AN: **Guys, Don't kill me... I'm taking another break after this chapter. I need time to plan out the last and final 10 (maybe 15) chapters. The last thing I want is for it to be rushed and upset the lovely people who have supported me.***
They didn't go in right away.
The infirmary sat at the edge of the campus like an ominous totem. Its windows glowed a sterile, too-bright white against the academy's darkened architecture.
It looked the same as it always did, clean, quiet, controlled, but Danny knew better.
He knew what happened behind closed doors when the administration wasn't watching.
Or maybe they were and just didn't care.
He lingered just outside the entrance, pacing once, then again, like he was trying to wear a path into the stone beneath his feet.
Pippa watched him closely, not saying anything at first.
But then his steps slowed before coming to a halt.
His shoulders pulled in just slightly, his breath hitched, not matching the cold air around them.
Winter was storming, but Pippa knew that the slight shiver of Danny's body had nothing to do with the biting winds.
"Danny?" she asked softly.
He didn't answer, almost as if he didn't hear her. Or like she wasn't even there at all.
His gaze had gone unfocused, fixed somewhere past the glass door, somewhere inside.
The lights.
The beds.
The smell.
It came back all at once.
Too bright.
Too clean.
Too quiet.
The way they'd talked about him like he wasn't there.
Like he couldn't hear them.
He won't last the night.
No point wasting resources.
Just keep him comfortable.
His fingers curled into his palms, nails sinking into his skin.
"Danny," Pippa said again, stepping closer this time. Her voice was barely above a whisper so as not to startle him.
He blinked hard, dragging himself back into the present.
"I'm fine," he muttered.
She didn't believe him, not for a second.
"How did you know what I was going to ask?" She stood there for a moment, watching his expression.
A beat passed between them, the silence almost suffocating.
He exhaled sharply through his nose, dragging a hand through his hair. "I just—" He cut himself off, jaw tightening.
He couldn't bring himself to admit what had happened, as if admitting it would make it too real.
But Pippa waited patiently, not rushing him. She could see the conflict in his eyes, and forcing him to speak would only make it worse.
"They didn't think I was going to make it," he said finally, voice lower now. "When I was in there."
Her expression softened immediately, guilt pooling in her stomach, because at some point... she didn't think he was going to make it either.
"They didn't say it outright," he continued, staring at the ground now. "But you could tell. The way they stopped trying. The way they talked around me instead of to me."
His throat tightened.
"They weren't exactly… gentle about it."
Pippa swallowed, reaching a hand out to rest gently on his arm.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly.
He shrugged, like it didn't matter. Pretending like it didn't still sit somewhere under his skin.
"It's whatever," he muttered. "I lived."
But the way he said it, like it had been an inconvenience to them to do their jobs, made something twist in her chest.
She hesitated, her mind already moving ahead, searching for a safer option, a cleaner solution. Something that didn't involve him walking back into a place that had already decided he didn't matter.
"We don't have to do this," she said. "I can go get Thorn. She could—"
"No."
The word came out fast.
Immediate.
Firm in a way that didn't leave room for negotiation.
Danny shook his head, already taking a step back like the idea itself was something he needed distance from, something he couldn't even entertain without losing his footing.
"No," he repeated, quieter but just as certain. "I'm not putting this on her."
Pippa frowned slightly. "But Danny—"
"This is personal, Pippa," he cut in. "They left me in there like I didn't matter. Like I was already gone, and I know for a fact they're thinking the same way about the other wolves in there."
His jaw clenched, the muscle ticking faintly as his nostrils flared, something darker slipping through the cracks of his usual easygoing demeanor. It wasn't just frustration.
It was anger.
"I'm not doing that to them. I'm not letting anyone make them believe they aren't worth the trouble."
The silence that followed felt different.
Charged.
Pippa studied him for a moment, really studied him, like she was seeing something she hadn't fully registered before.
Danny, the one who joked too much, who never seemed to take anything seriously, who made everything lighter just by existing, wasn't joking right now.
Not even a little.
And that told her everything she needed to know.
Going back into the infirmary mattered.
More than she had realized.
More than he'd probably ever admit outright.
"Okay," she said softly. "Then we do it your way."
Danny exhaled a long, shuddering breath. Some of the tension left his shoulders, not gone, but manageable now, like a wound that had stopped bleeding.
"So," Pippa continued, slipping back into problem-solving mode, "we need a way in."
She glanced toward the sterile glass doors, then back at him.
"I've been watching the nurses for a while now," she added, a casual confession that held the weight of her obsession since they stole the blood pouches. "There's one who leaves for lunch around this time. She's actually like religious about it."
Danny followed her gaze. "You're thinking…"
"I shift into her," Pippa said, the plan unfolding with terrifying clarity. "Get inside, send the other nurse on a fabricated break, then let you in through the side entrance."
He blinked, his eyes widening in genuine surprise. "…You can do that?"
She gave him a look. "Yeah, I've been practicing."
"…Okay, that's actually kind of terrifying," he admitted, a flicker of his usual humor returning, albeit strained.
Pippa smirked faintly. "You'll be fine."
They moved into position, slipping behind one of the stone pillars near the entrance, melting into the shadows where they wouldn't be seen from inside.
They didn't have to wait long.
The nurse Pippa had been watching stepped out, adjusting her coat, already halfway distracted as she checked her phone and headed down the path toward the main campus.
Pippa watched her go, her gaze tracking her like a predator.
Then turned back towards Danny.
"Showtime."
Before he could respond, Pippa started to shift.
It didn't happen all at once.
It never did.
Pippa's body seized first, her breath catching sharply in her throat as if something had reached inside her and pulled tight. Her spine arched, a strangled sound escaping her as her shoulders jerked backward, and then came the crack.
Loud, sharp, and unmistakable.
Danny flinched instinctively, his hands lifting like he could stop it, as he should stop it, but he didn't.
He couldn't.
He had never been around Pippa as she shifted; it wasn't something she could do until she got the suppression cuff off.
Pippa doubled slightly as her ribs shifted beneath her skin, the movement visible, wrong in a way that made his stomach twist. Bone pressed and realigned, her frame narrowing, lengthening in places it shouldn't, joints adjusting with a series of quiet, sickening pops.
Her breath came out uneven, teeth clenched as her jaw shifted next. subtle at first, then not at all. The shape of her face changed in increments, cheekbones rising, chin refining, nose narrowing with a soft crack that made her eyes squeeze shut.
"Jesus—" Danny whispered, half under his breath.
Her hands followed.
Fingers twitching, then stretching, tendons pulling as they reshaped, nails flattening and shortening. Even her posture shifted, the way she held herself changing as her center of gravity adjusted to something that wasn't quite her anymore.
Her skin, which was the worst part, rippled.
Not dramatically, not like a tear, but like something moving just beneath the surface, rearranging itself cell by cell until the tone, the texture, the age of it matched someone else entirely.
Her breathing steadied, a stable rhythm to ease the slight pain of transforming in this way.
Until it stopped.
Where Pippa had been standing, the nurse stood instead.
Same height.
Same face.
Same everything.
Even the way she held her shoulders, the slight forward tilt of her head, it was all there.
A perfect copy.
Danny stared, not even bothering to hide his surprise this time.
"…Okay," he said after a second, his voice quieter now, something like awe creeping in despite everything. "That's—"
"Don't," she snapped, though her voice wasn't quite her own anymore. It matched the nurse's perfectly. The tone, pitch, and cadence. It was uncanny.
But there was still a faint edge of breathlessness under it, like the shift had taken more out of her than she wanted to admit.
Danny raised his hands slightly. "I was gonna say impressive, Pip..."
"Save it," she muttered, rolling her shoulders once, testing the fit of the body like it was a coat she needed to settle into.
For a second, she just stood there. Adjusting to the new body she was in.
Then she straightened fully, slipping into the nurse's posture like she'd been wearing it her whole life.
"Stay here," she said, already turning toward the door. "Wait for my signal."
Danny nodded, still staring a little longer than he should have.
"…Yeah," he said. "Right."
Pippa didn't wait for anything else; she just pushed the door open and walked inside as if she belonged there, like she'd done this a hundred times, like nothing about this was out of place.
She caught the other nurse's eye at the front desk.
The woman paused mid-motion and looked at her.
Pippa's stomach dropped.
Shit. She knows.
"Hey," the nurse said slowly, brows pulling together as she leaned slightly against the counter. "I thought you… weren't you just—?"
"Turns out there's a last-minute shift change," Pippa said quickly, the words coming out smoother than she felt. "They asked me to cover."
The nurse frowned slightly, clearly trying to piece it together, her gaze flicking over Pippa's face like she was checking for something that didn't quite line up.
Pippa held her breath.
Didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Then, the woman relaxed.
"Right. Yeah. That does make sense, it is the new quarter…" The nurse said, more to herself than to Pippa, already turning back toward the desk.
Relief didn't hit just yet, not while the nurse was still there.
"I was going to head out in a bit," the nurse continued, reaching for her bag, which hung off the back of her chair. The strap caught slightly, and she tugged it free with a small huff, already distracted again. "Should I check the schedule first?"
Pippa shook her head immediately, forcing her voice to stay even. "No, you should go. I've got it."
The nurse hesitated for another half-second.
Then shrugged.
"Okay," she said, slinging the bag over her shoulder. "I'll be back in thirty."
The nurse moved around the desk, grabbing her phone off the counter and stuffing it into her purse as she walked, keys jangling softly as she fished them out of one of the side pockets. She paused briefly by the coat rack near the door, pulling on her jacket and smoothing it down absentmindedly before glancing back one last time.
Pippa forced herself to meet her eyes with a calm and unbothered expression, a perfect imitation of a colleague ending a shift. Normal on the surface, while her heartbeat hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat only she could hear.
The nurse gave a small, dismissive nod and then pushed through the door, which clicked softly as it shut behind her.
The sound echoed louder than it should have.
Pippa didn't move right away.
She waited.
One second.
Then two.
Then three.
The faint sound of footsteps outside faded completely down the hall.
Only then did she exhale, slow and controlled, the tension bleeding out of her shoulders just enough to function again.
"…Okay," she whispered under her breath, the word a puff of air.
Then she turned and moved for the door, cracking it open just enough.
"Danny. Now."
He didn't hesitate; he quickly slipped inside.
And froze.
The room was exactly how he remembered it. Too white. Too quiet. Too many beds. Too many people lying in them, their faces pale and drawn, a gallery of suffering.
The wolves noticed him almost immediately.
Heads turned. Eyes widened. The low murmur of the room died.
"Danny?"
"How are you—?"
"What the hell—?"
Voices started overlapping, confusion rising like a tide.
He lifted his hands, a placating gesture. "Hey—hey, we don't have time to explain."
That didn't stop them.
"How are you walking right now?"
"Weren't you—?"
"Seriously, what the hell—?"
"I said we don't have time," he snapped, sharper now, cutting through the noise. "But we have something that's going to help."
That got their attention.
Not full trust, but enough.
He moved to the nearest bed, pulling the fabric of the infirmary gown up just enough to expose the wolf's side, the skin clammy and cool.
"Just...trust me, okay?"
The wolf blinked, his eyes clouded with pain. "With what?"
Danny didn't answer.
He just started drawing.
The rune.
Slowly and carefully.
Exactly the way Xavier had shown them.
Seconds passed, and nothing happened.
Danny's stomach dropped.
"Shit—" he muttered. "Did I—"
Then the wolf inhaled sharply.
Deep.
Too deep.
Like it was the first real breath he'd taken in days.
His body jerked upright slightly, eyes wide. With color slowly returning to his skin.
"What the hell did you just do?"
Danny blinked.
Then grinned, just a little. "Magic."
Across the room, Pippa caught his eye.
He gave her a look.
It worked.
Danny didn't linger once the first rune took hold. The second he saw the change, the deeper breath, the way tension eased from rigid shoulders, the flicker of life returning to dulled eyes, he was already moving to the next bed.
"Hold still," he murmured, already pulling back the thin hospital blanket.
The young wolf didn't argue.
She was too tired.
Too desperate for some relief, for even a little bit of help.
Some of them were barely conscious, their bodies caught in that strange, in-between state where they weren't fully human, but not fully transformed either. Their skin felt too warm under his hands, pulses uneven, breathing shallow like something inside them was fighting to stay anchored.
Pippa was on the other side of the room, her attention on a freshman wolf.
"Start here," she muttered under her breath, more to herself than to them, tracing the first line slowly across a ribcage. "Anchor it first…" she continued, her hand shaking.
The marker dragged across skin with a soft, dry sound, the ink settling quickly, clean and dark.
They didn't dare rush the runes themselves.
Even now.
Even with the clock ticking in the back of their minds.
Because they couldn't afford to get it wrong.
"Is it supposed to burn?" one of them asked, voice tight.
Danny glanced up briefly. "A little," he admitted. "That means it's working."
The wolf clenched her jaw but nodded, letting him finish.
"Oh—" she exhaled, almost laughing. "Oh, that's—"
Danny didn't wait for her to finish her sentence.
They fell into a rhythm after that.
They moved faster.
Not sloppier, because the sigils still demanded accuracy, but with more certainty.
Now, with much more confident with every success.
The infirmary itself felt different now.
Less like a place waiting for something to die, and more like something being pulled back to life.
Until the door opened.
Pippa's head snapped up.
The nurse was back early.
Her eyes narrowed immediately.
"Sorry, I forgot my—" she started, then stopped. Looked at Pippa. Really looked this time. Something wasn't right. The energy was wrong. The air was thick with something she couldn't name.
Pippa felt it like a physical blow.
"Is everything okay?" the nurse asked slowly, stepping closer, her professional suspicion hardening into something more.
Danny dropped.
Straight to the floor.
Sliding under the nearest bed just as the nurse's gaze swept the room again, her eyes lingering on the spot he'd just occupied.
Pippa forced a smile that felt like cracking glass. "Of course. Just a bit of a... dizzy spell. One of the patients."
The nurse didn't buy it. Not for a second.
She took another step forward. "I think I'm going to call Mrs. Dallarosa," she said, her voice tightening. "Just to—"
Suddenly, a howl ripped through the room.
Loud and sharp.
One of the wolves collapsed out of bed, his body hitting the floor hard as he clutched his side.
Another followed.
Then another.
The sound echoed off the walls, filling the space with chaos.
The nurse flinched, hands flying to her ears as the noise overwhelmed everything else.
"Jesus—what is happening—"
Her attention snapped away, eyes closed as the howling just got louder. Each wolf piling on.
Pippa didn't hesitate.
She moved.
Fast.
Ripping the door open just enough for Danny to scramble out from under the bed and bolt for the exit.
They ran down the hall and past classroom doors.
Not stopping until they slammed into the nearest bathroom, the door locked behind them with a sharp click.
Silence.
Their breathing was fast and unsteady.
Pippa leaned back against the wall, hands shaking slightly as the adrenaline started to crash, her borrowed face still perfectly composed in a way that didn't match the panic unraveling underneath it.
For a second, she just stayed like that.
Forcing herself to keep the shape together.
Then it slipped, as her breath hitched sharply, and her fingers curled against the tile as her body seized.
"Pippa?" Danny started, stepping forward instinctively.
"I'm okay," she said softly, cutting him off before he could get too close.
Because it was already happening.
The shift back was worse.
It always was.
Her shoulders jerked forward as something deep in her spine pulled tight, then snapped back into place with a sharp, audible crack that echoed in the small bathroom.
She choked on the sound, pressing a hand to the wall as her knees buckled slightly.
Bone shifted again, quieter this time, but no less wrong.
Her ribcage compressed, then expanded, reshaping in uneven, staggered movements that made her breathing hitch between each adjustment. Her jaw clenched as her face began to change, features softening, reshaping, sliding back into something familiar in small, painful increments.
Danny stood there, frozen for half a second, watching, forcing himself to stay still.
To let her do it on her own, because he was unable to help.
Her hands trembled as her fingers shortened slightly, the tension in them releasing all at once like something snapping back into place.
Thankfully, it stopped, like a storm losing its edge.
Pippa sagged against the wall, her head dropping forward as her hair fell back into its usual shape, curls loosening around her face as the last remnants of the nurse's form disappeared completely.
She was herself again.
But it had cost her.
Her breathing came in uneven bursts, her chest rising and falling too quickly as she tried to steady it, her hands still shaking slightly where they pressed against the tile.
"…I hate that part," she muttered weakly, her voice finally her own again.
Danny let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, stepping closer now, slower this time.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "I can see why."
She let out a shaky huff of a laugh, dragging a hand down her face, smearing away the last of the tension.
"…Did I fuck up?" she asked, her voice breaking just a little.
"What?" Danny tilted his head in confusion.
"We almost got caught—"
"But we didn't."
She let out a shaky breath, "They're going to know something's wrong."
"They already did," he said gently. "And we still helped them."
That stopped her.
Her eyes lifted to his.
"…We helped..."
"Yeah."
Danny carefully stepped closer.
"Hey," he said softly.
She looked up fully now.
And before either of them could overthink it, before Pippa could retreat behind logic or Danny could make a joke to deflect what was happening, he lifted his hand.
Slowly.
Giving her time to stop him, to pull away, tell him this wasn't what she wanted, but she didn't.
Danny's fingers brushed her cheek, warm and steady, grounding her in a way that made her breath catch.
There was nothing rushed about it, nothing uncertain in the way he touched her, just quiet intention, like he had been waiting for this moment longer than he would ever admit out loud.
Her eyes flicked up to his, searching.
That was all he needed.
Danny leaned in, closing the space between them with a kind of care that made it feel fragile, like something that could shatter if he moved too fast, and then his lips met hers.
Soft.
Tentative at first.
Like they were both learning something new in real time.
And then, it wasn't tentative anymore.
Because it wasn't new.
Not really.
It was just… finally happening.
All the almosts.
All the glances that lingered a second too long.
All the jokes that hid something underneath.
All the jokes and light jabs from Thorn.
All the times they stood just a little too close and pretended it didn't mean anything.
It all folded into that single moment.
Pippa's hand came up without thinking, gripping the front of his shirt like she needed something to hold onto, like the world had tilted slightly under her feet and he was the only steady thing left.
Danny's other hand hovered for half a second before it settled at her waist, pulling her just a little closer.
Not enough to overwhelm.
Just enough to stay.
The kiss deepened, not urgent, not desperate, but sure like something that had been waiting patiently for years and had finally been permitted to exist.
Time didn't stop.
But it felt like it did.
The hum of the fluorescent lights.
The distant echo of footsteps in the hallway.
The fear, the plan, the chaos they had just escaped.
All of it faded into the background, completely forgotten, because for that one suspended moment, it was just them.
And it was real.
When they finally pulled apart, it wasn't sudden.
It was reluctantly slow.
Like neither of them quite wanted to let go, even if they had to.
Their foreheads hovered close, breaths still uneven, the space between them charged with something new, and something that had always been there.
Unspoken.
Until now.
Finally.