into the living room and gestured to the couch.

His math textbook and notebooks were already spread out on the coffee table. Blotches of black scribbles on sheets of lined paper and papers that had been balled up and tossed onto the floor were all the evidence David needed of Kurt's inability to solve basic algebraic functions. "What makes you so certain that I'm a good tutor?"

"Because you're my last hope and that's just how things always seem to work out."

David chuckled as he sat down on the couch and looked over the pages that the textbook was currently opened to. "I was wondering what you were doing about school."

Kurt sat down on the couch, keeping an obnoxiously large gap between himself and David. "Apparently the state has some law where I have to be provided schooling."

"It's not just the state; it's federal law. All children are entitled to a "free and appropriate public education" until they are twenty-one. My dad did some research on it after I got expelled. I had always thought 'expelled' meant that was it, you were done with school; apparently that's not how it works, though. Where's your dust mop?"

"My dust -? Oh! You mean Alex." Kurt smiled at David; David hadn't really intended "dust mop" as a term of endearment, but he wasn't going to argue with Kurt taking it as one. "He's over there." Kurt pointed over the coffee table and to a spot on the ground next to a loveseat.

David could see Alex, once again, sprawled out on his stomach. It must be his favorite position. Either that or he didn't have the muscles to maneuver himself into any other position. "Well, at least you don't have to teach him to swim." Alex moved his front paws so that they were pointed frontwards and then pushed them back so that they were lined up with his sides. His back toes dug into the hardwood floors, found minimal purchase, and propelled him forward perhaps an inch at a time. He looked like he was trying to swim across the floor, though David had to admit, as slow going as it was, he wasn't doing a half-bad job of it.

"Yeah, I try to give him as much time on the hardwood and tile floors as I can so he can practice shuffling around like that. He's a lot faster than he was a few days ago."

Dave watched mesmerized as Alex kept up the steady pace of pushing himself across the floor. Every now and then, Alex would stop, lift his tiny head up, and sniff at the air; his eyes were still closed and he was probably still deaf, but he seemed very aware of his surroundings. He wasn't sure why, but David felt a little pride seeing Alex progress so much in two short weeks. That was a stupid notion though; David's role in Alex's existence had stopped the moment he handed over the newborn to its father (mother?). "Did his dad come and visit him earlier this week? It was the full moon, wasn't it?" David knew very well that it had been the full moon, how could he not? But he still feigned only vague awareness of the lunar calendar; over-familiarity with the schedule of the moon might raise suspicion.

"Yep! His father came every night of the full moon. I'm surprised Alex has any fur left: Wolf was so obsessed with grooming him. Each night he spent at least an hour grooming him…and me for that matter." David almost curled his lips in distaste but turned it into a flinch at the last second. He didn't want to hear things like that. And he hated to admit it, but he was shocked that the werewolf really was paternal with Alex. But then again, even alligators made decent parents…didn't make them any less of bloodthirsty killers, though.

"If the full moon has come and passed, how come Alex still looks like…like that."

Kurt and David both looked over at the werepup who had run (for lack of a better word) into one of the legs of the coffee table and was having trouble maneuvering around it. David, being closer to him than Kurt, took pity on the little critter and bent down to help him. He pushed the puppy away from the leg of the table, allowing him a few extra feet of unobstructed pathway to push himself along. Just as David was about to sit back and retract his hand, the little moist nose pushed against the flat of David's hand. David could feel the warmth of the puppy's breath as it sniffed his skin. Against his will, David could feel himself smiling. This little guy hadn't hurt anyone…yet. He wasn't a monster…yet. He wasn't evil…yet. A stray thought wormed its way through David's heart, Maybe I could stick around and make sure he can keep the beast under lock and key? Kurt, responding to David's query, cut into his thoughts. "He was conceived while his dad was in werewolf form; it's just more natural for him."

"So…what? He'll be like a reverse werewolf? Turning human during the full moon?"

"Oh, no. I've done some research; eventually he'll figure out how to turn back and forth between being human and werewolf. Like all werewolves, his inner wolf will be drawn to the power of the full moon, but he'll be able to change back and forth at will…once he learns how."

"'Like all werewolves?'" It had occurred to David that there was some way to control the wolf, to fight off the change, but Kurt made it sound so easy. David had spent plenty of time trying to fight off the change, mind over matter and all that bullshit. Nothing had ever worked. No matter what he did, the change always came: meditation, prayer, focusing all his mental strength on staying human, his father had even administered strong sedatives to him just before a change.

"Yeah. Wolf can't because his mind is more or less shattered, but Alex should be fine. Being a werewolf is natural to him; I'm pretty sure Wolf was turned into a werewolf, though. The stuff I've read implies that werewolves that are turned usually have a difficult time with it." Well, no duh. David kept his thoughts to himself, but what Kurt said was kind of obvious. When you're forced to be some kind of monster against your will, of course you'd have a hard time with it. But if you were raised as a monster, among fellow monsters, you wouldn't know any better. There was a soft moistness against David's hand. He looked down and saw that Alex was licking his palm. Placing his hand under the pup's tummy, he lifted him up and laid him in his lap. I'll never let you become a monster, Alex.

xoxoxo

He was having trouble sleeping. The thought of Alex being able to change at will worried David. If he could change whenever he wanted, he'd be pretty powerful. Yes, Alex could be taught to be good, but there were so many children out there, whose parents had done everything right, but still turned into vile little creatures with no care for anyone but themselves. And if he could control when and where he changed, locking him up on the full moon would accomplish nothing. There had been another werewolf in Lima who could change at will; too many innocent people had died because of his "will."

Seven years earlier…

His dad had done a good job stitching him up. But no matter how good of a doctor his father was, he wasn't good enough to purge David's blood of the poison running through his veins. And even though his father had cleaned and mended his wound, they still found themselves at the hospital the next day. Several different therapists, councilors, social workers, and psychologists had tried talking to him. David refused to talk to anyone other than his father. One wrong word and he was terrified that the slayers would hunt him down and kill him, or lock him up. Or maybe the families of one of the werewolf's victims would think he was the bad werewolf and try to hurt him. Instead, he stayed quiet and let his father do the talking. Even when the police came to talk to him, David let his father talk.

"I'm very confused about the whole situation; what David described to me sounds exactly like a werewolf…but yesterday wasn't the full moon. There wasn't any moon last night." David sat in his father's lap, his head on his father's shoulder, his arms around his father's neck while his father rubbed his back, stopping only to gesture in some way as he spoke.

Because of the way David sat, he couldn't see the two officers – slayers – as they talked with his father. David was frightened of the slayers; he hadn't yet come to idolize them as he someday would. He didn't understand how they worked; he was terrified that if either of them got a good look at him, made eye contact, they'd instantly recognize him for the monster he had been turned into. "Some of the more powerful werewolves are in complete control of the change. The full moon becomes little more than a sacred day to them; even though the moon will still 'pull' on them, they can fight it if they're strong enough." David turned those thoughts around in his head; if he wanted to fight the werewolf inside, he'd have to be a strong werewolf. But if he were a strong werewolf, wouldn't the wolf have more power over him? But it had been such a tiny bite; wasn't there a chance he might not change at all? The next full moon was still two weeks away; he wouldn't know anything until then.

There was a rustling sound behind David, the sounds of people shifting. "We'll keep in touch, Dr. Karofsky. If we…find out anything, we'll be sure to contact you." David may have only been in elementary school, but he wasn't stupid. He knew when the slayer said, "find out anything" he really meant, "find your mother's body." David's stomach felt queasy thinking about the fact that he'd never see his mother again.

David hazarded a glance up as he felt someone move by him. One of the slayers stood beside David, looking down upon him. The slayer raised his hand and ran his fingers through David's hair, petting him like his mother used to. The slayer was a black man, but his skin seemed pale: sallow (though David did not know the word). He stared at David for a minute, his eyes full of pity and concern, before turning back to Paul. "Remember, if you need anything, anything at all, contact us." His sentence seemed to weigh more than the sum of its words, as though something meaningful were hidden between the words. The slayer handed Paul a business card and turned to leave, the second slayer following close behind.