Chapter 19 #2
Shit, everything hurt. Everything. Fucking. Hurt. It felt like someone had smashed a cricket bat across his face, his muzzle and skull tender every time he moved.
Johnny’s breathing was deep, slow, his ears flicking every now again as the healing sleep took hold.
Taylor huffed and licked his mouth, washing away the blood that had crusted around his nose.
He ran his tongue under Johnny’s lips, trying to feel if there were any teeth missing. There were. Two at the back.
He nuzzled Johnny’s chest, licking him from head to toe, scent marking every inch of him until he was satisfied that Johnny smelled of him and only him.
Johnny’s eyes peeled open as Taylor licked between his paws.
He had a nasty cut to one of his pads, the middle claw cracked and torn almost clean off at the quick.
He’d feel that. Even in human form he’d probably have a black fingernail, and that was before Taylor even got to the bloody mess of his front leg.
When he sniffed it Johnny flinched, but he lay still and let Taylor rest his head over his ribs. As Johnny slept, a rush of emotions bounced across the bond—mostly Taylor’s, but as Johnny dropped deeper into unconsciousness he could feel them pushing through too.
Relief, confusion, and a fear that sank so heavily into Taylor’s chest it was as though his bones had frozen inside his body. Taylor scrunched his eyes shut, letting it wash over him. He could bear it, all of it, for Johnny.
It wasn’t until several hours later that he felt a hand brush through his fur, an arm around his shaggy scruff. “Hey,” Johnny whispered, voice weak as he pressed his face into Taylor’s chest.
In human form Taylor could finally see the mess of blood and bruises. The swelling under both of his eyes, his arm… his goddamned arm had a dent in it. Taylor whined, curling tighter around Johnny’s naked body. He felt so small like that, so vulnerable.
There was a soft knock on the door, making Taylor’s lips curl back. When he looked up there was a nurse standing just beyond the threshold.
“I… um… I’m terribly sorry but the doctor wants to set and dress Mr Ateba’s arm. She’s worried that the longer you leave it, the less likely it is to heal correctly.”
Johnny’s warm breath puffed against Taylor’s chest. “It’s okay,” he said, stroking Taylor’s ears. “I’m safe now.” He ran his fingers over Taylor’s muzzle. “You made me safe. It’s time to turn back.”
He didn’t know how long they stayed in that room, or at what point Johnny touched the pressure point behind his ear that made him shift back. At some point they were handed hospital gowns, which Taylor helped Johnny into before being wheeled through the hospital and into the X-ray room.
The radiologist let him stay, but when they returned to the loud, chaotic ward in A&E, Taylor couldn’t help but pace around the perimeter of the cubicle and stare at Johnny incessantly.
“Seriously, dude. It’s getting a bit much,” Johnny said, his voice raspy. He had his arm strapped into a bright blue sling, his bloodied fingers poking out from beneath a massive bandage. “I’m okay now, my teeth are just a little rattled.”
“Bullshit,” Taylor growled, scraping a chair across the linoleum floor as he pulled it next to the bed. His hospital gown split up the sides as he dropped into the chair with too much force. Gritting his teeth, he tried not to make it obvious he was holding his bruised ribs.
“I saw you, JP. Surrounded, beaten to shit. So, don’t tell me it’s a bit much.”
Johnny swallowed, which looked painful. “Sorry,” he said, raising a hand off the bed. He had a cannula sticking out the back that pulled every time he moved. “I know. Sorry I scared you like that.”
Taylor baulked. “Scared? Scared? JP, I ran five miles in six minutes. What the fuck happened? Why were you out there on your own? Who were those people?”
Johnny rubbed his face. “Jesus, okay, okay.” He wrapped a hand around Taylor’s, the cannula tubes rattling as he squeezed.
“I got complacent, alright? Policing Dingly Heath has made me complacent as shit. I went with Wendy to check out Applewood Heights after William said his dad was hanging around with some shady people. I saw someone that looked like Sylvester Pearce—which, by the way, may or may not have been his actual evil twin—he ran, I followed, and they jumped me. And if you’re really that desperate to give me a lecture, could you at least hold my hand and feed me grapes as you do it. ”
Taylor shook his head. “You’re a cock.”
Johnny sighed, closing his eyes. “And you’re a massive throbbing bell end.”
“Twat.”
“Cunt.” Johnny smirked, cocking an eyebrow.
“That’s just unnecessary.”
Grinning, Johnny patted Taylor’s hand. “Sorry. Been a rough day.”
Taylor’s plastic chair creaked as he leaned back. “You’re telling me. Usually you’re the one saving my arse.”
Johnny hummed, stroking Taylor’s knuckles. “It was pretty hot, can’t lie. Seeing you charge in all crazy.”
Taylor scoffed, slouching even deeper into the chair. “Do not make a pass at me from your hospital bed, JP.” He ran his tongue over his teeth, trying to ignore the warmth curling around his ears.
Johnny shrugged, a mischievous smile crossing his face. “I would blame it on the pain meds but that shit ran out ages ago.”
Tutting, Taylor bent forwards to brush his lips over Johnny’s bruised fingers. They were pissing him off, in all honesty, smelling of blood and surgical wipes. Taunting him, reminding him that he should have got there sooner.
He dragged his nose along the rough material of the arm brace and the scratchy cotton of Johnny’s hospital gown. Taylor’s chest rumbled as he pushed his face into Johnny’s throat, eyes fluttering shut as he inhaled.
He felt Johnny shiver, his scent spiking with arousal. Taylor groaned against his skin. “No getting turned on, either. This is for me, not you.”
Snorting, Johnny tipped his head back to allow Taylor better access. “Stop turning me on, then.”
Taylor sighed and pulled back. “I think I preferred it when you were still hiding your feelings.”
Johnny shrugged again. “Sure. No worries. I’ll just go back to sniffing your dirty underwear.”
“You better be fucking joking.”
Johnny hummed, wiggling his injured fingers. “Someone’s gotta tell you to start upping your fibre intake.”
“You filthy bastard.”
A sleepy smile split Johnny’s cheeks. “Made you laugh though, didn’t it?”
“I’m meant to be cheering you up.”
Johnny squeezed his hand. “You are.”
Taylor stared up at the bright blue curtain, counting all the rings that hooked it to the rail.
It surprised him how easily they were talking about feelings.
Johnny’s feelings. His deeper-than-best-friendship feelings.
Taylor had done his best to not think about it, trying to convince himself that Johnny didn’t mean it, or that it was still a side effect of all the biting.
However, after everything that had happened, he found he didn’t have the energy to worry anymore.
Not when Johnny was right there, alive, smelling like home.
Because for the first time in Taylor’s life, he’d actually thought he might lose him.
That he might be made to live with a John-Paul-shaped hole in his heart.
That was no life, no life at all.
“Was Manders one of the people that attacked you?” Taylor eventually asked.
Johnny shook his head.
“Shame. Would have loved to lock him up again.”
“I know. Have you heard from Kat?”
Taylor rubbed the back of his neck. “She wouldn’t tell me anything anyway. She knows our history.”
They sat for a while, Taylor pilfering a copy of Cosmo from the nurses’ station so Johnny could do the crossword whilst Taylor aimlessly scrolled through his phone. He raised his eyebrows when he came across an article that read ‘OMEGA RIGHTS CAMPAIGN REACHES PARLIAMENT.’
He nudged Johnny’s elbow. “Looks like something’s happening with that petition.”
He showed Johnny the screen. There was a huge group of people standing outside Downing Street, someone at the front was gripping a clipboard, and another holding a white envelope in the air.
“Good for them,” Johnny said, tapping his pen against the magazine.
Taylor scrolled through the article, flinching when further down the page were headshots of Maya, Sal, Leo and Reuben. Sam’s killers. They were all wearing the grey uniform of West Newton custody block, meaning the photographs must have been from the night they were arrested.
Sally, Leo and Reuben all looked scared as hell, but Maya was just… smiling.
“I hate her,” Taylor said, clenching his teeth. “I fucking hate her, JP.”
Johnny put the magazine down and stared at the pictures with him. “I know.”
“How the fuck can they be so cold blooded? Just killing four alphas like it was nothing? Sammy, she—” Taylor looked up at the ceiling, blinking several times before returning his gaze to the picture of Maya.
“She doesn’t need to look so fucking pleased about it, you know? Like she did the world a favour.”
Johnny took the phone off him. “I know, but we got them, didn’t we? Pember, Blake, Isla—they’re the reason they’re in prison.”
Taylor snorted, rocking forwards in the uncomfortable chair.
“I know, but it doesn’t feel like enough.
I want them to fucking suffer for what they did, not be treated like heroes.
I can’t just let it go, JP. I can’t—” He pressed the heels of his palms into his eye sockets, the stress of the day finally catching up to him. He bit his lip as it began to quiver.
Johnny’s hand came up to rest on the nape of his neck, and he pulled him down until their foreheads were touching.
“I know you’re still angry, Tay. I am too, but I look at Marty and…
What if something like that happened to him?
Forced bonding, a pregnancy he couldn’t terminate, raped for being alone in the wrong place at the wrong time, for fuck’s sake? ”
Taylor’s lip twitched. “That will never happen.”
“But what if it did?”