Chris watched the crossbreed sleep, the small body buried deep within the long, black fur, contrasting in so many ways. He studied the wings, their complex structure, finding them endlessly fascinating, simply because they were Ezra's. He nosed at them, their scent familiar, their structure not. He dragged a broad tongue over the disheveled feathers, smoothing them haphazardly.

When the fox shifted a little, his head now against Chris' flank, resting over his heart, he smiled to himself.

What am I going to do with you? he thought almost wistfully.

Vin had once told him that what they shared was more than a loose connection, a fling, and he knew it. Had known it from the start. Buck had been a bit more direct.

"You've got instincts, Larabee. Really good instincts. They tell you this is more than just entertainment. You could get that around every corner. But you got him, pard. 'Cause he's what you need."

Yes, he could get a roll in the hay if he wanted to, but he hadn't wanted casual. Sleeping with Ezra hadn't been to sate a carnal desire. Their first time together had been neither hesitant and shy, nor a quick fuck never spoken of again.

It had felt… different.

Their encounters had always been intense, right from the start. It hadn't been a one-night stand to begin with and it had never been a roll in the hay without foreplay or the afterglow of a warm body beside him. Sometimes it had been just shared bedspace, enjoying the companionship, no words spoken.

With Sarah his instincts had told him that she was the right one. She had felt good. She had fit him. With Ezra, the very same instinct had clamored that he was perfect. Chris couldn't compare them, didn't want to. Ezra was the Here and Now. His past would always be with him, the happiness, the pain, the devastation and loss, but Chris had come to accept it.

"Listen to that," had been Buck's sage advice. "You got it right with him."

There had been so many subtle hints and signs. And even more not so subtle ones.

Taking up with an opinionated, contrary man like Ezra had been adventurous. He never submitted. He wasn't that kind of person. He was strong, independent, a free spirit that had drawn Chris close. The stubbornness was in every cell of his body. Mulish, almost. So different and yet so perfect. Buck was his best friend, Vin was like a lost brother, but Ezra…

Ezra had never fallen into a handy category.

It was what made them so perfect together. He met the dominant predator and put it back into its place without endangering its alpha status. He walked a fine line along a razor-sharp edge, and he did it without a safety net. He demanded and he gave, balancing the scales. He was a predator in his own right, never became prey, but he also never challenged Chris.

It was all a dance. A teasing dance. The contrast.

Chris had refused to give it a name, even when Vin openly spoke of it, said the very word Chris refused to. Tanner had called him a lot of names over his denial of the obvious.

It was like a blessing and a curse, and now even more so.

Ezra was his. His alone and he would fight everyone over the crossbreed's life and soul. There was this hot flash racing through him, had him bare teeth and look for a target, to think someone could lay a hand on this man just because of what he could do.

Chris wouldn't be able to let him go, leave the pack and him, but he couldn't name that feeling. Didn't want to, really. It wasn't the same he had felt for his late wife. It wasn't what he had had with Sarah.

The pack themselves never spoke of it either, but they were very much aware of it. It was plain to feel among the Seven, even if one was hiding everything he truly was, letting no one peek any more deeply than he was comfortable with. Maybe, aside from Chris, Vin was one of the few who understood Ezra best. The tracker never commented on it, but he was aware of more than most.

He was also the only one who had seen what Chris had. The different color, the wings, the crossbreed heritage.

Protectiveness rose inside the wolf, had him want to snarl at an invisible enemy. Ezra wouldn't be hunted, wouldn't be chased out of the town or thrown into jail.

Mine, whispered through him with a renewed ferocity that even surprised himself. Mine!

Chris forced his thoughts away from the extremely emotional, very sensitive topic of what Ezra Standish was to him. His mind turned to the storm, listening to it rage, wondering if it had already been upgraded to a Centennial, because it sounded like one. It was a storm that would last a while, he knew instinctively. He and Ezra would be trapped here for some more time.

Another part went over the reason why they were here right now. Larabee knew exactly what had happened and when they got out of here, the moment Ezra was in Nathan's hands and taken care of, he would have a long, private talk with Sanchez.

X

Ezra twitched a few times throughout his otherwise restful sleep and Chris calmly licked his head, the accessible wing, his ears. It soothed him as much as it did the wounded shifter, drawing soft whines from the sleeping man. Muscles relaxed under his ministrations and sometimes a whispered groan escaped the fox's lips.

Chris caught some sleep himself, attuned to his patient's every shift, but Ezra didn't try to disentangle himself again. If at all he seemed intent on becoming one with the pack alpha.

Larabee didn't mind at all.

X

For a while Ezra drifted in and out of sleep.

The storm had by now reached its peak and whoever was still outside in this weather would be an idiot. Chris knew from experience that these idiots existed and they had had rescues of such people in the past. Right now he would be of no use. He and Ezra were stuck here for the next days.

He didn't mind.

Whenever the crossbreed woke, he fed him supplements and nourishing pastes from their stocked pantry. There had been mumbled protests, half-hearted and still filled with a little more fear than Chris wanted to hear, but Ezra followed his orders. He responded to him on a basic level, to the alpha.

Chris kept up his soothing presence, encouraging his pack mate to snuggle in close. It buffered the stress. Ezra gave up his resistance after the second time and just… followed orders.

For once.

Larabee felt amusement rise. Sure, Standish always followed orders, but never without argument, griping, grumbling or just a scowl. It was his nature to be contrary, to keep Chris on his toes, to mock salute him as he left for patrol or to report back late, playing the tardiness card just to see the alpha glare.

Chris expected it, needed it, was always looking forward to the next game they could play.

Now, the protests were just the same, and as always he did what Chris wanted in the end. The medication and food helped. Larabee shifted whenever he needed to check the deep cuts, cleaning them twice more, much to Ezra's annoyance and pained groans.

Shifters healed quickly, much faster than humans, and while it was still a bad injury, deep and rather serious, he was healing. The weakness was the greatest hindrance right now. While skin mended, the body took a lot of energy, the metabolism speeding up, and it was something the smaller shifter had to compensate. With food and water, with nutritious supplements. Since their food supply was limited, staying in his fox shape served both purposes: faster healing and reduced food intake, but a lot more than a normal fox his size would need.

Chris still forced him to eat in short intervals, helping to keep up his energy levels by insisting on the food groups that aided that.

X

"Ezra," he said when the other shifter was finally more himself, clear-headed and awake.

The green eyes held a wary look, but he wasn't as frightened as just mere hours ago.

Chris looked at him, holding those eyes, keeping his own features open. "I already told you, I don't care what you are."

The fox curled his tail more tightly around himself. Making himself smaller. The wings were still out. Thankfully. Chris didn't want them to disappear.

"You are pack, Ezra. You are mine," he repeated with more force. "Crossbreed or not. Mine! Do you understand?"

"You said so before."

He smiled and hopped onto the mattress, nudging against the slightly bowed head. "And apparently you listened. For once." He nibbled playfully at one ear.

Ezra flicked it away, a look of indignation on his light features. The wolf gave it a wet lick for good measure. There was a playfulness in him he only had around this man, and now that Standish was finally his shifter self for a longer time, Chris wanted to lick, nibble and taste him, scent him, leave his own scent all over the light fur.

::I meant everything I said:: Chris said, serious again. ::Everything. You're a pain in the ass, the most obstinate man I've ever had the honor of knowing, and sometimes you drive me crazy. But you are mine. You belong to my pack. You fit. Seamlessly. Like a missing piece. We are Seven, Ezra. Always will be::

::Even though I hid this from you? Something that might have endangered the pack?::

Chris glared, but it was an anger not directed at Ezra.

::You know how my kind would be viewed by the lovely citizens:: Standish drove his point home. ::Some might take up a gun or pitch fork, drive the abomination out of town. Some might even make a sport out of it. Witch hunts are popular, even nowadays, with the right incentive::

The growl ripping from Chris' throat was frightening.

::No one will touch you! You're not an abomination! And no one will drive you out of town!::

::The Judge might::

::Fuck Travis then!::

::I'd rather not:: was the dry reply.

Chris huffed a sigh. ::Travis gave me Four Corners. He gave me the freedom I need to protect the Territory. He might even know what you are, Ez, because he's shown himself to be just as wily as you::

::A… disturbing thought::

::You never lied:: Chris reiterated, picking up the thread of before. ::I just never asked the correct questions:: He tilted his head, holding the fascinated gaze. ::But I'm asking now. And I want the truth::

Ezra swallowed, tucking his wings in tightly, though they slid a little way down again. A tell, emotions on open display, unguarded.

::Okay:: he finally whispered. ::Ask your questions, Mr. Larabee::

He rumbled, the sound filled with more annoyance than anger, but still Ezra's ears flattened in an automatic reaction. It was so completely unlike him that it showed Chris how badly unbalanced he was.

::Chris:: he said calmly. ::I'm still Chris and always will be::

::Chris…:: Standish sounded almost brittle.

He nuzzled against the white-gray head. ::I don't like the distance, Ezra. Not between us. Never between us. You don't have to remove yourself in any way. You never have to be afraid of me::

Chris couldn't think of changing anything between them. He couldn't imagine someone else at his side. He couldn't think of a time he wouldn't want this man, despite all their arguments and heated discussions and different views on a subject matter – pick one, any one. They understood each other; perfectly. Chris had opened up like to no one else before.

Ezra leaned into the bigger wolf, seeking closeness, reacting to the pack leader, and Chris smiled warmly inside. A whine-rumble-purr came from Ezra's lips. Chris lowered his head, resting it against Ezra's, the silence between them neither heavy nor uncomfortable.

I want you close, he thought. Always.

X

Throughout the next hours, they talked. Never for longer stretches, more like an exchange of information in brief intervals. Ezra wasn't used to revealing so much about himself, but there was nothing to do but lay here, listen to the storm, keeping each other company.

And despite what he had always told himself, Ezra wasn't a loner by nature. It had been his choice, a necessity, until he had become part of Chris' pack, one of the Seven. The pack had started to influence him, drawing him out of this lonely, secretive existence, and he had come to rely on them in so many little ways that he hadn't been aware of it at first.

Like he had come to rely on and finally trust Chris. He had allowed a pack bond to form, enabling him to talk to each member through a personal, pack-only connection. That he had also allowed Chris so close on a personal level had been a massive gamble.

A weakness.

And a curse.

Because Ezra Standish wasn't as strong as he wanted to be, as strong as his mother had always told him he had to be. To never let anyone close, to always be on top, to take and never be taken himself.

Chris had become close. From the leader of the pack he had chosen to stay with, to work as a regulator with, to a friend. And then…

He had given in to the desire within him.

Ezra would have been a liar if he had said he hadn't been affected by the play of muscle under the black shirt, the clear sign of a body honed to kill. The controlled wildness was… and had always been attractive. A coiled spring, ready to be unleashed. A deadly killer.

It had been a slow dance, getting closer and closer, and finally the physical attraction had led to much more. Ezra had taken great care not to reveal his crossbreed abilities, even when they had become so intimate.

Now…

His wings twitch a little.

Chris opened his eyes, nosing gently against him. Ezra felt the rough tongue drag over his ears, then his team leader scented the injured wing. The deep abrasions had started to heal, though the feathers would need a little longer to grow back. That would be itchy; he just knew it.

::I'm good::

::You're healing fast. You might be able to shift soon, so I can take look at the injury in human form.::

Ezra pulled his wings a little closer to his body. He had always been a fast healer. A blessing of his cursed crossbreed existence. In the two years he had been in Four Corners now there had never been a severe injury, so it had never stood out just how quickly Ezra was on the mend again. Now the cat was out of the bag.

Chris nuzzled at the feathered limbs, drawing him out of his downward spiraling thoughts again. ::What's your first form?::

The green eyes briefly evaded Chris'. Leave it to Larabee to start with the question Ezra had been most terrified of.

He had promised to answer his alpha's questions. He wouldn't lie or evade, to give half-truths. It was just the hardest truths of all.

Finally, "This one," he whispered.

"So you're a fox," Chris stated, tilting his head with a puzzled expression. Then his ears flicked. "Just not red?"

Because red had always been Ezra's coloring. Red war normal. Red was to blend in. Red was… a lie.

He suppressed the next wave of panic.

"Gray. Always gray. It's… rare. So I changed the color. To blend in."

Larabee nodded. "You presented yourself as a fox to my pack. Why not a wolf?"

Ezra's ears flattened. Dear lord, the man knew how to hit all the right buttons. "I didn't dare," he answered truthfully.

"Didn't dare?"

"You're a Fenris."

"So?"

"I wasn't confident enough to possibly pull it off forever," Standish murmured. ::You would have known. The truth.::

Chris regarded him evenly. ::So the fox::

The winged shoulders shrugged and Ezra winced only briefly at the stab of pain from his still healing side.

::More natural for me::

::But not the coloring::

::I had to make a few… choices. The color was one. I had used red before. It was… almost normal::

Chris waited until Ezra dared to look at him before he answered. ::I like gray:: he said evenly. ::It suits you::

The stunned expression lasted only a minute, then Standish had himself under control again.

"As… as to your question… to answer it truthfully as I promised… I'm really this," Ezra added hesitantly. "All of this. It's my first form."

The wolf blinked. Ezra twitched a wing as if to drive his point home.

"Fuck," Chris breathed, baring teeth in an automatic reflex.

The fox's ears were plastered to his head again and a hot wave of fear coursed through the crossbreed. Wings tightened against the slender form and he felt himself curl up, shying away from Larabee's threatening display. Instinct was a bitch and right now instinct chose to rear its unwanted head to remind him that Ezra Standish would never be a match for this man, the Fenris, the pack leader, the one he had given everything to and for. Chris could still change his mind…

::Ezra:: Chris murmured, pushing his nose against Standish's. ::Ezra, no. Don't. I'm sorry::

Loss of control. Again. So plain vulnerable and open, so easy to read. Ezra was cursing himself nine ways to Sunday and still he couldn't bring up the most basic shields. He was a failure, an embarrassment.

::Ez:: came the soft, coaxing voice. ::This isn't about you. I'm just amazed. Again and again. You are unique.::

His alpha kept up the very intimate contact until the wings slackened and Ezra's whole body relaxed.

::Didn't know a first form could already be a cross between two:: Chris murmured, sounding far from disgusted. It was more curiosity.

::Yeah, well, here I am::

::I'm glad you are::

Caught by the comment, Ezra stammered wordlessly, let the much larger shifter nudge him until he was right between Chris' legs. The large head rested over his back, putting no pressure on his wound, but close enough to bury the sharp-teethed muzzle into the gray feathers.

::You really are fascinated by them:: Ezra managed, sounding wary, but also surprised.

::Sue me. I like them:: Chris answered almost defiantly. ::They're you. Part of you. So far I haven't seen a part I don't like::

Ezra felt his breath catch and something hot flashed through him, quickly smothered as he caught control of himself.

Dear lord, he thought faintly.

As much as they never talked about what truly ran between them, what everyone was clearly aware of, this had been a very open declaration. In a very Larabee way, but still…

Teeth closed over the feathered limb, positioning the wayward wing how it should be, and it was thrilling and disturbing in one for the gray fox. He just buried his muzzle in Chris' long neck fur, refusing to think about it.

tbc...