Clogs for Paws

[Brian knows] Leaving Home Ain't Easy [, but he really wants John to leave]

Brian stood next to a little red phone booth a the street corner a couple of blocks down from Freddie's flat. He was soaking wet from the downpour of the rain and the tears that streamed down his face. His once slicked back hair hung heavily on either side of his face. He couldn't help but crinkle his nose at the smell of a wet dog that leaked from his skin. Sure, he felt miserable, but he needed a moment to think in the fresh air (or as fresh as London city air can get.)

"Brian?" yelled a voice behind him. Brian turned around to see Roger running in the rain to him. The man's blonde hair grew darker as raindrops sprinkled down on it and his fancy jacket screamed for mercy in the wet air.

The Lycan was torn. I want to be left alone, but I feel so lonely, Brian thought. Before he had a chance to run away again, his friend was in front of him and gazed into his eyes with worry.

"Are you okay? You ran off into the storm. And what is that godawful smell?" Roger asked.

Brian sighed, "The smell is me. I smell bad when I get wet like a dog, apparently."

"Oh," Roger said, "Sorry about that. It really isn't too bad. I've certainly smelled worse. But you still haven't answered my first question."

"I'm fine," Brian said.

Roger arched an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. "'I'm fine' my ass," he retorted.

Brian's shoulder slumped and he admitted, "I'm really not fine."

Roger asked, "Wanna talk about it? I know I might not seem like it, but I fancy myself a good listener."

"Thank you, Rog," Brian said, "But you don't have to listen to me grumble."

"No, but I get to," Roger responded.

Brian took a deep breath and exploded, "I just don't get it! Freddie opened his arms and his house to the wolf that almost cost us all of our lives. The hunters, which he is the reason for, attacked us all the way here. Hell, I fucking changed species because of him!"

Roger opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but he quickly slammed it shut again.

"Seeing him here, John, or whatever the fuck he is called, is like living it all over again," Brian continued.

"Living what again?" Roger asked.

"Being bitten by him. I almost lost my arm," Brian clarified, "And shifting too. You have no idea what it is like to have your humanity stripped away from you each night and become a fucking monster."

Roger's baby blue eyes looked at Brian broken. His friend studied his face with a look of worry like Brian's mum did when he was ill. Roger let out a soft sigh and looked out onto the rainy street.

Brian felt himself instinctively take a step closer to Roger and continued, "And why would he come now? After almost two damn months? How dare he!"

He knew the answer. Poor lad couldn't come because of school until he transferred, Brian thought, but still. The absolute nerve of that bloody poohead.

Without a word, Roger gave Brian a hug and refused to let go. Reluctantly, Brian wrapped his arms around his friend and buried his head in his shoulder and inhaled the sweet scent of security and something else. What is that other smell? Brian wondered, I like it. It is so Roger. Brian patted Roger's back and broke the hug. Roger's hands slowly retracted off of Brian, and Roger held Brian's arms.

"If you ever need anything, I am here," Roger said, "And I'll just listen if you need it."

"Thank you," Brian said as he watched a raindrop slide onto Roger's lips. The Lycan quickly diverted his gaze and rubbed the back of his neck.

"At the very least, him being in the band will help us keep an eye on the ol' chap, eh?" Roger asked.

Brian nodded. I'm sure that I can find something not terrible in this somehow, he thought, though I wish I had Roger's optimism.