FIC: Moon Dreams I - Wolf Moon Rising (5/7)

["another_soul_lost" <anotherlostsoul@xxxxxxxxx>]

Title:  Moon Dreams (5/7)
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.


* * * * *

I knelt naked in the thick, dew covered grass of the clearing, bathed
in the pale light of the full moon above me.  My skin seemed to glow
in the silvery radiance and a sense of peace pervaded the air.  A
heavy mist hung low in the air around me, unmoved by the slight eddies
of night breeze.  The fog was so thick that it seemed to carry an
almost palpable weight.

I took a deep breath, savoring the clean forest scents on the air. 
The tangs of pine, of oak and cypress, of sycamore and willow, the
rich earthy smells of decay and fertile earth, the spoor of woodland
creatures; all these things gathered together into the inviting
fragrance of a living forest.  The scent called to me, reaching out
for me in a way I couldn't understand, couldn't explain.  I wanted to
shed my humanity and run wildly through the dark woods, to call out to
the moon and the spirits of the wild.  I wanted to be free, truly
free, in a way that my human mind could scarcely comprehend.

I remained motionless, resisting the siren's call of the forest,
ignoring the temptation to unleash my beast.  Something was coming. 
Something important and I knew it.  I couldn't explain how I knew and
I didn't know what it was, but it was coming for me.  This was a test,
a trial of some kind.  A battle of wills between me and my beast that
would determine who was in charge.  It couldn't be taken lightly.  

The wolf in me stirred restlessly, like a predator pacing within its
cage.  Its anxious energy flowed through me, tensing my muscles,
making every square inch of my skin tingle with the desire, the need,
to Change.  I could feel my beast's disquiet, its unhappiness at my
resistance.  Time crawled by meaninglessly and still I waited.  The
faint tingling grew to an itch and still I resisted it.  Slowly the
itch became a burn, and slower still the burn deepened into a fiery
pain.  Stubbornly I waited, gritting my teeth and refusing to move. 
My wolf clawed at me from within, demanding release.  

The pain seared deeper, spreading into my muscles and bones, each
breath becoming a labored gasp, yet still I held onto my human form. 
I was stronger than this.  I would not submit.  Not now.  Not ever.  I
pushed back against my beast forcing it down, asserting my dominance.
For a tense moment, the wolf inside me snarled and growled, trying
one last time to back me down.  I snarled back at it, refusing to
budge, refusing to give even a little bit.  

Suddenly the pain was gone, and the wolf within me quieted, accepting
my dominance over it.  The essence of my beast flowed through my
conscious mind and I could sense that it was pleased with me.  I could
feel its approval of my willpower.  I was strong, and it would make me
stronger still.

With a sudden surge, my wolf flowed up out of me with the force of an
erupting volcano.  White-hot power rushed through me and the world
seemed to explode around me.  My body was burned away and remade.  I
was left standing on my paws in the cool mists, my body surging with
the power I had made my own.  I threw back my muzzle and howled to the
distant moon.  I was reborn.

* * * * *

When I opened my eyes, I wasn't surprised at all to find that I was
lying comfortably in my own bed.  The early morning sun was bright and
clear, revealing the start of a beautiful day.  I moved slowly,
stretching and shifting, letting my muscles and the rest of my body
wake up properly before I attempted to get out of bed.  I sniffed the
air and caught the scent of pancakes, sausage, eggs, ham, and baking
bread.

Someone was cooking, and since most of what was cooking wasn't kosher,
I guessed that my father must not be home.  I sniffed again and caught
the distinct scent of people in the house.  Curious, I closed my eyes
and focused on the smell, trying to separate the scents and figure out
who was here.  The distinct scent of my mother was the easiest to
identify.  Next I was able to pick out another familiar scent and my
wolf supplied its identity immediately:  Xander.  

My eyes snapped open in shock.  That was what I couldn't remember
before I went to bed last night.  I'd sent Xander to get Buffy and
Giles when my first Change started and I had no idea what they'd found
when they got back.  They must've been frantic with worry by now&

A voice that I literally hadn't heard in years spoke from my doorway,
"It's a lot easier to sort the smells out as a wolf, kiddo.  Doing it
as a human, on the day after your first Change is likely to give you a
migraine."

I shot a quick glance at the door to my room to confirm the speaker's
identity and I felt a wide smile spread immediately across my face. 
"Uncle Jack!!" I squealed and leapt off my bed to throw my arms around
him in a rough hug, squeezing hard.

Jack O'Connell, my mother's youngest brother, was probably my favorite
male family member.  He was several inches taller than me, broad
shouldered and muscular, with red-blonde hair and an easy grin.  He
had a strong, square jaw, full cheeks and a seemingly permanent
twinkle of mischief in his pale blue eyes. 

He threw his arms around me and hugged me back, not even flinching at
the force of my hug.  When we parted several moments later, Uncle Jack
chuckled.  "You need to be careful," he said grinning widely as he
spoke, "you hug a human that enthusiastically and you're likely to
break them.  You're a lot stronger than you realize."

"It's so good to see you again Uncle Jack," I said with a sheepish
smile and a second, far more conservative, hug.

"It's good to see you again too kiddo," he replied happily.  "Now,
throw some clothes on and come eat, there are humans in the house and
they tend to get bothered by nudity at the breakfast table."

It wasn't until he'd let me go and mentioned clothes that I realized
that I was completely naked and unashamed, standing in front of my
uncle.  Interestingly though, the idea of being naked around other
people just didn't seem terribly bothersome to either of us.  I
shrugged, and turned to get dressed

"Who all is here?" I asked quickly as he leaned against the doorframe
to wait on me.

"Your friend Xander and a little blonde girl named Buffy or
something," he shook his head at that, as though questioning why on
earth someone would inflict that name on their child.  "She doesn't
smell exactly human though and it makes my beast nervous."

I nodded, "I'm not surprised.  She's a Vampire Slayer."

He seemed shocked.  "That's the Slayer?"  I nodded in answer and
decided to forego underwear in favor of pulling on a pair of sweat
pants.  "Huh, I thought she'd be bigger.  You know, more intimidating."  

I laughed and fished out a t-shirt to wear.  "She's tougher than she
looks," I said easily as I pulled the shirt over my head.  "But then,
I guess she'd kind of have to be."

That made Uncle Jack chuckle and he held out his arm to me as I
grabbed a hair-tie and pulled the tangled mop my hair had become into
a rough ponytail, just to get it out of my face.  I took his arm and
we headed to the stairs.

I hesitated at the top of the stairs, suddenly terrified at the
prospect of facing my friends.  I could smell my own fear on the air
and felt Uncle Jack turn to look at me.

"What is it Willow?" he asked softly, his voice so low that no human
would have been able to hear it.

"What do I tell them?  How do I face this?"  I asked, keeping my voice
just as low.  "I sent Xander for help when my first Change started
`cause I didn't know what was happening and I don't know what happened
after that& How do I deal?"  

"Well, all your mother told them was that you made it back here safely
last night."  He frowned slightly, his eyes narrowing at me.  "Do ya
trust `em kiddo?" he asked softly.

I didn't even have to think about it.  With everything that had
happened since Buffy came to town, how could I not trust them? 
"Completely," I said, suddenly feeling much better about this.

"Then tell them the truth," Uncle Jack responded with a grin and a
wink.  "If they freak out too much, we kill `em and I'll help ya
eat&er hide the bodies."  I laughed aloud and we started down the
stairs, even as I felt my wolf stir, wondering what was funny.

I took a deep breath and was assaulted by the scents of food, family
and& pack?  I stopped dead, looking around puzzled.  When did I
acquire a pack?  And why could I smell them.  I sniffed again,
scenting the air to make sure that I wasn't smelling something that
wasn't really there.  

It was there, plain as a day.  I leaned toward Uncle Jack, and I could
smell his essence on the air:  man, wolf, family, but not pack.  Not
my pack anyway.  I sniffed the air again confused by what I could
smell.  I felt my beast stir, rolling outward from me looking for the
source of the scent, looking for my pack.

My uncle's voice was soft and calm as he spoke, "What is it Willow,
what do you smell?"

I said just one word in response, "Pack."

"Your friends," he answered calmly.  "Your wolf recognizes their scent
even when you don't necessarily."

"But they aren't& like me," I said softly.  "How can they be part of
my pack?"  I was confused and uncertain and I didn't like it.  My
human concepts of the distinctions between family and friends
conflicted with the idea of a pack, and my brain was having difficulty
reconciling the ideas.

"The wolf doesn't distinguish that way," he replied simply.  "If you
aren't family or pack to the wolf then you're either competition or
prey."  He chuckled softly, "Even the distinctions between family and
pack are mostly because of our human sides.  To a real wolf, pack is
family and that's all there is."

As he spoke, my wolf rose within me, brushing against my human mind,
reassuring me.  My friends were pack.  The wolf accepted them without
question.  That was all that mattered.  I relaxed, realizing that my
brain was trying to make things more complicated than they needed to
be.  I closed my eyes and took another deep breath; as I did, faces
flashed in my mind and my confusion vanished: Buffy, Giles, Xander,
Amy.  They were pack, my pack.  That's all that mattered.

I opened my eyes again, and stepped into the dining room, ready to
face them at last.

* * * * *

Breakfast passed quietly, but only because my mother outright forbade
anyone from talking about what had happened yesterday before we
finished eating.  Without my mysterious disappearance to discuss,
there didn't seem to be much else to talk about yet, so instead we
just ate.  Since I planned to tell them everything anyway, I didn't
see any particular reason to try and restrain myself, so instead I dug
in and ate with relish.  Another first came in the form of Buffy
deciding that if I was okay to eat that much, she didn't need to hold
back either.  Apparently, a Slayer's appetite is almost as large as a
werewolf's.  Who knew?

By the time two werewolves, a Slayer and a teenaged boy were finished
eating, almost nothing of the huge breakfast my mother had made
remained and both Xander and Buffy were eyeing me curiously.  We sat
quietly for several more minutes with no one seeming to want to be the
first to speak.  Finally, Uncle Jack broke the stand-off by standing up.

"I'll clean up," my Mom offered, "Why don't you take the kids in the
living room and let Willow talk to them, Jack?"

"Or& Uncle Jack could explain what happened to them, and I could help
you clean up the kitchen," I offered nervously, looking for any way of
escaping this situation without having to admit to my friends that I
wasn't actually human.  I looked at my Uncle, pleading silently for
him to rescue me from this.

"I don't think so, kiddo," Uncle Jack said bluntly.  "This isn't my
tale to tell, it's yours.  I'm just gonna be there for... moral support."

With a sigh, I followed Jack into the living room with Buffy and
Xander close behind me.  As soon as we entered the room, Uncle Jack
spoke again.

"Before anyone says anything, let me lay down some ground rules," he
began.  "It's extremely important that we remain very calm during this
discussion.  Getting upset or angry with one another is a really bad
idea with everything that has happened, so if your emotions start to
get out of hand, walk away and calm down before you come back."  He
looked at each of the three of us in turn, his face serious.  "If I
tell you to walk away, do it, get up, take a walk, do whatever it
takes to get your emotions in check and then come back.  I know it
sounds weird but trust me, it's for your own good.  We all clear?"

I nodded, understanding exactly why things had to be this way.  My
control just wasn't good enough yet to deal with lots of emotions
running high.  I could slip and Change and if that happened, I could
very easily hurt one of them.  Buffy and Xander looked like they
wanted to protest or question why, but my Uncle's tone brooked no
refusals so they simply nodded.

It was Xander who spoke first, looking my Uncle in the eye, with a
dark look of distrust on his face.  "So you're here to what?  Make
sure we don't hurt Willow?"  The hurt in his voice cut me deeply.  I
could tell by the petulant expression and the look in his eyes that he
thought I didn't trust him and Buffy.  If only he knew just how wrong
that thought was.

"Nope," Jack replied in a neutral tone, "I'm here to make sure that
none of you gets hurt."

"Why would we get hurt?" Buffy asked, her eyes narrowing at my Uncle
suspiciously.

Jack shook his head at Buffy, "No.  You want answers, you ask Willow.
It's her story, remember?"

With a frown, Buffy turned her eyes on me and repeated the question,
"Why would we get hurt, Willow?"

My first impulse was to just blurt out `because I'm a werewolf' but I
restrained myself.  Somehow, that just didn't seem like the smartest
way to announce that little fact.  Instead I contented myself to
reassure them the best that I could.  "You won't, as long as we all
remain calm."

It was Xander who saved us from going any further down that line of
questioning.  "So, Will, what happened to you yesterday?  You sent me
for help, but when I got back you were gone& except for the pile of
shredded rags that looked a lot like the outfit you were wearing."

"I Changed," I answered succinctly.  "After that&well, I'm not really
sure what happened until I woke up back here about sunset."  

"What do you mean you `Changed'?" Buffy asked cautiously.  

Okay, so maybe just coming right out and saying it was really the best
way to handle things.  "Buffy, Xander," I said softly before pausing
to take a deep breath, "I'm a werewolf."

Even as I decided to just come right out and tell them this way, a
picture had begun to form in my head.  I saw the events of this
conversation playing out before me, or rather, I saw how I expected
said events to occur.  

In my mental preview of the events, I envisioned my friends sitting
there for a few moments in stunned silence as they processed the
announcement.  Then they would move into amused denial as they, or
Xander in particular, decided that this was my idea of a joke.  From
there, as they realized that I wasn't kidding and this wasn't a joke,
I expected it to turn ugly. 

By the end of the conversation, I fully expected Buffy and Xander to
storm out of the house and head straight to Giles for his advice on
how to properly destroy a werewolf.  Or at the very least, to get his
advice on whether or not I needed to be destroyed.  Okay, so maybe I
was feeling a little pessimistic, but it seemed as likely an outcome
as any other scenario I could conjure up in my mind. 

Given my expectations, I didn't find the shocked looks on my
unspeaking friends' faces particularly reassuring.  A quick sniff of
the air did nothing to dispel my unease, as I couldn't pick up any
strong emotions from either of them.  Needing reassurance, I looked to
my Uncle, only to find that his face was carefully neutral.  

'I guess I'm just gonna have to wait for somebody to talk,' I thought
morosely.

It was Buffy who finally spoke.  "You're a werewolf?" she asked
calmly, "How'd that happen?"

Well, that really wasn't part of the reaction I had expected.  I
sniffed the air and was surprised by the lack of fear or anger,
instead finding only confusion and doubt.  "Uh, apparently it runs in
my family," I answered quickly.  "Mom never warned me about it because
it's really rare in females.  I didn't find out until after I Changed
for the first time yesterday."

"Huh?" Xander interrupted ever so eloquently, "I thought you had to
get bitten by a werewolf to become one&"

"Apparently, not so much," I responded with a nervous smile.

Buffy nodded thoughtfully before continuing, "So what does that mean
exactly?  You're gonna get furry once a month and try to eat people?"
She kept her voice very neutral as she spoke.

"Uh, no, apparently that's a myth too.  The full moon doesn't have any
more influence on a natural werewolf than it does on people.  And once
I get used to it, I'll have a lot of control over when I Change and
that whole `werewolves are bloodthirsty, man-eating monsters' thing? 
It's just folklore and Hollywood.  I'll still have control over my
actions after I Change once I get used to it." 

Buffy nodded, falling silent again and appearing to consider what she
had been told.  Xander, on the other hand, spoke up almost
immediately, "So if the moon doesn't make you Change, why do it at all?"

To everyone else's great surprise, Uncle Jack spoke up to answer this
question.  "Because it's necessary, that's why," he stated flatly. 
"She can no more ignore this part of herself and go without Changing
than she can stop breathing.  The longer a werewolf goes between
Changes, the harder it is for them to control themselves."

Xander and Buffy looked at Jack as though he'd just grown a second
head.  "You're a werewolf too?" Buffy asked him, an unfriendly edge to
her voice.

"Yes," he responded bluntly, "I'm here to help Willow adjust to being
a werewolf."  He smiled and winked at me, "It was an honor I had to
smack both of my brothers around to earn I might add.  But I figured
it was my privilege as her favorite uncle."

Buffy nodded as Xander spoke up again, "So how often does a werewolf
have to Change then?"

"Most need to run as a wolf for a few hours a week at least.  Some
more, some less, it kind of depends on how strong the werewolf is and
how stressful their human life is."  The smile faded from his face as
he answered.

Neither Buffy nor Xander had looked at me since Jack started talking.
A part of me was pretty glad that I was no longer the center of their
attention.  I was also thankful that he was here to answer their
questions, since they were asking things I didn't have answers for yet.

I found myself tuning out their questions and Jack's responses as I
focused my attention on my friends.  The human part of my brain seemed
to drift back, allowing the wolf to come forward slightly.  I studied
their positions, their body language.  They were stiff and tense,
displaying their uncertainty and distrust of the situation as clearly
to my wolf instincts as if they had raised a flag.  

I discretely sniffed the air, an act that passed unnoticed to everyone
but my uncle.  Their scents confirmed what their body language was
saying.  They were uncertain, confused, distrustful, and even a little
fearful.  My human brain understood these responses.  They were
normal, rational reactions in the face of something new.  

My wolf, however, was troubled deeply by these scents.  Buffy and
Xander were my pack-mates, why should they feel fear and distrust? 
Didn't they realize that I was strong enough to protect them? 
Couldn't they understand that I would never hurt them or allow them to
be hurt?  A low, canine whine escaped my throat, the sound of a wolf
asking its pack for acceptance.  

Suddenly my human form felt wrong and confining, like clothes that
just didn't fit properly.  I wanted desperately to Change, but my
human brain knew that seeing that would be too much for my friends
right now.  I found myself crawling across my living room towards my
friends on my hands and knees.  They had noticed me and had a strange,
shocked look on their faces.  

I could hear my uncle talking, could recognize the soothing, calming
tone of voice he was using and threw a look over my shoulder at him,
but I couldn't make sense out of the words he was saying.  I was still
wearing my human shape, but my wolf instincts had taken over, pushing
the parts of my psyche that could understand human speech to the back
of my mind.  I needed my pack's acceptance, their touch, the physical
connection that binds the pack together.  

As I reached the couch where they sat, I saw Buffy and Xander each
reach out a hand toward me.  They moved slowly, with a deliberate
caution, turning their palms outward with their fingers pointing down.
It was the same non-threatening gesture that man has used to greet
strange dogs for thousands of years.  I sniffed their hands
cautiously, my inner-wolf processing the scent almost instantly.  I
could still smell the fear on Xander, but Buffy&Buffy's scent had
changed completely.  Gone were the taints of distrust and confusion,
leaving just the calm, accepting smell of Buffy.  

I rubbed my cheek against her hand and looked up at her.  I could see
that her body language had changed completely.  Her tension had faded
and the uncertainty that had been written on her face so clearly
earlier had been replaced by a warm, accepting smile.  The feel of her
soft, supple skin against my cheek reassured my inner-wolf, I felt the
beast stretch out, flowing through our tactile connection and brushing
up against Buffy.

I watched through half-lidded eyes as she felt the brush of my wolf
against her.  I saw her expression change, going from calm acceptance
to awed surprise.  I knew she could feel my wolf the same way that I
could, could feel the power, the strength, the primal essence of it as
it flowed out over her skin.  Her eyes snapped downward, meeting mine,
and in that moment I saw something I had feared I would never see from
her:  complete understanding.

I smiled and turned my attention back to Xander.  His expression, too,
had changed.  Somehow he'd felt something when I let my beast reach
out to Buffy and it had frightened him.  The scent of his fear was
potent, almost intoxicating.  His facial expression and his body
language were withdrawn and closed off to me.  I felt my wolf recede,
felt it pull back within my body and settle back within me.

As my human mind regained control over my body, I pulled back gently
from Buffy's hand, which was now cupping my cheek, and looked at
Xander.  "Xander?" I whispered softly, silently praying that there was
still some way for things to be okay between me and my oldest friend.

Xander stood up slowly and cautiously moved away toward the door. 
"I&I'm sorry, Will, but I&I just can't&this is too much&I need&time,"
he stammered, giving me a wide berth as he retreated from the living
room.  A moment later I heard the front door open and then close as he
left.

I wanted to cry, but deep down inside my wolf reassured me.  Xander
was part of my pack.  It would all be okay.  He just needed time.

I leaned back into Buffy's hand and prayed that the wolf was right.







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

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