A Teaspoon of Spice

When Pressure Finally Cracks

After the whole fiasco that was your training session with Junkrat- You didn't want to step foot outside again.

Everything that moved made you want to go feral- a small twitch of a foot made you think of prey, and a gesture of the hand made your teeth clack together with the tension in your body.

A day passed, and the full moon was tomorrow- so technically, you still had this last day to be cage free. How you wished you could still control yourself- you used to revel in the day of a full moon, relaxing as your other form, and having reasonable thoughts and conversations with family.

Mcree was lucky to have control. He didn't have to go into a cage. He just had to lounge about in his room and watch TV or something. Because he was going to be cognitive enough to watch TV.

It made you want to tear your fur out.

But unfortunately, no matter how much you dreamed about the days you were with your pack, and how much control you had over yourself, you just... didn't have that type of self authority anymore.

You'd have to wait in a cage.

And if you wanted to eat, you would have to step outside of your room.

Which you finally did when Mcree came knocking, asking if you were hungry for breakfast. Not a second of sleep, and there you were, walking with your wolf buddy to go eat all of the damn ham that they decided to put out on the buffet.

You were starving.

Moseying up, you put a bunch of your meat on your plate, before freezing as you smelt a familiar scent. Lifeless. The back burner smell of a spice that you finally recognized as cinnamon. After the whiff of his blood you got yesterday, his scent was ten times more prominent to you.

Grabbing your meat, you scurried out of the breakfast room and back to your room.

Mcree followed a few minutes after you settled down, watching with a confused look as your shoveled bacon and ham down your gullet with a passion.

"What was that?" He said, cross legged on your floor as you threw your blankets around yourself and continued to shoveled ham in your face.

"I don'm mow..." You murmer, mouth so full of ham that Mcree looked even more confused.

"Repeat that for me darl'?"

Huffing, you swallowed, "I don't knooow..." The nervous look on your face told the cowboy that you did know, and you knew that he knew you knew, but by Jove you didn't want to spit it out. The shame that you briefly cracked the day before made you feel like a welp all over again.

"Something tells me you do know." Mcree voiced, crossing his arms and taking a piece of his own bacon and briefly biting it.

"Fuck- yes I do-" You dragged your hands down your face, "But I don't want to tell- I want to bottle it up inside and let it all out when I inevitably turn tomorrow."

Mcree frowned, "No. Bad idea pup- Telling me now will keep your wolf from going even more batshit then it will tomorrow."

With that, you both went silent. Mcree, as always playing the waiting game. The waiting game that let you gather your thoughts into some semblance of a coherent sentence.