Loup-Garou

Phoenix's father was a good man.

He was just, and kind, and always strived to believe the best of people. He'd taught Phoenix just that; how to listen, how to give the benefits of the doubt. How to reach out and how to help out.

Phoenix's mother was good, too.

But she wasn't a human.

"Your teeth are dull, my son. And that is a good thing." She'd told him, once, after he'd confessed to feeling the itch of fangs that did not exist.

(His body bothered him a lot, back then; too constricting. Too solid. He'd yearned to break it apart, to fall on all four and run with the wind, to rear his head back and howl at the sky. He used to wonder, often, if his mother felt the same. If she ever regretted becoming human for him.)

(He wonders what she'd think of him now. If she would have known to warn him about the Magatama. Ten years of use and overuse and straining at his soul- of course it would have consequences. Of course he'd start to break. He has to lock the door when the Moon is full, now. His bones grow and his skin shift and for one night oh, how glorious does this horror feel.)

"Your teeth are dull, and that is a good thing." His mother had told him, holding his jaw. "Today's world belong to mankind. Neither fur nor claws will help you when it matters the most. Words, however- you can do anything, if you find the good words."

("Objection!" Quick, to bluff, to find something convincing to say, to gain even just a few minutes, anything-)

"Still, do not, for a second, think that this makes you any less of my son." And she'd patted his head, then. "There is a wolf inside of you."

And how could he have denied it? There was, is, something, in his blood. Something violent and feral and possessive, something that latches on those who get close to him with bared teeth and growls mine, mine, mine, my pack, my people, I love you I love you I would do anything for you, I love you I love you for you I would-

-change the course of my life, learn the law like one would learn to hunt-

-eat that poison, glass bottle and golden chain alike-

-charge through a burning bridge in the dead of winter-

"They say love comes from the heart." Mia had mused once, as they'd shared a drink, Mia, who had been his, too, his (friend, mentor, sister,) the noun less important than the possessive, "but you? You only know how to love with your whole being."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Well." She'd shrugged. "You did eat an entire necklace right in front of me."

(And it had burned. And it had hurt. But nothing, nothing had been more scalding than the sheer betrayal that came with it.)

"Runs in the family, I'm afraid." He'd chuckled. "My mother is the same as me."

"Ah. I see." She'd replied. And she'd left it at that.

(Mia, he would learn, much later, was quite familiar with family curses.)

"Daddy!" Trucy, nine years old, filled to the brim with energy, ran towards him to tug on the hem of his sweatshirt. "Guess what today is?"

(Trucy Enigmar, Gramarye, Wright, each of these names as heavy with legacy as Fey, Edgeworth, Von Karma. Can he raise her right? That question haunts him at night. Can he raise her right? With a monster of a father who earn his keep as a card shark. Can he raise her right?)

"I don't know, baby girl. What day is it?"

"Tonight's the full Moon!" She'd grinned, with that sunshine smile of hers. "And tomorrow's Saturday. Can I go out with you tonight? I wanna howl with you too!"

(She'd found him, three months in, laying on his bed in this distorted body that is neither human nor animal yet feels so right. She'd stared, for a few seconds, eyes wide as platters, as his mind was racing on to what to do.

And then she'd called, very quietly: "Daddy?"

He'd nodded, then. His teeth were sharp, but he could not speak. He understood, now, what his mother had meant about words.

"I had a nightmare." She'd said. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

Never once had she flinched seeing him like this.)

"Girls your age need their beauty sleep, kiddo."

"But I don't have school tomorrow! Come ooon, pretty please?"

Aw, shucks. "Fine. But just this time, alright?"

(You only know how to love with your whole being. How could he not? The people in his life never deserved anything less.)

Comments