Healing the Fox
Authors: Michelle Houston
Phaze
www.phaze.com
Copyright ©2010 by Michelle Houston
First published in 2010
Also by Michelle Houston
Healing the Fox copyright 2010 by Michelle Houston
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
Scott finished filling out the admittance form for the baby rabbits that had just been brought in, then filed away the pink copy. Picking up the white and yellow copies, he headed back into the treatment room where one of the volunteers was busy working on the babies, trying to re-hydrate them and patch them up from their run-in with a cat, while at the same time not kill them. Baby rabbits were notorious for simply dying in your hands. Unable to handle the shock, their little bodies just gave out.
Shaking his head at the whole mess, Scott clipped the paperwork onto the board for the treatment room and headed down the hallway to Isolation Room 6, where the mammals were kept. He'd been waiting for just such a moment all day. Normally up to their asses in injured animals this time of year, it had been an unusually light day ever since the fox had been brought in, although that could and probably would change at any moment. The injury to the creature came from a run in with a car. The driver had left the fox lying on the side of the road with its leg broken. If the state trooper hadn't been passing by, and hadn't attended a lecture Scott gave on rehabbing injured wildlife, the fox might not have made it through the night.
Scott gritted his teeth, irritated by having to wait for a moment alone with the injured animal. As much as he loved his job, being a mentor was frustrating when another shifter came in. He couldn't risk anyone finding out his secret, or worse, thinking him insane and firing him.
So, he had to be very careful how he handled certain cases.
As he pulled the door closed behind him, he paused a moment to look out the window to make sure no one else had finished up and was heading his way. Satisfied that he was safe for the moment, he crouched down in front of the cage. The fox stared at him, almost listless from dehydration. Already twice today he had had a tube pushed down into his stomach to get water and nutrients back into his system.
"I know you're probably too out of it to understand me, but I'm going to get you out of here as soon as I can. I leave in a few hours, and since I am set up for rehab at home, I can take you with me. I just need you to hang in there a little bit longer."
Opening the cage door, Scott curled his fingers around the other shifter's head and gently scratched, letting the animal get a good whiff of his scent and testing the man's control over the beast. Shifters were always their most dangerous when injured in animal form. Instinct took center stage, and accidents can and did happen.
The last shifter he had treated was a perfect example. Two days passed before Scott found out about him, and by then the wolf had been too far gone. His human half completely surrendered to its beast after being shot, operated on, then locked in a cage. The wolf had gone insane, and Scott had to contact the nearby council to come and take him.
This time, though, he wasn't about to let that happen. This creature was one of his kind, and he wasn't about to lose the man inside to the fox. “Can do you do that for me? Hang in there?"
In response the fox shivered slightly, tipping his head into the scratching. Scott stayed with him longer than he should have, rubbing his hand over slightly bristly fur, knowing the other shifter needed touch to keep him from feeling isolated and drowning in hopelessness.
"I have to go, fella, but I will be back in just a little while. Remember, hang in there."
With a last scratch, Scott pulled his hand out of the cage and closed the door just in time. Glancing up as a shadow crossed over him, he met the gaze of one of the volunteers. He could hear her voice through the door as she called out, “Scott, I'm all done with the mice cages. Anything else you need me to do?"
Growling softly at the interruption, he spared one last glance at the now sleeping fox and then climbed to his feet to finish out his day.
Almost six hours later, he had completed the paperwork to take the fox home with him. It was frowned upon to take recently admitted animals home so soon, but with the cages quickly filling, the nature center relied on home rehabbers on more and more to juggle the overflow. Given that the fox sustained no internal injuries, and simply suffered dehydration, some bumps and bruises, and a broken leg, he was a lower priority for constant care.
Which was actually more of a blessing than normal. Not only was he not too badly injured, but the sooner Scott could get the other shifter to his place and settled in, the better all around. With space, and the comfort of another of his kind, the fox should heal quickly and be able to shift back within a few days.
With Scott being a staff member and a frequent rehabber, there really wasn't a big issue made over his taking the poor guy home with him. It also helped that Scott didn't have to be back in for another four days, thanks to the cutback in funds.
The next few days passed in a blur. Scott fed and cared for the birds in his flight pen and took care of the fox, in addition to his day-off catching up on chores. It never failed to amaze him how much laundry one man could accumulate in just ten days. Although, it probably didn't help that he had work-out clothes, work clothes, and then around the house clothes for every day.
As he was tossing another load of towels in the dryer, he couldn't help but reflect on his newest guest. The injured fox's leg was healing fairly quickly, and he had started to show some signs of spirit by the end of the second day. He even yipped a few times when Scott came into the room and didn't spend several minutes stroking his fur. It was definitely an encouraging sign that he craved the contact. Only time would tell if the human inside would remain trapped, or if he would be able to transform.
Having been there once himself, which had caused him to seek out the opportunity to volunteer at the nature center, he had a fairly good idea of what the other man must be going through. Being trapped in his animal form, unable to allow the animal free reign of the body, had to be complete hell. Injured, possibly frightened, and feeling isolated from anyone and everyone he knew, the man inside the fox had to be going stir crazy.
Only the fact that the fox didn't attack him, and responded to his voice and touch gave Scott any hope of the man's recovery. By now, he should have been up and moving around, testing the limits of his body. Instead he lay still on the bed, almost listless. Scott hoped it was simply boredom, as the man waited on the animal's leg to heal.
Grabbing the freshly laundered sheets, he headed down the hall to change out the bedding on the guest bed. Scott entered his guest room to find a naked man lying on the bed. Curled up on his side, he had his feet tucked against the backs of his legs, his hands folded between his knees. Piercing, golden eyes followed Scott's movements as he crossed the room with the laundry.
Carefully balancing himself, he knelt down beside the bed and met the shifter's gaze head-on.
"Do you remember how you got here?"
With the slightest of movements, the other man nodded. His red hair fell into his eyes with the motion, and very slowly Scott raised his hand and tucked the errant strands behind his ear. Cautious at first, he grabbed hold of the top sheet and tugged it up and over the other shifter, covering him. Although he rather enjoyed the sight of the man's body, it just seemed wrong to ogle him when he was still obviously out of it.
As near as they had been able to tell, he had been lying on the side of the road for two days, unable to get water, and unable to move out of the heat of the summer sun. Just one more day would have done him in.
"I need to take a look at your right leg. Can you extend it?"
In answer, the other shifter slid his leg out from under the sheet and held it still while Scott examined it to make sure it had healed properly. Thankfully, despite the pain he had to have been in, the other shifter had been smart enough not to attempt to shift back to his human form.
The majority of the books got it wrong in that regard. Shifting did not heal injuries. In fact, the realignment of molecules that occurred in going from one form to another could further the damage. The best option was to stay in the same form the injury happened in, and to let his heightened metabolism and immune system respond.
"It looks like everything is good. So, you should be back to normal in a few more days.” Unless, that was, his mind had taken a hike. “Do you remember your name?"
The shifter licked his lips and paused, seeming to search for the information. “Christian. Cris."
Heaving a mental sigh of relief, Scott continued to ask Cris questions, slowly pulling out the information Cris remembered from his injury and the past few days. After several minutes, he called a halt to the conversation.
"Alright then, let's get some food into your system."
Christian tried to move himself upright in the bed, but Scott ended up having to help him. As he pressed against the other man's chest, Scott tried to ignore the rush of arousal that swept over him. The man needed his care, not his lust.
Forcing that thought into the forefront of his mind, he headed to the kitchen to cook up a quick can of soup. Returning as soon as he could, he found Cris leaning back against the wall, his dark lashes shadowing his cheeks as he dozed.
Regretfully, Scott shook him awake, knowing he needed food as much as rest at this point in his recovery. As he settled several pillows behind his patient and sat down on the bed beside him, the tray settled over his lap, he watched Cris—the fluid way he moved his hands despite his exhaustion, the way his throat bobbed with each swallow, the way his lips pursed around the spoon.
Working together, they managed to get the warm soup and most of the bread into Cris before he started nodding off. By the time Cris’ soft snores filled the room, Scott was completely under his spell. Adjusting his erect cock to a more comfortable position, he headed out of the room, leaving the door open a crack where he could hear if his patient needed anything during the night.