Planes had become a way of life for Seth after he joined WWE. On the indie circuit, most of his travel had been done by car—usually rentals or beaters that sounded like they wouldn't survive the next corner, let alone cross state lines—but he had grown accustomed to flights. On some occasions, WWE even arranged for helicopters to take wrestlers to special events. Even that didn't compare to the plane Vida had arranged. He knew Isabelle had called it a medivac, so he had been expecting some small plane with minimal seating. As long as it gets Becky where she needs to go, he had told himself, it doesn't matter.
The plane was small, at least compared to those in commercial fleets, but that was the only expectation of Seth's that was met. The interior was high-tech and somehow elegant, even though it was full of medical equipment. There was enough seating for ten people, so both Nelson and Lorenzo were stretched out and sleeping. Isabelle's seat was empty most of the time, because she was usually attending to Becky. "Should she be sleeping this long?" he asked, gripping his phone. He needed to hear a familiar voice, but he wasn't sure if it was safe to make a call.
The witch nodded as she removed an empty intravenous bag and replaced it with one filled with a bubbling silvery liquid. "If she can rest, yes. It will make it easier for her body to focus on healing. It's not a medically induced coma," Isabelle clarified. "But it is similar."
Seth held up his phone. "Can I—?"
The rest of his question was cut off by a series of loud thumps. Another of the feature of the plane that was unusual was its holding area. Vida was clearly prepared for unruly werewolves or unexpected transformations, because there were two holding cells at the rear of the plane. Even over the pumped-in air and the whir of the engine, Maggie's tirade could be heard. Nelson and Lorenzo, who had apprehended her, were so used to it that it didn't faze them, but it still irritated Seth. How was it fair that Maggie was awake and aware and so full of energy while Becky was pale and battered on the gurney, strapped down in case of turbulence? "Ignore her," Isabelle advised. "You had a question?"
"I do," Seth replied, rising to his feet and shoving his phone in his pocket, "but I'm tired of listening to her whining." As he strode to the back, he added, "What's the code for the door?"
The witch dropped the empty intravenous bag to the floor and hurried after Seth. "You don't want to do this," she counselled.
"Oh, I very much do." Seth hesitated at the door that led to the holding cells. "The code?"
Isabelle held his gaze for a moment, and he realized her eyes weren't blue at all, but a pale green that reminded him of one of Sasha's favourite crystals. "I won't stop you. You're an adult and you can accept the consequences of your actions." She stepped in front of Seth and, shielding the keypad with her body, entered the code so quickly he couldn't even hear the beeps. "I will let you in once. Only once. And I will remind you that werewolf justice is as sharp as your teeth. Vida will make sure Maggie is dealt with appropriately."
Seth snorted softly as he followed Isabelle to the cells. There was no storage back there, nothing for a potential captive to use as a weapon. The lighting was recessed and dim, but still enough for him to see Maggie throwing herself at her cell door. "I think she and I may have define appropriately somewhat differently."
"Fucking coward!" Maggie spat, trying to reach for him through the bars of her cell. "You're so scared of your wolf that you won't join a pack. You play-fight with pathetic little humans for a living because you can't handle a fight against a wolf. You fuck stupid little human whores because yo—"
Before Isabelle could react, Seth grabbed Maggie's outstretched arms and bent them backwards so quickly that her shoulders dislocated. As Maggie's knees wobbled from the pain, he smashed each arm against the bars over and over, listening to the snap of bones over and over. "You're the coward," Seth hissed, shoving her to the floor where she crumpled in a piteous heap. "And you better hope Vida's in charge of your punishment, because you sure as fuck don't want it to be up to me."
"Seth." Isabelle grabbed his arm and tugged him out of the holding area, then shoved him into the bathroom. "Clean yourself up," she ordered sharply. "If Becky wakes up, she doesn't need to see you like this. Get yourself together."
Seth didn't know what she meant until he looked in the bathroom mirror. His first thought was that, like the rest of the plane, the bathroom was surprisingly elegant; he had been in houses that had smaller bathrooms. Then he noticed the blood splatter on his face. As he splashed water on his face, he saw more blood on his hands and arms. She didn't bleed that much, he thought, partly confused but mostly defensive. Once he was cleaned up, Seth stepped back into the corridor. "Thank you," he said tersely. An apology was probably in order too, but he couldn't quite make himself form one yet.
Isabelle nodded sharply. "You had a question?"
The simple question took Seth aback. He hadn't gone back to the cells planning to break Maggie's arms, but hearing her rants while Becky was clinging to life made something snap inside him. It was quicker than the transformation from human to wolf and far more brutal, and now he felt like he was going to vomit. "Right. Uh. Phones... can we use them?"
The witch steered him back to his seat. When Lorenzo stirred and started to sit up, she waved him off. "If you mean in terms of safety, yes. Vida has the plane equipped for that. Who did you want to call?"
"Just... my brothers. Well, they're friends, but they're like brothers...." Seth went over to Becky and held her hand. She had always seemed small next to him, but now she almost looked like a doll. "I just need a friendly voice, you know? No offence."
"I know what you mean." Isabelle picked up the empty intravenous bag and tucked it in a garbage bin secured beneath the gurney. "These friends—brothers—do they know what you are?"
Seth nodded. "Yes. They were with me the first time I met Vida and Hayden and...." He didn't even want to think of Maggie's name anymore. "They've known for a while. They're... they're my pack. My boss was worried that I had no support on the road, so he formed a faction for me. The Shield."
"The Shield." Isabelle nodded slowly. "I think my niece likes them. She watches wrestling while she's doing her homework. Says the theme songs make it easy to know when her favourites are out."
"So can I call them?" Seth asked. "Or text? I'll have to think of something to tell my boss to explain why Becky and I aren't at the event, but... Dean and Roman, they need to know." They were just at the start of their time off, so they had a couple days before their next scheduled event, but he knew there was no way Becky would be healed in time.
"Go ahead. I can't offer you any more privacy than the bathroom, unfortunately," Isabelle added, "but Nelson and Lorenzo would be able to hear you in there anyway."
Seth shook his head. "I don't need privacy. I just need...." Reassurance. Comfort. Familiarity. Isabelle, Nelson, and Lorenzo had all been helpful and kind, but it wasn't the same as being around people he knew. It had nothing to do with being a werewolf and everything with trust. "I won't be long." He called Roman first out of habit, and then realized he had no idea what time it was. The last time he looked up at the flight status monitor, it looked like they were over halfway to California, but he wasn't sure where they were at the moment.
"Hey, man. What's up?" Roman's voice was light and friendly, and the steadiness of it made Seth almost sink to his knees with relief.
"Becky—" Her name came out like a sob and growl rolled into one. Seth wasn't sure how he wanted to start the conversation, but it certainly wasn't with crying. "Um, she was attacked—"
"Where are you?" Seth could hear Roman standing abruptly and a chair tottering in his wake. "Davenport? I'll get Galina to start looking for Chicago flights while I pack—"
"No. No, Roman, I appreciate it," Seth said wearily, "but there's nothing you can do." He went to Becky's gurney and stood by her head, stroking her hair more for his benefit than hers. "It... it was a werewolf and we're on our way to California so she can see a doctor and...." There was so much to say and Seth didn't know where to begin.
"A werewolf? Where? How?" Roman seemed to be settling down somewhat, but Seth appreciated his fervour. Becky was almost universally loved by the roster, and there weren't many people who wouldn't jump into action to help her.
Seth was grateful Roman didn't ask where he was when it happened. His guilt was already eating him up. "It's... one of the younger werewolves from that pack I met with. She had a crush on me or some delusional anti-human thing, I don't know. Both, maybe."
It was a testament to the gravity of the situation that Roman didn't tease him about the crush. "So how's Becks doing?"
"She's... stable right now, but...." The tears were stinging his eyes so badly and Seth swore as they started to course down his cheeks. He didn't care about appearances; he just didn't want to upset Becky. "She's bitten all over, man. Neck, arms, stomach, legs. I don't know... I don't know if...."
"What can I do?" Roman asked softly. "You said you were going to California, right? I can head out there, no problem."
"Not yet." That somehow felt like admitting defeat, having Becky's friends fly in to be at her side. "I still have to call Dean and then Hunter, because there's no way Becks will be able to wrestle in a few days and I...."
"You're staying with her," Roman said firmly. "I can deal with Hunter for you. Everything taken care of at home?"
Home. Seth had been so proud of his house. It had been one of his first big adult purchases, not a frivolous luxury. It was a way to invest in his community, put down roots, give himself some structure. And now he wasn't sure he could step foot inside it ever again. All the cleaning in the world wouldn't be able to banish the memory of Becky's blood pooling in the living room, her body sprawled on the kitchen floor. The two of them had made countless happy memories there, but the sheer horror that happened there would be impossible to forget. "Mom was picking up Darrell, and Leighla already had Kevin. The house...." Seth shut his eyes. "Shit, man. There was blood everywhere...."
"She was attacked at the house?" Roman swore softly. "I'm so sorry, man."
"It's my fault," Seth muttered. "I was selfish and I never thought of how dangerous it was for Becky to be with me and—"
"No." Seth knew the voice was too soft to be Roman's, so he assumed it was Isabelle at first. So much for trying to offer privacy, he thought bitterly. Then he felt a flutter of movement by his hand and looked down to see Becky's fingers grasping at his. "Not your fault," Becky croaked. Her neck was swaddled in a poultice that was splotched with dried blood, and it seemed to muffle her voice.
"Hey. Hey, you should be resting." Seth leaned down and kissed her gently.
Becky pointed shakily to his phone. "Roman?"
Seth nodded and brought the phone to her ear. "He was going to come to California," he added, "but I told him to wait."
"Roman?" Becky could barely open her mouth enough to form words. "Tell him... not his fault."
"I will, Becks." Seth heard Roman's voice clearly and was sure everyone else on the plane could too, but he didn't care. "You stay strong and focus on healing, okay? We'll all be praying for you. We all love you."
"Love you too." Becky's fingers tightened around Seth's and her legs started to thrash.
Seth quickly stepped aside to give Isabelle room to work. "Hold on, Roman." Setting his phone down, Seth inched closer. "What's going on?"
"In human terms, her painkillers are wearing off." Isabelle poured a thin, purple liquid into an intravenous bag, hooked it up to the pole, and attached it to her existing line. As soon as the purple oozed into her veins, Becky's body almost immediately slackened. Glancing up at the flight monitor, Isabelle grimaced. "I didn't want to have to use that so soon, but...."
Seth edged back to his phone. "Roman, I gotta go."
"Of course. Call when you can, no matter what time. If you want, I can call Dean and tell him what you told me so that's out of the way," Roman offered.
"Thanks. I appreciate it." Seth was starting to feel curiously numb, and he wondered if it was denial trying to take root. That couldn't possibly be Becky on the gurney. It couldn't possibly be his house that looked like a murder scene.
"We're here for you, man. I love you. Don't forget to take care of yourself too," Roman said gently. "Get some rest when you can."
"Yeah. I'll... I'll try. Love you." Seth disconnected absently and slid his phone into his pocket before sitting in the spot closest to Becky's gurney, resting his head on her calf. Her lower legs had escaped the worst of the damage and he stroked them gently, hoping she knew he was there. Given that he was the reason she had almost died, however, he wasn't sure how much of a comfort that would be.