Thank you mordbrand and MarieFlower again for editing this chapter. I hope everyone enjoys Chapter 3.
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Flint woke up to the rumble of an engine. He was sore, a combination of his most recent episode and the fight he had lost with momentum. It was dark, so still night out. He hoped he hadn't been out that long.
There was someone talking up front. "...doesn't matter right now. She ran and we don't have the resources to track her down. Knowing them, it's probably gone already... I told you, I don't know what is coming, that's why I need to leave... I can't drag you guys into this! You can sell the van to a shop and-... I'll buy a bus ticket and get out of town. I can't risk staying; It will put you guys in too much danger... No! No, no, no, that is NOT happening. You are staying-... Fucking hell Jarod put Ben on the phone!... Then put me on speaker... Ben, you ass I know you can hear me! I am not letting you destroy everything we have built- what is he saying?... Oh my fucking!- I'll deal with him when I get there. I'm still a few hours away-"
Flint groaned in pain when they went over a bump while he was trying to lift himself up onto his knees.
"What the hell?!" The van swerved to the right, coming to an abrupt stop. "Someone's in here. I'll call you back." A phone snapped shut. Flint could hear the front door open and loud steps coming his way. Still confused as to what was going on he scooted as far as he could to the back corner. The loading door opened and the above car light turning on and blinding Flint. He closed his eyes and whimpered like a pup. It was so bright after being in the dark.
"Flint?! What the fuck are you doing here? God dammit kid you have a nasty habit of being where you are not supposed to be. I almost blew your head off, you dumb ass!"
Flint opened his eyes, adjusting. At the door was Dominic, gun in hand, pointed at him for a second time. The night's events after being put in the van came into focus, and it began to make sense. Dominic must have gotten out and stolen the van, not realizing he was inside. 'Dagwood's probably worried.' The thought floated in and right back out Flint's head.
"You know, I'm going to have to point that at you to make us even again." Flint's voice was heavy with pain. He really wasn't feeling good.
Dominic laughed non-comically. "I'll have to make sure you don't get the chance." He looked Flint over. "What are you doing in here? You don't look good."
He snorted. "Yeah well your driving didn't help. I was in here waiting out an, uh, episode, when some alarms went off. Dagwood left me in here to rest while he went to go check on my family." Lifting into a sitting position was difficult, but he managed. "What happened? How did you get out? You were supposed to be sedated, Doc Rivers said you would be out for hours."
Dominic lowered the gun, most likely coming to the conclusion Flint wasn't a threat right now. "I have a high tolerance for anything drug related, and insomnia, so I woke up sooner than you probably planned. It wasn't hard to disable the guards on my door, your security sucks. The lighter I snagged was a good distraction. You probably got banged up when I busted through the gate."
Flint was confused. "Gate? The security gate?" Dominic nodded. "But, wait, how did you get past the guards? They should have heard you long before you were on them." His guard had been Thetas, Aspen and Haven.
"I'm light on my feet and I picked the cabinet and got a hold of some tranquilizers. Knocked him out cold with it."
Flint's eyes went wide. "So... You attacked your guards, set off the fire alarm, stole a van, inadvertently kidnapped me, and destroyed part of the Pine Glen pack's property?"
"Don't know who Pine Glen is, but if that was his gate then yeah I destroyed it." Dominic suddenly swayed. "Whoa."
"You OK?" Flint took his first good look at Dominic. "Oh Luna, you're bleeding!"
Dominic's entire right shoulder of his white shirt was stained red.
"I'm fine, it's just a graze."
"They shot at you?!"
'That must have been the popping sounds. No way Five Rivers shot at us, knowing who Dominic is and that I was in here. That means Pine Glen did it! Holy shit if the treaty wasn't in jeopardy before, it is now.' Flint leaned forward and got to his knees, slightly panicked. Dominic raised the gun again.
"Oh please, do I look like I can take you right now? Just give me a second." He crawled out of the van, Dominic backing up so he couldn't reach the gun, and once stable on his feet lifted the carpet and located the little metal loop underneath. Pulling up, a panel came loose and lifted to the side. Inside was a compartment that held an assortment of clothes, jugs of emergency silver antidote, and medical supplies.
Locating what he wanted, Flint lifted a first aid kit and replaced the panel, placing the hard covered pack on the top of the cover and unzipping the case. Inside was a bounty of bandages, antiseptic, gauze, scalpels, scissors, tweezers, and small bottles of the clear liquid that helped a werewolf fight off the effects of silver. Anything and everything that someone would need if ambushed. They had been in a war after all.
"OK, now can you put the gun down long enough for me to dress your wound?"
*
Dominic considered his proposal. Flint was obviously not in that great of shape. His knees shook and his face was pale. That, coupled with the fact Dom had lost quite a bit of blood decided him. "Alright." He didn't even have enough fight in him at the moment to not practically fall onto the van's floor to let Flint help him.
Flint looked a bit surprised by how easy it was to convince him, but started to work anyway. With Dom sitting in the door jam, he took up a pair of scissors and removed the ruined shirt, then carefully inspected the wound. It was just a graze, thankfully, but it was deep and would get infected if not treated properly.
They sat in silence, working together to get the wound clean. Dominic was having a difficult time keeping from flinching away from the probing and swabbing so he sought out something to preoccupy him.
"What are these bottles for?" He lifted one and read the label.
"Silver antidote?"
"For if one of us gets hurt with silver. It's the only thing that can stop a reaction from killing us too quickly before we can get it out."
"Reaction to silver? Is your family allergic or something?" Were they some sort of high class family that felt so threatened in their every day lives that they needed to have copious amounts of their antidote at all times? Oh woe the price of being rich.
Flint paused in wrapping the long strip of bandage around Dominic's shoulder. "My father didn't tell you?"
Dominic looked at him sideways, becoming suspicious again.
"Tell me what?"
"Oh well, uh,-" Dominic lifted the gun again as a warning.