FIC: Moon Dreams I - Wolf Moon Rising (3/7)

["another_soul_lost" <anotherlostsoul@xxxxxxxxx>]

Title:  Moon Dreams I (3/7)
Disclaimer:  Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and a lot of other people own
the show and all the characters.  The plot and the story are mine. 
This cannot be sold or used for profit in any way, shape or form. 
Please don't sue me, because I really don't have anything to take.

* * * * *

The air was crisp and clean as Xander and I walked to school.  It was
a beautiful day, calm and clear, not that such days are really all
that unusual in Sunnydale.  For a town once called `Boca Del Infierno'
we have a lot of remarkably nice weather.  I mean, sure it gets a bit
hot during the summer, but this is southern California, what else
would you expect?

As we walked, I couldn't help but dwell on the extreme weirdness that
had been my morning so far.  Honestly, I'm not entirely sure which
bothered me more, waking up naked on my balcony or not remembering how
I ended up like that in the first place.

"Earth to Willow, anybody home in there?" Xander asked in an amused
voice.  I shot a quick glance at him, only to be confronted with his
trademark `I-caught-Willow-doing-something-I-think-is-funny' smirk.

"Sorry Xan," I mumbled half-heartedly, hoping that he would just let
my obvious preoccupation slide this time.

"So, what's with all the deep thoughts so early in the morning?" he
asked, his amusement thinly masking his deeper concern.  

I've known Xander Harris for most of my life and he and I have been
best friends since the first day of Kindergarten.  He plays at being a
clown, pretends to not notice a lot of things, and wants everybody to
think he's not nearly as smart as he actually is.  Of course, I know
better and I always have.  He's smarter than anyone gives him credit
for and he's way more observant than most people.  There's also
nothing he won't do for the people he cares about.  He's been my
Knight in Shining Armor for as long as I can remember.

Of course, there are some things he's also incredibly obtuse about. 
Like anything that doesn't match up with how thinks the world is
supposed to be.  Unfortunately for me, that results in him strictly
not noticing me in that `I'm a girl and have a major crush on him'
way.  It's just too bad it couldn't extend to not noticing just how
preoccupied I'm feeling today, especially since telling him what's on
my mind is not something I want to do.

"Uh, nope, no deep thoughts, I'm strictly deep-thought free today. 
Residing solely in the shallow end of the thought process& But really,
how can you tell how deep a thought is anyway?  Are there depth marks
like on the side of swimming pools or something?  And why would I be
having deep thoughts today anyway, I mean it's not like I woke up
someplace weird or anything&"  

`OH SHIT!' I thought, stopping cold as the realization of what I just
said hit me full force. I can't believe I just said that& aloud.  To
Xander.  Moments like these are exactly why I should never, ever try
to keep secrets& I get started talking and before I know it whatever
I'm thinking about has been announced to whoever's around.

Xander's staring at me, in that kinda intent, utterly shocked way he
does.  It's really not a good stare in my book.  Not at all.  Part of
me knows that he's trying to process what I said, and that means he's
about to realize that not only did I wake up somewhere out of the
ordinary, but that I also had meant to keep that fact from him.  He's
not gonna be happy.  `On the upside,' I thought, `at least I didn't
mention that I was naked at the time.'

"You were NAKED?!" he gasped in a strangled sort of voice that carried
a lot further than it should have.  I blushed furiously, realizing
that I had actually said that, not just thought it.  If there had been
anyone else around to hear, they'd probably be staring at us right now.

I hadn't even made it to school yet and already it was shaping up to
be one hell of a bad day.

Xander's voice dropped to a furious whisper, and I swear I could
almost smell his anger on the air between us.  "You woke up naked in a
strange place and you weren't going to tell anyone?" he practically
spat the words at me, "What, you didn't think this might be something
important?  Or maybe even something bad going on?"  

A part of me wanted to feel bad about having tried to keep what
happened from him, but at the moment it was a very small part that was
shrinking rapidly.  In its place, my own anger swelled, a white-hot
rage that pushed aside such miniscule considerations as whether or not
Xander meant well, or how cute it could sometimes be when he'd get
overprotective.  

I've struggled with my temper for as long as I can remember.  I've
always had problems with it and my mother, being the psychologist she
is, has taught me all sorts of techniques for keeping it under
control.  I haven't really lost my temper in a long, long time.  I
usually manage to keep calm, to reign in my emotions and behave
rationally.  I wish I could say that I made an honest effort to keep
from losing it with Xan right there, but I didn't.  I didn't try at all.

"ALEXANDER LAVELLE HARRIS!" I ground out, my voice a near growl that
practically dripped with angry venom of my own, "Don't you dare get
pissy with me over this.  THIS is exactly why I didn't want to tell
you.  I KNEW how you'd react, how you ALWAYS react, and I didn't want
to deal with it until I have answers about what's going on."

I watched his eyes narrow and he sucked in a breath to protest, but I
cut him off.  The fact that he had the gall to even think of trying to
defend his behavior was like a slap in my face, and I felt a strange
rumbling sensation in my chest as I stepped in closer to him and spoke
again, a deathly calm creeping into my voice.  "I know better than you
EXACTLY how dangerous what happened to me could have been, and I'm not
going to listen to your condescending, overbearing attitude when you
don't know a DAMN thing about it."

Xander's face went pale and the anger drained away instantly to be
replaced by something else.  It was a look on his face and in his eyes
that I'd seen before, one that I never, in all of my life, expected to
see directed at me of all people.  He was scared.  He was scared of
me.  The realization should have hurt.  It should have been one of the
most painful moments of my life.  I had never, ever wanted anyone to
be scared of me.  Especially not my oldest friend.  

Seeing that look directed at me should have ripped my heart out,
thrown it on the ground and stomped it to death.  But it didn't. 
Instead, I felt a surge of something inside me, I felt strong,
powerful in a way I'd never felt before.  I felt that deep rumbling
sensation in my chest again and realized that I was growling.  Not a
normal, human growl of anger, this was something else, something deep
in, animalistic and menacing.  And, God help me, it felt pretty damn good.

It felt like all of my senses exploded to life in ways that I'd never
experienced before.  My vision sharpened, colors fading to a grayscale
of light and shadow that was more detailed than I could have ever
imagined possible.  I could hear the loud, bass drum beat of Xander's
heart pounding in his chest, could hear the pulsing liquid rush of his
blood being pushed frantically through his veins.  I could almost feel
the frenetic rhythm of it in the air around me.

My nostrils flared and I was flooded with a rush of different scents,
the musky odor of Xander's sweat tainted with a tangy metallic edge
and a spicy bitter scent that seemed to be fading and underneath that
a deeper smell, a rich warm, human scent that made my mouth water. 
Something stirred in me, like a part of my brain waking up and making
the instinctual connections I was missing, filling in the blanks.  It
was Food.  Xander smelled like Food, flavored with fear and a fading
hint of anger.  It smelled good.

I held myself still, fighting the urge to move closer.  I opened my
mouth and sucked a shuddering, gasping breath of air down my throat. 
I could taste the smells on my tongue and my mouth ached for it.  I
felt my body start to tremble, shaking with the effort it was taking
not to reach out, to not grab him, pull him close and sink my teeth
into his flesh.  

Suddenly, the skin at the backs of my knees and elbows began to itch
with a painful burning feeling.  I gasped and the feeling sank deeper,
spreading to the muscle beneath and rippling through my entire body,
consuming me.  I stifled a scream and doubled over, falling hard on
the rough concrete of the sidewalk.  I clutched my stomach, curling
into a ball as my muscles began to convulse, twitching and knotting
beneath the skin.  

"Xander," I gasped out as the pain ebbed momentarily, "Run&get
Buffy...Giles."  Then I screamed as the pain grabbed me once again.  I
heard the pounding of feet running along the sidewalk and could feel
the vibrations of his footsteps receding as he ran for the only help I
could think of.

I fought hard against what was happening, struggled to force my body
back under my control.  The pain was incredible; an agony like nothing
that I could have ever imagined was humanly possible to endure.  I
felt my bones stretching, changing, reshaping themselves, the muscles
underneath my skin twisted and moved accommodating the changing
skeleton and even my organs moved, shifting and changing.  I screamed
again as I felt the bones in my face elongate, stretching the skin and
muscle agonizingly outward.  My skin burst outward painfully across my
entire body as thick auburn fur erupted through it.

Finally the pain overwhelmed me, ripping one last shriek from throat
before the blackness took me.  The sound that escaped my throat,
however, was the pained yipping sound of an injured animal.

* * * * *

I woke up slowly, gradually becoming more aware of my surroundings. 
The first thing that I became aware of was that I was curled up on
something soft and comfortable, something that smelled like home.  I
stirred gently, shifting my position and stretching and uncurling my
long body.  Next I realized that I wasn't alone, I could hear the
heartbeat and breathing of someone close by, someone who smelled
familiar, like family.  I wasn't sure exactly where I was or how I'd
gotten there, but at this moment, that didn't seem terribly important
to my waking mind.  

I yawned deeply and stretched again as I opened my eyes.  I was in my
own bedroom, lying naked on my bed.  It was dark, but not the pitch
black of deep night.  It was the thinner, purple of late twilight,
where the sun's dying rays were barely lingering at the tops of the
windows.  Even in the fading light, I could make out my surroundings
easily and wasn't surprised to see my mother sitting at my desk,
staring at me through the darkness with a sad sort of smile on her face.  

I sat up slowly and turned to look at her, puzzled by her presence
here.  Everything felt fuzzy, distant.  I couldn't really bring myself
to even try to concentrate.  `Why was I here?  How did I get back
here?' I wondered, unable to piece together the events that led up to
this moment at all.

I licked my dry lips and swallowed hard, trying to force my parched
throat to work.  I called out softly, my voice hoarse and croaking,
"Mama?"

She moved smoothly, sliding out of the desk chair and crossing to the
bed table where she scooped up a glass before settling gently next to
me on the bed.  I could smell the water in the glass clearly a sharp,
clean scent that my body instantly craved, but mixed with it I could
smell something else.  It was a softer, sweeter aroma, like flowers or
fresh herbs.  

"Willow," my mother asked quietly, not quite whispering, "What do you
remember?"

The question puzzled me for a moment.  `What happened?' I asked myself
silently.  I took a deep breath and tried to focus.  It was so hard. 
Everything was so fuzzy in my mind.  "Mom, I& it's so hard to focus& I
can't remember&"

She nodded softly and handed me the glass she held.  The glass was
cool and smooth in my hand and I quickly brought it up to my mouth,
gulping down a few swallows of the liquid it held.  As the cool fluid
slid over my tongue and down my dry, parched throat, a soft tingle ran
through me, pushing the fog back, clearing my head almost instantly.

And as it did, my memories surged back around me.  The confrontation
with Xander, the sudden sharpness of my senses, the utter agony that
followed and finally the blessed darkness I had slipped into
afterward.  Then, other things slipped into my awareness.  Flashes of
running through the sun-warmed spring grass, the feeling of the wind
in my fur as I ran, the way the soft ground felt pounding under my
paws.  My mind froze, teetering on the edge of acknowledging
something, something that was wonderful and terrible and beautiful and
frightening all at once.  

I realized after a moment that I was holding my breath, shaking my
head in denial of the images in my mind.  It wasn't possible, it
couldn't be.

"Willow, sweetie," my mother whispered softly again, her voice echoing
in the utter stillness of the room.  "You're a werewolf."







"It's a good fight, Buffy, and I want in."
"I kinda love you."
Buffy & Willow, 'Choices'

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