It was sometime around four in the morning when Michael finally dozed off. Dr. Anjali Kulkarni, the Pack's primary physician, had worked overtime, abandoning her dinner to help them. Sure, she did it while giving them an extensive tongue lashing, but she didn't let him bleed to death. It was a mix of luck and his supernatural interference that the internal damage was manageable without major surgery. Just a lot of stitches and bed rest.

As his body slumbered, Michael remained awake. In truth, he had never slept in his entire existence. The bodies he occupied would, but he was constantly aware. Though on an average night he would waste his time reflecting on daily events or making up little games to keep amused. Unfortunately this sleep cycle was far more eventful as he examined the fledgling soul of Hunter. He was worried about the memories left by the Blue Room ambush and what kind of mental scar it might leave.

He was no master of the metaphysical, but soul cultivation was a hobby of his. After all, these new existences would take over once he finished his mission, so he liked them to be capable.  Dread hounded him as he reviewed the memories of the attack. Traumatic events were permanent, unlike the other interactions that made up his time in his host's body. Where his out of character conversations with Alexander and private actions could be written out by him or Leona once he left, any major injury or emotional event couldn't. In the past, he had accidentally shattered novice souls because of extreme incidents. It wasn't impossible to rebuild them, but the second go-around was always harder and he had noticed that they often lived shorter, more chaotic lives when compared to successful first attempts.

As he checked over the memories, a sense of relief washed over him. There were only minimal fractures, something he could easily manage.

With a delicate touch, he weaved together a better narrative from existing memories and new additions. He helped to rationalize the decisions he made and numb the pain. Anytime they used their real names, he muffled it till a cohesive story formed. The soul quickly adapted and accepted these changes, which impressed Michael. On a bit of a roll, he enjoyed himself as he played with a few new ideas he thought would be cool for his successor.

Unfortunately, his work did not go undisturbed.

There was a building pressure, something from the physical world that disturbed his concentration. He tried to ignore it as he was in no mood for such trouble. Sadly, his mood didn't matter as the pressure broke through and took the form of an ungodly screeching. He tried one more time to shut it out, but his body was naturally waking up as the screeching evolved into a pounding headache.

The sound got worse, growing into a bastard combination of high-pitched howling and growling that rampaged through his skull and kicked at his tender brain.

Now fully awake, he kept his eyes closed, hoping that the noise would leave once it realized that someone was sleeping. Instead, the air echoed with the crisp snap of something heavy breaking. A roar cut over everything, loud and feral as it reverberated through his poor bones.

Fueled by resentment, Michael's eyes snapped open and then immediately shut. Blossoms of white swam behind his eyelids, brought on by the harsh fluorescent lights that lit the room. He tried again, squinting and blinking until they adjusted to the scene. 

Packland's infirmary differed from HQ's communal setup. Rather than a series of beds separated by fabric curtains, they instead had small private rooms that were simple in style. A single square window broke flat pale walls, letting in a little light as an abstract blue painting hung across from his bed. There was minimal furniture, which made the room seem large. Though, at the moment, four furry figures crowded the space.

Michael squinted again, forcing his vision back into focus to get a look at these intruders. The first ones he made out were the two massive humanoid wolves, one red and the other brown, that grappled each other. The red one's face burrowed into the fur of the other as he clung on from behind. Meanwhile, an agile, though no less large, golden leopard wrapped up around the waist of the rampaging werewolf. The grappled wolf struggled for his freedom though his ire was focused on something in front of him that Michael couldn't see.

However, even with a raging werewolf in his room, his attention wavered as it caught a ridiculous image. An out of season werepenguin stood at the end of his bed. His arm wings were spread wide as if to protect him from the struggle. It was difficult for Michael to stifle his laugh as he took in the outrageous sight of a six-foot-tall penguin. After a few seconds of chortling, he regained himself and noticed that one person was missing.

An unshifted Alexander calmly regarded Richard even as the werewolf growled in his face. An empty smile offered mocking sincerity as he let out a slight sigh and tsked. "Feeling better?" His composed voice barely concealed his sarcasm as he raised an eyebrow. "I feel like you did a fantastic job showing the table that you were the Alpha. Quite dominating." He gave two brisk claps.

"Neil!" Trisha's back claws dug deeper into the linoleum floor as she attempted to anchor herself. If they didn't keep a handle on Richard, her cousin's ass was ground meat.

"What? I was just giving him my honest admiration. I had never witnessed the true strength of our Pack Alpha. I'm impressed. Anyway, as for the answer to your question. No, it is no one but mine and Hunter's business. If you want to discuss another topic, I'm open. However I feel such discussions should be done calmly. After all, as men our most important trait is our composure. Without it we'd be little more than beasts." Alexander sneered.

"Shut up!" Trisha growled.

"Yes, I think quiet would have done us all a favor. Unfortunately, I have to defend myself as Richard isn't satisfied with my honest answers. So we are at an impasse. What else can I do? At the heart of it, some of us like to keep our personal lives private and our mates close," He taunted.

"Neil." Michael wasn't loud. The ruckus of the dog pile and various growls nearly drowned it out. But Alexander froze, the unspoken warning understood as he turned to look at him with a shifting expression.

Before he could say anything the door swung open and an exhausted Dr. Kulkarni walked in. Her wrinkled white coat was the only sign of her profession as a pair of jeans and a well-beaten band T-shirt were visible underneath. Her long white-streaked black hair swung in a messy braid as she suddenly stopped. Copper eyes running over the scene. First, they fell on the contortion of entangled Werebeasts before flickering over to the unshifted Neil followed by Roald who protectively blocked the end of their patient's bed and finally ended on the broken wood table that sat sadly in the middle of the mess.

"Out." The command was a low growl. "Anyone who currently is not human, get out." When no one moved, she glared at Richard. Even though he was at least two heads taller than her, 200 pounds heavier, and armed with sharp teeth and claws, she did not waver. "You have until the count of three."

Alexander took this time to slide over to Michael and straighten a few pieces of loose black hair that clung to his damp forehead.

Richard didn't break the stare as Dr. Kulkarni counted down. Neither budged, but the alpha was at a disadvantage as Rusty gave a response. "Got it Doc." He did his best to pick up his misbehaving nephew. Luckily, he had a few pounds on him. With some maneuvering, he lifted him enough for Trisha to come in and supplement his strength. Together, they dragged out the fuming werewolf.

"Me too?" The penguin asked, still glued to his spot.

"Really, Roald?"

"Sorry Doctor," He squawked and shifted back into his human form. Unfortunately, his scrubs were now in shreds. "I didn't mean to, but when Richard gets like that..."

"I know. Go get dressed." She looked over at the couple. "I'll talk to our patients."

Roald nodded and dodged out, leaving the three behind in silence.

"You are extraordinarily lucky," Dr. Kulkarni crossed her arms, shaking her head. "Unrealistically lucky."

"It's a talent," Michael smiled.

"Yes, it seems so. Two gun-shot wounds, a fractured shoulder, two broken ribs, a concussion, and several lacerations. How you managed not to bleed to death is a mystery in and of itself. If I didn't have confirmation from your mate," she glared at Alexander, "and Wynne, I would have guessed you were a Werebeast. But they said you are, in fact, human. So, I'm left wondering how you didn't die."

"It's as you said, Dr. Kulkarni, I'm very lucky."

"Well, this luck is over. You're not allowed out of this bed for at least a week. We are keeping you under observation for the concussion. As for the rest, don't expect a quick recovery. Wynne might have said you were a fast healer, but these injuries aren't normal. Especially those claw wounds. If you experience any discomfort, nausea, severe headaches, or out of the ordinary physical sensations, let Roald or I know right away."

"I understand," Michael nodded before raising an eyebrow. "So, you're close to Dr. Redfield?"

Dr. Kulkarni's expression stiffened as her brows knotted together. "We're not close. At best, we are colleagues in a field. But when I asked your mate who your primary doctor was, he pointed me to... Dr. Redfield." Calling the Doc by her professional name seemed to be a struggle as she massaged her temples.

"So, you're also a healing magic specialist?" He asked.

"Yes," She paused but then reluctantly continued. "We were in the same class together and interned at the same hospital. Though our last formal interaction was at a medical conference years ago."

"Ah, my condolences." Given how Doc was now, he feared what a younger, less trained version of her was like.

"Anyway, since we normally treat Werebeast we don't have many painkillers available that wouldn't put you into a coma. So, if anything becomes unbearable, we'll try to adjust them for the moment. I will talk with Richard later about getting human-grade stuff."

At first, Michael didn't notice any pain. In his current position everything felt fine, but the moment he went to adjust, his body reminded him that last night had, indeed, been a clusterfuck. He let out a pained laugh, "Yea, sorry about that."

"We also have you on a round of antibiotics. If you have any questions, I can answer them for you."

"What you mentioned earlier about the claw wounds, what's different about them?" Alexander finally spoke up.

Dr. Kulkarni eyed him but still answered. "When we cleaned and disinfected the injury we found some parts had already become necrotic. Not something strange on its own but the spread of dead tissue was far more advanced than average. Also, the blood was black in these regions. Because of this, we are concerned about potential infections."

"I see," Alexander nod. "How about his concussion? How long will he be under observation?"

"Forty-eight hours is my initial expectation, but if there are any changes or worsening symptoms, it could be longer."

"I have a question," Michael looked up at Alexander. Though he wore a shirt, he could see the swath of white bandages that wrapped around his neck. "How are Neil's injuries?"

"He'll live," she dryly laughed. "While the silver burn was deep, with a week or two of treatment, it'll heal. Though there might be a scar."

"Is that the normal heal rate?" Michael asked.

"No, for average silver injuries, it takes 5-7 days to heal completely. Unfortunately for him, that chain wasn't normal silver." She shook her head. "I don't know where they got it, but that necklace had a curse on it. We had to call in a curse breaker before we could give it proper treatment. Even with that done, they couldn't clean out all the fragments of the spell."

"The bitch said she was an enchanter," Alexander growled.

"Do you think I could try and clear it out? Doc said my blood can dispel magic." Michael offered. They immediately shut this idea down. Apparently, giving up more blood after almost bleeding out was a bad idea. Who knew? After the scolding, he switched topics. "Where's the necklace now?"

She gestured towards the door. "In my office. When I have time, I'll have the enchantment broken, and the silver disposed of."

"Can I have it?" he asked.

"To discipline your mate?"

"No," Michael paused, "for now. But I'd like to see it for myself."

She looked between them then finally sighed. "Fine, I'll get it for you."

"Thank you so much, Doctor." He smiled.

She grunted in acknowledgment and left. Now that they were alone, Michael dropped his pleasant expression as he turned to look at his partner.

"Alexander, what did you do?"

"Nothing, what do you think I did?" These words were said so smoothly that if Michael wasn't accustom to his partner's ways, he would have almost believed him.

"Don't play this with me. Why did you provoke Richard?"

"Richard was just being unreasonable. He asked me what happened and I told him the truth. Next thing I know, he's trying to attack me. I was so frightened," Alexander added a little trill to the word as if he were a wounded dove.

"Can't you at least pretend to get along?" A headache flared up as Michael used his good hand to rub his temples.

"I can," Alexander frowned, "but he was being annoying."

"And you're being childish. Provoking him into losing his cool and shifting doesn't mean you won."

"I did no such thing. He turned into that snarling beast all on his own when he didn't like my answer," he stole his husband's hand.

"And what was this innocent answer of yours?"

"How are you feeling? Dr. Kulkarni asked me several times how you didn't bleed to death on the drive over. I don't think she liked my answer about you being like a cockroach. I thought it was endearing, they live through everything after all," Alexander carefully played with his dark hand.

"Alexander," Michael's voice deepened as he captured his partner's fidgety fingers. "What was your answer?"

He sneered, "You should ask what his question was instead. He kept asking how I got out. I told him it didn't matter. He asked me again, several times. You know how I hate that. Each time, he became increasingly accusatory until it felt like he was trying to say that I was behind all this. I just gave him my honest opinion."

"Which was?"

"That ever since they put this case in his hands he had done nothing and every day more people are injured because of it. Also, I might have insinuated that his leadership ability only applies to beasts."

"You are one of those beasts."

"He's not leading me."

"Is now really the time to have a pissing contest?"

"It never was one," Alexander flatly laughed. "After that, he kept asking about what I did, who you were, how we met, on and on like he was planning to ask you out himself. It got tiresome fast. Then he broke the table and wouldn't even talk to me like a proper man."

"You're lucky that Trisha and Rusty were here."

"I could have held my own."

Michael glared at him. "This is a mess."

"Agreed Richard is unreasonable. Rusty would be a better Alpha. He's horribly causal, but at least he's sensible."

"How did I end up married to you?"

"You couldn't resist my charisma, charm, wit, intelligence... I can go on."

"Go, apologize to Richard."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want you to get your ass beat during the Hunt."

"They'd have to catch me first."

Michael blinked a few times and then let out a stilted laugh. Suddenly a small shadow snaked its way from under the bed and smacked Alexander across the ass. "Behave."

"You too," he scolded. "You're supposed to be resting."

"I am resting. I'm just burning off some excess energy."

Alexander raised an eyebrow to this. "Yet I'm the one whose irresponsible."

"I don't go picking fights with the people who can help us. All we have in this world are these contacts. The more bridges you burn the worse off we are."

"I'm a master builder. One silly bridge means nothing to me."

"It means much to me. Alliances are what keeps us alive and safe." 

Alexander was about to say something but Michael cut him off as he raised their clasped hands. "Don't start that piece about how the embrace of a lover is all one needs to live a long fulfilling life. There is no Rusty or Trisha to protect you from my ass kicking."

"I would never," he teased. "I was just about to say how amazing it is to have such a virtuous creature as my husband. How in the Six Planes did I manage to capture you?"

"Maybe it was because I foolishly thought I could make you into a virtuous m—" It was impossible to finish the sentence as Michael choked on his laughter. His chest rattled and ached, but he couldn't stop. Alexander chuckled alongside him. Tears welled up in Michael's eyes as he regained himself. "You are right, I shouldn't have smacked your ass."

"It's only temporary baby, just until you're out of the infirmary. Then I'd be happy to play with your shadows as much as you like," he leaned in, taking his partner's mouth in a brief but passionate kiss.

When they separated Michael was left a little upset, but he hid it and returned to his scolding. "This doesn't change the fact I want you to get along with the Pack..." He paused before grimacing. "Shit."

"What is it?"

"I have to call Shelly," if it were just one day, he was sure she wouldn't notice. But it would be at least a week before he returned home. She would definitely notice along with his mom. "How am I going to tell her?"

"I can call her," Alexander offered.

"No. You, Richard, deal with it. Apologize properly."

"So, you want me to kneel? Grovel at his feet?"

"You are overreacting. What I want is simple. Say sorry, say you got hot-headed. Then add in that it makes you uncomfortable to talk about your relationship because of your past or whatever. That's all. Tell him that what you said was wrong and once the Hunt wraps up, you'll be willing to open up about it."

"Are you really giving me advice?"

"Are you really going to keep this up?"

"Fine, I'll go deal with the dog. You deal with the human."

"Thank you," Michael smiled.

"Don't thank me just yet," Alexander rolled his eyes. "We haven't seen how the dog will react."

"Yes, yes. Remember that I love you and I love it when you take responsibility for your actions."

"Love you too," he purred and laid a kiss on Michael's forehead. With one last sigh, Alexander straightened and left the room to go be "responsible".   

A/N 

Sorry for missing a week. I was really busy at work and didn't have time to edit much last week. We're getting close to the end. If nothing deviates, it will be less than eight chapters, I might merge or cut a few scenes into shorter segments. We'll see. I'm going to try and power write and edit to get things wrapped soon as I want to move onto the next story now that I've got the plot figured out.