Owen's Bedroom

[Owen]

Everything seemed to drift, fading in and out and back and forth, like rolling waves of lazy fog. All was quiet and still save for the rise and fall of his chest and the steadying drum of his heart; its frantic thunder had slowed and levelled out at last, calming over the hours he had been lying on that bed with the blanket over him, covering the generous bandages that had been applied to the vicious wounds torn into his torso. Given how much of a mess the man had been when he’d been brought in, the room was remarkably spotless, not a thing out of place, not a single speck of blood. The sheets and pillows were the only disrupted objects in the otherwise immaculate room, a space that looked almost directly lifted out of some sort of home catalogue or hotel pamphlet. Not surprisingly that man had tossed and turned in his sleep, his unconscious mind replaying the scarring, horrifying events of the previous night, the flashing of fangs and the booming snarls, those too-bright eyes and those too-sharp claws, shredding and tearing and biting, so much blood and pain.

He shouldn’t have been lying on his chest but that was how he woke up; his body had rolled that way and remained and presumably the individuals who had volunteered to watch him -- as ignorant to those guardians as he was in his unconscious state -- hadn’t wanted to risk doing further harm by moving to the bed itself and repositioning him on his back. Half his face was buried in the increasing gap between the pillows when that lazy fog finally started to loosen its grip on him. Down the bed at the foot of the mattress, the black pedigree German Shepherd lifted her head from the topmost blanket and fixed her eyes on the man as he moved. Just a fraction, little more than an inch, the very beginnings of real movement, not quite the real thing. Crawling on her belly, the dog moved down the bed, neck extending out and head down low so her muzzle could twitch in his direction as he stirred. Zodiac pined quietly.

She jumped back when that weak imitation of movement suddenly erupted into the real thing without warning, consciousness not creeping over the man anymore but slamming into him like an out of control freight train. In a horrible butterfly effect all the wounds that had been torn into him flared horrifically as he moved and his mouth dropped open in a breathless cry of pain, eyes watering instantly with the tears already fighting forcefully to be free from behind the closed lids. His arms wouldn’t hold him up after the initial rise in panic and alarm and he buckled back to the mattress, clutching the pillow into which he buried his face and gripping ever tighter until his knuckles were white and the fabric seemed to creak under his vicious hold. To his left down the bed Zodiac pined again, almost breaking into a thin howl, distressed by Owen’s motions and the pained energy that radiated outward from him in powerful waves.

[Nenet]

Her book lay open on her lap, one cool hand lightly resting against the pages to keep her place, Nenet Bey staring sightlessly down at the words. The female’s mind was far away, lost almost in a different time and a different place. Some small part of her remained aware of the room, aware of the new wolf, ready to react if the need arose. She couldn’t truly comprehend what the wolf in the bed across the room was going through and in all honestly, Nenet didn’t want to. To be one thing for part of your life and then suddenly to find that everything you thought you knew was only a fraction of the world and that you were changed in such a basic way. It had happened to a lot of her friends she knew, but not for the first time, Nenet found herself grateful for having been born with the blood of a werewolf and so not have to go through the frightening and often traumatic turning.

What Nenet could understand however, was the pain. She knew what it was like to awaken in a changed world and she knew what it was like to feel claws raking though your body, seconds stretching out into timeless eons as you lived through it and then relived it in your dreams. It didn’t take someone who had suffered to know that Owen was doing just that. When Nenet’s time looking out for him was over, she fully intended to seek out Seth, both to reassure herself that her friend was alright and to gain comfort from his company. At the sound and movement from Owen on the bed, Nenet found her mind snapping rapidly back into the present. Silently she watched as he writhed, eyes darkening for a moment in sympathy at the pain he had to be in before deciding to act.

Calmly she stood, the cloth of her clothes rustling softly as Nenet gracefully stepped away from her seat, pausing only to place the book neatly on the seat. Keeping every movement controlled and not threatening the female crossed the room, stopping by the end of the bed on the left side, expression compassionate. “Hush little one…” Nenet whispered softly, brown eyes fixed on the dog although she could have been equally speaking to the man on the bed.

[Owen]

Everything felt so wretched and twisted and wrong, a horrific, twisted tangle in his body and mind, that Owen didn’t even realise there was anyone else in the room until he heard that unexpected voice close by the bed on which he lay, the sound too sharp in his ears, too clear even with the thunder of his blood pumping through his veins as if propelled by fire. Tension ripped through him in an instant, tightening already aching muscles and the agony erupted anew. The sheets started to hug to his body as sweat formed, his hair soon growing damp and clinging to his temples and forehead, buried as they were between the pillows. They were cast into a mess as he tried to push himself up and twist at the same time, realising with a delay that the voice nearby meant there was a person nearby and he didn’t know them and the urge to get away flared in him so suddenly, so forcefully, that he couldn’t even stop himself from moving no matter how much it would hurt him, how well he knew it would be painful.

His back struck the headboard and rattled it abruptly off the wall, only adding to Owen’s increasing alarm, eyes wide and feverish as his chest heaved rapidly and erratically, the rhythm thrown into disarray by that surprise. Fear. It was fear. Something on some level acknowledged that with an odd sort of detached nonchalance, something that Owen didn’t recognise and one hand rose shakily from the bed, caught halfway between being extended outward in a request for the strange woman to stay back and going to his head to try and hold everything in. It felt like his skull was going to burst apart from within, there was so much pressure and confusion. Even when he tried to speak, to ask where he was, what was going on, who she was, where Marion had gone, nothing came out but shallow breathless pants and quiet shapeless sounds of anxiety and bewilderment.

[Nenet]

She knew better than to try and approach him while he was in such a state and as such, Nenet made no move too. It was strange to see a wolf so weak and so afraid; normally in her mind they were the very source of power and dignity. Nenet hoped that such strength and power would come to Owen soon enough, not only to right her own personal world but more importantly for his own sake. To be afraid was one thing, his fear coming to her clearly. It was quite another to be afraid and deadly to others, capable of lashing out and inflicting harm at the same time.

Raising her chin a little in a pose that was unmistakably regal and at the same collected and composed, the female regarded Owen quietly for a few seconds, hoping to see some improvement in what was currently little more than animalist motions. Hoping to remove some of the fear, she tried to pre-empt some of the questions that were no doubt forming in his mind. “My name is Nenet Bey and I will you no harm,” she paused for a moment, watching him carefully and trying to judge how much of what she was saying was actually penetrating through the fog of pain and confusion. Calmly, she spoke again, still taking care not to move or act in any way that could be considered a threat. “I am a friend of Marion.”

[Owen]

Owen was a pacifist at heart, an almost ridiculously simple man when it came to habits and behaviours; he worked in advertising, he drove a nice car, he had an office and a schedule, he took his dog for runs with him every morning, he rarely spoke to his ex-wife anymore, he looked at that photo of his late daughter at least once a day. To have everything normally so routine and run of the mill thrown into so much chaos and confusion was playing utter havoc with his mind. Nothing made any sense, everything was all bright colours and loud sounds, nothing was right. It all felt so out of shape and distorted, like someone had taken the world and shaken it all up and he’d awoken to some alternate reality, a reality where all he could really feel was pain and fear. He wanted to go back to how it was, how it had been, just go home, curl up in his bed under the familiar sheets and get back to his normal life.

That animal had ruined all that. It had been an animal, hadn’t it? Owen didn’t even know what it had been, the conversations he had had with not only Marion but her father, of all people, had tumbled into the corners of his mind, clogged up with thick cobwebs and dust and he couldn’t access those memories. Not yet.

Without even realising what was happening, that frantic thunder of his heart calmed a little when the woman started to speak. Something about her just helped the topmost layers of unbridled panic fall away as though she were reaching out with some invisible energy and sweeping them aside. That only added to the confusion, naturally, but Owen watched her through rebellious bangs of dark hair that clung to his damp skin, breathing heavily, awkwardly, and tried to pull himself together. “Wh-where am I?”

[Nenet]

Violence was to be avoided wherever possible but there were times, as tragic as they where when the only response was some kind of violent act. Nenet wouldn’t claim to know Owen or much about him but she had watched him sleep, seen how he moved when his unconscious mind had been in control, unaware of being watched. More importantly she had seen the way in which his dog had reacted to him and the worry it had felt; she would go out on a limb and say that he was a good man and unlikely to have riled one of their kind in such a way to deserve what had happened to him. Which left the option of a young one unable to control themselves or someone who wasn’t a good man.

She smiled gently at Owen, hoping that her presence would keep him calm and hold him closer to reality. If he could calm down enough to speak then that was a large step in the right direction. It was amazing how many subtle little hints they could pick up on, even such a new wolf as the man in the bed a few feet away from her. It was why some of the pack, no matter how good natured and kind they were not good at looking after new comers, they might simply be too excitable; Nenet was just happy that she could do this little thing for him.

“You are in The Hyperion, a safe place. I know it is not much of an answer, but please believe that it is safe and you are safe. How are you feeling?”

[Owen]

Owen couldn’t even understand why it was that his panic had tamed even the small degree that it had. Being in unfamiliar surroundings after what had happened, after he surely should have died from his injuries, should have been enough to throw even the most stable man into a frenzy of fear and confusion, but the woman standing beside his bed was having some kind of soothing effect on him, regardless of the fact that he couldn’t understand the how or why of it. Confusion of another kind, less volatile, sparking something else potent and spontaneous inside of him, something he hadn’t been expecting. Curiosity. Why he was curious at a time like this, when he should have been stumbling around trying to find some way out -- and perhaps to a hospital, which this very obviously was not -- was beyond him, just another piece in the very large, very complex puzzle that was his life all of a sudden.

“The Hyperion?” His voice was dry, breathless, as though he had been sleeping for days without hydration of any kind, his lungs protesting to their natural function, almost as if the organs were yearning to shut down altogether simply so they wouldn’t have to struggle. One of his hands lifted and covered his eyes, the back of his throbbing skull against the headboard behind him. Feeling movement against the mattress, he almost flinched but was relieved and reassured when he felt familiar silky fur beneath his fingertips. Zodiac’s muzzle nudged his hand and then she licked his palm with a whine. Taking the hand from his face he smiled wearily. If his dog was comfortable here then clearly all the paranoia and unfounded concern he was feeling could be pushed away, if only temporarily. “I feel--” Putting it into words felt absurd. Owen couldn’t even begin to explain how he felt, so he kept his eyes on Zodiac as she continued to nudge and lick at his hand, her brush-like tail thumping the bed lightly. “I feel like I was attacked by an animal that shouldn’t rightfully exist in the real world.”

[Nenet]

Unbeknown to her, Nenet’s thoughts briefly lined up in sync with another strong female of the pack as she hoped that Min-Ho was having a similarly calm time with the newcomer she was watching over; at the very least she hoped that he knew what he now was. The dark haired wolf never enjoyed giving the ‘yes werewolves actually are real’ speech. It always felt so demeaning in a way to have to justify her own existence to someone newly introduced into her world; to have to prove that she and all her kind really did exist. Nenet understood why it had to be that way and that it was far too unpredictable and dangerous to reveal themselves to the general population of the world but that still didn’t ease the sting of being considered a fable, a horrible myth, something to be told to children to try and make them behave. She kept her peace about his comment, unable to deny the truth in some of his words. Whoever had attacked him had indeed been nothing more than an animal.

A gentle smile remained on her face as she watched Owen interact with his pet. So many dogs had trouble when confronted with a werewolf, no doubt recognizing the scent of a predator and an opponent. Nate’s dog had been an exception and she was glad that here was another; the change was a frightening time and if the dark German Shepherd helped to keep him calm then so much the better, it made her own job that little bit easier. “I think…” Nenet began at last, picking each word with care, knowing she was stepping into a potential minefield. “I think you give the so called real world too much credit, to believe it knows all the answers. You should try and rest before worrying so much.”

[Owen]

Werewolves were not real. That was the big problem Owen was going to have with whatever happened from this point on. He had seen a colossal, ferocious animal, yes, something out of nightmares, but it had not been something so outlandish as a werewolf. Those were in no way corporeal or tangible, not part of the world in which he lived. Yes, there were things that couldn’t be explained by the best scientific minds of the age, but that didn’t mean the supernatural or paranormal actually existed. Just because something wasn’t easily explained, that did not mean you went running off to goblins and spirits and witches and demons. There was a logical explanation for all of this. There had to be. The conversation he had had with Marion and her father via the telephone had been scrambled in his brain, too easily lost in the fog and forgotten for the time being, perhaps only to be recalled later when someone had explained everything to him patiently and sensibly. There was an explanation for all of this. There was.

Owen kept his weary eyes on his dog, finding comfort and an anchor of sorts in the sight of the animal he knew so well, a creature he trusted implicitly. When Nenet spoke again Owen’s eyes lifted from Zodiac’s soothing form and he found the woman’s face, brow furrowing at what she said to him. “None of this makes any sense,” he said to her, almost too straightforwardly for someone who rightfully should have died only the previous night. How he was alive and not in some kind of teetering coma was completely beyond him. “Why am I here? Why aren’t I in a hospital? What is this place?” The name and Nenet’s verbal assurance that it was a safe place didn’t tell him much, after all.

[Nenet]

Personally, Nenet had never enjoyed the use of the word ‘Supernatural’ to describe creatures like herself. While perhaps they were indeed super to some degree – some more than others, the image of Seth proclaiming himself to be a superhero rising unbidden in her mind for a moment – they were still natural, still living, breathing creatures. Still a part of the world and it was only the ignorance of the majority of the population that labelled them unnatural. So much of the world around them had changed since the days of her youth, so much was normal now that had seemed unnatural, impossible even back on the hot plains of Egypt. Perhaps in time, the world would come to accept werewolves.

Right now, Nenet was concerned only with Owen accepting the truth, even as she skirted delicately around it. Without thinking, action more an idle motion than actually needing to do it, Nenet smoothed down the front of her dress, brushing against rustling fabric. The simple action helped her think, to clear her mind and try and decide how to best answer his questions. As much as she didn’t want to have the actual conversation and tell him – remind him – of the change, it seemed as though there was little choice in the matter, Nenet watching Owen carefully. They would have to take this one step at a time. “Marion called us to help you. She found you last night, do you remember that?”

[Owen]

As Nenet moved her hands, Zodiac lifted her head from beneath Owen's familiar palm and looked in the unknown female's direction, big eyes staring, trying to judge if this stranger was safe or not. Her voice was soothing, her manner was calm and collected, the energy a reflection of that, but it was the scent that was confusing the dog, throwing all those in-built instincts into disarray. Domesticated dogs had long lived with an instinctual wariness, even fear, of wolves, and with the smell of one hovering in the air and yet no visible signs of one, Zodiac clearly wasn't sure what to make of it all. She made a low whine in the base of her throat and nuzzled and nudged her head back into place beneath her owner's hand.

Miraculously, it didn't escape Owen's notice that Nenet didn't answer his questions and just briefly, frustration rose before it ran out of steam and died down again. He was too tired to be irritated, to let his temper do any of the work for him, and anyway, snapping and demanding answers likely wouldn't get him anywhere. He would have to be patient, ride it out, wait and see. "I remember," he mumbled wearily, his eyes back on his pet, the familiar and therefore comforting presence and form settled in against his leg and side. "Her assistant was with her."

[Nenet]

It was rare indeed for a dog to be comfortable in the presence of wolves. There were exceptions, as there always was for anything. Ones such as Brock could grow to accept the scents, perhaps even understand that they were no threat. Others that had been taken in by a werewolf when they were still pups knew no other way, the love and care bestowed on them by their owners overwriting that instinctive wariness. The dark haired woman hoped with all her heart that the dog currently by Owen’s side would fall into the exceptions category. The signs were promising, from the way she pressed herself near her owner, apparently not caring that he was different now, even if there was still enough sense left in the animal to know that Nenet or perhaps just the room, was a potential danger.

Nenet knew that her evasive replies had to be frustrating to Owen and it impressed her that he hadn’t lost control yet. It would be far worse however, in her eyes, if she answered his questions as he wished and told him everything in one long, confusing burst. “You were badly injured, you had been attacked and your injuries could not be dealt with at a hospital,” she told him calmly, gauging his reaction to every word she spoke. “The creature that attacked you…” here Nenet hesitated, not wanting to step too deeply into what had to be painful and upsetting memories. “Do you remember that?”

[Owen]

When it came to the black dog pressed in against Owen's leg and side, nuzzling his hand with her nose and muzzle, there was nothing else to the matter other than familiarity and habit, a lifelong trust and instinctive urge to be close to him, especially if she could help. Zodiac was a very perceptive animal, as dogs were in general, quick to read energies and body language, and even with the shift in Owen's scent -- as ignorant to that fact as the man was -- she knew it was still Owen, the man who pet her, kept her dry and warm and safe, the man who fed her and had kept a roof over her head, toys in her basket, cushions in her bed. He was the same man who had let her cuddle up next to him or across his lap on the couch. Owen was to be trusted and loved and followed. It would clearly take more than a change in scent to put off the German Shepherd by his side.

It wasn't just a frustration he recognised that lingered beneath the surface when Nenet answered his questions in the way he did, it was something else, something deeper and darker. Maybe it was just because he was tired, or because so much had happened and had yet to be explained. Whatever the case, Owen wasn't prone to panic, not usually, and so he would keep himself together, at least as long as he could. The dog at his side helped, just as she always had. "Hospitals are designed to deal with emergency cases," he argued quietly, even as what she went on to say registered and his eyes narrowed as the memories began to surface, not in a steady stream, but in flashes and bursts. Owen's eyes closed then, and his breathing caught, locking in his chest as he tried to rein in that rush of recollection. It was several seconds before he trusted his voice enough to respond, "I remember." Really all he remembered was sharp teeth and dark fur, something impossible but real nonetheless, large and vicious, but Nenet hadn't asked how much he remembered, just whether or not he did.

[Marion]

Continued from Hallways
Marion took a deep breath and knocked again, trying the door. Zodiac's nose came around the edge of the door as she opened it -

"Hey Zo... is Owen here...? Can I come in, sweetie?" She tousled the dog's ears and kept her eyes down.

[Owen]

POST TIMESKIP.


Owen was no longer entirely sure he recognised the man he saw in the mirror. The reflection hadn't changed much, his hair a little longer than it used to be and the stubble around his mouth and jaw a darker shadow than before, but nothing major had changed. His eyes were the same colour, his nose was the same shape, the lines and angles were all identical to the ones from any number of photographs residing in his currently-unoccupied apartment in The Colony. But Owen didn't really recognise himself anymore.

Something had changed. It was more a feeling than anything physical and tangible, something that he couldn't quite understand. He was coming to realise that understanding might just be beyond his grasp; so much had changed in his life in such a short space of time that he wasn't sure what to do with himself anymore. Cole, the pack's Alpha male, a werewolf who looked so much younger than Owen but was in fact so much older, centuries older, had told him that he could stay in The Hyperion as long as he liked, and that he could remain with the pack, become a member.

Pack. Wolves. Alphas. Owen couldn't get his head around it still, and the more he tried to do so, the more out of his reach it all became. Honestly, if it hadn't been for the familiarity of Zodiac and the compassion and softness of Nenet Bey, the female who had been in the room with him when he'd awoken after the attack, he thought he might have lost his mind.

His thoughts were derailed by a voice in the room, dragging his attention from the mirror into which he had been staring blankly for who knew how long. Owen stood in place for a few moments, listening to the sound of Zodiac's paws shuffling over the carpet as the German Shepherd enthusiastically greeted someone she knew, and realised just who had come into the bedroom. Marion. He hadn't seen her in weeks, hadn't spoken to her. Owen felt a little thrown, but showed himself all the same, stepping around the door and into the opening between the bathroom and the main bedroom. "Zo." That was all he said and the black dog moved fully away from the door, tail swaying from side to side as she trotted directly to his side as he stepped into the bedroom properly, settling herself down immediately at his right heel without a fuss.