The Pack (Editing)

Season 3 Episode 2: Bloodline

          "Alex!" A young woman squealed as she ran up the driveway to her favorite cousin. Alex smiled at her, pulling his hands from his pockets and opening his arms to her. As the two collided in a super sonic hug, the girl's parents, Alex's aunt and uncle, were pulling luggage from their car. Alex's parents came out to help them.

          With a family reunion coming soon, Alex's new home was going to be used for the event. They had been asked to house two households while others arrange things. His cousin, aunt, and uncle. And his grandparents. The grandparents hadn't arrived yet.

          "It's been a whole year, I can't believe it! Look at how tall you are! O!M!G!"
          "Angelica! Calm down." Her mom called from the car. Angelica rolled her eyes, "Come on. We have to catch up."
          "I'm gonna help your parents with you guys' stuff and then we can do whatever you want." Alex said, pulling from the hug. She shrugged and moved along into the house.

          Alex's uncle passed him a carry-on bag, "I hope you're ready for the family hunting trip. Just the guys, nature, and the thrill of the hunt."
          "Oh hush it, Gerald." His aunt said, swatting his arm. He chuckled, patting Alex on the back as he began walking away with the bag. He shook his head, chuckling, "You have no idea how ready I am."

          "What was that?" His mom asked, helping Angelica move the already unloaded luggage into the guest rooms. Alex looked to her and shrugged, "Nothing." He put the bags down and went back outside to help. He smirked to himself. With this family hunting trip coming soon, he had a perfect target in mind. And it was probably going to be too gullible to realize it's prey.
———

          Scott groaned loudly as Mitch massaged his back. He had been so stressed out with school and other stuff lately that he's been more tense than a Wattpad sex scene. When Mitch noticed, he tried offering a massage. Scott denied, but it wasn't until Mitch physical ripped his shirt off and tossed him on the bed that he realized he was going to get it whether he wanted it or not. And as much as he didn't want to force Mitch to do it, he wanted it. He needed it.

          "How's the whole sleepwalking thing going?" Scott asked, turning his head to face Mitch. Mitch's face was expressionless for a while, seemingly deep in thought. He sighed a little.
          "I think it's getting worse. Kirstie keeps telling me not to worry about it, but I'm smart enough to know she's just trying not to worry me." He lightened his massaging a little as he spoke. Patrick
          "What are the nightmares like, if you don't mind me asking?" Scott asked.
          "It's like the worst pain I've ever felt. And part of me isn't sure if I've actually woken up. There's still this... burning in my heart. The same I get when I'm terrified. It's hard for me to focus and I can't... sleep." Mitch's eyes slowly lifted to meet Scott's.

          Scott turned his body a little and sat up, furrowing his brow at Mitch. Mitch's eyes slowly lowered, soon finding a lock on his feet. Scott reaches his hand out and placed it under the smaller boy's chin, lifting it so they could make eye contact. Mitch bottom lip was out and pouted, gently wobbling as he tried not to cry. Scott shook his head frantically, "No, no, no, don't cry. Don't cry. Everything's okay."
          "You must think I'm some weak minded fool..." Mitch's voice cracked a little towards the end of his sentence.
          "No, of course not. You're just small and sensitive. And whether you believe me or not, I like that about you. Not everybody can be as hard as Kirstie, or as excited as Avi, or as smart as Kevin. With you, you give us all a stronger reason to fight. We all want to protect you. I want to protect you. And even if it costed me my life, I'd do anything for you."

          Mitch sucked his lip into his mouth as bit on it a little. He was so focused on not crying he didn't realize how intimate their position was. Scott's shirtless form consuming his own, their bodies inches apart. Scott took a deep breath and leaned down, connecting their lips in a sudden and passionate display of affection. Mitch was shocked, initially, but the way their lips danced in near perfect harmony made him melt like butter in his friend's arms.
          Scott's hands found themselves wandering Mitch's small frame, his large fingers resting in the dimples on Mitch's back. Mitch brought himself closer to Scott, finding joy in the heat of his body against his. He felt his heart pick up its pace and he smiled a little into the kiss. Scott's tongue dared to slide across Mitch's bottom lip, asking permission for further exploration. Mitch happily allowed him further access into him.

          "Oh... my god." Avi's voice rumbled. Mitch jumped a little and gasped, "Avi!"
          Scott and Mitch scrambled to get as much distance between themselves as possible. Avi was stunned, frozen into his spot at the threshold of the door. Then, he snickered a little. Mitch frowned, blushing in embarrassment. Scott huffed, bowling his hair out of his face. He was a total cockblock.
          "I fucking knew it." He bellowed, "Kevin owes me twenty bucks."
          "You were betting? Who else was betting?" Scott raised a brow. He glanced over to Mitch, just as confused as he was.
          "I think I heard your sister say something about it, too." Avi said as he entered the room.

          "You are a total cockblock." Scott said through gritted teeth as he escorted Avi out. Avi laughed a gave Scott a pat on the chest. Scott shook his head, swatting his hand away before practically throwing Avi out of the door. He sighed softly, pinching the bridge of his nose.
          "I-I should probably go, too." Mitch said, sliding around Scott and walking away.
          "Wait!... dammit, Avriel." Scott clenched his jaw, closing his door as he retreated to his room.

—————

          "Dad! I finished raking!" Kaleb called up the stairs as he entered the house. He kicked his shoes off at the rack and took off the gloves, walking to the kitchen for some water.

          Kaleb was a boy who had been fairly low in social standing at school. Not popular, but not a victim of bullying like other kids. He was just there. A background character at best. He had a friend, but he moved because his parents thought that Arcata was unsafe. As far as Kaleb was informed, there was actual reason. More of a feeling. He didn't pay too much attention to it, though. He was young, and his biggest worry was how long he could play outside before his dad yelled for him.

          The large, burly man came trudging up from the basement, leaning against the counter lazily as he greeted his son. Kaleb sighed softly and started the kettle, "You need some tea."
          "I'm gonna turn into tea if I keep drinking it. It's not a cure all, you know?" His dad huffed as he plopped down into a chair.
          "It's not meant to cure anything. It's just meant to chill you out. You're not pleasant when you're exhausted. Dad, you work too hard." Kaleb said as he leaned against the counter, sipping his water.
          "You sound just like her." He said, more to himself than to Kaleb. A soft smile settled on his face and his gaze moved back up to his son.

          Though Kaleb doesn't really remember what his mother looked like, he was the spitting image. Soft, curly black locks shaping his small, sharp face. His golden brown eyes, making his whole face softer to look at. His well-rounded frame. He looked just like her, even down to the freckles that lied in scattered kisses on his cheeks.
          "You know I don't have much of a reference for that, Dad." Kaleb sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
          "Just...never mind. Just know that you are definitely her son." He said.

          After a few moments, the shrill cry of the kettle caught Kaleb's attention. When he reached to grab the handle, he felt a soft chill slide up his arm. He shivered, if only a little bit. He assumed it was a draft and picked up the pot, grabbing a mug for his poor old father. He grabbed a tea bag and put three cubes of sugar in. More than enough sugar for anyone, but to his dad it was still a little bitter.

          Kaleb sat at the window in the living room, watching as the world around him went by. He watched a boy walk down the street, their eyes making brief contact. A soft smile settled on his face, but the boy only seemed to walk faster. He looked pale, but not a natural pale. It was the pale of terror. The white of a sheet; like he'd seen a ghost.