Tennyson 'Ten' West (frekialpha) wrote in frekis, @ 2013-03-21 21:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | basil, tennyson |
Who: Tennyson West and Basil Hawthorne.
When: Backdated to March 20th.
Where: The house. Outside.
What: Ten meets with Basil to talk about the past year. And Basil’s problem.
Rating: Low.
Status: Complete.
Tennyson was concerned with each and every member of his pack. From those who didn’t really require much worry at present (say, Cole) to those he didn’t yet know. But one of those he felt the greatest concern for was Basil. Because he had always felt a particular brand of concern and protective measure for the young dominant who suffered the change so much. And because Basil now looked shadowed – and smelled like he had spent the last year living in a pharmaceutical factory. Meeting him as soon as possible had been of the upmost concern for the Alpha, and so he asked Basil to take a walk with him. Outside, where the air was fresh and clean and cool, and away from prying eyes – and nosy ears. Ten stepped out back, his booted feet crunching lightly on the semi-frozen ground. Dressed in boots and jeans and a plaid flannel jacket, his hands tucked loosely in the pockets of it. The tranquility of the place was something remarkable, compared to cities and noisy towns. Shadow Falls had been seemingly tranquil, but had smelled of chaos anyway. Chaos and death, because vampires always smelled a little bit of the latter. Of death and blood, and with so many of them in one place, it had always been a pervading scent. When the door opened again, he turned his head, although he didn’t need to. He recognized Basil, as he would any of his wolves, through scent alone. “Hello, Basil,” he said, and he reached out to curl fingers around his shoulder lightly, a touch of greeting. Ten kept his expression calm for the moment, even, not showing his worry, even though that chemical scent carried with Basil when he came. He didn’t say ‘you look good’ or anything that would be less than true, but rather said, “It’s good to see you.” Because that was the truth. Inside the noisy house Basil found it hard to breathe, hard to get a chance to slip away and be by himself. Not that he truly wanted to be alone but to do the things he needed to in order to dull the pain being alone was necessary. The talks seemed to go long into the night and stretch into the next day. He'd considered making an excuse to leave, blame his job or something... though his job was a dime a dozen. If he'd seen one room to clean he'd seen a thousand more identical and there was never a shortage of shit jobs nobody else wanted to do. Then Ten was asking him to take a walk with him and though he was nervous to do so, having not seen the pack leader in so long, he was also grateful just to get to step into the air once more. Drinking it in though he kept himself bundled in the oversized black hoodie he wore over torn knee'd jeans. His eyes seemed to focus on everything around him, yet on absolutely nothing at all at the very same time. It wasn't until the other was addressing him that he turned to look at the other. "It's good to see you too... I am glad you were able to get free from him." He would not dignify the other pack leader with even a name, Ira deserved nothing more than to have his grave spit and pissed upon for the things he did, and even more so now that Basil knew the truth of what happened to Tennyson. In his heart of hearts, even when some spoke of them being abandoned Basil knew that not to be true. Ten was not the type of man to do so, and thusly death was the only drawn conclusion the dominant could come to back then. He ducked his head and smiled a rueful smile. "I'm glad I did as well," he said, and there was a touch of wry humour in his voice. That had been one of the worst periods of his life, easily. Both the pain and the feel of captivity coupled with the knowledge that his wolves were alone, without him. But now that was behind him, and Ira, his father, was dead, and he was here with his wolves. "He was a horrible host," he added, because he sensed it was a situation that required a bit of levity, and hadn't Basil often responded to humour. Tennyson did not wish to bog things down, not right off the bat,. He was sure the mood would grow heavier when he eventually broached the subject of why Basil smelled like he'd raided a drugstore. He started away from the back of the house, trusting Basil to fall into step beside him. It was enjoyable outside, that brink of winter and spring. "I'm glad, as well, that you are all out of that town." What a horrible town it had been. With vampires all around, another pack in their backyard and worst of all, being confined within its limits. Not much could be wolf for werewolves. Ten slid a glance at Basil and wondered where to start with the many questions he had, and then decided to go to the one that had always been the most important when it came to Basil. "How are you feeling?" he asked, a question that could encompass both the present moment, and Basil's situation with the Change as well. Ten had a feeling he could guess the answer on the latter. "Many a wolf would not have survived what you have..." Basil said with deep reflection in his voice. Not most in the clan in fact, and surely not himself when he could barely survive just day to day as it were. The pain he felt could not be half as intense as the torture that Tennyson went through and yet it was slowly killing him anyways. He smiled at the part joke, it was true Basil was the joker and often used his humour to lighten the load he carried with him and that carried by others. Though it seemed lately even laughter could not repair all that was broken. "We did not leave by choice. We were warred upon, ganged up on... chased out of our home there." Basil told him, "Some did not even make it out though who all I couldn't tell you as that night seemed to go on forever." The images in his head from it foggy from the painkillers and other drugs that flooded his system with temporary relief. "I went back.... to look, but..." He looked away ashamed to have to admit this out loud. "...I never made it even close to the walls before retreating." It was not the act of a dominant to back down so readily, and yet he had. "About all this?" He asked to the question posed, "I'm glad you are back. I feel we need you.... as for how I feel about the pack as a whole or how we will repair the family... I can't answer that!" His eyes darting away, he could feel the truer question punching through Tennyson's words but chose for the moment not to answer that. "I had to survive," Tennyson replied, as if it was simple as that. Which it was, in part - his determination and drive to get back to his pack had been fuel to fight. To fight for freedom, to fight for his pack's freedom from that man who had haunted them for so long. His head nodded as they crossed the tree line, walking into the woods. The trees were still mostly bare and the woods seemed quiet at first listen. But to the keen ears, there was always life to hear. Birds that didn't migrate for the winter, deer, small animals, all the ones who stuck it through and those who were returning now that Spring was on its way. "I know. And I wish you hadn't had to go through that." And he mourned those who were lost, either dead or missing. He would carry them with him, always. He was quiet, and then looked at Basil again. "I don't blame you for that. That place holds a lot of darkness. A lot of bad memories." Who would want to face it again? "That wasn't what I was asking," he said, keeping his words gentle, because he was pretty sure Basil knew what he was actually asking. "How are you." They had worked together a lot to help Basil deal with the Change and then a whole year had disappeared and Ten feared what that might have done the younger man. "I can smell it. The drugs. Whatever they are." He couldn't identify, but he could smell them, the sharp, acrid chemical flavour. He nodded as they walked than paused in thought, "I'm glad you did. I don't think any of us can do this without you. Duncan and Cole tried... they tried so hard to keep us altogether but with the wolves coming from the other side trying to pull us apart from the inside..." He shook his head. It really had been a horrible time after Tennyson disappeared and worse still when the shove to get them out came. Who could face it again? From last he heard the town was no more. Not that it didn't exist but that the vampires and weres alike had fought and had their numbers decimated. Humans got free and... well it would take a lot to rebuild such a place, not that Basil would want to live in it anyways. His hands went to his pockets playing with the lint in the deep corners. "It's nothing... just something that helps during the moon." And all the times in between, but he left that unsaid. His brows narrowed some, a bit of the bitterness coming through. "You weren't around, nobody was around... I do what I have to okay!!" “Basil,” Ten said softly, and he stopped walking, and took hold of the other man’s arm, turning him around to face him, so he could look at him properly. He could hear the bitterness in his voice, and to see it echoed on his face was painful. Painful but understandable. “I’m not accusing you of anything. And I’m not angry.” How could he be angry at Basil for doing what he thought he had to to keep the pain at bay. Especially in the wake of all that had happened. Tennyson released his arm, and slid a thumb along his jawline. “I’m not angry. I’m just asking. Is it that bad?” Didn’t it have to be, for Basil to be resorting to drugging himself? “What have you been taking, and how much?” He needed to know if he was going to help, and he planned on helping. Basil was his, and he helped his own. Whatever it took. “And how often?” His words were firmly encouraging, because he needed to know. to me Standing there unable to look the Alpha wolf in the eyes especially when he said it wouldn't include anger. His face fell with shame and guilt as he started to walk again, not far but until he found a tree to press his head against. "Percacet, Oxycontin, Morphine...." he muttered, "...heroin..." his voice trembled. "...anything I can get my hands on that makes it stop hurting." How often was a harder question to answer he barely knew anymore. All he knew was when the pain would start to peek through he'd take more. He barely had an appetite, he was barely aware of his surroundings most days. Today, here at the place where the Freki met up again. It was the first time he'd been alert enough to hold any meaningful conversations and he couldn't very well lie to the man who took him in and allowed him to have a life at all. He knew how the new pups must have felt because he was just like them once upon a time, maybe he still was. That was even worse than Tennyson had thought. It brought to mind a million more questions, namely where Basil was getting the drugs, and where he was getting the money for them. “Basil,” he said again, and he followed him over to that tree. He wasn’t going to let him dissolve into guilt, or shame, although he could hear both in his voice. He slid an arm around his waist and pulled him away from the tree, lending his own solidity as support instead. “I’m not angry,” he said again, because he wanted Basil to be sure of that fact. “But it needs to stop. You know that, right?” Painkillers were bad enough, but hard drugs, illegal drugs, that was even worse. “I know it hurts, but you can’t keep doing this to yourself. It wouldn’t work forever anyway.” Maybe not what Basil wanted to hear, but Ten knew it to be true. Basil would only grow more and more dependent on those drugs, more and more accustomed to them. He’d need more, and then other things until… well there were a lot of possibilities that he did not want to consider. Prescription drugs were easy to come by, easier than one would think, especially when you cleaned for a living. The harder stuff well that too was more accessible than people thought. Basil had no qualms about the things he needed to do to get his hands on it. It had already become addiction. Not a day went by without at least half a dozen pills entering his body and if he had the liquid boost to inject, he did. It was why he wore the hoodie now. To hide the track marks that faded with healing but came back once again whenever he did it. "No," he said adamantly "I don't.... and I can't!! You don't understand, you don't get it at all!" Basil scoffed. "You are strong, you can handle things. Like the torture Ira put you through... I'm not strong. I'm not the wolf I once was. I'm no dominant... how can I be..." He gestured back toward the house. "Look at Storm? Look at how he is now! You want me to stand shoulder to shoulder with him, brother in arms and act like I can even hold a candle to them anymore? I'm not what I was... I'm..." He shook his head, "I'm nothing. You should just let me go Ten... I'm not gonna be any good to anyone." Least of all himself. “Yes,” Ten said with that same firmness in his voice. “You can. And you will.” He turned Basil around so he could look at him once more, as this was not a conversation he wanted to be having with the back of Basil’s head. It was a difficult enough conversation as it was, but he needed to be able to look him in the eye as he spoke. “You are far stronger than you think you are, Basil. You always have been. Your problem with the shift does not negate that strength.” He could understand why the young man might say that. Why he might feel weak. But being hurt, being sick, did not negate strength, not as far as Ten was concerned. There was more to strength than the physical. “Comparing yourself to others will do you no good at all. You’re not Storm. You’re not like Storm. I wouldn’t want you to be.” Some of the other members of the pack might not understand his fondness for Basil, but he had known Basil for many years now. He knew what was beneath the surface, even at times such as this. “You are dominant. A dominant who is currently hurting and needs healing. That doesn’t change the nature of who you are. If Cole broke his leg, or Duncan fell ill, it wouldn’t make them less dominant. And this doesn’t make you less dominant.” “I’m not going to let you go,” he continued. At that moment he could have well meant that in a physical nature, as he was still holding onto him. But he meant it in a much bigger picture than that. “We will get you through this. You trusted me before. You have to trust me again to help you.” Still shaking his head. He didn't believe that, not for a second did he believe that he could battle against this how could Tennyson even say so was he not looking at him? Looking through him even? Basil was a mere shell of his former self and it wasn't like he was that great to begin with. Loyal yes, fiercely protective... hell yes there too! He'd growl and bark and tear down anyone that came after any member of his pack regardless of rank but that ability came out only in wolf form and seemed inaccessible anymore. "I can't...." he said almost trembling as he spoke. It was something he was unable to even admit, "...I can't make the full change..." he paused, "..anymore." Maybe it was the drugs. Maybe they prevented it but the last two moons he'd noticed he never fully transitioned. Of course the pain was so great at those times that he had to do whatever he could to cancel it out including heavy sedation. "Cole could battle another pack with missing limbs.... Duncan ill could wield his claws and teeth in a way to still be a force to be reckoned with, what am I? What can I do? Lay a manless, wolfless mess screeching and howling in a twisted form that it neither or." He was different, but not in a good way... least not in his eyes. He swallowed hard his eyes looking at the other, "I trust you..." that was never in question, "...but I don't believe." Which was entirely different in his head. He did see Basil, the shadowed eyes, the fragile look to him. He saw what Basil must have seen in the mirrors, what the other pack members saw. But Tennyson saw much more than that. He saw the man Basil had been, the one he would be again – Ten would not think of the alternative, of failure. “You will,” Tennyson said, although the thought was alarming, that Basil wasn’t even completing the change. He had always wondered what it was that caused Basil so much trouble, but this was even worse. Guilt gnawed at him, because while he logically knew it was not his fault for being away, he wished he hadn’t been, that he had been able to prevent Basil reaching such a state. “You are not manless, nor wolfless, Basil,” he said quietly, firmly. “Whatever this is, whatever has happened, that does not make you nothing.” He smiled a sad smile. “You would never be nothing. You are Basil.” And that said a lot in Tennyson’s mind. He might have been damaged and broken right now but that did not take away all that he had been, all that he had done, all that he could do again. “Well I believe that you can. You just need to believe in me and let me help you.” Ten would do whatever it took to get Basil through this. “We were making progress before. We can again. It won’t be easy, and it might seem impossible right now, but let me help you Basil.” "Basil... " he huffed lightly. He didn't feel worthy of even a name right than but he knew he could not and would not argue with his Alpha and pack leader. Tennyson was a good man, a brave man and the finest wolf he ever knew. He nodded his head to him and bowed it to say he was listening or at least attempting to. "I trust you..." he repeated because he couldn't say he believed that help could do anything, he was too far gone to believe in hope at this point. But if Tennyson made good on his word and Basil did start to see some kind of result than maybe he could begin to believe. He wanted to believe... hell, he just wanted to be better. He wanted to be normal (well... as normal as Basil ever would be), it was all he ever wanted from the start. To transform with the moon naturally and never make the pups fear him and his screeches in the night. “Yes, you know, that name that’s on your birth certificate?” Tennyson replied with dry humour. “Or at least I assume as much. Else you’ve been going by a false name all these years. Maybe it’s really Paprika.” A brief smirk formed, a flicker, there and gone, but the expression was real. He sobered again, and then nodded his head. It saddened him, truly, that Basil couldn’t believe in him, but he couldn’t ask for something the young man couldn’t give. So he didn’t. “Some things need to change right away,” he said slowly, putting the weight of seriousness behind his words. “The heroin, for one – and any other strictly illegal drug you might be taking.” The prescription drugs – well, he had a feeling Basil wasn’t getting those in legal ways, but at least they weren’t illicit street drugs. “And if you are doing anything harmful to yourself to get any of those drugs, that stops too. We’ll find other ways.” He was steely serious about that. “I’m not going to tell you to go cold turkey. I don’t think that would be beneficial. You and I will start working together again. Various exercises to help with the pain, with the change. And once we start that, you’ll start weaning off the other drugs. Slowly.” He did not expect an overnight change, he wasn’t naïve. It would be a process, and not an easy one. “And any time, any time, day or night, that you feel it’s getting too much, you come to me. And if you can’t find me, you have my phone number. Text me ‘911’ and I’ll come and find you immediately.” He lifted Basil’s chin, looking him square in the eye. “I need you to promise me that, Basil. Don’t be self-sacrificing in this. If you are in need, do not hesitate.” "Could have even been Steve... fuck, that would suck... only thing worse would be Joe." He gave a light smirk, the best he could offer at that moment. He was a strong man, a proud man despite what had become of him but when Ten looked him in the eyes and asked him to promise him that his eyes filled with tears he had a hard time holding back. His throat constricted as he swallowed dryly and replied back, "I promise Tenn... I'll text you or call. I might be a joker at times but I'm not an idiot... I need help... I can't do this on my own!" because look where that had gotten him? Reaching his arms around the other male wolf he hugged him with a weak grip. To Basil it felt like he was clinging and squeezing the life out of the other in a tight bear hug but the reality of it was he didn't have that kind of strength right now even if he thought so. “You are so not a Steve,” Tennyson said easily because no. Just no. Basil was Basil, someone deserving of an original name, not something common and carried by so many other people. “Or a Joe. Or anything else ordinary. You’re Basil.” And that suited him. “I’ve never thought you were an idiot, Basil. I’ve always thought you were much smarter than most people realize.” Some didn’t see past Basil’s jesting, playful attitude, but Ten did. “You’re not on your own. I promise you that. I am not going to give up on you – not now, not ever.” He slipped his arms around Basil and returned the embrace, drawing him in close. “I’ve known you since you were sixteen, Basil Hawthorne, and I plan to know you until you’re sixty. Or eighty. Or a hundred. I don’t know, but a long time. We’ll get through this.” "I could be a Steve-O maybe but never a Steve or Stevie. Maybe a mash of names like how David and William become Daviam... hmm maybe I'll change my name to Daviam? what do you think?" He cracked a genuine smile though he had no intention of changing his name. It was hard enough to change what was going on with him. He tried to hide it from the others when he showed up but if Tennyson could see it, could smell it on him was he truly fooling anyone? 'Eighty? I don't want to be no geriatric like Ira... do me the decency, when my looks go.. put me out of my misery!!" he teased. A hand laying on Tennyson's arm. Yeah, if he had the pack and he had Tennyson back in his life for guidance he just might get through it but it wouldn't be easy. “I think ‘Daviam’ only works if you plan to make a career as a magician,” Ten said with a chuckle. “And I’m not sure you want to spend all your time in a top hat and tails.” Basil always seemed to be much more casual in dress than that. Not that he couldn’t look dashing in a top had. “You wouldn’t be like him. Not if you were a million.” Of that, he was absolutely sure. Basil was a good person, to the core, and Ira hadn’t had any goodness in him at all. “Besides, you would be one of those cool old people. The eighty year old who’s still going rock climbing and entering all you can eat contests.” He couldn’t imagine Basil all enfeebled and confined to a bed somewhere. There was too much life in him – even when he seemed small and shadowed like he did now. |