captainryan: (Keeping an Eye Out)
[personal profile] captainryan
It's been nearly a month since Ryan came to Milliway's.
Nearly a month since he died.
He knows he's gotten somewhat soft in that time. Oh, he doesn't mean physically. Physically he's been working himself. Some 15 kilo weights in his room see an hour of use before he sleeps, and in the mornings he's up and running before most of the birds are awake, going until the sun comes up.
He's still amazed he can.
The thing is he's never sore after any of this. At least, not for long. Working with the fire for Suzi, he's burned himself a half dozen times, but doesn't bother with first aid anymore. Whatever damage is done is always healed within 24 hours, if not sooner.

No, physically he's in peak condition.

Mentally, however...he's changed, if only slightly. He's more...open. Yes, that sounds right. He's been letting people get close to him, something he's trained himself to never allow.

And no one's a better example of this than Suzi Darley.

He cares about her. Really and truly cares, and he has no idea how that happened. How he allowed her to slip past his defenses. Even worse, it isn't just Suzi. Phillippus, too, he had begun to worry about. Less so than Suzi, to be sure, but that he had actually felt concern at all was foreign to him. And to be concerned with what Lewis Nixon thought of him after he'd only met the man twice!

What was happening to him?

He's been trying to come up with an answer to that for awhile, but it wasn't until the moon began to approach again that he even began to have an inkling of what it was.
Everything we've seen suggests the behavior of a pack.
The simple fact of the matter is that he's not the man he was because he's no longer a man. Hasn't been since that night a month ago. And he's starting to suspect that the attack left him changed in more ways than one.
He can't believe this.
It all came down to instinct and the bundle of new ones he now had. Werewolves are pack animals, social by nature. Something he learned the hard way. And being a werewolf made him one as well. A subconscious urge to bond with people. The wolf's making him open up.
How dare it?!
He's angry about this. And yet...he can't reverse it. He's a werewolf now. He has to accept that this is part of him. He may not be pleased about everything that comes with it, but he has to live with it. And...it wasn't so bad, was it? There were some definite pros to his condition. Reflexes, healing, smell, endurance. It's a fair trade, isn't it? Especially when one considers that he should be dead and not here at all. If it was one of the requirements for his continued existence, he could live with that.
But why? What is his purpose here?
"It's another chance," Phillippus had said. And Belar: "This is what we do because we can, not because we have to."
He hasn't any responsibilities.
He didn't have to do anything anymore. There were no orders to follow, no expectations to fulfill. Except whatever he may set himself.
So what did he want?
Control was one thing. He would get a handle on the moon time, at least enough that there would be no repeats of the first time. Never again.
bodies hanging from meat hooks in unmarked black BDUs
Never again.

Getting Wells off his back would be nice too.

Phillippus had offered to teach him swordplay, which he definitely plans on taking up, particularly after that session with Nixon and the SA-80. He also wants to continue with the metalwork Suzi's teaching him. He may be learning jewelry, but the methods can be applied to other items as well. Who knows? Perhaps he could even make his own sword.

And as for his new found penchant for acquaintances...well, it hadn't harmed him yet. If anything, it only seems to be offering him new opportunities. As long as he didn't start chatting up every person he sees he can cope.
As long as that's as far as it goes.
Live and learn, after all.
It's not like he has much choice.

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captainryan

August 2009

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