Tennyson 'Ten' West (frekialpha) wrote in frekis, @ 2013-04-03 18:40:00 |
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Entry tags: | basil, tennyson |
Who: Tennyson West and Basil Hawthorne.
When: March 26th. After sunset. (Backdated!)
Where: The House. The soundproof study.
What: Tennyson needs to see Basil Change to try and figure out the problem. The Change for Basil is not pleasant.
Rating: Low.
Status: Complete.
Tennyson had known that Basil would not be pleased with the idea of him watching the younger dominant Change, to say the least. If it was as difficult as he said it was – and Ten believed him when he said it was – well, he wouldn’t want anyone to see that. The Alpha understood that. No one wanted others to see them in vulnerable, painful states. And yet it was necessary. Basil could explain it a million times over, paint him a picture, and that still wouldn’t fully show him what was going on. Ten knew that tomorrow night, the full moon night, he would not be able to fully devote all of his time to Basil. But tonight he could. He had his Betas and Roz to watch over the puppies if they had need, and so he could take some time to see to Basil. His study was soundproofed – it was important to have one room in the house that was. For conversations not meant to reach the ears of all wolves in the pack. Or in this case, to mask the sounds of pain that Basil would make. He didn’t want to scare the puppies, for one thing, or worry the rest of his pack more than necessary. He would have to Change himself at some point during the night, but he could hold it off for a long time if necessary. His plan was to see Basil through his change, and then get him tucked into bed and comfortable afterwards before he went to make his Change. And so he waited in the study, getting it ready. All of the furniture was pushed to one side, and he had necessary supplies – blankets, water, some Magic Bags for afterwards, some clothes and a bowl of hot water (that would have cooled to warm by the end). He had all he needed. Sitting down in one of the chairs pushed against the wall, Ten waited until he heard a knock on the door. “Come in,” he called out. Dipleased, it wasn't exactly that but that feeling of exposure and vulnerability was not something he wanted for Tennyson to see. He had once been a dominant. Yes, Ten said he still was but Basil did not feel that he was, did not feel that he was worthy of such a title. His loyalty... where was that when he was forced away from his pack? Did he hunt them down? Did he try to keep strong in their absence? He was a Freki... and he should be better than his current state. Basil wore a dark gray hoodie oversized that covered down over his face just about as he knocked. It covered the way he was already shaking and sweating. It covered the fur already sprouting from the back of his shoulders. This was not even the full moon nor was it even the highest hour that the moon would reach on the pre-eve and yet he was already feeling the effects and tormented by them. He hid his sweat soaked face within the hoodie and shorts but it was hard to hide the shaking that his knees did or the way the claws already extended from his heels... they were not suppose to be there and yet they were. This was part of it. He would be trapped in both forms but neither at the very same time. Tennyson waited for Basil to enter, watching as he did, and he went to close the door behind him, to lock it as well. It was rare, very rare that Tennyson locked the door to his study – even when he was working, it was generally unlocked – but this was one occasion that warranted it. “Basil,” he said, and he could smell a lot of things rolling off of the younger man. Sweat, to be sure, and emotions that could be anxiety, fear perhaps. He stepped towards him to push back the hood of his hoodie, so he could take his face in his hands, feeling the heat radiating off his skin. “We’re going to get through this,” he said, and he could have been referring to tonight itself, or to Basil’s problem with the Change. Maybe both. “If there’s anything I can do to make you more comfortable, let me know.” Ten wasn’t sure there would be, but he wanted that offer out there. He flinched when Tennyson moved his hood from him, sweat dripping off his long lashes and into his eyes. He didn't want for his pack master to see this. This was all a bad idea he thought after hearing the door lock. "Maybe I should just go...." But he knew the other wouldn't let him. He wanted to study him which at the moment, bitterly made Basil feel like an experiment or project. It was the pain talking of course. He knew the other didn't view it that way but how was Basil to think right then? "Let me take these..." he said lifting a pill bottle with various pills in it from his pocket. Tennyson wanted to know how he could make him more comfortable. Let him swallow them all and feel none of it. Maybe even fade away so he never had to feel it again. That was how he could make him more comfortable. “Stay,” Tennyson encouraged, blue eyes watching him. “This isn’t going to change anything, Basil. Not the way I think about you, or the way I look at you. Not my opinion of you.” There was little that could change that, unless Basil went out to become an axe murderer, or started kicking puppies for sport. When the bottle emerged, he freed it from Basil’s hand, and popped the child safety cap off so he could peer inside, to look at the pills rattling around. There were a lot of them in there, enough to seriously harm a human – and possibly even a wolf, he thought. The werewolf metabolism burned through medications quickly, but even that high metabolism couldn’t outrun some things. “Some of them,” he decided, because he didn’t want Basil to seriously harm himself in the name of trying to numb the pain. “How many would you normally take on a night like this?” He trusted Basil to tell him the truth. "It might change what they think..." he pointed out. For even if it changed nothing for Ten, what would the pups think when their leader was locked in a room with a dominant? What would the Beta's think? What would the other dominants think of his weakness. Sure it might not matter because Tennyson's opinion was the say all but.... it mattered in some ways to Basil what others thought. Especially Lucy... though he was pretty sure the other day she gave him his answer to that. "Twelve...." he said, voice completely void of humor, "...as well as a six pack of beer. Twenty on the full moon and more booze..." But he knew that Tennyson was not going to allow him to dilute himself that greatly in his presence. He honestly believed he could save the other, and Basil wanted desperately to believe it too he just was unsure there was any real help that could come. The change never came easy for him, not back when and certainly not now. No sooner had he given his answer than he'd cried out gripping the nearest piece of furnishings he could find. Nails scratching in as his back twisted from the inside out. He felt it though nothing outwardly showed aside from the agony on his face. “It won’t – not if they’re the people I think they are,” Tennyson replied. His pack was largely made up of good people. Caring people. He liked to think that this wouldn’t change things either. It might make them wonder, make them speculate, make them uncertain, but he did hope that, in the end, they would not be too judgemental. And besides, he also figured that getting Basil through this, helping him through this problem, this roadblock, would go a ways towards restoring him in their eyes, but more importantly, in his own eyes. “Well, I’ve got no alcohol for you,” he said, speaking because his mind was wincing at the thought of Basil taking that much into his system. Yes, that would likely numb the pain, but he had to wonder if that many chemicals and drugs were adding to the problem. They served to numb and make the system more sluggish, so it went to figure they would get in the way of the change. He did wince, in sympathy, when Basil suddenly wore a look of pure pain. “It’s alright,” he said soothingly, going over to him and uncapping the bottle. He tapped some of the pills out into his hand. Eight, because he didn’t’ want Basil to be in excruciating pain. “Here. Take these,” he said, offering them out. “And then we’ll get you out of those things so you don’t ruin all your clothes.” Which was a problem for any werewolf. So many destroyed clothes were possible. He hastily scraped the pills from Tennyson's hand, literally scraping the other man's hand as he scooped them dry into his mouth and swallowed with a soft choke. It would take a while before they would begin to work and even then only mildly. His eyes widened, "No..." he said of taking his clothes off. He didn't want Tennyson to see the way his body had become, how its twisted track and flesh upon bone bore next to no muscle anymore. He himself hated the sight of his nudity. He didn't want anyone else to have to bear witness to it. Let the clothes rip, not that they likely would as he would not fully transform. "We should have alcohol... and before the night is done I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't want to pop some of those pills too just to avoid feeling anything over what you might see..." He frowned. “I’ll not take it personally that you think so little of me to think I’d turn my back on you so easily,” Tennyson remarked in a kindly way. Because he knew it was the pain talking, and the worry and the fear, and all the other emotions that Basil was bundled up with. He didn’t mention the clothes again, as that was one battle he was prepared to let go. They were, in the end, just clothes, easily replaced and not important in the grand scheme of things. The important thing here was Basil. Capping the bottle, Ten tucked it into his pocket for later, just in case. “I know it seems like it, but Basil, the pills and the alcohol could be making things worse. They impair the system’s ability to function. They might kill the pain but who knew what other damage they were doing. “Now, sitting, laying down, does anything make it marginally easier?” He sighed, "It is not that Tennyson... you know it's not that." Basil looked hurt that the other would ever think he'd think lowly of him even if joking or kind in the way he said it. "I just mean... I don't even know what I mean anymore." Basil reached up to push his hair from his face shaking his head, "No... sitting, standing, laying down... it won't matter by the time the night is done I'll be writhing on the floor unable to stop shaking. I suppose at least sitting or laying I have less height to fall to my knees from." He thought for a moment, "Sometimes distractions help... video games, movies, music... conversation with myself..." since he surely had not been making the change in front of others. He hadn't really considered that the pills might make the process worse. He merely didn't want to have to deal with it -- but now he kind of had to if he was going to get better. “Well then you need to stop worrying that somehow this is going to make me… I don’t even know,” Tennyson said, shaking his head a little. “Think less of you, or think poorly of you, or anything else. Because it won’t. Yes, this will be me seeing you at your worse, but Basil, I’ve seen you at your best, and that’s the person you are. This is just something that needs to be overcome.” “Then sitting,” he said, and he helped Basil down to sit on the floor. Ten sat next to him, back against the couch that was behind him. He wanted to be on level with Basil, both so that he wasn’t standing there looming over him and also, in case he needed to lend a hand in some way. It was difficult as it was to keep his hands to himself. He wanted to bring comfort through touch, if that was possible. “Conversations with yourself, huh?” he said, tone light, opting to help be the distraction Basil needed. “And what do you and yourself talk about? Unfortunate fashion choices? I think I still have retinal damage from those pants the other day.” Sitting there he tried to clear his head, tried to focus on anything other than the pain coursing through his body. It felt as though there were things inside of him, gremlins pulling at vital muscle groups and organs as they tried to make their way out by any means necessary but they never did. He couldn't remember the last full moon he'd actually changed upon. Was it four months ago? Seven? "Yeah, I'm a pretty fascinating guy. I tell myself about all the crazy shit I've done and then ask questions about it..." He laughed but than grabbed his side for a second. "No, not really." He raised his arm to wipe away some of the sweat unzipping the hoodie to reveal his tank top stuck to his skin despite being loose fitting. Swallowing dryly before another swift pain erupted sending him crying out as his hands braced the floor his back caving down inward as he yowled. A distinctive snap was audible as he bent and his body twisted a few degrees as it was heard. There was no real tell on where the snap was from and there would be more, and more as the night progressed. "You still sure about this..." he panted out, eyes wild as he fixated on Tennyson across from him. "Come on, let's get rid of this," Tennyson said, helping to further free the hoodie sleeves from Basil's arms and wrists. He wasn't worried about what state Basil might be in - to him he only saw Basil as Basil, the person he was and had been, only with a problem to overcome. The snap was a painful sound, and Ten wished there was something he could do to help sooth that pain, something beyond dumping a bottle of pills down Basil's throat. While those might do the trick in the short term, he really was beginning to wonder what they were doing in the long term. "I'm sure," he replied with a little nod of his head, reaching out to smooth his fingers through Basil's hair. "Sure as anything I have been. You just don't worry yourself about I might think, because nothing's going to change my mind about you." His hand slid down from Basil's head, along the back of his neck to settle on a shoulder, fingers rubbing gently. "Just tell me if there's anything I can do." Again he bucked at the idea of having the hoodie, a source of protection to him taken from him but he eventually gave up the protest and allowed it to be stripped from him his arms going around himself protectively as he rocked there for a moment. The tank top that stuck to him with sweat was white in color and as he his back was exposed with the painful popping it was clear the black and blue bruising that was occurring along his back. Small tufts of fur matted and slick were coming through in patches but not the way a wolf's coat normally would. He yowled in pain once more as his chin elongated and then snapped back painfully rattling his jaw as it did. His eyes were full of tears and fear. The change was something that was mortifying to him, even though as a wolf he was much stronger, much braver and much more dominant in nature than he was in human form. Yet neither form could shine through as long as he was going through the strange transfiguration. As if his body was rejecting the wolf inside him, and the wolf within was recoiling from the human that possessed it. Basil shook his head, "Nothing..." because there was nothing that could be done until it was all over. The pills killed in soon after the outburst making him somewhat drowsy though the pain kept him awake. Ten knew, logically, there was nothing he could do for Basil right now. He couldn’t stop what was happening, he couldn’t somehow make the Change go to completion or stop altogether. All he could do that watch, and just be there. And if that was all he could do, that was what he wanted to do. Because the thought of Basil going through this all alone, month after month, made him very sad indeed. And so he drew Basil closer, letting him rest his head in his lap and just stroked his hair/fur with gentle fingers and murmured soothing words. Telling Basil that he would get through this, that he would get through tonight, and through this blockage in general. Assuring him that he was there, that Basil wasn’t alone, reminding him to breathe. He kept up a fairly steady stream of words, his voice as gentle as his fingers. It was painful to watch because Basil was in pain, but Tennyson didn’t think anything less, or anything different of him, seeing him in such a way. Because Basil was Basil whatever the form, human, wolf or something in between. Nothing he could do at all for Basil's suffering had gone on since the first change. It always took him hours longer to make the process happen and now that it wasn't happening at all it was 72 hours or more of the same. Agonizing pain, writhing on the floor not quite human or wolf, cold sweats and bones breaking to the point of passing out and waking again when the pain would work it's way back into both his body and head. Even as Tennyson stroked his head he was miles away from him, crying out as another ripple of pain shot straight through him from the stomach to throat, from toe to hip. He wiggled and struggled to sit up and break away from the man but there was nothing he could do. His fingers curled into themselves as his paws fought to force their way through his skin, the veins puffing and pulsing underneath as the pale pink skin turned dark grey and than remained bruised yellow and purple as he was unable to uncurl them. "More pills.... please..." he begged of the other barely able to see him through blurred vision of tears. He was panting unable to fully take deep breaths and the sweat that coated him earlier now felt like small daggers as it chilled his body making him shake. Tennyson was solid through it all, careful and gentle, despite not being able to do anything else for Basil but be there. Which was a feeling he hated, not being able to do anything. There was no reason he could think of why Basil would have such difficulty with the Change, but then, there had never been, as far as he could tell. But this, this was far beyond the difficulties that Basil had had a year ago. He didn't argue the request for more pills. Now was not the time to debate the benefit of more pills, of the damage those pills were probably doing to Basil's system, and his ability to make the Change,. Instead he just reached into his pocket, wriggling his fingers until he got the bottle of pills out. He tapped a few into his palm and offered them to Basil silently, palm cupped until he was sure the younger man had them. He didn't even look at how many or of what the other was handing him just blindly stuffed them into his mouth and attempted to swallow, but his throat was too dry and he ended up spitting them all to the floor. It was than as he looked down at them trembling as he was that he realized something was more than wrong with this picture. He couldn't keep doing this. He was a werewolf, he was meant to change in fact he HAD to in order to get the hunt inside him out, in order to survive and eat as he was meant to. "Help me..." he whimpered as he leaned into Tennyson sobbing, "Help me... can't keep doing this!" Any of it. The pills, the non-change, the heart-ache he was feeling from being rejected. All of it just he couldn't deal with anymore. He wanted to be whole again and if his pack master could figure out how he'd do whatever it took. His eyes closed for a moment in the calm, lashes fluttering as he faded in and out and finally out. Perhaps he'd be able to find the peace to sleep, likely not long but he had to try. He was safe with Ten there so he had to try. Tennyson took him in his arms, drawing him as close as he could without holding him in a manner that was too restrictive or tight. "Of course, Basil," he crooned in the gentlest of voices, nosing at the top of his head, smelling the sweat and anxiety and the odor of chemicals. "You won't keep doing this. I promise." He could have explained all that they could do, the things they would try, but right now, Basil just needed reassurance, not details. He continued to hold Basil until he stopped shaking with the Change that wasn't going to come. And then he gathered him up, lifting him from the hall and carried him down to the bedroom they had been sharing, settling him gently on the bed. "Try and sleep," he said, pushing damp bangs off his forehead. He counted out a couple pills and set them on the night table, keeping the bottle. "I'm going to Change and check on the others and then I'll be back." Because he would need to sleep as well. Laying on the bed Basil nodded his thanks and did just that, tried to sleep. He might have drifted for a few moments but awoke when his back felt like it was on fire the back of his neck bulging into a strange hunch shape as his shoulders tried to form haunches but couldn't quite get there. He cried out again but let the sound fade into a pillow that he tore into with his incisors if the others were not already out hunting he didn't want to worry them with his sounds of pain. Collapsing against the bed once it passed. By the time Tennyson would return he was sleeping semi-peacefully curled into a fetal position the blankets torn and on the floor. The pills on the nightstand however remained. He hadn't touched them -- a huge step for him to have taken on his own. Tennyson did what he needed to, checking on the rest of the pack, making sure the young ones were alright, checking in with his Betas and the others, before he went to Change himself, going to run, to burn off some of the energy he always had when the full moon came calling, and the tension he felt from watching what Basil had to go through. When he returned, he was more rumpled, and smelling like the woods. He slipped into the room silently, going around the bed to check on Basil – and he smiled when he saw the pills still sitting on the nightstand. “Definitely stronger than you think,” he murmured, the words little more than a whisper because he didn’t want to wake him. And then he rounded the bed and climbed in the other side, making himself comfortable and draping a loose arm around Basil’s middle before he started to drift into sleep. |