packs aren't always of the same species (a WayHaught au)

peanut

You were pacing. You didn't usually pace, normally you were all calm, cool and collected. Sometimes you got a little angry, sometimes the wolf had something to say, but usually you were the poster child for composure. You had your outward appearance perfected to a tee. Your father drilled the look of confidence into you early on and you've been faking it for everyone else ever since. Even in the academy and your years in law enforcement, even through ranger training. But apparently having someone, who has been trying to kill you, chained up in your basement was something that really bothered you.

It was nerve-racking. It wasn't ideal, nor was it very ethical, but neither was trying to kill you for no reason, so really it was a matter of who was the bigger evil here. You knew, without a doubt, that Ewan Allenbach would consider you the bad guy, and past you would agree. But now, thinking back, you wanted to believe it was the unconscious man in your basement, who was the villain.

Dolls wouldn't say how he managed to capture Ewan or get him back to the cabin. You figured it didn't really matter in the end, as long as you got something useful out of him when he woke up. Dolls was currently keeping watch over him in the vault, the cage locked and the handcuffs still tight around his wrists. You weren't allowed down there until you calmed down.

The rest of the gang was just playing the waiting game. Waverly was sitting on the floor, mounds of paper and her laptop open on a long wooden crate acting as a coffee table, after your previous one was destroyed in the break-in, Wynonna was half hanging off the loveseat, looking bored out of her mind, twirling her sidearm around her long index finger, focused intently on the movement. Eliza was sitting in a chair in the corner, her eyes closed, her gun grasped securely in her hand, probably not actually anywhere near sleep. Jeremy was in the corner, trying to rig up a way to get an old television set to work, while Rosita sat at your kitchen table, reading through a stack of papers. And Doc, Doc was just standing near the front window, his hands resting on his belt, hat on his head, unlit cigarette hanging from his lips, and eyes intently focused on the treeline, keeping watch for any other murderers in dark cloaks.

When Dolls eventually did call you down into the vault, with the news that Ewan had finally woken up, you were prepared with the file Waverly put together on him earlier, the evidence bags containing the flag he left behind and the arrow, and as a last minute sort of 'fuck you', you grabbed the bag with Jack's "specialty" knife. You descended the stairs slowly and at the bottom Dolls clapped you on the shoulder and left you to handle the interrogation by yourself, with a promise to have your back if you simply called. You didn't expect any less, the man was almost loyal to a fault.

With just you and Ewan in the vault, the atmosphere was vastly different. Now that Dolls was gone, the air almost felt stiff, suffocating. The wolf didn't like it. She was on edge from the second she laid eyes on Ewan, now that you were alone with him, she was almost panicked. Something didn't feel right.

Maybe you should learn to listen to the wolf more often, but Ewan was chained and locked in a werewolf-proof cage. He was the equivalent of a single ant trapped under a glass. He was harmless. He wasn't going anywhere.

Unlocking the cage put you at a greater risk, but he was still chained. You weren't going to make that mistake.

Stepping into the cage, you closed the door behind you, hearing the lock slide into place once again. The wolf's anxiety level skyrocketed, but you ignored her. With the door closed, the both of you locked inside the cage, Ewan at least wouldn't be able to hurt the others if something happened. Wordlessly, you placed the evidence bags with the flag and the arrow down in front of him on the concrete, keeping the knife tucked away inside the folder still in your hands. Ewan didn't react - he didn't say anything, he barely glanced away from where his eyes had been locked to you from the minute you came into view. You tried to match his nonchalance by leaning a shoulder against the door to the cage, but you were gripping the folder too tight, your shoulders were too tense, your breathing was more ragged than you would have liked. You were a bit on edge and the wolf wasn't making it any easier to tamper the feeling down.