Content Warning: This story contains implications and mentions of non-consensual sexual situations. The situations are not described. They happen "off screen" and directly affect a main character in this story. Please use discretion when reading.
This a bit of a slow burn, lots of plot with a bit of sex. The sex is at the end if you want to skip all the build up.
Characters depicted in sexual situations are all over 18 years old. All characters are mine.
Angela's Apocalypse: Full Moon Apocalypse
September 2043
Darin woke with a start. The collar around his neck was cold and biting into his skin. He was curled in a tight crescent shape facing the chain link of his enclosure. A foul rotten taste coated his tongue and throat causing him to cough harshly. He spat out a rancid glob of flesh.
"Fuck," he groaned, with another sharp cough.
A dull thud pounded all through his skull, while his muscles ached deeply down to the bone. It was as if he could feel them pulsing and contracting around his skeletal structure, which was more than a little unpleasant. Darin rubbed the dirty heel of his hand against one eye then other, but he kept them closed for a moment longer against the fall light streaming down on him.
The quarters he lived in between full moon phases were small with an outdoor yard accessed by a crawl through. It was the type of thing you would see for animals in a sketchy zoo and that was exactly how he felt at the moment; trapped, abused, and sick. He was filthy as they only let him wash once a month usually right after his transformation. The wash was simply someone hosing him off quickly while he frantically scrubbed his skin and hair with a shaving of soap they tossed at him.
His stomach rolled but felt empty at the same time. That's how he knew there had been undead last night. As a werewolf the virus didn't turn him, but his stomach was always roiling and uncomfortable for a week after he dispatched them, especially more than one. He hacked again, the cough racking his thin body. He felt the ache of it deep in his chest, and he groaned weakly.
"Are you OK?" a small voice asked from behind him.
Darin twitched at the sound, rubbing his eyes open before he rolled over slowly trying to clear his throat. He spat out another disgusting glob from his mouth. A boy was huddling in the corner of the yard. Darin felt a horrible drop in his stomach as he registered who was sharing his pen. It was crystal clear to him what had been done; the knowledge caused a twist of deep unadulterated hatred for himself to coil tightly in his chest.
"Sorry," Darin said roughly rubbing his arm over his mouth. "That was gross."
"That's...OK," the boy said.
He pulled his knees closer to him, trying to take up as little space as possible. Darin studied the boy. His face was streaked with dirt and his mouth and chin were slathered with blood. The boy also wore a tight collar around his neck, the skin beneath it bruising already.
There were some blobs of flesh near the boy and a small puddle of vomit. His body was also streaked with dirt and mud. He leaned heavily against the chain link, his arms wrapped around his knees. Both he and the boy wore tattered dirty boxer shorts. At least they were afforded that small "dignity."
"I'm OK," Darin said. "Just a bad taste in my mouth."
The boy's eyes traveled to him once again and looked over him. He nodded slowly, not taking his eyes off Darin now. He crawled closer to the boy, who flinched and tried to pull even tighter to himself.
"It's OK, I won't hurt you," Darin said. "Are you OK?"
The boy's eyes glassed with tears that immediately spilled over. He looked away from Darin, out through the chain link again.
"I miss my dads," the boy said.
"Yeah," Darin said slowly.
His eyes raked over the boy's arms quickly and he saw what he'd dreaded he might see. The boy's arm was covered in bloody bite marks. Darin was sure the other, tucked close to his side and pressing against the chain link, probably looked the same.
"Did you..." Darin started. The boy turned to look at him again. "Do you know what happened to your arms?"
"Yes," he said. The boy's eyes darkened. "And I know it was you. But I'm just too tired to be mad at you."
A sob worked up Darin's chest and like the boy he was too tired to stop it. He buried his face in his hands and cried for a minute. For a five count he let himself loudly and messily sob before he forced himself to stop and wiped his eyes roughly.
"Fuck," he growled. "I'm sorry kid. I don't have a lot of control when I'm a wolf, unless we're family."
"I guess we're family now," the boy said.
He still had tears on his cheeks but was silent as he cried.
"I guess," Darin replied quietly. "What's your name?"
"Jax," he said.
"Jax, I'm Darin." He stood shakily and held out a hand to the boy. "Come on, they'll be coming in with the hose to clean up here soon. Then they'll let us rinse off."
Jax glanced down at the vomit and the globs of rancid flesh he'd obviously retched up.
"That's OK Jax. It's normal, well normal for a first-time werewolf," Darin said.
Jax reached up to Darin and grasped his hand. Darin pulled him gently up. Jax wobbled and gagged a little clutching a hand to his mouth.
"It's OK kid, don't swallow it. It's coming up for a reason," Darin said gently.
Jax turned and Darin closed his eyes at the sound of splattering. Jax started to sob.
"Hey, hey," Darin rubbed a hand over his shuddering back. "It's OK. It's gross, but you'll be OK."
Jax nodded as he straightened up, but his sobbing didn't stop. Darin carefully reached out and brushed his hand through the kid's filthy hair.
"Shhhh, it's OK kid," Darin said. "You're not alone Jax alright?" Jax's glimmering eyes held Darin's, and he nodded. "Alright, let's go in. They let us sleep for a few hours before it's our turn to get cleaned up."
The two crawled through the small door that led to their indoor enclosure. On opposite walls there were thin mattresses topped with a scratchy woolen blanket. A big bucket was tucked into a corner for other needs.
"Just try to get some rest OK, Jax," Darin said.
Jax nodded and pulled the blanket over his skinny shivering body. Darin put his back to Jax again, curled into a crescent and cried silently until he fell asleep.
~~
"Alright you two, get up!" a rough voice shouted.
A baton banged against the bars of the enclosure Jax and Darin slept in. Darin jumped and snarled, unable to hold it back in his surprise.
"Oh! Getting an attitude huh wolf?" the voice spat.
Darin grimaced, he knew that voice, fucking Garcia. He'd come in with Monica's crew and ruined everything that The Safety had been.
He rolled to his back and pushed himself into a seated position and glared at the man standing outside the enclosure.
"Darin, my name is Darin," he growled.
Garcia grinned evilly at him.
"I think I'll just stick with wolf," Garcia said.
Darin glanced across the room and saw Jax, huddled in the corner. If it was possible he was even more of a mess than before. Tears leaked from his eyes, his boxer shorts and mattress were soaked with urine. His chin was not only streaked with blood now but also vomit. Darin felt a wave of guilt for sleeping through all of the kid's issues, he was always just so exhausted after transformation, especially now since he wasn't allowed to recover properly.
Garcia finally registered that Darin was studying the kid and the mess. He looked over and let out a disgusted yell.
"Christ kid! There's a bucket for a reason," Garcia snarled, putting a hand over his mouth and nose.
Jax hiccupped and put his forehead to his knees, sobbing loudly.
"I want my dad," Jax moaned as he hiccupped again.
Darin cringed and stood unsteadily walking over to Jax. He plopped next to him carefully avoiding the rancid puddles. He smelled terrible, but Darin was sure he reeked just as badly.
"Sick!" Garcia mumbled.
"It's OK, Jax," Darin mumbled to the kid. "It's the exhaustion, it's alright."
Jax continued to sob and pulled himself into a tighter ball.
"Fucking gross," Garcia said. "Grant is hosing out the mess you two left outside. He'll be in to hose you sick fucks off soon."
"Fuck you Garcia," Darin said half-heartedly.
Garcia scoffed and flipped him the bird before swaggering off down the hallway.
"Kid, I swear this is all normal," Darin said.
He put a hand tentatively to his knee. Jax flinched a little but looked up at him.
"Really?" he asked, bringing his eyes up to meet Darin's.
Darin held his gaze. It was normal, although Darin had gone through it as a much younger wolf. Transformation had happened to him at four, a little early but he still remembered trying to get used to the feeling of heaviness in your stomach, the exhaustion the next day that made it impossible to move even if you had to pee. He couldn't imagine what it would have been like if his first kills as a wolf had been zombie flesh. Even as a full-grown werewolf, it turned his stomach.
"Yeah Jax, I promise you," Darin said with a small smile.
"I knew I had to pee. I tried to get up and get to the bucket," Jax said, with a shake of his head. "Even when I was...when I threw up again, I just couldn't move."
Darin put a hand to his shoulder.
"Yeah, I know," Darin said. "It gets easier, OK? I mean the undead flesh is always going to...not be right. I even feel like throwing up after that. But the exhaustion, the being able to get up when you need to, that gets easier."
Jax finally looked away and nodded.
"Will we get to change? Clean up?" Jax asked. "Do these come off? It hurts."
Jax tried to tuck his fingers between the collar and his neck, pinching the skin there with a wince. Darin shook his head slowly, studying the bites along his arms. They were beginning to heal, thanks to the kid's new werewolf blood, but still Darin told himself what a piece of shit he was.
"The collars never come off. But we do get to wash up, it's cold. But it's the only washing we get, so try to make the best of it," Darin said. "I'll ask for a new mattress for you, but they might say no."
"OK," Jax said his voice going hard.
Darin watched the kid fight down the hard look on his face, the simmering anger that was gathering behind his tired eyes, that slight hint of yellow.
