by Brightbear
Rating: PG-13 for language
Summary: Post-movie AU. After a night of celebration, a drunken Pierce and Taylor are forced to flee from vampyres.
Author's Note : Thanks to blackkoda who beta’d.
Disclaimer: Underworld and its characters are not mine but the property of some very talented people.
* * *
Pierce shifted his weight and tried to rearrange his pillow. His pillow growled. Opening one eye, he was confronted with a giant mass of stained white. He propped himself upright and recognised the whiteness as a shirt and his pillow as Taylor. The other Lycan was glaring at him irritably.
They had both collapsed in a booth in the bar where they’d been celebrating after Michael’s marriage to Selene. Pierce sat upright and nearly cracked his skull on the side of the table. Wincing, he caught sight of Raze pursuing a large black woman through the crowd. She was encouraging him with overt looks over her shoulder. She wasn’t looking at Raze’s face.
Taylor pulled himself upright and looked around with the intensity that only the truly drunk could manage.
“Where’s the puppy and his bitch?” he complained at last.
“Lucian had some bloody great surprise planned,” said Pierce. “And Selene ain’t a true bitch.”
“What else d’ya call a wolf’s mate?”
“I dunno,” Pierce shrugged. “But she don’t like bitch.”
Taylor rolled his eyes and flopped back against the seat. Pierce stood up and wobbled slightly. He propelled himself across the room to the bar, grabbed two beers and managed to return again without dropping them. A feat which was aided by sipping from the glasses to reduce the liquid.
Taylor frowned at the half-full glass and the wet trail Pierce had left.
“Fucking hell, you’re drunk,” he observed.
“No more than you,” said Pierce, nearly missing the seat as he sat down.
His eyes fell upon Raze exiting the bar, following close on the heels of the interested woman. With a brief nod to Lucian at the bar, Raze disappeared outside.
“Raze’ll get some tonight,” said Pierce.
Taylor peered past him, “Lucky bastard. Why aren’t we?”
“Cos he’s still co… coharant,” Pierce frowned as he sought the right word. “Cohiriant? Uses words.”
“Coherent bastard,” supplied Taylor glumly.
“Exactly!”
Leaving his own place by the bar, Lucian had watched his lieutenant exit with a determined distraction. He couldn’t blame the black Lycan for his eagerness, but felt it important that Raze knew not to go too far. The alley would be far enough if the girl was as willing as she seemed. Heading to the door, Lucian looked outside and what he saw made him jerk back inside.
“Taylor…” began Pierce, noting the look of alarm on his Master’s features.
“They call female cats queens,” said Taylor thoughtfully, not having noticed Lucian’s actions. “You think Selene’d like that?”
Lucian moved quickly from booth to booth, speaking to the remaining Lycans in a low tone. Fortunately, most of the Lycans had either moved onto other bars or had returned to the sewers for the night. At his words, four Lycans in varying stages of drunkenness headed towards the bar’s emergency exit. Lucian approached Pierce and Taylor last.
“Taylor…” said Pierce again as Lucian neared their booth.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Taylor continued obliviously. “Bad idea. Calling Selene a queen might go to her head.”
“For fuck’s sake, Taylor,” snapped Pierce. “Pay attention!”
Taylor bristled but before he could speak, Lucian was standing before them.
“Vampyres,” said Lucian briskly. “Coming this way.”
Pierce sprang to his feet with a slight sway. Lucian eyed him dubiously, remembering why some had argued against celebrating the wedding above ground.
“Are you sober enough to flee?” he asked.
“Not on two legs,” said Taylor, clinging onto the back of the chair.
“Course he is,” said Pierce quickly. “May ‘ave to carry him a little way but we’ll manage.”
He dragged Taylor forward by one arm. Lucian seized Taylor’s other arm before Taylor could fall flat on his face. Scowling at his drunken packmate who seemed more likely to flee consciousness than death-dealers, Lucian hissed.
“Quickly!”
The three of them stumbled out of the exit and into the alleyway where Taylor promptly collapsed onto his knees.
“Taylor,” said Pierce, digging his fingernails into his friend’s arm. “We have to move.”
“It’ll be fucking easier on four legs,” spat Taylor, trying to think through the alcoholic haze.
“We can’t transform,” snapped Pierce. “It’s not safe for Lucian and we can’t leave him alone.”
Taylor glanced to Lucian whose attention was fixed on the door back into the bar. The Lycan Master’s silver-darkened veins could just be glimpsed through his mane of hair.
“We don’t know what will happen if Lucian transforms…” whispered Taylor uncertainly, hoping Lucian couldn’t hear them.
“Michael said not to risk it and we’re not,” said Pierce. “That’s final. So, get off your ass.”
Taylor grudgingly allowed Pierce to haul him upright.
“I don’t think they saw us,” hissed Lucian.
Pierce shared an uneasy look with Taylor. The Lycan Master’s eyes were dilated and he moved his feet restlessly. It was obvious that Pierce and Taylor hadn’t been the only ones drinking. Pierce feared that if the vampyres attacked, Lucian might do something foolish.
“Let’s get out of here,” said Pierce.
“Right,” said Lucian, although he remained where he was for a moment as if hungry for the fight.
Rational thought seemed to win out and Lucian lowered his head before turning back to face them.
Pierce sighed in relief and hoped it wasn’t too obvious. Lucian slid his arm around Taylor and took on some of the weight. They made their way down the alley, Pierce and Lucian supporting Taylor between them. There was a manhole on the road at the end of the alley. Heading straight for it, they emerged into the street cautiously. The street seemed deserted. The only cars were parked and the parts of the street illuminated by the flickering streetlamps were empty.
Lucian dragged the manhole cover away, looking around angrily at the shadows at every noise. Pierce unceremoniously dumped Taylor down the manhole to the sewer below before turning back to his leader.
“Lucian,” said Pierce. “After you.”
Lucian wasn’t listening. His attention was fixed on something moving in the alley on the other side of the street. He began to walk towards it.
“Lucian,” hissed Pierce, staring after his emboldened Master in panic.
He looked down helplessly at Taylor but his drunken friend looked at him in puzzlement, unable to see what Lucian was doing. Pierce dreaded to leave Taylor helpless but he couldn’t choose not to follow Lucian either.
Lucian drew a pistol from beneath his shirt and approached a dumpster in the alleyway. Drawing his own gun, Pierce knew he was far too drunk to hit anything but followed his leader anyway.
Lucian pulled open the dumpster and pointed his gun inside. He then sighed and lowered the pistol. Holding out his hand, he started to help one of the younger Lycans out of the her hiding place in the dumpster. The Lycan woman wouldn’t meet Lucian’s eyes and hid her face behind a tangle of matted hair. With the embarrassed Lycan clearly not much of threat, Pierce looked around the alleyway. He wondered if any of the other drunken Lycans had made it much further from the bar.
Suddenly, Lucian seized the girl by the wrist. He pushed her back into the dumpster and dived in after her. Pierce was puzzled until he heard the boot steps behind him. He turned to see two vampyres standing in the alleyway behind the bar. As they raised their guns, one of them sneered at Pierce.
“What have we here?” The vampyre hissed through his fangs. “A lonely Lycan? Where have all your friends gone?”
Pierce carefully made sure he did not look towards the dumpster where Lucian and the girl were hiding.
“Why don’t you come down and find out, vampyre?” Pierce snapped back, ducking as guns were raised.
As the vampyres opened fire, he dove towards the manhole. Silver bullets stung and sizzled where they hit him but their sharp pain was better than the slow and fatal burning of silver nitrate. He landed hard on top of Taylor.
“What the fuck…” began Taylor, the sound of gunfire more than enough to force his mind into action as he pushed free of his friend’s weight.
Pierce stood and dragged Taylor to his feet roughly.
“Transform. Now,” shouted Pierce, shedding his clothing as he stumbled away down the tunnel. “Fucking vampyres!”
“What about Lucian,” said Taylor, staggering after him.
“Just do it,” answered Pierce.
Taylor didn’t bother to remove his clothing. Instead, he snarled and dropped to all fours as his bones began to break and stretch. His clothes burst as his body darkened, swelled and changed. A naked Pierce kept running, still digging the silver bullets out with his fingers, as his own transformation began. He heard a low howl coming from behind him that echoed along the sewer tunnel and then Taylor overtook him in wolf form.
One of the vampyres dropped smoothly down the manhole, guns raised. He surveyed his surroundings cautiously. By the time the vampyre caught sight of Pierce, the Lycan had transformed and shot off down the tunnel. He turned a corner as the silver bullets began to explode around him.
Pierce could smell Taylor ahead. The other werewolf’s howls echoed deafeningly along the sewers, making it almost impossible for him to be tracked by sound alone. The momentum of Pierce’s flight propelled him up the walls as he turned the corners. His only coherent thought was to keep drawing the vampyres further away from Lucian. Any attempt to return would only endanger the Lycan Master.
“Byron, wait for backup,” yelled a voice.
The steady footsteps of a pursuing vampyre clearly flagged Byron’s disregard of the advice. Pierce howled tauntingly, summoning Bryon to a fool’s death. He slowed his strides and before long the vampyre began to close the gap between them.
Pierce reached a point where the sewer opened out into a larger chamber. He came to an abrupt stop and climbed up the sewer wall to perch above the opening. The vampyre’s footsteps came closer and then stopped. They resumed again cautiously and the tip of a pistol appeared out of the opening. Pierce tensed, ready to spring as soon as the vampyre was out in the open.
Instead, the vampyre stepped back into the entrance and Pierce silenced the growl of frustration that threatened to break free. Surely, he thought, the vampyre had run too long a distance just to give up. There was a sharp click and Pierce watched in horror as a small metallic object bounced out of the entranceway and into the chamber.
Pierce scrambled towards the ceiling as the grenade bounced across the concrete. The grenade went off, hurling debris and fire throughout the chamber. Heat singed Pierce’s fur and shards of concrete peppered him. His grip on the wall slipped and he fell back towards the floor. He landed hard on the rubble, howling in pain.
The vampyre, Bryon approached through the clearing smoke.
“Stupid animal,” the vampyre sneered in disdain, raising his gun at Pierce’s head.
Pierce snarled his defiance at the loaded gun. An answering roar echoed from the tunnel as Taylor leapt at Byron. Bryon’s gun slid across the floor and Taylor silenced the vampyre’s final hiss with a bite from his massive jaws.
A silence fell that hung thickly around Pierce’s heavy breathing. Stepping over the mauled body, Taylor approached Pierce wearily as the adrenaline began to wear off. Taylor’s snout quivered and sniffed as he approached, seeking reassurance that Pierce was still alive.
Great clawed hands gripped Pierce’s shoulders and Taylor buried his nose in Pierce’s fur. Pierce allowed himself to be held and moved his arms experimentally. Small cuts and shrapnel wounds stung lightly but there were no serious injuries. He wrapped his arms around Taylor in return.
He felt Taylor’s bones crack and change beneath his hands. The vibrations were familiar and oddly comforting for all the pain they brought. Taylor shrank back into human form, his cheek sliding from Pierce’s neck down to his chest. Pierce remained in wolf-form, savouring the way his powerful arms could completely enfold Taylor. He’d tried in his human form but his hands would only ever just touch.
Between the attack and the alcohol, Taylor was still breathing heavily. His head was pressed against Pierce’s chest and his now-human hands clutched Pierce’s shoulders. Pierce let his transformation begin, shutting his eyes and embracing the rush that came with the brief agony.
They were sitting with human chest pressed to human chest and their heads more or less level. Taylor sighed contentedly and let his head flop onto Pierce’s shoulder.
“Lycanthropy…” muttered Taylor. “Fucking best cure for drunkenness. Ever.”
“Eh,” said Pierce.
He meant to say ‘yes’ but from the way Taylor’s grip loosened, he figured the message had been understood.
The next second, Taylor’s grip tightened again and Pierce opened his eyes to look at the top of the other man’s head in puzzlement. Taylor kept his face turned away and began to mumble.
“Earlier…” said Taylor. “…couldn’t stand up… you were almost killed… Pierce…stupid… me, not you… I’m sorry… sorry.”
Pierce felt tremors running through the other man’s naked body as the weight of what had almost happened struck him. He wanted to say that it wasn’t Taylor’s fault since he hadn’t been sober himself but the words caught in his throat.
Instead, Pierce hugged Taylor to him fiercely. He rested his own head on Taylor’s shoulder.
“Pierce,” said Taylor, strength returning to his voice. “I… you know.”
“You’re my best mate,” said Pierce gruffly.
“I’ll fucking kill anyone who touches you,” spat Taylor.
Knowing the anger wasn’t directed at him, Pierce clutched the other man tighter. He must have been hurting Taylor but there was no complaint.
“Pierce?” said Taylor, sounding a little uncertain. “You know… Don’t you?”
“More than a mate,” said Pierce levelly. “Yeah, I know. Always did.”
Taylor relaxed and the two of them sat in silence until a tired but unscathed Lucian came to find them. If he thought it strange to find them both naked and embracing, he said nothing but Pierce fancied that there was a knowing smile on the older man’s lips when they returned to the lair that morning.
THE END
