After the incident at Igor's Calvin had woken up in a prison cell. He remembered little - a bar and some snowmen, but beyond that, everything was a blur. Beyond the normal hangover, Calvin's nose hurt and he could feel that it was swollen and a bandage was over it. A warm ice pack was on the floor.
It wasn't long before the prison guard came to his cell and unlocked the door.
"Come with me. Time for you to go."
He didn't know what earned him a night in jail, but he had slept through the entire sentence. Calvin followed the jailer to an office where a cop issued him a hefty fine for public intoxication and disorderly conduct. The guy was also nice enough to tell him that his nose was fractured and the doctor wanted him to ice it. It should heal fine, but might be slightly crooked. Calvin didn't speak at all, accepting the fine and wondering how he was going to pay it.
Several days later...
His nose was healing up fine. He iced it when he could. Explaining it at work had been a problem. Calvin had told Viktor that he had fallen and the look on Viktor's face said he didn't believe him. It was the closest thing to anger that Calvin had ever seen the jolly man display. Calvin had wondered if the man was beginning to catch on, and although he needed help and wanted it, he didn't believe he deserved it.
It was late on a Friday night and Calvin was walking the streets of Moscow trying to decide what to do to stop the pain in his chest. He could drink, but money was tight now. The fine had eaten up his savings and the constant drinking was wreaking havoc on his budget. He had alcohol at home, but when he got the bottle of whiskey out, he saw the pictures of his family. It had only increased the shame he felt. It hadn't occurred to him to put the pictures away until he had walked for about a half an hour. He would do that when he got home; Calvin didn't want his family to watch him destroy himself.
Breaking glass. The sound came from around the corner. Calvin had his answer - he would become the Wolfman again. Calvin pulled his scarf over his mouth and nose to conceal his his face - wincing slightly as he put pressure on his nose. The hat he wore to keep his ears warm would conceal his hair color. Then he pulled out the contact lens case and removed the lenses; the wolf eyes were the symbol of the Wolfman - like the bat for Batman or the "S" for Superman.
Calvin turned the corner seeing a house with a broken window - it was one of the large windows that opened into a family room. As he got closer, the sounds of struggle came into his augmented hearing, and Calvin jumped into the house through the window. The house was dark as the family had gone down to bed. Calvin could see pictures - a man, woman, and daughter - and the site reminding him of his own family and it caused Calvin to snarl as he embraced the wolf.
His eyes came across a wrapped present, the glow from the streetlight making the writing on the tag visible "To Daddy for when you come back from your work trip"
So the father was gone. Calvin heard a woman and child scream upstairs and Calvin growled. He wouldn't let what happened to him happen to another man. He began to stalk up the stairs, the house becoming darker as he did so. Unlucky for his prey, Calvin could see in the dark.
Edited by
Calvin, Sep 14 2014, 08:08 PM.
Jensen was in much the same uncertain mood that lingered like shadows of always. Since meeting Pyotr, he'd made arrangements to attend mass together again, but the six days between services stretched like eons. By the end of the week, the sense of peace had faded and the need for fulfillment arose.
Listening to police radio was less helpful than he'd anticipated in tracking crime. Often he was too late to aid, and the presence of police deterred him from volunteering. There were criminal gangs to haunt, but he learned a hard lesson the night he and Connor stormed a compound. Such offenses took careful planning, and Jensen continued to dance around the difficulty of hurting some to save others.
It was sheer luck that he stopped to gas up his bike at a station near the would-be break in. The future thief strolled out of the station with a tire iron in one hand a container of gasoline in the other. His face was obscured by a heavy winter's mask. Jensen, in his helmet, turned to watch the suspicious character cross the street. He approached no car, and Jensen suspected the man had car troubles. Perhaps there was something to be done to help?
He followed the path the man took a few minutes later. A few streets over, he saw the figure of a man laden with goods in each hand about a block ahead. Again, no abandoned car in sight. A warning flashed across Jensen's mind, like instinct, and caused him to power down his bike and park it. The figure darted suddenly to the right, and Jensen ran on light feet to catch up. He quickly ducked out of sight as the man broke a window and climbed through. He was reaching for his wallet to the call the police when he heard a cry from inside.
Panic set his focus and he drew toward the blessed light to aide him. True to the Gift, his senses amplified. He followed, careful not to snag the glass on his white and yellow bike suit, nor bump his helmet on the window sash. He kept the black visor down, but deactivated the anti-glare coating to give himself a better sense of sight.
The care for stealth quickly disappeared as he rushed upstairs. He followed the noises to what he gathered was a master bedroom and threw himself against the door. He all but fell inside, but the surprise was his advantage. Light from the street flashed on the tire iron as it swung where his head was a moment before. Jensen ducked and spun around, arms curling furiously about. The thief, Jensen hoped he was only a thief, was thrown to the wall. He fell in a space between a chest of drawers and the bed.
The woman screamed, and Jensen turned to console her. Her daughter was crying also.
There was little time to accomplish much until he saw a pair of yellow orbs, like eyes, hover in the doorway.
Calvin stepped into the room, his posture like that of a wolf about to pounce. He saw the man in front of the woman and child and a growl issued up from his throat. The man's scent was strange - it was unlike that of the rapist from before.
He was the only man Calvin saw - his prey. Calvin moved in a semi circle, keeping his eyes on the man, the tension in his body evident. Calvin glared at the man and part of him wanted to tear the scarf from his face and sink his teeth into him.
He felt the familiar presence of Dawn Wind in his mind. "Star Gazer...
Calvin shook his head and the thought of killing left, but the desire to stop the man was still there. The wolf in him was subdued, but not gone.
Calvin growled again. "You won't take them from him."
With that, he moved forward to engage the man.
A threat growled, but there was no time to react. Jensen's feet were swept out beneath him. His back hit the floor. The sounds of screaming drowned his own yell.
Thoughts of monsters sped through his mind. But the weight wrestling him to the ground was too much to withstand. This was no ghost, and if he was a demon, he was heavy.
"Stop! Please."
His begging muffled behind the throes of panic. Power splayed and rippled like a stone skidding across the lake. But the Gift grew distant and untamed. He couldn't focus! He tried to crawl away. His head pounded inside his helmet. Aches pummeled his body.
Soon, he curled his head to his chest and prayed it would end.
Calvin struck bringing the man to the ground as he did so. The man moved, making it hard for Calvin to get a grasp on him. Calvin had enough humanity not to lunge at the man's throat with his teeth. The scarf was in the way anyways and the man's motorcycle helmet would have made it difficult. Instead, he tried to grapple with the man, gaining the advantage.
"No..no...no..."
the mother said.
"Mommy...his eyes are yellow - like the article said - why is the Wolfman hurting the man that saved us?"
the young girl said.
Calvin stopped...the young girls words reaching the human part of his brain. He eyes turned to face the girl. The mother was holding her tightly. The mother's eyes held fear and the girls curiosity. Calvin sniffed the air and he could smell the fear eminating from the man beneath him and the mother; the girls sent held fear and curiousity. Another scent came from between the bed and a chest.
Calvin's eyes stared at the spot the unknown scent was coming from.
"The bad man is over there."
A look of sadness came into Calvin's eyes.
"By God, what have I become?
Calvin thought as he stood. Calvin offered his hand to the man beneath him.
"Sorry...
he couldn't come up with any other words to say as he helped the man stand and moved to find the actual criminal. The man with the helmet had certainly done a number on him. He was quite unconscious. Calvin found a rope and tied the man up and hoisted him over his shoulder.
He turned to the mother.
"I'll leave him downstairs. Call the police to pick him up. There's a precinct nearby it shouldn't take long...and sorry I scared you."
He turned to the little girl.
"Thank you for your intervention, miss. I'm sorry I scared you too.
Calvin turned to the man in the motorcycle helmet.
"I'm sorry - I thought you were going to hurt them. I hope I didn't harm you too much. Come with me - I'll buy you a drink or something to make up for it."
Although Calvin felt bad about what he had done to the man, getting a drink wasn't exclusively meant to help the man; it would give him an excuse to go get a drink for himself too. Calvin moved to leave the bedroom and head back downstairs.
Edited by
Calvin, Sep 17 2014, 11:12 PM.
Jensen didn't hear the children speak. He couldn't but for the sound of his own blood pounding in his head.
Suddenly, he could breathe again. The weight lifted. The shadow of the larger man moved away. Jensen was shaking as he was lifted to his feet. As he was pulled up, he grappled at his powers like reaching for a shield to hide behind.
As soon as he was freed, Jensen stumbled backwards, placing himself between the intruder and the vulnerable family. He spread his arms wide, literally blocking them from the yellow eye'd man's path.
Yellow eyes. Doulou.
The fleeing storm within seemed to have left the man deflated and Jensen in a state of shock.
Wary, Jensen remained with the family nestled behind him while the other man bundled the original intruder downstairs.
The heaving of breath had slowed by the time he turned around to face the family.
"Call the police. Tell them as much or as little as you feel you should do. Neither of you are hurt?"
His voice was calmer than he expected it to be. The delivery was drawn from his days behind the pulpit.
They shook their heads no, but Jensen would not believe it until he sensed it for himself. Calmer now that they were alone, he wrenched the force of the Blessed Gift to his will and laid it gently as he could upon either dear soul. They had spoken true, neither were injured.
As Jensen turned to go, the child tugged him on his hand, stopping him. Those wide eyes pleaded. Her innocence glowed.
"What's your name? I want to pray to God for you to be blessed."
Jensen knelt. The child's eyes likely reflected back at herself in the helmet visor. Like the child was staring into the strange face of a deliverer Jensen could never claim to be.
He gently laid a hand on the child's shoulder.
"I am merely God's messenger, and I am blessed beyond belief."
He smiled, but it was hidden behind the mask of his helmet, shielding his identity.
Finally, Jensen went downstairs and found the man who could speak to wolves. Doulou had explained it all the night Jensen and he met. The eyes gave it away and the force of his growl.
Although the intruder seemed secure, Jensen was not willing to assume so until he checked for himself. The man was coming-to about then, and Jensen welled with guilt for having stunned him unconscious to begin with.
"You owe me nothing, it's okay. But we should go. Police will be here any minute."
A cold wind blew through the living room and Jensen gazed at the broken window. The drawl of his accent grew tired.
"Until they do, perhaps we should watch the house to make sure nothing else decides to crawl inside."
But for his part, Jensen meant to leave by the back door.
Edited by
Jensen James, Sep 18 2014, 07:41 PM.
The man followed after some time. He must have taken some time to make sure the mother and child were okay. Calvin wouldn't have been good at that kind of thing. At one time maybe - now - life was just a daily struggle to care. Calvin had put the contact lenses back in, so the golden glow from his eyes were hidden behind brown lenses.
Calvin was disappointed that the man didn't want to get a drink. Calvin craved one and thought it would be nice to not be alone. Part of him still wanted help, but was unable to ask. The man checked the intruder making sure his bonds were tight. and suggested they keep a watch until the police arrived.
"Fine - go ahead - I'll follow."
Calvin said.
The man was interesting to him. His motives for being here completely different from Calvin's. He seemed to have wanted to help. Calvin was seeking control - of himself and his abilities. Tonight he had failed - the wolf had taken control and he hadn't thought. The detective had been right - Calvin was dangerous.
The thought made Calvin want to reevaluate things. The pain was still there, constantly gnawing at him. The answer had to be somewhere, but Calvin couldn't find it. He didn't know who to ask. All he knew is the booze made it go away for awhile.
He headed towards the back door with the man.
"My name is..."
Calvin stopped. He didn't trust the man yet, but something inside of him begged him to try to connect. Calvin didn't know if he could.
"I mean, Why are you here?"
Edited by
Calvin, Sep 18 2014, 11:26 PM.
Together, they left the house proper and hid in a space across the street and near his bike. Jensen kept a tight hold on the thrashing violence of the Gift, until its powers subsided to still waters calmed after the storm. It gave him a bright eyed view of the street and broken window.
They'd not spoken since crossing the street, and Jensen was wary of the larger man during the awkward silence. He'd kept his helmet on throughout the duration of their interaction. The sweat under his bike suit stuck his clothes to his skin, so the cold was welcome. He was eager to push up the visor and let his eyes breathe cold air, but he held his identity close to his chest. Particularly when in the company of another American.
For now, there wasn't time to talk about their respective motivations. Sirens wailed in the distance and they needed to leave. "This is my bike,"
he said as he got on and steadied it upright.
He twisted and pat the seat behind him. "Come on. I'll drop you somewhere. We can't get far without getting you a helmet, but at least out of the neighborhood."
Sirens grew closer, and Jensen swallowed. They needed to be gone.
They crossed the street, Calvin didn't speak and the motorcycle man didn't answer his question. They kept an eye out, Calvin heard the sirens approaching and prepared to leave until the motorcycle man broke the silence.
"This is my bike. Come on. I'll drop you somewhere. We can't get far without getting you a helmet, but at least out of the neighborhood."
Calvin looked at him, his eyes sad, and he turned and looked at the house again. Calvin wondered about the man that had been gone on a business trip. Was he like Calvin? Did he love his family? Had Calvin...well no...had the motorcycle man prevented that man from becoming what Calvin was now. Calvin was no hero - this man was a hero - offering what he had to help others. Calvin's motivations on the other hand were selfish. He turned back and walked toward the bike, sighing. His family would be ashamed of him and he knew it. The pictures were going down when he got home.
Calvin got on the bike where the man had indicated and held on. Calvin felt guilt, shame, and so many other emotions that it was hard to contain, and he sniffled a bit, before stifling back the tears that were beginning to form. "I'm sorry again...I don't know why you're not pressing charges, but...thanks. There's a bar nearby...that will suffice as a place to drop me off. I need..."
he didn't finish the sentence. This man couldn't help him anymore than he had, and Calvin wasn't sure he deserved to be helped. Right now, the pain was building again - threatening always in the back of his head to take control.
They turned the corner before the police arrived and Jensen breathed a sigh of relief. The family would be okay and most importantly, nobody was hurt in the ordeal. Except the thief, he remembered, and regret replaced relief. He'd checked the man to make sure his ties were secure, but he should have offered to heal him.
Little good it would do to dwell upon it now. Calvin asked to be dropped at a bar. Even if Jensen knew the neighborhood, he wasn't fond of the idea of leaving an obviously bothered individual alone to drink. Those were the kinds of demons Jensen chased, until a blessed individual showed him the light. Hopefully Doulou was well.
Calvin's presence wasn't something he could dismiss. Heaven help him, but Jensen was acutely aware of his presence. Not only asking what he had, but the way he steadied himself when the bike took a turn.
He never drove to the bar that Calvin requested. Instead, he drove to the place he was originally headed before the whole ordeal began.
He pulled into a garage beneath a nice building in the MSU district. He owed Calvin an explanation, though.
So after they were on their feet, Jensen finally pulled the helmet from his head and shook out his hair. Concern softened any other expression that might have crimped the corners of his eyes.
He stretched out a hand and properly introduced himself. "Jensen James."
It almost hurt to say his own name, but he said it none the less. It was a step. "I hope you don't mind this rather than the bar. I don't have any alcohol, but I do make an outstanding lemonade."
The garage door was behind them. Calvin could leave if he wanted and Jensen wouldn't follow.