Solitude (Discontinued)

Chapter 11 - A Saint No More

"Why can't we kill him, he's killed more than his fair share."

"Because Merrick, he's friends with the Saints. It'd be in our best interest to keep him alive-"

"Louis you're too damn soft, we should kill him right now and be done with it-"

"Enough now. I think he's waking up."

Lance felt his eyes fluttering open, it was an effort just to open them. When Lance finally opened his eyes he saw two figures standing over him, Lance tried blinking his eyes into focus but it just wasn't happening. One of the figures reached down and Lance flinched away, the figure paused for a moment and placed a rough but gentle hand on Lance's forehead.

"Well it seems your fever has come down quite a bit," the figure said in an old rough voice, Lance tried to respond but only managed a groaning noise which made the figure laugh. "Don't rush yourself, you'll have plenty of time to talk later-"

"I say he should start trying to talk, than he can explain to us why he attacked our pack," the second figure said in a voice that held obvious anger. "Than maybe I'll let him live depending on his excuse."

Lance's vision finally began to clear up and he was able to make out the two familiar faces, the slightly wrinkled face of Louis, and the battle scarred face of Merrick. Lance sat up and shot backwards hitting his head hard on something hard, Lance gave a cry of pain as his hand shot to the back of his head rubbing it while Merrick laughed at him. At that moment Lance noticed he wasn't wearing a shirt and there were long jagged wounds all over his chest, each of which had been stitched shut. Lance out his hand on one without thinking and winced as pain flared from his chest.

"What a fool," Merrick said half annoyed and half amused. "Touching fresh wounds like that, of course they'll hurt."

"Merrick must you be so cruel to our guest," Louis said calmly to Merrick.

"Guest my ass," Merrick snapped and gave Lance a fiery look. "He attacked us Louis. Or have you forgotten already, and remember he nearly killed your mate-"

"I'm aware of that Merrick," Louis said in a cold voice that instantly silenced Merrick. "But we managed to save everyone he infected, as well as his own life. If you ever want to be known as a great leader Merrick, you need to think of the bigger picture. This boy is a friend of the Saints, the mark he wears proves that-"

"Actually," Lance interrupted the two quarreling leaders, and they both turned their gazes on him making Lance feel small and fragile. "I left the Saints in hopes of joining your pack-"

"Why should we let you join us after you attacked us," Merrick demanded his golden eyes blazing with anger. "Louis, you have no reason to stop me from killing him now. You heard him he left the Saints-'

"To join us," Louis finished flatly. "However since you deny him entry into the Los Lobos, I grant him entry into the Wolfhounds."

"You can't do that," Merrick roared and grabbed Louis by the collar of his white dress shirt. "The Wolfhounds are part of the Los Lobos, and as such I have the final word about who can and who can't join-"

"The Los Lobos and the Wolfhounds are allies," Louis said calmly removing Merrick's hand. "The Wolfhounds are still very much their own pack, therefore you have no say over who joins my pack. I won't let you kill this boy Merrick, he may have left the Saints but he still has their ears. They'll listen to him should he decide to speak for us."

Merrick snarled and looked at Lance who was still pressed up against the wall. "Fine," was all Merrick said before stalking out of the room they were in.