"I told you, there's no dog here."

Kit scowled at the sleek lawyer and slightly less sleek paralegal outside his uncle's door, keeping it mostly shut. "Okay?"

"Mr. Harwell's witness account - "

"Well Mr. Harwell is full of shit, and can take his account and shove it up his - "

"Kit, please."

Charlie appeared behind him, taking hold of the doorframe and nudging the teenager in behind him. He had just gotten back and hour ago, rosy-cheeked, after having an early lunch with Mr. Devereux, and was wearing fresh clothes and polished glasses. 

His uncle had come back from Amos's place happy. Humming, blushing for no reason now and then, gaze far away and eyes sparkling.

That should be good, his nephew thought.

It should be. Kit should be happy for him - after all the shit of the last few days, Charlie deserved to be in a bubbly mood.

The boy shifted, trying to understand the dread sitting cold and heavy in his belly.

A small part of him that he didn't want to acknowledge had wanted Charlie to come back puffy-eyed and sad, disappointed again...

Why? That's such a shitty thing to want.

So instead of saying anything Kit had paced around, grumpy, until these two had rung the doorbell and given him an excuse to snarl at someone. 

"You said he was mauled by a rabid dog?" Charlie raised his slender eyebrows in mild disbelief. 

"That is what his injuries seem to suggest." 

"Well, Mr. Harwell came by here, acting very strangely, and then he left on his own accord. I would hedge a guess that he was bitten sometime on his way home, and later confused the memories."

The young engineer looked down his nose at the lawyer and sniffed.

"He was clearly not in his right mind. I'm half inclined to press charges, actually. I would if not for how - kind - my employers have been to me in the past."

"We are very sorry to bother you, Mr. Callaghan. You are certain you don't own a dog?"

"As you can see," the blond answered calmly, "There is only myself and my nephew here."

His voice was perfectly courteous, but he made not move to let them inside, posture relaxed and firm. 

"We have no pets, certainly no dangerous, rabid canine - my neighbours and landlord can attest to it. And there's a reason you two are here instead of members of law enforcement - isn't there?"

Kit watched him slide a cooly appraising gaze over the two of them. The paralegal shifted from one foot to the other underneath his scrutiny. 

"Mr. Harwell did come by here, like I said - and he was obviously under the influence. He threatened me with a blade and pushed me into a counter. I had to seek medical attention, and would be well within my rights to sue for reparations."

"And my clients have given me reason to believe they have grounds to take action against you for breach of contract and defamation, Mr. Callaghan - "

"I trust they will refrain. And as long as they do, I will not be forced to take Mr. Harwell to court for trying to kill me. That kind of a scandal is really the last thing he needs, considering what some papers are already writing about him, isn't it?"

The lawyer nodded, his neutral expression briefly crossed with a satisfied look, corner of his mouth twitching up. 

Hunter might want the cops involved, Kit thought, but it looks like his family don't. 

This suit was just here to make sure Charlie didn't stir up any more trouble. 

"We could be amendable to helping you with your medical bills as a show of good faith - not that my client admits to harming you, Mr. Callaghan - but I'm afraid we'd need a non-disclosure agreement signed concerning this highly regretful incident..."

"Pay my last salary and show me a signed and notarised paper stating that your clients won't contact me ever again or come after me for breach of contract - which I'm not admitting to, naturally - "

"Naturally," the man interjected drily. 

" - And I'll think about it, Mr...?"

The attorney gave them his card. 

"I'm moving away from here and only want a simple, undisturbed life," Charlie concluded, voice firm. 

"Of course. We won't take up any more of your time."

Once they left, Kit tried to lighten the mood, feeling tired and out of sorts, rubbing his forehead, a headache building behind his temples.

"You're on fire lately... Who are you and what did you do to my timid uncle?"

Charlie smiled blandly and watched the two men go before shutting the door and leaning against it with a shaky laugh, trying to steady his breathing, a faint tremor now visible in his hands. 

The boy shook his head slowly. "Gotta say, I'm impressed."

"You could have done it better..." Came the whispered response. 

"No, that was great. That lawyer, he bought it - I think we're good."

He tried to smile but there was still something wrong with his face, and it came out like a grimace.

Come on, Kit, you're a better liar than this... Schooling his expression, he looked up, only to find his uncle watching him, still leaning against the closed door.

"Are you - all right?"

Kit opened his mouth to snap I'm fine, what are you on about and instead what came out was,

"Are you with Amos now?" He winced at the accusatory tone, but there was no taking it back now.

The only way out is through.

"Yes," Charlie said simply, blushing again. For some reason it made Kit frown.

"He gave me a collar," he admitted in a hushed tone, turning his face back to rest against the wood, flush creeping up his neck. 

Kit sputtered, losing his train of thought. "He - what?!" 

"Oh, it was so soft, Kit, and I felt so good in it, I want to wear it all the time - "

"I thought you were going to be all free and independent now?"

"Oh, I am. But this is different. He didn't tell me to - I asked. And it's a game - outside of the bedroom he's always a gentleman... Even in bed, he, well, noticed that I'm not into humiliation..."

The boy rolled his eyes. "Good. At least he's got eyes and ears, then. But you need to be honest - are you?"

"Am I...?"

"Are you being honest with him? About what you've been through? Are you being honest with yourself?"

"I'm trying. It's...getting better?" 

Finally, Charlie turned around to face him again, and Kit moved away from the door, unclenching his fists, trying to be supportive. Trying hard to swallow his anxious discontent. 

"Good." His sharp hazel eyes softened. "I'm proud of you."

Why do I feel this way? 

His uncle followed him into the room, glancing at the couch, fidgeting without sitting down, not meeting his eyes.

"I've gotten a response on one of my job applications," he said, "And they want to schedule an interview."

Kit raised his eyebrows. "Good. That was quick."

"Without any references it'll be harder to find something, but - not impossible, I hope. This one is a for a candy factory."

"Yeah? What do they need you for?"

His uncle immediately got the dreamy, far-away look that meant he was thinking about chemical formulas.

"Oh, there is so much science in food packaging. Any alteration to the recipe might change the pH value and depending on the composition and internal surface material of the packaging that could affect variables such as shelf life and consistency.

"Take chocolate for example - you want it to remain solid in room temperature, yet melt in your mouth. And stay shiny, right? All of that is down to molecular - "

"Just remember to say no when they ask you to make their candy more addictive."

Charlie scrunched his nose up. He looked content, happier than ever without worry pinching his brow and ringing his big eyes with bruise-like shadows. Pretty like his sister would have been, if not for her illness. 

Because of Amos Devereux.

The teenager hated that his uncle's happiness was thanks to that business owner. Why had Kit never been able to make him stop worrying, wasn't their new small fragile family enough - their pack, their blood-bond - 

"You don't have to worry about me anymore, Kit," Charlie said softly, as if he could feel the distress emanating from the boy. 

"I'm going to be okay."

I don't want you to be okay without me.

The werewolf barely stopped a growl from escaping his throat.

"You've mixed up love and obedience," he said instead, words spilling out without censor, fuelled by something he couldn't rein in. Some strange possessiveness that was new and foreign to him. 

"You've jumbled them up together. But they're not the same - you can get off on taking orders and that's fine, okay, but you gotta know nobody that loves you would ask you to do something you don't want to - "

"I do know." Charles's eyes were soft. "I know that now, Kit. Maybe it took me a while to realise, but I did at last. Amos isn't like that."

He took a deep breath, tone firm. "And if he started treating me that way, I wouldn't let him. I would leave if I saw the slightest signs of him acting like Hunter did. I don't deserve that - no one deserves that.

"You don't have to worry about me, Kit. You can take care of yourself now. I appreciate everything you've done for me, but..."

Kit closed his eyes.

Charlie had told him to stop worrying. To stop taking care of him. That he should look after himself instead, focus on himself.

And that should be good news, right?

Instead of coming as a relief, those words felt like an avalanche crashing down, rushing to bury him.

"What about your issues? Is that why you're running to someone new the moment you finally got away from - "

"My - what? What's wrong? Is this about - "

"No, Charlie! This is about you - you and your massive daddy issues!"

God, Kit, stop talking.

"I do not have daddy issues! And that's not a - a medical term - "

"Yes you fucking do - don't blush! It's not about sex. They're not about sex, that's why you're going about this all wrong and Amos is all wrong - "

"It is about sex. I want him, I like him! That's what this is -!"

"Do you even know what those kinds of issues are?!"

Charlie looked taken aback, as if he had never considered it. He probably thought back to the jokes he'd heard in sitcoms as a child.

"It's - girls that date older men?"

Kit pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled. "No. It's -

"It can be - kids that look for replacement parents in authority figures in their lives. Dependable ones they see regularly, respect maybe and start to trust. It has nothing to do with sex for the person with the problems. 

"But you would do anything for their approval. Go to church, do chores, change the way you dress and talk. And then maybe - maybe that person goes, Sure, I'll give you what you want. In return for sex. And you think, Okay. That sounds fair.

"And you don't even stop to think that you're not agreeing because you want it - but because you feel like it's a deal you're willing to take in exchange for what you need from that person.

"And you've probably been raised to believe that everything has it's price, nothing comes free."

He was crowding closer now, stalking him, chin down and eyes narrowed, movements slow and deliberate. Charlie took and involuntary step back, almost bumping into the sofa.

"Plenty of parents and schools use that strategy, okay? Offering conditional love in return for obedience and performance. 

"It can be effective, when it doesn't backfire. And when I say effective, I mean it does what it's meant to - motivates you to obey and perform. But it also creates people that are broken inside in this very specific way - they believe everyone and everything has its price.

"So it's not - it was never a question of if there's a price, only what that price is. And whether or not you're willing to pay. What's it worth to you?

"What would you pay, give up, or do to be worthy of love."

To earn it. 

"And if someone wants your body you think, Great!  Because what else could you possibly have to offer them?"

Nothing. 

"You're young and you have your body. There is nothing else they might ever like about you - so if they don't even want your body, then you're worthless. They'll want nothing to do with you at all."

Kit paused to take a breath and then snapped his mouth shut, eyes shooting up to where Charlie was staring at him, mouth falling open.

"So if you do well, you'll get affection, acknowledgement, guidance - whatever you want. And if you don't get those things, then it's your own fault, isn't it, because you just weren't good enough."

He was breathing hard, pain sharp in his eyes, so close now, almost chest to chest.

"And someone offered you all those things - in return for something - you knew there had to be something, there's always something, always a catch - "

The older man stepped back and half tripped into the couch, sitting heavily, off-kilter, but Kit followed, suddenly towering over him.

Paling, Charlie had a brief flashback to his nephew pushing him down into the glass shards on his office floor, furious. But Kit wasn't angry right now - he looked frantic, almost frightened, eyes wide and nostrils flaring, plump lips parting around quick, shallow breaths.

"Charlie, you're acting just like a kid, just willing to do whatever to get love, or - whatever you'd usually want from your parents but didn't get. It's dangerous for you!"

He was closer now, too close, pupils bleeding into his irises the way they'd done in the car when he had shown his werewolf eyes to his uncle, standing between his legs, leaning forward. 

"Even if all that was true, which I-I'm not sure it i-is - not for m-me - who are we talking about here?" 

Charlie bit down on his bottom lip to try and stifle his stuttering, glaring up. 

"You!"

"Really? What about you, Kit?!"

"No! Shut up! Don't accuse me - "

"You accused me! Stop deflecting!"

Kit stayed silent half a heartbeat too long. "Mom. Kitty. She was - like you. That's why, that's why, that's why."

He'd been resentful of having to take care of his hapless uncle - had acted careless and superior. But now he was going to lose him. 

From now on, Amos was going to make sure Charlie got home safely at night, ask him if he'd eaten, make him smile. Charlie might move in with him and leave Kit behind. 

A sound like thunder built in his ears, rumbling, drowning out every other noise.

To give you some space and independence, he'd say. And the teenager would have to pretend he wanted that, when the truth was - 

Kit no longer resented him at all. He no longer saw his mom in the other man's features - he only saw Charlie, and he couldn't bear the thought of the other man abandoning him too, leaving him -

Alone. 

Completely alone this time. Like he'd believed he was during the hours and days and weeks after Kitty's death, before they'd tracked his uncle down, before Charlie had agreed to take him in. 

On his own in the world, with nothing and no-one besides his guilt and worthlessness and gaping loneliness - 

Don't do it.

He tried to stay still, sharp nails digging into his palms as he stared down at the blond, wild, half-feral, panic rising, hot and blinding like a brand -

Don't do it, Kit. Don't, don't, don't -

With a helpless snarl, Kit swung into Charlie's lap and pressed their mouths together.