bitten_notshy | Saturday Morning, Derek's House

Jack	Jack awoke the morning after the first night of the full moon, sore and dirty and ferociously hungry and -- he realized as he tried to stretch -- chained to a post in the floor. He'd had better mornings. He also seemed to be alone. "Derek, I'm hungry," he called in a loud voice that sounded quite a bit like an angry whine. "Derek! Let me out?"
Derek	Hey, who hadn't had better mornings than waking up chained to the floor? First of all, Derek tossed Jack's pants over to him. Because he was considerate like that. He might have had a cup of coffee and a bag with a scone waiting for when that was taken care of. Don't think you're special, Jack. He wanted coffee and you were just an after thought. Of wolf bros.
Jack	Right. Pants. Jack saluted in thanks, then twisted himself in position to get them on. The chains rubbed against his wrists as he awkwardly slid them over his hips. Better than being naked, anyhow. He licked his lips and sniffed. "There's coffee." He sounded slightly more human now, almost hopeful.
Derek	Derek made a noise that was possibly a yes before crouching down to unlock him from the chains. "Do you remember your time changed?" Jack could find the coffee and food without any help.
Jack	"Barely remember my own name yet," Jack told him, which was not entirely true. "Give me a second." He knew. It was flooding his brain, it was singing through the healing scratches on his torso. He crammed half a scone into his mouth, chewed and swallowed, before he admitted, "I made you chase me down. Didn't I."
Derek	"Yes." A work in progress, it seemed. "You're stronger than I expected. It won't happen again."
Jack	"You're stronger than I am," Jack said, with no bitterness but some surprise. "Or smarter enough that strength doesn't matter." He crumbled a bit of scone to dust between his fingertips. "We have two more nights to get it right, anyhow. This month."
Derek	"...two more?"
Jack	"Yeah," Jack said. He was now gulping his coffee like it was water in a desert. "Full moon itself, two nights right after it. I thought I said." Or he'd assumed Derek would just know.
Derek	Derek stared for a moment. "That's different." Hey, at least he wouldn't have the overwhelming urge to murder people during the next few days? Well, no more than normal.
Jack	Jack stared back. "It's how it works," he said, petulant. "Wait, not only can you control it, but you're only stuck with it one night a month? This is unfair." He was going to write a strongly worded letter to his representative.
Derek	"You did..." Well. "You didn't actively try to kill me. That was better than some."
Jack	Jack smiled tightly. "I didn't like you much, but you weren't prey. And I think the mantra stuff" -- he waved a hand vaguely -- "did help me think after I changed. A little."
Derek	"It's progress." And that was important, Jack! See, no need to have you killed to protect everyone else from your wanting to play lacrosse and date someone whose family dedicated their lives to killing your kind--wait. What?
Jack	"It is. And we have plenty of time to make more progress." Jack didn't sound happy about this. But he sounded ... less ragingly unhappy than he would have a month before.
Derek	"If nothing else, my presence might be enough to keep you in check." With awesome.
Jack	"We can hope," Jack said, and let himself do just that. He finished his coffee and muttered, "... and I'll fix the hole I put in your wall."
Derek	Derek shrugged, picking up the chains instead of really addressing that. Because it wasn't even his house. Not really.