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1.
Louis flinches at the sudden, stabbing sting in his right leg. Well, what was left of it at least.
It was, to the deer’s never-ending exasperation, a common feeling nowadays. The sudden pangs, jolts, and throbs used to surprise him a year ago, but they happened so often nowadays that Louis was almost worried when he didn’t feel them.
After all, nothing short of a full body cast could keep Legosi from protecting the city.
At least the pain told him the wolf was alive.
Louis sighs and tries to rub away the impending headache. Though normal and expected, there were days where he desperately wished Legosi would give the vigilantism a break. Especially on nights like tonight.
One of Horns’s associates is hosting a charity gala, one Louis is obligated to attend based on business etiquette.
The ballroom that made for the venue is enormous. The entire ceiling is a skylight, the darkness of the night sky highlights the garish chandeliers and antique coral shade of the marble flooring. The pleasant rumble of conversation amongst the guest almost drowns out the lithe violin and piano music that echoes gently across the high ceiling. Louis has fit himself in a burgundy suit for the event, perfectly tailored with not a strand of thread out of place.
It was the kind of high society Louis has been surrounded by since Oguma first bought him. Upper crust, white collar, the whole posh ensemble.
The Louis who started high school at Cherryton would feel right at home in this kind of place.
The post-turf war Louis preferers the gritty alleyways and bloodied t-shirts Legosi is likely keeping company with right now.
He heaves a long sigh.
“Gracious, Louis, tired already? It’s barely even eleven,” A finely dressed zebra, a higher up from Ungulates Inc. (Shit what was his name? Bernard? Brett?) raises his brow at the deer’s newfound lackluster expression.
“Just a long day,” Louis says with a well-practiced smirk.
His leg twinges again.
Louis hides his grimace behind his champagne flute. Whatever the wolf was up to, Louis wishes he was a part of it. Would make a much nicer evening than making small talk with these stiff business types.
Sanctimonious bastards, Free once called them. He plays off his huff of amusement as another sigh.
“Of course, after that press conference this morning, I’m sure you’re exhausted. But oh, do you have a way with words, Louis! It was so inspiring,” a giraffe next to him says. Her platitude is so artificially saccharine, it makes Louis want to drown a glass of dry wine just so he can taste something bitter instead.
Rex, he hopes he was never as superficial and self-righteous as the animals who are pulling him aside for small talk tonight. Playing to the feelings of others to up their own reputation.
He subconsciously berates himself. What is he thinking, of course he was.
Another sharp pinch flares up the back of his knee. He barely holds back the instinctual reaction to kick backwards towards an invisible threat.
What was Legosi doing? Who did he pick a fight with this time? Did he start up a new case and forget to tell Louis about it? The deer almost frowns at that thought. He always tells Louis about them.
He lightly taps his prostatic heel against the marble ballroom floor, partially to get his mind back on task and partially to dissipate the lingering tingles.
Louis remembers waking up in the hospital for the first time after that fateful fight on New Year’s Eve. He remembers the feeling of stitches scratching against his torn skin, the stiffness of the hospital bed sheets, the doctor oh-so delicately telling him he’d lost his leg in a predation incident. As if something as trivial as pain, hemorrhage, or morphine would be enough to make him forget.
Nothing could make him forget. His pleas, Legosi’s resolute acceptance, the feel of teeth snapping his tibia in half with ease. They’re seared into his memory, into his soul. Louis wouldn’t want to forget that moment even if he could.
He remembers the doctor’s eyes, the pity in them, as if Louis hadn’t just broken off the heaviest of shackles, the amalgam of his shame and malice.
It’s funny how quickly iron chairs turn to porcelain in the wake of losing someone so ingrained in your freedom.
He remembers the doctor going over what to expect. Prosthetics. Physical therapy.
Phantom pain.
He has yet to feel the ghostly sensation of his foot against the cool floor, nor has he relived the feeling of teeth spearing his flesh. He’s almost disappointed, some depraved part of his mind thinks, that he hasn’t felt that particular sensation again.
Teeth sliding against his skin, parting it like the gap in a stage curtain, revealing a set decorated by muscle and sinew. His ligaments were the props, his nerve endings the dancers to their primordial pantomime.
It was like the moment between breath and dying. An impermanent transcendence. Sublimity.
He’s drawn from his reminiscence by a round of applause as the president of Greener Pastures Bureau calls for the attention of the ballroom, thanking the crowd and starting his address.
With attention off him, Louis takes the moment to detach himself from the group and heads to the open doors of the ballroom’s wide balcony.
He steps outside and the night air is cool against his skin, refreshing after leaving the stuffy ballroom.
Leaning against the banister, Louis takes out a metal case from his jacket pocket. Flicking it open he takes a cigarette and casually holds it out to the side of him.
The shick shick, flash of a lighter flaring is like a lullaby.
“You lasted longer than we expected, Boss,” Hino says, as he lights Louis’s vice. Louis doesn’t flinch at his sudden appearance. Since he busted the gang out of jail, the Shishigumi are always exactly where he needs them to be.
He hums, handing Hino a cigarette as well in thanks.
Louis inhales, the nicotine filtering out the leftover perfumed musk of the party out of his lungs.
Free appears at his other side, groaning as he yawns, “Can’t we have a drink too, Boss? This shit’s boring as hell.”
“If I have to suffer through it, then you do as well.” Louis snips back in jest.
“At least some of the broads are nice to look at,”
“Like they’d ever go for your pompadoured ass,” Hino says.
“Oi, shut it, pretty boy,” Free gripes back.
The both of them throw rude hand gestures over Louis’s head.
“Quit it before we get thrown out,” Louis admonishes half-heartedly.
Free cackles, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you Boss? I mean, I know I’d rather be in a gunfight than sit here for another half hour.”
Speaking of gunfights, Louis thinks. His leg isn’t hurting much anymore. Now might be a good enough time to check in.
He flips out his smartphone and dials a well-memorized number.
Louis can’t quite hold back the small smile that appears as familiar voice flows through the speakers.
“Louis!” Legosi answers, his breath is fast in the receiver, like he’d just run a marathon.
“Hey to you too.”
“How’s your evening? You’re at that charity party, right?” Legosi asks with genuine interest.
“Yes, and boring,” he leans back against the banister, shooing away Free as he leans into eavesdrop on the conversation, “How about you? Are you getting into trouble again?”
Legosi gives a sheepish laugh, “Maybe…how did you know?”
“Felt it.”
The burst of guilt that comes from Legosi is almost palpable, “Oh, Rex, I’m so sorry Louis. Shit, I- “
“It’s fine, Legosi.” He stares out into the blinking galaxy of the city lights, “Makes me feel like I’m out there too.”
He smirks at the pout Legosi is likely sprouting, despite Louis’s reassurances.
“Are you okay? You’re the one with the actual wounds, after all,” Louis inquires.
“Just a few scrapes. It’s nothing.”
Louis believes him. He knows the sound of hidden pain in the wolf’s voice, and it’s thankfully absent this time around.
“You know,” Legosi ventures, “Case isn’t closed yet."
“Oh?” Louis exhales smoke into the night air.
“I tracked down their base. An old office building downtown.”
“That so?” Louis smiles, keeping his answer tauntingly out of reach, knowing what’s coming next.
“Come with me?”
Louis hums in faux contemplation.
He can almost hear Legosi’s tail wagging across the line.
Louis smirks.
“Just say where.”
2.
Louis's leg aches.
It has been all day. A constant, humming ache reminiscent of a migraine. In fact, it’s giving him one too.
He presses the heels of his hands against his eyes until color bursts across his vision.
It’s a very rare off day for him. Well…his off days are more like “administration from home” days, but the point is he can do his work in his penthouse’s office rather than the top floor of the Horns Conglomerate skyscraper.
He’s pouring himself another cup of coffee when his cell buzzes.
The name ‘Haru’ blinks across the screen, and Louis smiles as he answers.
“Haven’t heard from you in a while, Cottontail- “
“Louis I need help!”
Louis smile instantly falls, and the full coffee mug almost gets knocked to the floor as he straightens.
Instinct has him running to the living room and shoving a revolver into his waistband. He goes to the door, toeing on his shoes, preparing to shout for his lions playing poker down the hallway in the guest room.
“What? What’s happening? Where are you? Who—"
“Legosi is too big!”
Louis freezes, brain bluescreening.
“…what?”
“He’s so stupid! He’s on the floor in the bathroom and I need to go to the pharmacy, but I can’t judt leave him there! I need to get him on the bed, but he’s like five times my size and I any other time I wouldn’t be complaining about that, but my parents are out of town and promised them I would pick up my sister from school, but—”
She continues rambling, and while the blind panic has faded, there’s still a twinge of worry siting in Louis’s gut. It melds with the ache in his leg.
“Whoa, whoa, Haru, just slow down for a moment. What is going on?”
He hears a long-suffering groan across the phone line, “Legosi’s sick. Like throwing up every hour, fever type of sick. I came by to take care of him, but Emiko’s class ends in twenty minutes, and I can’t let her walk home alone. Can you please come sit with Legosi?”
A completely different type of panic flares up in Louis at the request, “What? Me? Haru what can I do? I’m…I don’t know how…”
“It’s just for a couple for hours, Louis, I promise. You’ll be fine. All you have to do is just sit next to him. I’m going to grab some medicine for him on my way back. He’s just…I can’t just leave him by himself, he looks like a soft breeze could blow him over.”
Soft mumbling comes from the other side of the phone line, and Haru pauses to direct a “No, you’re not okay” to someone in the background.
Haru sighs, and she’s once more addressing Louis when she says, “Louis, please come take care of this self-sacrificing idiot.”
And, although the trepidation of unknown territory sits like a whirlpool in his stomach, he equally doesn’t like the idea of leaving Legosi sick and alone.
Even if Louis is the least qualified person to do it.
“I, uh…okay?”
“Rex, thank you Louis!”
An hour later, Louis is watching helplessly as Legosi empties his guts into a toilet.
The wolf is just retching bile and water now. There’s nothing left in his stomach, and Louis awkwardly pats a hand against Legosi’s back as he rides through the waves of nausea.
Louis is insanely out of his depth here.
The heaving stops, and Louis just stares with an ever increasing uneasiness while Legosi tries to gain his breath back. He looks small, shivering against the linoleum floor despite the entire apartment complex’s air conditioning being out.
There’s a wrenching in his gut that has nothing to do with his leg at this point. Louis thought he’d seen Legosi at his lowest, at his weakest, which in comparison to most animals was still immensely strong. Legosi is dumb and impulsive, but he’s always steady as a lighthouse in a storm. Unshakable.
Seeing him shiver, barely able to sit up straight on the tiled floor?
It scares Louis.
He hovers over Legosi’s hunched form, shifting from foot to foot.
“Is…is that it? I mean, do you think you’ll need to…”
“I feel okay,” Legosi mutters, blinking slowly against the florescent lights of the bathroom.
Yeah, okay, that’s complete bullshit.
Legosi’s eyes are glassy, and his words incoherently meld into each other as Louis cleans him up. With no small effort on Louis’s part, he’s eventually able to help Legosi walk back to the wolf’s room, almost falling twice in the process.
He’s able to get Legosi into bed without full-on dropping him, so he calls it a mild success.
Somehow, it’s instinct to set a glass of water on the floor near Legosi’s head and gather two more blankets to pile on him. He places a large bowl at the side of Legosi’s bed, just in case the nausea returns.
He has the mind to recheck Legosi’s temperature and, fuck, a hundred and four degrees is high for a canine, right? Does he need to call an ambulance? Maybe he should just wait for Haru to get back with the medicine?
One link on Zoozle tells him to keep him warm and another says to cool him down. He compromises by switching between placing a cold washcloth on Legois’s forehead and placing even more blankets over his shivering form.
His hands flutter over the wolf’s form, fluffing the pillows, tugging at the edges of the blankets, fidgeting for something to do. Anything.
And then…he’s at a loss.
He tries to remember when he was sick as a fawn. Tries to remember what the maids…
No, wait, thinking back it was always Oguma who took care of him when he was sick.
The realization is enough to make him pause from tucking in the covers around Legosi for a third time. He remembers the older stag awkwardly sitting at his bedside, holding soup, and reading the fine print of the medication bottles before shoving them both in Louis’s face.
He tried to read a book to Louis once but relayed the entire story in a droning monotone that never failed to bore Louis to sleep. He has to chuckle at the memory.
The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People is hardly an attention keeper for a ten-year-old child.
“W’as funny?” Legosi mumbles into the pillow.
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it,” he absently smooths down the fur between Legosi’s ears as he removes the cloth on his forehead to re-wet it.
Legosi lets out a small pout in protest at being left out of the loop. If he wasn’t sick enough for Louis to worry about dehydration, he would actually think it cute.
“Laughin’ at me?” he grumbles into the pillow.
Louis scoffs gently, “I wouldn’t laugh at you when you’re sick. I’m not that heartless.”
Legosi shuffles until one eye meets Louis’s.
“Not heartless,” he protests with eyes that hold some sadness past the feverish haze.
“Hm, many would disagree,” Louis retorts. It’s a long list, Louis knows. In fact, he’s on it himself.
Legosi shakes his head, fast enough that Louis is afraid he’ll get dizzy and throw up again.
“Stop, just go to sleep you mutt,” he puts his hands against Legosi’s head to hold him still.
“You’re taking care of me. Not heartless,” Legosi says with such faith that Louis almost believes him.
Like he’s the obvious choice, the one to call when shit like this happens.
Louis sighs and sits on the edge of the bed, feeling defeated. By a stomach bug. And not even his own.
Rex, it’s been a long time since he’s felt this useless.
“I’m sorry, I’m not great at the whole…taking care of people, thing,” he waves a hand in the air absently.
Legosi clumsily pulls an arm out form the cocoon of blankets Louis made and grabs onto Louis’s hand.
“No. You’re good,” Legosi says firmly through the delirium, shaking Louis’s hand light for emphasis. “You’re good.”
And even through the fever, the words are as genuine and honest as Legosi ever is.
Louis is hard pressed to fight against them.
He dramatically sighs.
“Fine, whatever, it’s annoying to argue with you,” he relents.
Legosi is somehow able to look smug underneath all the sweat and misery. Louis ruffles the fur on Legosi’s head and stands up.
“Think you can handle some soup?”
And as Legosi later takes a few bites of broth, it feels like someone has placed a warm compress against Louis’s leg.
By the time Haru gets back, the ache is no longer worrisome.
3
Plates smash against Louis’s tiled kitchen floor as the deer bites back a scream.
Having just enough sense to avoid the scattered shards, he falls onto the floor clutching his leg.
Shit, fuck that hurts. Fuck. Fuck, fuck-
Agonizing, intensive throbbing pain radiates up from his stump of a right leg, reminiscent of the night where it was taken off.
He’s squeezing the end of his leg with both hands, eyes clenched shut. It takes a long time for the pain to fade enough for the deer to loosen his grip. When he does, he feels nauseous, and his hands are shaking. There are leftover horrid throbs of pain in his leg, pulsing in tune with his heartbeat, but at least now he’s able to think clearly.
He looks at the clock on his wall, he doesn’t know how much time he’s spent in agony on the floor. Legosi was supposed to be at the deer’s apartment twenty minutes ago. That combined with the pain in his leg had worry swirling in Louis’s gut.
Shit, if it was this bad for him then…
Louis scrambles for his keys and wallet, the mess in his kitchen forgotten as he races out the door.
He jams the button to the elevator, frantically dialing Legosi’s phone number.
“Come on, come on,” he mutters at both inanimate objects.
The call goes to Legosi’s voicemail, and the cervid curses as the elevator doors open.
The ride down to the ground floor is long, and Louis rushes out as soon as the doors reveal the lobby. He is so preoccupied with trying to get in contact with his friend, that he doesn’t notice the large grey form until he runs into it.
Louis bounces off Legosi’s chest, ready to push him aside and burst through the building’s doors when he recognizes the wolf’s face.
His expression is pinched, vulnerable in a way Legois doesn’t typically show when he’s in pain.
“What happened?” he demands, hands flurrying over the wolf’s form, looking for injuries.
“Wrist,” the wolf grits out, his voice steady but body trembling.
Louis looks where he’s cradling his left arm against his chest and oh, shit, that definitely looks swollen.
“Okay, okay, come one,” he gently nudges the canine towards the elevator. He should probably take Legosi to the hospital, and he will, but his friend looks skittish and scared, an expression Louis isn’t used to seeing on the large animal.
Some primal part of him wants Legosi in his den, safe and comfortable, before he has to go to a world of white tiles and sterility.
Louis can feel tremors run own Legosi’s spine under his hand.
They reach his floor and step into his penthouse quickly. Louis herds them straight to the kitchen, sitting Legosi down on a barstool at the island counter swiftly.
“Let me see,” he urges.
Legosi seems reluctant to bring his arm out from where it is cradled against his chest but relents when Louis gently pries it away.
The wolf grits his teeth, and Louis in turn feels a new wave of pain ricochet up his leg. Louis grits his teeth too.
It’s impossible to avoid it, despite Louis being as gentle as he possibly can while examining. There’s a heat to the area that is different from Legois’s normal warmth. The skin underneath his fur is starting to turn a dark red. He doesn’t know much about anatomy, but he’s pretty sure that his wrist shouldn’t have that kind of angle to it.
“What happened?” he demands.
Legosi goes rigid, and he suddenly is very interested in looking over Louis’s shoulder instead of meeting his gaze.
“Got in a fight,” he states, though it comes out more like a question.
It makes Louis pause in his inspection. Legosi never, never shies away from talking about any altercations he gets into.
“Legosi,” Louis asks again, voice stern, “What happened?”
Usually, the wolf would bow to the tone Louis is using. Like Louis was a pack leader, a predator who can easily overpower him.
Legosi’s brown furrow, and there’s a hardness when he turns to hold Louis’s gaze.
“I got in a fight,” he says firmly back.
Louis narrows his eyes in suspicion.
His thumb accidentally applies too much pressure in scrutiny of the swelling at the base of Legosi’s palm, and the wolf flinches against his touch.
Louis’s leg screams.
Four hours later, and the x-rays show that Legosi’s wrist is dislocated, though thankfully not broken. This knowledge provides some relief, but not enough for Louis to drop the subject.
“Where’d it happen?” he demands as they sit in the waiting room.
“On the way to your place,” Legosi retorts.
“Who was it?” Louis prods when the doctor leaves the room look at the x-rays.
“Just some guy,” Legosi dodges.
In Legosi speak, it’s basically the same as giving Louis the cold shoulder.
And Louis is disconcerted at how utterly unwilling Legosi is to give him any answers.
Legois’s arm is placed in a cast, and before Louis knows it, Legosi calls himself a cab.
Louis is left alone. With no answers.
And what does Louis do when he has no answers?
He finds them himself.
What he finds is enraging.
It’s midnight and Louis is on his third glass of wine. He has spent hours poring over police reports, gossip forums, anything to find a breadcrumb of the trail that will lead Louis to an explanation of what happened.
It’s a last-ditch effort that makes him investigate the establishments that Legosi usually passes by on his route to Louis’s place. It’s also the one piece of evidence he needs to understand the entire situation.
There’s a security camera in front of a high-end nightclub a few blocks away from Louis’s penthouse. It's an invitation only, herbivore exclusive sort of premise. The footage itself is good quality, though silent.
On the footage, the neon lights that glimmer in the leftover puddles created from the morning’s rain shower. A bison is suddenly shoved out of the club’s doors, the rhinoceros bouncer shouting something unintelligible at the other man before the door is slammed shut again.
The bison stumbles to his feet, and there’s something about the herbivore’s face that looks distinctly familiar to Louis, though he can’t place why.
The bison slams his fist against the now locked doors before stumbling drunkenly onto the sidewalk. He stops, hand against the alley wall for balance, as he retches up a large amount of alcohol.
And that’s when Legosi appears.
His posture is normal, no signs of injury anywhere, in fact, there’s almost a skip to his step as he strolls down the sidewalk. He stops when he sees the bison and, being the amazingly kindhearted idiot he is, goes to crouch next to the stranger.
Now it doesn’t take a genius to interpret canine body language. Anyone past a third-grade biology class can tell that the wolf’s form is unabashedly emitting friendly signs. Ears angled back, talk wagging lazily behind him, form lower to the ground so he’s looking up at the herbivore versus the other way around.
It doesn’t stop the bison from wrapping a hand around Legosi’s neck and slamming him into the grimy, brick walls of the alley.
Bison are not fragile herbivores. They’re frighteningly strong. Even the most depraved, meat addicted carnivores are too afraid to go after them.
There are few things more dangerous than a strong herbivore with no self-control.
Legois’s hands are up, nonthreateningly, and Louis can see him trying to placate the herbivore.
With no preamble, the bison grabs his outstretched hand and twists.
Louis slams his laptop closed before the rest of the footage plays out.
He sits at his desk in the dark, breath heaving.
Infuriated.
Fists clenched and trembling against his thighs, he lets the anger sear his flesh. Lets it meld with the lingering near constant presence of raw, convulsing waves of agony that bound down his leg.
The look on Legosi’s face. The startle, the hurt that flashed across it as his trust had been broken, as that animal had so brazenly betrayed his kindness.
Louis yells as he hurls his wine glass onto the floor. The symphony of shattering glass does little to calm his rage. The wine seeps into the white rug, bleeding, bleeding.
And the worst part?
Louis got a clear view of fucker’s face as he wrenched Legosi’s wrist out of place.
He knows this man.
~~~
“You wanted to see me, Sir?”
Louis looks up from his desk.
The man’s name is Silas, a beacon of decorum in Horns Conglomerate. He was a part of a large project that helped the company make millions a few years back. He’s respected by many in the building, especially by many in one of the company’s higher committees that even Louis is a part of, one that makes decisions for the company as a whole.
He looks more put together than he was on the security footage. His suit is crisp, not a wrinkle out of place. His fur immaculate, his expression friendly.
It's all a well-practiced farce.
Louis always saw him as a little power-hungry, and he's caught one too many glances of him sneering Louis’s way after he publicly declared his defense of carnivores.
A bit of digging (and shakedowns from the Shishigumi) revealed evidence that he is involved with quite a few prominent anti-carnivore groups. Ones that hold on to old, horrid beliefs of adding in immoral methods to keep carnivores from going feral killing herbivores.
Things like shock collars, muzzles, and defanging.
He’s even pretty sure he’s even found evidence that the man owns shoes made of actual snake-skin.
Louis has been looking for a strong enough excuse to have him leave the company for a while.
The fact that this is the reason makes Louis wish he had done it sooner.
“You’re serious? You’re firing me because I inconvenienced a carnivore?” Silas asks, disbelief flying across his features after Louis explains the situation.
“You didn’t inconvenience him, you hurt him. As you can imagine, this kind of scandal would hurt our company. I don’t want to be associated with such things.”
“Oh, who gives a fuck? So I roughed the guy up a bit, so what? If anything, I was protecting myself! He probably deserved it anyway, who knows who the fucker’s taken a bite out of-“
Louis hands slam against the desk and stands up so fast that his chair falls to the floor with a deafening clatter.
“If you wish to keep any semblance of a reputation within this city, then I suggest you shut your fucking mouth. Right now.”
Silas has the gall to look offended, “You…I’ve served this company for years! How dare – “
“How dare I? How dare you!” His fingers twitch to reach for the gun he keeps in the drawer of his desk. An image of a bullet splitting the bison’s skull flashes through is mind.
He wants to, dear god he wants to.
Instead, he makes himself walk around his desk to loom over the other animal.
“To be honest, I couldn’t give less of a shit what you’ve done for this company. You injured an innocent person. And I don’t employ herbivores with egos so fragile that they need to hurt a carnivore for simply standing next to them.”
“You-!”
Louis snaps his fingers, and Free and Miguel appear, grabbing the bison by his arms. They look almost as furious as Louis feels.
“Get your hands off me!”
“Shut up,” Louis snaps, “Now, if you want any company within a three-hundred-mile radius to even let you stand in front of their doors, you will leave my building without complaint. And if I ever see you near here or near him again, I’ll make sure the world knows exactly what kind of animal you are.”
Silas stops struggling as understanding seems to wash over him. His expression turns dark, “Should’ve known you were friends with that shithead. What, he too much of a coward to confront me himself? You’d better watch your back kid! I’ll have your ‘friend’ turned into a throw rug to wipe my boots off on.”
Louis waves a hand, and the man is still spouting threats as the Shishigumi forcefully escort him out of the room.
In the blaring silence of his office, Louis lets his rage seethe and spasm under his skin.
He stalks over to his desk, rips his gun out of the drawer, and fires six rounds into the wall.
It’s an empty threat, Louis knows.
But the fact is, the man still made it.
The couple of days later, evidence of Silas’s elicit activities and associations are anonymously leaked to one of the most reputable news sources in the city.
Louis drowns a glass of brandy as he watches the news the next night. The image of the other man being led out of his house in handcuffs. Turns out Louis was right about the shoes. Such crimes can get most animals life in prison.
Both the pain in his leg and the anger in his soul feel a little lighter at the sight.
4
The next time he feels Legosi’s pain, it’s strange.
It’s seven in the morning, he’s pacing across one of his spacious meeting rooms spouting off about investors and recent sales to his sleepy-eyed business partners. The sunrise beaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows blinds him, and he smothers down the urge to shield his eyes with his hands as he turns on his heel to continue his trek across the wide room.
“And for the umpteenth time, Mr. Brandt, follow the agenda I laid out for you. If I see you trying to improvise your way through another conference, I will-”
There’s no buildup, no warning, when a throbbing pain flares in his leg. Louis gasps and falls heavily to his knees. Some of the animals seated at the meeting table leap from their chairs to help him, but Louis is focusing on recovering from the sudden, intrusive sensation in his leg. Louis feels nauseous and clammy.
This is not a flesh wound pain. Nor is it a dislocated wrist type of pain.
It’s different. Worryingly different. It’s a deep, bone-throbbing ache, pulsing with his heartbeat, reminiscent of when the wolf had been sick but this time it’s so much more. It radiates up to his chest, constricting his lungs, stalling his breath with its intensity. Louis feels the sudden urge to cry.
A hand lands on his shoulder and, blinking back into the moment, he waves off the animals fretting over him.
The other herbivores clamber away as Agata comes to his side and lets Louis use his shoulder to steady himself.
“I’m fine, I’m fine. I just stumbled,” he brings himself to his feet and straightens his suit.
“Please excuse me for a moment, gentlemen,” Louis says without a glance at the others.
One employee, an older goat, folds his arms in disgruntlement, “This meeting is of utmost importance, Sir, can it not wait?”
Louis unceremoniously pulls up his right pants leg and taps the end of his prosthetic against the carpeted floor, “It appears my leg needs readjusting. But if you’d prefer, I can handle it here.”
The other herbivores quickly avert their eyes, and the goat stutters out a quick apology. Louis rolls his eyes as he exits the room, Agata trailing close behind him. He usually hates looking weak in front of his employees, but mentioning his leg is always a sure-fire way to cow his less than compliant employees.
In his office, he pulls up an app on his phone that shows the location of Legosi’s phone (“It’s for emergencies. No, I don’t trust you to tell me when you’re dying on the side of the street, Legosi!)” expecting to see the wolf moving within the sketchier parts of the city.
But when the app triangulates Legosi’s position, Louis is surprised to see he’s at home.
Louis frowns. He exits out of the program and reopens it. Sure enough, the little blinking dot sits at the street corner the Hidden Condo is nestled in.
Maybe he forgot his phone?
Louis dials Legosi’s cell, able to recite the number by heart now. He paces as he waits out the ring tone, surely Legosi left his phone, there’s no way he would be in this much pain just sitting at his –
“Hey Louis, what’s up?”
The deer perks up, “I…Legosi?”
“Yeah?” Louis can hear the mirrored confusion in the wolf’s voice across the line.
“Where are you right now?”
“I’m at the Condo. I just woke up. Why? Is something wrong?” the wolf’s voice is more subdued than usual, which births some suspicion in Louis.
“No, no. Is your wrist hurting?” It had been a couple of months since the dislocation, but the wolf is still wearing a brace if Louis remembers correctly.
“No? Feels pretty good actually. Why do you ask?”
Louis switches the phone to speaker as he starts pacing his office, “My leg started hurting. Did you go out last night? Did you get hurt? If you did, I need you to tell me.”
There’s a beat of silence across the line, a little longer than Legosi’s normal silences usually are, and Louis feels his anxiety rise.
“No, no. I’m fine, Louis,” Legosi’s voice sounds tired, he notes. But, then again, Legosi has never really been a morning person.
“I just...stubbed my toe this morning, that’s all.”
Okay, now that’s a load of bullshit.
“Legosi -” Louis warns.
“I have to go Louis. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”
Louis gapes as the wolf hangs up on him.
He turns to Agata, who’s standing guard at the door, gaze disbelieving.
“Did you hear that?”
Agata nods, looking just as confused as Louis feels, “He’s a shit liar, we all know that, right Boss?”
Louis nods absently. ‘Stubbed his toe’ he thinks, shaking his head. The pain that flared to life in the conference room was not something that benign, no. Even now he feels it, waves of throbbing pain echoing up the length of his leg, matching with his heartbeat.
Something is wrong, very wrong. Why won’t Legosi tell him about it? He thought…well after the whole debacle with Silas, he thought Legosi trusted him enough to come to him when he was hurt, even if he didn’t tell Louis the reason for it.
Did he do something wrong? Act too rashly? He’s pretty sure Legosi hasn’t heard about how Louis confronted the bison, otherwise he’s sure the wolf would be badgering him about how “it was an accident, you didn’t have to fire him, Louis!”.
Ugh, he knows this dumbass too well.
Which means he knows that Legosi only hides his pain when it’s serious or when he’s protecting someone from Louis’s wrath.
Louis’s shoulders tense, his fist clenches around his phone.
Well, if Legosi won’t tell him what’s going on, then he’ll find out for himself.
Later in the day, he’s sitting in the back of a nondescript black car, eyes glued to the tracking app on his phone.
“Take a left,” he guides.
Agata, who seems to be as invested in this investigation as Louis is, follows the order.
Legosi left his apartment about an hour ago. The movement of the dot on the app tells Louis that he’s walking somewhere, but he’s not heading anywhere near his usual haunts.
“Boss, there!” Agata perks up and points ahead of them.
Louis leans forward between the diver and passenger seat to get a better view.
Sur enough, the wolf is there, strolling along the sidewalk, gaze far away like he’s not paying attention to where he’s going. His normal, stoic expression holds no evidence of hidden pain.
Hmm…there’s no limp. His wrist is in the brace, but it’s lazily swinging at his side as he walks like normal.
For all intents and purposes, Legosi actually looks okay.
Louis frowns.
He really shouldn’t be essentially stalking Legosi like this. He’s seen the wolf, has confirmed that he’s not injured. He should make Agata drive him back to his office where he should be answering emails and going over the papers his accountants sent him…
The continuous, pulsating hurt in Louis’s leg convinces him otherwise.
A couple of blocks down, Legosi pauses in front of a flower shop, sees something that has him lowering his ears, and Louis feels a harsher flare of deep pain in his leg.
The wolf enters the store.
Louis leans forward more, seeing Agata do the same out of the corner of his eye.
A few minutes later, Legosi exits the shop with a small bouquet of flowers. Louis can make out yellow dandelions, pink zinnias, and orchids among the green stems and leaves.
Was Legosi meeting someone? Going on a date? The idea of the latter causes a sharp ache in Louis’s chest, and he doesn’t know why.
But no, if Legosi was meeting up with some girl, Louis’s leg wouldn’t be hurting, right?
Legosi continues the way he originally was walking, and Louis pats at Agata’s shoulder, urging silently for him to keep following.
He turns, crosses the street, turns again until he reaches a gated off park. They park the car across the street as he disappears down the park’s winding path.
“Stay here,” Louis leaps out of the car before Agata can protest.
Legosi is out of sight, deep down into the park, but there’s only one walkway for pedestrians to take, so it doesn’t take long for Louis to catch up.
In the distance, he sees the wisp of a grey tail disappear behind a hedge wall.
Louis jogs to catch up and finds himself at the entrance up to a…
A cemetery.
Louis skids to a stop, loitering uneasily in front of the looming, ornate iron sign guarding the entrance.
The world suddenly becomes a lot quieter.
Louis, with no small amount of trepidation, steps into the graveyard.
It’s actually a beautiful place. Large oak trees stretch out over the area, the sounds of the city are buffered by the neighboring areas of the park, a soft breeze brings the smell of fresh flowers through the air.
Louis walks down the gravel pathway that weaves between the graves, quietly taking in the sights when he finds him.
Legosi is sitting in the grass, staring at a headstone.
“Hey mom,” the wolf mutters into the wind.
And oh.
Oh.
Louis’s heart sinks.
Legosi never mentioned his family to Louis besides Gosha and that was only because he met the older man at the end of the Melon fiasco.
He never thought to ask Legosi about his mother or father.
He sees Legosi’s shoulders hitch. Louis lowers his ears and approaches.
Legosi doesn’t startle when Louis lays a hand gently on Legosi’s shoulder. He wonders how long Legosi knew he was there. Or maybe Louis is just that predictable.
Louis crouches next to him and starts rubbing his hand along Legosi’s spine. Legosi doesn’t acknowledge his presence but does lean back into Louis’s hand a little.
“It’s been, gosh, how many years? Eight? Doesn’t really feel like it, though, you know? I had Grandpa eat lunch with me before I came here. You know how he is when this day comes around. I had to make sure he was alright.”
The wolf mutters a one-sided conversation at the headstone. He talks about his job, his neighbors, his friends.
The headstone remains silent.
Louis notes the name (Leano) and the date of her death. Rex, Legosi had only been twelve.
Legosi lifts a hand and rubs at his eyes. Louis lifts his own and starts stroking the fur on the wolf’s head.
After a long moment of silence, Legosi mutters, “I should have come visited her more. This is the first time since the funeral that I actually…”
Legosi pins his ears to his head solemnly. Louis isn’t sure if the wolf was addressing him or just letting the regret out into the open air.
Louis is usually good with words, but the right ones escape him at this moment. He knows how it feels. Knows how no words can give the right comfort, answer the right questions.
They stay a bit longer. They clean the grave site together in silence, wiping away dirt and fallen leaves. Legosi places the bouquet of flowers against the stone. Only when Legosi nods at him does Louis take his hand and lead him back to where Agata is waiting in the car.
Louis brings Legosi back to his penthouse, sensing that the wolf doesn’t want to be alone for a while.
He makes Legosi a small, simple dinner (scrambled eggs, and Louis has to take a second to marvel at the fact that he now keeps eggs in his refrigerator). He frowns when Legosi just picks at it.
“What was your mother like?” he asks, breaking the silence that has stretched since they left the cemetery.
Legosi stops twirling the eggs around with his fork. He sighs and sets the utensil down, done pretending to be invested in the food.
“She liked old-school pop and jazz music. Frank Sinatra was her favorite. On her good days she’d play his songs in the kitchen while she cooked cinnamon rolls.”
Legosi gives a fond, bittersweet smile at the memory. “She loved musicals, ones with lots of dancing. She liked painting with watercolors and was obsessed with fashion magazines. Cheesy romance novels too,” he gives a small huff, “Guess that’s where I got my hopeless romanticism from.”
The fragile smile slips off Legosi’s face too easily. The wolf sits silently, staring at the wall while his mind runs miles away.
Louis reaches out and grabs one of the wolf’s strong, clawed hands in his own delicately small ones.
He eventually continues, his voice soft, “She was sad, and I think lonely. She cared too much what others thought of her. But she was also beautiful and kind and always made time for me. Even in the end.”
“She sounds lovely,” Louis admits.
Legosi smiles, even as his ears fold back against his head and his eyes glisten, “She was.”
They clean up the uneaten food and settle into Louis’s bed. He grabs the remote and brings up a list of musicals available on one of his streaming services.
Singing in the Rain appears, and when Legosi offhandedly notes it was his mother’s favorite, Louis doesn’t blink twice at the extra cost to permanently download it.
Mid movie finds Louis sitting up against his headboard with Legois’s head in his lap. Together they watch as Gene Kelly twirls an umbrella under a studio-made rainstorm. Louis strokes Legosi’s ears in tune with the song the grey fox onscreen is dancing to.
“I’m singing in the rain,
Just singing in the rain.
What a glorious feeling,
I’m happy again!”
Something drips on his thigh, and Louis looks down to see silent tears running down Legosi’s face.
Louis runs a gentle hand down the wolf’s muzzle, brushing the tears away.
His leg still hurts, but it’s lessened.
“I’m laughing at clouds,
So dark up above.”
It’s not a pain he expects to resolve. It’s not something Louis can fix with stitches, back-up gunfire, or soup. No, this pain is deeper and will never fully go away. The only thing Louis can do is try to ease the gentle wolf through it.
“Louis,” Legosi whispers, voice so very fragile in contrast to the cheerful scene playing out in front of them.
Louis hums along with the song, Legosi’s eyes don’t leave the screen.
“Thank you.”
“The sun’s in my heart,
And I’m ready for love.”
5.
Louis likes to think of himself as practical and thorough. He can handle any problem as long as he is prepared and has at least half a dozen plans ready. As long has he has his gun, his men, and his brain, he is ready for most situations.
This is not one of them.
“Move!” He yells and purposefully trips the wolf as he makes to run past him.
Legosi catches himself on his hands and knees, but thankfully stays the fuck down. Louis hits the deck just in time to avoid a crate crashing into this skull.
“You fucking dumbass, why did you pick a fight with a polar bear?” Louis snaps, firing off a few shots from their cover.
One of the bullets grazes the bear’s shoulder, and it merely roars in their direction.
“Goddamn idiot, wasn’t Riz enough? Do you want to die that badly!” Loui shouts.
He chokes as he’s roughly yanked back by his shirt collar. Legosi’s hand cradles the back of his head as he throws them across the warehouse, behind a dumpster as gunshots rain down on their previous spot. Louis just barely catches a glimpse of an ocelot aiming at them from the catwalk above.
A well-placed shot, and blood sprays from the ocelot’s head. Louis hears a triumphant “fuck yeah” from one of the Shishigumi nearby.
The bear sees their location, and charges at them.
Legosi pushes Louis behind him. Even though the dumpster is empty, it’s till impressive when Legosi kicks it into the bear, knocking it off its feet.
Legosi grabs Louis hand and speeds them to another spot for cover.
They’re behind more crates. Legosi peeks his head over to watch for imminent danger (who is he kidding, the whole building is imminent danger) while Louis reloads his pistol.
“Did you hear me? Are you out of your fucking mind you moronic-“
“They’re taking kids, Louis!” Legosi growls back.
Louis freezes, “What?”
“They’re shipping hybrid children across the sea and selling them,” and Legosi is baring his teeth, his hackles up, brandishing bloodied knuckles, looking like a creature of what would be the epitome of most herbivores’ nightmares.
To Louis, he looks ethereal. An archangel of vengeance.
Louis exhales sharply, “Shit.”
So that was what the ‘rare commodities’ on the gang’s trade documents had meant. Nobody blinks when a hybrid child goes missing. Nobody takes notice. Some don’t even care.
He thinks of a small grey wolf pup with sharp reptilian eyes. He thinks of that pup behind bars, imagines it feeling the same fear Louis had in his childhood.
Yeah, no way he’s falling back from this fight now.
He surveys the situation. They outnumber the gang members, but the bear alone has them outmatched. If they could just take him out then…
And there! Dangling above the center of the warehouse is a large crate held aloft by a metal chain.
And, if Louis looks close enough, he’s able to make out a worn, rusted section. If they could get the bear underneath…
He bats at Legosi’s shoulder to get his attention and points to the crate.
“I have an idea,” he says.
Legosi looks and, without any more explanation, Legosi knows.
They break off from each other, running to different ends of the warehouse.
Louis takes cover, peaking out to watch as Legosi goads and dances around the bear.
Louis takes shots at anybody aiming at the wolf and takes them down before Legosi even notices anyone else is targeting him.
It’s surprisingly easy progress, getting the bear to stand underneath the crate.
With the bear’s back to him, distracted by the biggest threat in the room, Louis leaves the safety of his cover.
He has to get close, too close for his liking, to get a clear shot. He’s aiming upward, out in the open, unprotected.
He lines up is shot.
His finger begins to press against the trigger.
“Louis!”
Louis hears the roar, sees the crate in his vision get replaced with an enormous wall of white terror.
There’s a moment, a fraction of a second that feels eons long, where he sees the polar bear’s claws coming for his skull. And his mind knows it’s not something his fragile herbivore anatomy will survive.
He can’t raise his gun, he’s not quick enough. Will he feel it? When his neck breaks or his skull shatters?
He’s not afraid. Like when he first burst into the Shishigumi’s hideout, gun in hand, blood from the newly deceased old lion boss’s head splattered across his face, all he feels is acceptance.
But he forgets one thing.
Legosi follows one code, Haru said to him once, and that is ‘Do good recklessly’.
And, oh, how right she was.
The next thing he registers is something shoving, basically throwing, him out of the way. His body scrapes against the concrete of the warehouse floor as he skids across it.
It’s enough to shock him back into the present.
He moves to his feet, so incredibly fast, it must have only been seconds since he first registered the fatal blow coming towards him from the bear.
He stands up in time to see the same blow meant for him hit Legosi instead. Louis hears the sound of claws tearing through flesh and a choked off yelp as the wolf is thrown out of his sight.
“Legosi!”
“Boss, get down!”
The air rushes out of Louis’s chest at Dope heavily tackles him back onto the ground, gunfire raining overhead.
It puts him at the right angle to hit the chain.
He wrangles his arms out from Dope’s grip, takes aim again, and fires.
The chain snaps and he crate crashes to the ground. Louis doesn’t see it hit, but he does hear a heavy, bear-sized thud against the ground and the crack of bones breaking.
“Vincent is down!” he hears from the other party.
There’s still a smattering of gunfire in the distance as Louis relaxes.
And, in that moment, Louis has time to notice that his right leg is quickly, frighteningly, going numb.
He tries to get to his feet, but Dope is still holding him down for cover.
“Get off! Get off!” he shouts, panic rising.
He breaks the lion’s hold on him and bolts across the warehouse floor ignoring the sound of the others shouting his name.
Louis finds Legosi laying on his back and immediately knows something is wrong.
He skids to a stop, knees bruising as he falls to them at Legosi’s side.
It’s horrific. Legois has his mouth open wide, neck extended, hands grasping uncoordinatedly at his neck.
Across which are four wide gashes, so deep that Louis can see how they’ve ripped through muscles and sinew. A large puddle of blood is rapidly growing on the ground as is streams out of the wounds.
“No, no, no, no” he babbles as he places his hands over the wounds, trying to press hard enough to slow the blood flow without strangling Legosi at the same time.
There’s an awful wet gurgle of a noise, like Legosi’s trying to speak but is drowning instead. He clenches a hand around one of Louis’s wrists, not moving to pull him away, just steading.
“Why would you do that?” Louis’s breath hitches violently. “Why the fuck would you do that?”
His chest is so tight, he feels like he is the one with hands around his neck, like he can’t breathe.
There’s shouting in the distance, more gunfire. It goes on for a while, and Louis doesn’t notice when all other noises fade until all that’s left is his frantic breaths and Legosi’s rasping ones.
All he can pay attention to is the blood seeping out from underneath his hands. He feels a wetness dripping from his eyes, down his muzzle, mixing with the blood on his hands, turning bits of red into a soft pink.
His vision blurs through the tears until all he can see is crimson rivers shooting etching jagged paths through steel grey fur. He mutters over and over again, “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay,”
Maybe if he says it enough it’ll be true.
There’s a point when Legosi’s hand slips from his wrist.
It barely registers against the growing numbness Louis feels.
Hands suddenly grab his shoulders firmly; others pry his blood-drenched hands off Legosi’s neck.
“No!” He scrambles to get his hands back over the wounds.
“Louis. Louis let go! They have to take him to the ambulance!”
He fights and fights against the those restraining him until he sees the gloved hands of an EMT cover the gashes across Legosi’s throat in place of his own.
The blood soaking his hands is growing cold against the night air.
Someone’s crying. Someone’s screaming.
A flash of black and brown in his vision. Someone’s standing in front of him, talking to him.
“Louis? Louis, I need you to calm down. Just breathe with me, okay kid?”
One miniscule part of Louis’s mind takes note of the words. Oh, that’s Yafya’s voice, isn’t it? When did he get here? Who called him?
The other, more encompassing part of him doesn’t care.
The other part of him just feels numb, numb, numb.
It’s quiet. Isolating.
He wishes he could feel pain instead.
+1
Legosi wakes up in a hospital.
He’s seen it all before. The white ceiling, the crinkling bedsheets, the uniform beeping of the EKG measuring his heart rate.
He’s woken up to it so many times, it’s all becoming quite familiar to him.
Legosi supposes that should be concerning, but he’s too tired to care at the moment.
Should he be tired? He just woke up, right?
He supposes that passing out is different from just falling asleep. Something to ask Gouhin about later.
He tries to sit up, but the attempt is short lived. Instead, he takes note of his surroundings.
The half-full bag of blood hanging next to his bed is stark against the white walls. His eyes follow the IV line to where it trails into his arm. His body feels sore, His throat tender and raw.
His chest hurts a little. He rubs at his ribs but doesn’t feel any obvious injuries there.
He remembers snippets of how he got here. He remembers the gang and how he tracked them down to the warehouse. He remembers the urgency of the situation, the anger he felt at the cause, the reason he took the blow.
He remembers his own blood. Someone yelling at him. Hands against his neck.
He lifts his own at the memory, feeling the front of his throat.
The fur there is shaved down to his skin. There’s four lines of sutures trailing in even stripes across his neck.
Oh, right.
Now he remembers.
It’s then that a nurse, a small, female bearded dragon, enters. She smiles warmly at him.
“Welcome back to the waking world, Legosi.”
She checks his vitals, helps him sit up, gives a cup of water, and doesn’t seem surprised when he asks for more.
“You had us worried for a while there,” she says while he gingerly sips. “The bear’s claws hit one of your jugulars. Thankfully it wasn’t completely severed, and we were able to replace the blood you lost. Your trachea was hit too. You were very, very lucky. If the ambulance had arrived any later, we may have not been able to do anything.”
The information sits a bit heavy, more for the worry he’s sure he caused the people around him than for his own sake.
“I was with a red deer,” he says, then cringes at the sound of his own voice, guttural, raw, quiet. “Is he okay?”
The bearded dragon nods as she writes things down on a chart, “He wasn’t hurt. He should be back soon, actually. Your grandfather made him go get something to eat. Poor thing hasn’t left since you got here. You’re very lucky to have someone who cares so much about you.”
Legosi hums in agreement.
She leaves when Gosha and Yafya appear. His poor grandpa hugs and frets over him, all the while having that mask on to hold in his venom. Legosi always hates seeing him wear it.
Yafya is scolding him, going off on a tangent about camaraderie and “just fucking call us if you need backup, you moron!”. Which is very hypocritical of him, if Legosi does say so himself.
There’s a bit more talking, more hugs and reassurances. But before long, Yafya leads Gosha out of the door before his venom can overflow and damage the floors. They wave him off with a promise to come back tomorrow.
After that, Legosi relaxes into the silence for a while.
His body aches, but it’s a normal, healing kind of pain.
He’s watching the news, trying to keep himself from falling asleep again until after the nurse comes back in the room on her evening rounds, when the door opens again.
Louis freezes in the doorway. His eyes widen at the sight of him, awake and sitting up.
Legosi perks up and absently turns the tv off. He sends a smile the deer’s way.
“Louis –“ he starts, but cuts himself off as he sees Louis flinch at the harsh rattle of his voice.
And then he remembers exactly who had their hands on his throat, who was desperately trying to keep him from bleeding out on a dirty warehouse floor.
Louis walks towards Legosi, stopping at the edge of the bed, staring at him like Louis can’t believe what he’s seeing. There are dark bags under his eyes.
The silence that sits between them is heavy, oppressing.
Legosi sees the moment where Louis’s wonder turns into a dark disquiet.
“Half of an inch,” Louis says eventually, his voice a dry caricature of his normal, confident vernacular.
“What?” he asks.
“Half an inch deeper, the doctor said, and it would have been your carotid artery instead.”
Louis gives a huff of a laugh, completely devoid of any humor. A hand raises to cover his eyes.
“Half an inch deeper, and they said you would have bled out in seconds, Legosi. Right in front of me,” the break in his voice is subtle, but Legosi hears it all the same.
And there it is again, that discomfort in his chest, sparking just below his sternum. A dark and heavy ache. It pulses horribly, like an incoming thunderstorm.
“Louis- “
“Shut up!” Louis hisses at him, all bravado vitriol that only a trained eye could see. His shoulders are shaking, repressing the feelings that are currently echoing inside of Legosi.
“How dare you. How fucking dare you!” he accuses, voice raising. “Are you really that eager to die? Is that why you throw yourself into any kind of danger you see? Is that really what you want? Okay, fine!”
Louis makes an aborted move to hunch over, like he wants to curl in on himself. “But why do you keep dragging me into it? Why do you keep making me watch!”
The feeling in Legosi strengthens. It’s horrible. Like a hand reaching in and crushing his heart, a hot coil searing his insides. It hurts.
Legosi reaches a hand out, and Louis flinches at the first brush of his fingers against the deer’s arm. Flinches, but doesn’t move away.
Legosi has long since learned to tell when Louis is actually angry and when he is bluffing, distancing himself from the potential hurt.
The second time, Louis doesn’t react when Legosi gently takes his arm and pulls him towards himself. Louis doesn’t offer up any resistance. He crashes into Legosi like a puppet with its strings cut, hiding his eyes against the wolf’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” Legosi rasps softly as Louis’s hands grip at the back of his hospital gown with a frightening, desperate force. “I’m sorry for scaring you. I’m sorry.”
Louis clings to him tightly, and cries relieved, heaving sobs into his hospital gown.
And Legosi is sorry. The guilt of having Louis watch him almost die again sits heavy across his shoulders. But he won’t apologize for protecting him, can’t even lie about it for Louis’s sake. He has no regrets if it means Louis or Haru, Jack, his grandpa, everyone he’s comes to know and hold dear is here, safe and unscathed in this temperamental world.
And yet, the pulsing hurt stings against his ribcage.
Legosi never told Louis. Didn’t even figure it out himself until months after the last fight with Melon. But, sometimes, there’s a feeling that overcomes him. One too intense and random to be linked to whatever Legosi is thinking or feeling at the time.
He runs a hand along Louis’s back as the other man cries against him, and whispers soothing words in his ear. Another deep ache bursts forth in his chest. Fireworks of anger, fear, relief, frustration echoing over and over again like a broken record. They flare brighter when Louis’s arms momentarily try to pull the two of them tighter together, one hand reaching up to grip the fur of Legosi’s neck instead of his shirt.
And Legosi knows, has always known.
It’s Louis’s.
Louis’s fear, his pain, his sorrow, his joy, his love, his anger.
He shares a part of Louis, just like Louis shares a part of him.
That night, that New Year’s Eve, they stood together, feeling the tremors brought on by circumstance, closing the rift that society forced them into.
And though he feels the aftershocks of pain, of hurt, of heartbreak crash against him, he can’t ever bring himself to regret anything.
They both made their beds on the earth-shattering fault lines of their choices, and now they lie in them.
And Legosi?
Well, he receives every feeling, every emotion, every wave of pain with complete and utter gratitude.
These groundbreaking, seismic waves of fate bring them together. And he will gladly ride out every single one of them for the rest of his days.