Jaw set, Isla rolled her eyes over to Deucalion as she moved to stand in front of him. The Alpha didn't meet her glare, nor was he particularly bothered by it. He merely tilted the umbrella in her direction and said nothing as she huffed. "Okay, so I know you have kind of a morbid sense of humor, and honestly, it's one of the things I dig about you, but we need to get you to a doctor."

"This is the doctor," her lover replied. One of his hands slipped around her waist and he pulled her out of the rain and to his side.

Isla's blue eyes squinted at him. A raindrop caught on her lashes and she blinked it away. "You better not be messing with me."

"I assure you I am not." Deucalion eased her toward the veterinarian's door. He ushered her inside with a quiet nod before he joined her, closing the umbrella as he did.

Isla was quick to take it from him. With a tight grip on the handle, she was thankful the Alpha had the good sense to put a cardigan over his undershirt (and a jacket over that). The smell of blood still lingered around him, but it had been muted by the rain and the soap he had used to wash it from his face and arms. Her gaze swept over him and, ignoring the few red stains on his jean, she swept some of his damp hair back from his forehead.

Deucalion smirked at her concern before he caught her wrist in an affectionate bite.

Isla slapped his shoulder before she turned back to the counter. It was empty, but with her new hearing abilities she could hear someone puttering around in the back. Righting her baggy baseball jacket, the young woman cautiously approached the small silver bell on the counter top.

The ring of it was piercing and loud, but it got the desired reaction…and an undesired reaction in the form of what seemed to be every dog in the building going out of its damn mind.

"Just a moment, please," a deep masculine voice greeted from the back.

"Take your time, Alan," Deucalion replied. He considered raising his voice to be heard over the howls of dogs, but instead chose to merely offer a low growl. The animals were immediately silenced before he spoke. A smirk drifted over his lips at Isla's chuckle.

"Not nice, Dee."

He shrugged. Chancing a glance at her, the man beamed at the sight of her blushing cheeks and ill suppressed smile. Pleased to have elected that response from her, he lifted a shoulder. "Effective though."

The man who emerged from the back seemed to be about forty, grim faced and clearly displeased by the couple's presence before him. "Deucalion. I've been expecting you." His dark eyes shifted to Isla. Unimpressed, he arched a brow at her. "And you brought company."

The Alpha smirked. His hand gentle on his lover's lower back, he guided the young woman forward. With a nod, Deucalion thumbed the line of her jeans as he introduced them. "Alan Deaton, this is Isla. Isla, Alan."

"Nice to meet you," The young woman told him with a small, awkward smile. "Loving the doctor masquerading as a vet's office. Very 1970s mafia."

"Actually, I am a veterinarian."

"Oh." Isla swallowed and rubbed the back of her neck. "My mistake."

The man looked back to Deucalion. Voice cool and composed, he continued, "I heard about your miraculous recovery. I suppose congratulations are in order."

"I was hoping you would be able to confirm if it's a recovery or just a remission."

Deaton's eyes narrowed subtly on him. "And why would I do something like that?"

"Isn't that what you're here for?" Deucalion smiled. It was cold and wide as he arched a taunting eyebrow. "To help animals in need?"

"Usually animals with your history of violence are put down." Deaton slipped his hands in the pockets of his white coat and cocked a brow that rivalled the Alpha's.

Isla licked her lips be she stepped between them. With one hand on her lover's chest, she moved to put the other on the counter, only to find herself unable. The young woman flinched as her fingers were pushed away by an unseen force. With a frown, she eyed the counter with confusion before she looked to Deaton. Her voice was surprisingly strong as she told him, "If you can help him, you should and if you can't or don't want to, say so and we'll go without trouble- but don't draw this out any longer than it has to be while he's standing here bleeding in front of you."

"Bleeding?" The vet repeated with a hint of intrigue. He looked around her to Deucalion, who refused to meet his gaze as it flickered over him. "He seems fine to me."

Isla frowned and shot her Alpha a glance. Deucalion's hands were slipped inside his jacket pockets. She gave his lapel a gentle tug. Pulling him toward the counter, she urged, "Show him."

Deucalion didn't move.

"You promised," the woman reminded him in a soft voice, too low for Alan to hear.

The Alpha eyed her pinched features and could smell the hint of desperate fear in her scent and obliged her. Annoyed, but unable to deny the simple request she had made out of concern, he stepped around her and showed Deaton his hands.

The human's brows rose at the sight of his bandaged digits. He took a step closer to the counter and hummed. "I see your family upholds the Welsh tradition of bloodletting." Curious, his gaze rose to Deucalion's. "Who did you wrong?"

The Alpha looked to Isla as she raised her hand. With a sheepish blush, she hooked an arm around her lover's waist and admitted, "Uh, me."

"Huh." Deaton's eyes narrowed just a touch. He looked over Isla was new interest; taking in her posture and how gently his former friend touched her hip and back.

"What?" The redhead asked with a bit of trepidation. Her grip tightened around her lover as she looked between them. "He'll be okay, right? They'll grow back?"

"I'm just surprised he would apologize to a Beta in such a…personal manner."

Isla rolled a shoulder and ignored how both men were looking at her; Deaton with his scrutinizing gaze and Deucalion's almost amused eyes making her self-conscious. Under her breath, she muttered, "I wish he hadn't."

Deaton heard her just fine. After a moment's consideration, he opened the counter door and stepped aside. He watched as the girl ushered the Demon Wolf into the back room with careful hands and spoke as she passed him by, "There shouldn't be any lasting damage."

Isla beamed at him. Deaton blinked, a bit struck by the warmth in her expression. It was innocent and bright and so was her voice, "Are you sure?"

"It's an ancient practice. There may be a week or two of discomfort, but they should grow back. Probably closer to a week seeing as your intervention prevented him from completing the set."

A puzzled, but amused, smirk tugged at the young redhead's mouth. "How did-"

The vet shrugged. "Just a feeling."

Deucalion's voice cut between them. "If you two are done, I'd like to get this over with."

Isla chuckled at his drawl and moved to join him in the back room. Deaton followed, eying the man on his exam table with suspicion. The Alpha peered back at him in a similar manner, but said nothing as the emissary moved over to a file cabinet.

The woman slipped over to her lover. Letting her fingertips skim over his knee, she stood before him. Her eyes lingered on the thick stubble that lined his sharp jaw a moment before dropping to his hand. Isla carefully took it in her own. Easing back the bandage on his middle finger, she winced.

"They're still bleeding," she said helplessly. It was a stupid observation, no doubt Deucalion could both see and feel that for himself, but the words had slipped from her lips before she could consider them.

"I imagine they will for some time." He tightened the tape back into place.

Isla moved a bit closer to him. The man took in her cautious posture and eased his knees open invitingly. With a weak smirk, she slid between his legs. Her touch ran over his arm up his bicep to rest on his shoulder. Barely resisting the urge to drop his cheek to it and nuzzle against the soft touch, Deucalion instead let his ankles frame her calves.

The young woman startled when Deaton dropped a file folder beside the Alpha. Its contents spilled out, but the vet paid them no mind as he went to gather his camera. Curious, Isla picked up one of the photos that slipped out of it. The image made her stomach knot. Fresh tears pricked at her eyes and a hand came up to cover her mouth.

It was Deucalion. His eyes still caked with soot and bleeding and the sight made her want to cry. His expression was vacant and his eyes, they were ruined. That much was obvious. The picture had clearly been taken only minutes, or perhaps hours at most, after Gerard Argent had blinded him. With a swallow, Isla reached for one of the others, but couldn't bear to pick it up. She flinched at the sight of it, her fingers skimming over the one where a light had been shone in his eyes, showing just how mutilated he had been. They scared her, but she couldn't look away. Tears pricked at her eyes, unable to forget the sight of him in her bathroom, his claw between his teeth and the dour expression on his tired features.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see her lover frown. It did little to stop her bottom lip from shaking. With a low sigh, Deucalion slipped his hand over the back of her neck. Pulling her closer, he let his brow rest against hers. "Don't cry."

"I'm not crying," Isla sniffed.

Deucalion smirked and tilted her head down so he could place a delicate kiss over her right eye, then her left. Soft and a bit teasing, he told her, "Stop crying."

"I'm not crying!" She snapped at him, but her voice was hoarse.

With a chuckle, her Alpha let his hand wander up to cup her cheek. Fond, the Alpha peered down at her. In the bright lights of the vet's office, Isla's skin was a bit washed out from exhaustion and her hair a mess, but the color of it was intoxicating. Such a brilliant shade of orange after so long of living in a world of blackness; it was nice and he gave into the urge to run it between his aching fingers. She leaned into his touch, her blue eyes dark and glimmering with tears and Deucalion had to resist the urge to sigh. It seemed all he ever got her to do was cry lately. Pensive, he let his uninjured thumb sweep over her temple. "Such a sweet girl."

A smile curled over his mouth as he felt her blush. It splotched her cheeks, twinging them a deep pink as she dropped her head to hide her smile.

Alan cleared his throat behind them. "If you don't mind…I'm ready to start the exam now."

"Oh! Right, sorry, totally…" Isla swallowed and giggled nervously. "Totally lame of us, sorry."

"I work with teenagers," The human told her with a smirk. "I'm used to hormonal mooning."

"Right- wait, you're Alan Deaton." The woman gaped at him, realization coming over her youthful features as she stepped out from between her lover's legs.

The man arched a brow at her. With a hint of wariness, he pulled a penlight out of the pocket of his lab coat. "Yes. I am."

"Scott works for you, right?"

He blinked at her. "You know Scott?"

"Yeah, I mean, I know his mother better, but I used to babysit him." Isla shook her head, a bit bewildered. "Wow, small world, huh?"

"More like small town," Deucalion corrected, not liking this new revelation in the least. Shifting in discomfort, he swallowed as Deaton reached forward to pry his left eye open. He grit his teeth against the bright light, but didn't resist. Isla's fingers gripped his tightly, grounding him and making his chest ache. He hadn't mentioned Scott by name when he explained what had happened at the Distillery; just that a young and up and coming Alpha with a vast amount of potential had given him an ultimatum.

Deaton gave a quiet hum as he moved to Deucalion's other eye.

The young woman's reaction was immediate. Her heart beat kicked up and she pressed closer to them. Her nails bit into Deucalion's skin, not enough to bleed but enough to cause his aching digits a twinge of pain. "What? What's wrong?!"

Deucalion closed his eyes as Deaton pulled the light away. Scott's personality would mesh much better with Isla's than his own. Their ideals were more aligned. She had known him longer. His Beta would be more comfortable with the younger man, could trust him and the idea of Isla leaving him left the Alpha cold.

"It seems as though you've made a full recovery. I don't see anything to imply that it isn't permanent."

Isla squeaked with joy as she shook her lover's hand. Deucalion chuckled but didn't pull away when she planted a kiss on his cheek. Just looked down at their entwined fingers. His were still shaking somewhat, but hers were steady and that was good enough. If she left him, and only took her health with her from all he could offer her, that was good enough.