Date: Sun, 15 Jul 2012 09:14:05 -0400 (EDT)
From: Pwrlftrbear@aol.com
Subject: Stepping Into Forever 10

					10

	A loud crash woke me suddenly.
	"Papa!" a strange voice whispered from beside me.  "What was that?"
	I threw the covers back and crept to the door.  The room was
unfamiliar but I moved easily towards the door.  Sounds of footsteps and
low voices came from down the hall.
	"I want you to get out of the house," another's voice came from my
mouth as I turned back toward the bed.  "Go where I showed you while I take
care of this."
	"I don't want to leave you," the young man said, nonetheless,
slipping out of the bed.
	"You still haven't reached your first change.  I don't want
anything to happen to you."
	The young man brushed shaggy brown hair out of his worried eyes and
nodded.  He opened the window and slipped outside.
	I turned back to the door, hearing voices beyond it.  Suddenly it
opened.
	"Where's my son, you fucking bastard," a voice shouted.
	There was a flash and pain cut through my body.



	"Gene!"
	The cry woke me from my well earned slumber.  The mass of furry
bodies draped around and over me surged, sending me rolling across the
mats.  I sat up, rubbing my eyes, trying to make sense of the scene before
me.
	Brian was struggling to rise, his face a mask of rage and grief.
His eyes were wild, nearly black and unseeing.  Guttural sounds echoed
through the room.
	"Brian!" Paul cried, grabbing his shoulder.  "What's wrong?"
	Brian shrugged him off and turned toward the door.
	"Brian!  Wake up!" Jim said, grabbing his arm while Paul grabbed
the other.
	He barely seemed to register them, hauling them across the room
with him.
	"A little help here!" Paul called, beginning to shift.
	Kip and I scrambled up, shifting as we went and latched onto the
lumbering hulk.  He bellowed in frustration, trying to shake us off.
	"Joe!" Paul cried, grimly hanging onto his thrashing arm.
	"He's not hearing me, either!" came that strange voice.  "You're
going to have to get his attention the hard way."
	"Grab his nuts!" Paul grated.
	I was in the best position to reach his sack.  I grabbed a handful
of nuts, squeezing gently.
	"Harder than that," Jim snarled, then grunted as Brian knocked him
back.
	I clutched his nuts hard, pulling them sharply away from his body.
He let out a wavering whine and fell to his knees, pulling us down on top
of him.
	He pushed himself up with a sob, his face stricken.
	"Papa!  They're killing him.  We have to do something," he panted.
	The sound of a phone ringing interrupted him.
	Jim ran to answer it while Brian tried to sort himself out.
	"Gene has a new cub?" he gasped.
	"Yeah.  Keith," I supplied.
	"I'm guessing they didn't cover their tracks too well.  Whoever
shot him was looking for his son," he said with a shudder.
	Kip locked eyes with me.
	"What can we do?" he asked.
	"We go help him," Brian said.
	"Brian...," Paul began.
	"He's not dead.  And what will happen when they realize it?  When
they see his wounds healing?"
	We looked at each other, hearing the truth in his words.
	"We stopped to see him on the way here.  We know where his place
is," Kip said.
	"Then what are we waiting for?" Brian said.
	"You're staying here," Paul said.
	Brian turned to glare at him.
	"Why?" he asked calmly, his fists clenching.
	"I don't think it will be pleasant," Paul said.
	"What?  You don't think I can take care of myself," Brian growled.
	"I know you can," Paul said, grabbing his arms.  "But we had to
practically take you down just now.  I don't want to lose you."
	"And I can deal with losing you?" Brian cried in a tight voice.
"If something were to happen, I want us to be together."
	Paul looked at me helplessly.
	"Brian, you haven't been a bear for long.  I don't think you're
ready for something like this," I said as Jim walked in carrying his phone.
	"Grandpapa!" Brian shouted, turning to him.  "They won't listen to
me.  Maybe they'll listen to him."
	He grimaced and when his eyes opened them, they were a bright
green.
	"Boys," said a familiar voice from his lips.  "You have to go now.
And you're going to need him."
	"Papa?" I whispered.
	"Hello, Mark.  We don't have much time."
	Jim held out his phone.
	"I'm too far away to get there in time," came Grandpapa's voice.
"I'd rather Brian wasn't exposed to this yet, but we don't have much
choice.  Now go!"
	"I'm going to call Mike," Jim said.  "I didn't bring my guns with
me.  Know Mike's got some.  We might need 'em."
	"Mike with a gun," Brian said, with a shudder.  "There's a scary
thought."
	"What about you?" I asked skeptically.
	"This used to be a hunting lodge for a reason," Brian said as we
tramped upstairs.
	He hunted up his keys as we grabbed our clothes.  He went to one of
the few bare walls in the livingroom and slid a panel aside, revealing a
gun safe.
	"Huh," Paul snorted.  "When were you going to mention that?"
	"Hadn't really come up," Brian answered as he open the door.  "And
to be perfectly honest, I hadn't really thought about it.  Haven't been
hunting in years."
	He pulled out a couple of rifles and handed them to Paul.
	"Will these work?" he said, looking down at his papa.
	"You know, I'm glad you're on our side," Paul chuckled.
	"Check them over for me," he said, pulling out a couple of boxes of
ammo.  "I'm going to get some clothes on."
	He locked the door and slid the panel closed before heading toward
the bedrooms.



	"Are you sure about this?" Paul asked when he walked into our room.
	I took a deep breath, remembering what it felt like to have bullets
cutting into my flesh.
	"No," I admitted.  "But I...we have to do this.  Even if they just
left him for dead, they're still looking for Keith.  And if they find him,
even if they realize it's him....  They said he hasn't changed yet.  What
would happen when they see it happen?"
	"I'd rather not think about it," he said as he pulled out a pair of
jeans.
	It didn't take a mind reader to know how worried he was.
	"So how're you liking papahood?" I asked as I pulled a t-shirt over
my head.
	"So far, I think it's going to be the end of me," he said with a
sigh.
	"Sorry?" I asked.
	"For making you my cub?" he said as I pulled up my jeans.
	He stepped up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist.
	"Never," he whispered, stuffing my cock down the leg.  "Just sorry
you had to see this side of us so soon."
	"Regardless, this would be happening even if we hadn't met.  But
then, there might not be anyone who could help them in time."
	"But are you sure you'll be able to control yourself," he said
anxiously.  "I hate to have to point this out, but you went a bit berserk
down there."
	I closed my eyes at the reminder.  I have always had to keep my
emotions under tight control, especially the last few years.  The thought
that I might lose it completely frightened me, but it wasn't going to stop
me.
	"I...I don't know, but what choice do we have?" I asked as I pulled
a flat box out of my drawer.  I hooked my blades to my belt.
	"What's that?" he asked.
	"Used to be pretty good with these," I said, sliding one of the
weighted blades out of its sheath.  "Quieter than a gun."
	"You ever used those on someone?" he asked uneasily.
	"No," I admitted.  "Just targets."
	"And if you have to use them on someone?" he asked, turning me to
face him.
	I took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes.
	"I will do what I have to."