#though seeing her does settle a cathartic itch in the back of his brain that he didn’t know he had

[tails-boogie-board]

What happens when sonic finally meets Aleena?

It’s awkward. Stilted. Desperation in folds, but maybe that’s because Sonic can’t stand seeing girls cry. They don’t greet or hug and Sonic knows something needs to be said, but he doesn’t know the words.

Sonia and Manic run past, Manic crashing into her and Sonia stopping, just barely. Aleena wraps her arms around them and they apologize for sneaking out, yea, our bad but look! Sonic! Our brother! He’s alive, and we’re finally together and Aleena hugs them tight, but she stares at Sonic over their heads with a quiet longing. Sonic breaks eye contact first. They’re in an Eggman…Robotnik?- base-turned-hanger and he takes his time but she doesn't look away.

Sonic knows he was looking for her once, in another life as a different hedgehog. But in this life he's never had a desire for a mom, or even a thought really. He was taught to be him by the animals on Christmas Island. Seeing Vanilla and Cream was the first time he realized that people had moms and he probably had a mom too at some point.

But it was a concept, philosophy or something and Sonic went, “cool” and never thought about it again. He didn’t feel any envy or longing. He has his friends and his speed and his brother and that’s all he needs.

Speaking of-

Sonic turned away back towards the ship. There was a lil’ bit of yellow sticking out of the open hatch and Sonic throws out a single wave. The yellow turns to blue and he grins, dropping his hand to his hip, and gesturing with his head. Tails obliges and slowly creeps out onto the platform and Sonic watches to avoid the weight of his mom's stare. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sonia and Manic whispering behind Aleena and Tails’ ears twitch.

His tails flare in aggravation, but the fox just flicks the tension out, raises his shoulders and strides forward. He matches Sonic’s fist bump with an equal grin and when they turn back, Aleena had already looked away.

[dead-night-harringrove]

You ever thought of about feral werewolf Billy who watches Steve from afar but to afraid to get close because of other humans, but one day does get close to him.

It hadn’t been two months after moving to Hawkins, Indiana that Billy abandoned ship. There are no other wolves in Hawkins, aside from the naturals. Despite being a small town, the actual region of Hawkins is massive and he has plenty of space and time to reflect and regret.

He was bitten a year before, and he’s shifted outside of the full moon far too many times to count. It’s cathartic; the feeling of the earth beneath his paws, the smell of pine and maple filling his lungs, the metallic tang of blood on his tongue when he hunts. Billy always shifts and runs after a bad run in with Neil, but now he’s shifted and plans on never going back to that house as long as he’s alive. 

Billy always lingers though, and he wonders if Max knows it’s him. Sometimes she looks at him as if she knows, even as he dips into the woods away from prying eyes. He’s spent time near the other children too, always watching. Since he’s left, he notices more bruises on Max’s body that she tries to hide. He notices how she no longer bravely goes out to meet with her friends, but instead sneaks to their houses. He notices when Sinclair sees a cut on her lip and cries with her. Billy notices when Lucas’s eyes look up and meet his in the forest edge, and he pulls away and runs. 

Mostly, he lingers in the woods near Steve’s house. He still holds a deep guilt over the night at the Byers house, over how far he’d taken his own actions and the primal rage that even his wolf had cowered away from. Billy hadn’t been able to shift for days after the fight, unable to coax his wolf out of wherever it was hiding within him. 

Usually, his wolf is like a second voice in his head, a constant stream of animal suggestions and solutions to his day to day life. When he’s angry, his wolf begs for bared teeth and torn throats. When he’s content, the wolf wants companionship and warmth. When he’s sad, his wolf wants to howl and lay down for days. Only on the full moon does his wolf become the savage, blood-thirsty beast werewolves are usually portrayed as. To suddenly have the continuous commentary of his other half completely disappear because of his human actions, it was a little disconcerting and threw him further into despair than he’d like to admit. 

So, he watches and wonders what he can do to make it up to all of these people he’s wronged, to make it up to Steve. He wants, more than anything, for Steve to hold him and tell him that he’ll be okay, that he’s not a monster, that he’s got a life worth living for. 

It’s on one of the nights he’s outside of Steve’s house, digging idly into the dirt with his claws out of boredom, when he hears a low cry that builds into a scream. Billy’s barreling towards the house before he can even think about how easily he abandons his distance. There isn’t a trace of anything human in his voice as he barks outside of the door, scratching to be let in. Steve screams again before going quiet, and Billy hears footsteps coming from within the house. When the door swings open, he yelps as he gets a firm hit to the face with a nail bat. Any train of thought he had previously flies away from him as his ears start ringing and he feels blood dripping off of his face and matting his fur from where the nails had impacted. Billy crumples in a heap on the ground, trying to collect himself but failing as all he can register is pain, pain, attacked, threat, submit, run, pain. He wants to run, he wants to abandon the town and forget he was ever human and forget about humans, but he can’t move. Distantly, he hears Steve curse and then there are hands on him, trying to move him gently and he whimpers as his body takes its sweet time regenerating his injuries. Slowly, he’s finally able to stand up and think and Steve is leading him into the house and running into what Billy assumes is the kitchen. It’s confirmed when the other boy returns with a bowl of water and a plate of random leftovers. There’s no mercy to be shown for the pizza slices, old ham, and some type of pasta piled high onto the plate. He makes a mess of the water bowl, lapping at it and drooling all across the expensive floor as he lifts his bloody face up. It’s mostly healed now, and Steve notices immediately that the wolf he’s let into the house after a panicked attack is most certainly not a normal wolf. It’s not a giant beast, but it is larger than any wild wolf he’s seen around before. Not to mention, it’s eyes. They’re so blue, with flecks of green and gold that remind him of the ocean. He’s been to the beach a few times when he was younger, and always remembered the humbling smallness he always felt when standing before it. He’d felt the same way when staring into Billy Hargrove’s eyes, deep and endless and so very blue. 

“You’re the blue eyed wolf the kids keep talking about, aren’t you?” he asks, not expecting a response. The wolf looks at him, licking its lips and just watching him. Maybe he’s going insane; he’s talking to a damn wolf that he just let into his house despite the fact it could be rabid or anything. He’d hit it thinking it was a demodog, and then panicked when he’d realized it was a furry, earthen friend who was probably just alarmed by his usual nightmare screaming. Maybe it had thought he was prey. Given the fact he nailed it square in the head, quite literally, and it was still going and had healed up now, he’s quite certain it’s no normal wolf. Between the eyes, the abnormal size, and the healing, he’s not sure what it is. It’s not trying to eat him though, so that counts for something. When he goes back into the kitchen with the bowls, it follows him with it’s tail and head ducked low, ears tucked against the back of its head and it’s watching him with what he might call sad eyes. He knows it’s a submissive gesture, and he leans down and holds his hand out. It gently nudges its cold wet nose into his palm, and he pushes his hand back over its head, scratching behind its ear. The wolf’s eyes actually widen for a moment before closing in absolute bliss, leaning fully into the touch. It’s making circles beneath his hands, and flops over and Steve is reminded he loves dogs as he scratches its side and its back leg starts scratching at the air in a frenzy. 

Billy’s absolutely stoked. Having never been pet before, never been treated like a dog in this context, suddenly he understands why dogs absolutely love being scratched all over their bodies. He’s been in his wolf form for about three months, only shifting back into his human skin overnight because his body just can’t retain one or the other form for 24 hours unless he’s consciously forcing it. Needless to say, he’s definitely gotten some itches in places his wolf legs simply can’t reach and Steve’s hands are hitting all of them. 

Before long, Steve is closing the front door and locking it. He leaves another plate of leftovers out and refills the water bowl, and Billy is internally panicking as he realizes he’s stuck in the house. Steve pets him on the head again, making a comment on how he must have been a pet wolf that got loose because he was so tame and Billy would have laughed if he could have. Then, before Billy can really do anything else, Steve is walking up the stairs and into his bedroom. He leaves the door open, and all of the lights on. With a sigh, Billy settles in for a long night. 

He’ll have to get up early after he reverts back into his human form and sneak out before Steve gets up, because he’d rather Steve be confused by how the wolf he’d let in just disappeared than have to deal with Steve seeing Billy Hargrove in his house. 

It is worth noting that nothing ever goes according to plan in Billy’s life. He jolts awake to the sound of someone letting out a sudden scream, and he unintentionally growls and bares his teeth as he looks around in a panic himself. His eyes lock on Steve’s, and the pieces are all clicking back together as he remembers the night before and realizes he’s sitting on Steve’s floor, very much unclothed and covered in blood and dirt, teeth bared like a crazy person. 

Obviously he hadn’t gotten up early enough to leave. The sun is barely rising and Steve is inching towards the phone  mounted on the side of the wall in the living room. Billy’s eyes widen as he realizes what Steve is doing, and within an instant he’s right beside the phone and also blocking the way to the door. Steve visibly swallows, eyes glancing around like a nervous deer trying to find an escape route. 

“W-what did you do to the, the wolf that was in here? Did you break in? Did you let him out?” he asks, voice unsure. Billy’s not sure how to deal with the fact that Steve is talking to his human form with more hesitance and threat of danger than he did unknowingly to his wolf form. It’s a little concerning and heartbreaking that he’s counted as more of a threat than a potentially deadly wild animal. Unintentionally, he lets out a whine. He’s spent so much time living as his wolf, they’re now one and the same. Trying to separate himself is proving to be a little difficult for his still sleepy brain. 

Steve’s own brain falters as the sound that leave’s Billy’s mouth is less than human and far too perfect of a noise to be just a mimic. He remembers how familiar the wolf’s eyes had been, and his own eyes widen as he also remembers how quickly the wolf had healed from being hit with a nail bat, and how large it had been. 

“Holy shit...” he says, and they just stare into each others eyes for a while. When Billy finally speaks, his voice is hoarse from not being used in a long time. 

He says, “Please, don’t...don’t tell anyone... I’m sorry, for everything. I’m sorry for the fight. I’m sorry for how far it went that night. Please don’t tell anyone. I don’t want my dad to know I’m alive.” 

Steve inches closer as he speaks, and looks into the wild eyes of the boy in front of him. They’re enchanting, and sad, and Steve finds himself believing the words Billy says. He remembers a quote he’s seen in his English Class, printed on a poster on the teacher’s wall. “To look into the eyes of a wolf is to see your own soul,” a quote he believes some guy called Aldo said. What was his last name? Leopard? He can’t remember, but it doesn’t matter anyways. 

“I won’t. Tell, I mean. I won’t tell anyone. You’re a, you’re a..?” He asks, trailing off.“A werewolf?” Billy supplies, somewhat amused but mostly surprised at how calmly Steve was reacting. He’s entirely surprised when Steve smiles, seemingly enchanted by the new knowledge he has. “Yeah, a werewolf. You’re a fucking werewolf. Holy shit! That explains the eyes... Can I watch? If that’s, ah, not weird for you. I mean, not any weirder than waking up to, uhm.” He pauses, eyes glancing down for the briefest of moments before tearing their way back up to his face and Billy is absolutely delighted by the tiniest blush that takes over Steve’s face. He’s also reasonably embarrassed, because he did kind of hit Steve with a whirlwind of experiences within the past 24 hours and now he’s leaned up against the wall, completely bare and keeping Steve from leaving. 

“You can watch, yeah... I don’t plan on sticking around for too long though, just... I’ve gotten attached to being wild. It’s much better than being human, tied down to expectations and society. I’m not leaving Hawkins though. And, uh, can you do me a favor?” Billy asks, and Steve tilts his head, listening. He’s intrigued by everything Billy’s said so far, and realizes that lycanthropy might be the best thing that could have possibly happened to a person like Billy. Maybe the rage of the beast combined with Billy’s rage just cancels it out, because this is the calmest he’s ever seen the younger boy. Of course, Billy’s also been listed as a runaway for the past three and a half months, so if he’s been shifted as a wolf for all of that time it makes sense he’d have mellowed out. Nature is terrifying, but beautiful when it wants to be. It’s the perfect place for all of Billy’s chaotic energy to be let loose. 

“Are you listening?” He hears Billy laugh, and snaps back into the present. “Oh shit, I’m sorry. What were you gonna ask me?” 

Billy’s serious expression returns, somewhat stormy and angry, and Steve hangs onto what he says this time. 

“Keep an eye out for Max. Don’t let her get as angry as I did, she deserves better than that.”

Steve isn’t sure what he means by that, but he recalls how distant Max has become from the group lately. He recalls Billy just a few minutes prior telling him he didn’t want his father to know he was alive. Thinks to himself that maybe there are a few more pieces to the puzzle than he’s already collected and makes a decision to talk to Max the next time he sees her.

“I will. And, I mean, I don’t fully forgive you because what you did that night was fucked up on so many levels. But, if you ever get tired of sleeping in caves or whatever it is wolves and werewolves do, or if you ever just need a place to stay and want to be human for a bit, my house is always open. My parents are never home, and it’s a lonely house. Or, you know, if you ever just want belly scratches again,” he says, smirking wickedly as he finishes speaking. Billy blushes, nose twitching as he glances down at the floor. Steve tries not to look much further below Billy’s shoulders. 

“I mean, if you’re offering, I doubt I could resist,” he eventually shoots back, a grin pulling at his lips. Steve snorts, then stretches and heads into the kitchen.

“I’m gonna head out now, I have to travel a little further out since the full moon’s in a few days. I mean, if you want to watch now? It’s quicker travelling on all fours...” he says, and Steve nods as he follows Billy out to the back door and into the yard. There’s nothing but forest on this side of his house, and he glances over at Billy when he takes a sharp breath. 

It’s a painful, disgusting, and hypnotically beautiful transformation to watch, and Billy cries as he shifts. Steve is at his side in a moment, and Billy leans into his touch when he places a hand on his back. He can feel the bones reforming underneath his skin, a sick slide of flesh and muscle shifting to make way. Billy collapses once he’s fully shifted, breathing heavy and body twitching in the aftershocks. 

It’s fifteen minutes before he finally stands up, content to just let Steve run his fingers through the thick fur on his neck and and over his head and ears. 

Billy turns back to look at Steve once he’s at the edge of the forest, and then with a leap he disappears.