There's a Monster at the End of This Book

Title: Shark! 3/4
Author: ghostyouknow27 / ghostyouknow
Artist: scarletscarlet / scarlet_bee
Pairings: Misha/Jared, Jared and Jensen
Word Count: 5800 (this section)
** For warnings, disclaimers, ratings, and other fun stuff, please see the Masterpost**

“You're not stupid,” Jensen said. “Misha's stupid.”

“He has a Ph.D.”

“In stupidity.” Jensen handed Jared a beer. They were at Jared's because, well, Jared. He wasn't much of a bar hopper. Thumping acoustics made him mouthy. “He couldn't even figure out that we're not shark poachers. How do we look like shark poachers? If we were, why would we carry our catch back to your apartment? You'd think we'd need a lot of space for refrigeration, plus some way to transport the damn fish. What kind of idiot barges in on poachers, anyway?”

“Misha gets, um, protective,” Jared said. “He figured it out when I vomited on his shoes.”

“That's beautiful, man. But all I'm seeing is a guy who loses his head and takes risks, and that's not someone you can be around.” Jensen sat down on Jared's couch. “You don't think he'll do anything, do you? Now that he knows you're not going to strap a camera on your fins and go find Spanish gold?”

Jared snorted. “He was more interested in learning how sharks fuck.”

Jensen's face twisted. “You … don't ever see a lady shark and want to hit that, do you?”

“No. Why would you even ask?”

“Is it because you're still gay when you're a shark?”

“The shark wants to eat seals. I honestly think that's about it.” Jared hadn't seen white sharks have sex – he avoided the real great whites because they were territorial and occasionally ate each other – but he'd seen blue sharks going at it. It wasn't pretty. If they were human, they'd either be dead or in jail.

“I stand by my original opinion. Misha's got a fetish. He wants to jump your claspers.” Jensen took another swallow of his beer. “How do you know he even really researches sharks? Maybe he's just a crazy guy who stands on a boat and pokes them with sticks.”

Crap. How much more zealous would Misha get, if he came across a dead white shark and thought it might be Jared? Would it make a difference? Maybe not. It wasn't like Misha had ever been reasonable when it came to people hurting sharks.

Jared sat next to Jensen. “Maybe Misha's not crazy, but me trying to be with him was. I don't know why I thought it wasn't insane in the first place.”

“You don't? Jared, you started turning into a shark right in front of him, and he didn't run away screaming. I didn't even manage that much.” Jensen thumped Jared's shoulder. “You just need to develop some higher standards. Also, it might be a good idea to avoid people obsessed with sharks.”

Because normal humans would be jumping up and down to be with a wereshark. It was a good thing Jared was gay and unlikely to have kids; otherwise, his hypothetical wife would be stuck trying to explain to her hypothetical doctor why Jared's babies were eating each other in her womb.

“We can't all land someone like Danneel.”

Jensen blushed. He was so hung up on his girlfriend, it was ridiculous. Jared worried, sometimes, about what would happen if – make that when – Jensen proposed? It was one thing if your boyfriend and his best friend had a mysterious man-activity planned every month. It was another if your husband couldn't ever be around those few days, even if it was your honeymoon, even if the kids had the flu. Jared had been lucky to find someone like Jensen in the first place. He couldn't expect him to put his whole life on hold.

“Do you think I should take a boat out on the full moon, so I don't have to swim in and out from shore?” Jared asked.

“It sounds like an okay plan to me. Why? You want to try something like that this next moon? I wouldn't mind some late-night fishing, as long as you don't eat any hooks.” The time Jared had stumbled home with a fish hook poking through the corner of his mouth was not a good memory for either of them. At least he'd yet to swallow one.

Jared realized that the boat plan would mean a lot more work for Jensen. “Nah. But maybe it's something we could think about for some other time? At least I've done a pretty good job of not eating any people so far.”

“Knock on wood.” Jensen said. “I mean that. Knock on wood right now.”

Jared knocked on the coffee table, feeling sick. It wasn't funny. He shouldn't joke. “You know I'm way more scared of that than anyone else, don't you?”

“I know. I also know that if it does happen, it'll be on accident. You're not a psycho.”

No, but Jared was a shark, and his intentions wouldn't matter to the person he hurt.

He wondered sometimes about the shark who'd bitten him. Who were they? Did they think the world needed another wereshark? Had they mistaken Jared for a seal? That would make them pretty dumb, since seals didn't live in Texas.

Jared hadn't fought. He hadn't known what was happening until he was paddling toward shore, streaming red.

The doctors talked about miracles. It was a miracle the shark bit Jared where he wouldn't lose his leg. It was a miracle he healed up as fast as he did, with only half of the surgeries originally prescribed. No one talked about how 'miraculous' the attack was in the first place – bull sharks and tiger sharks, sure – but a great white? Jared had been the only victim in the state's whole history.

Jared chewed his lip for a moment. “I think the real problem with Misha is that I can't forget the shark when he's around. He's always talking about sharks, even when he's not talking about mine. I'm even talking sharks with you, man.”

Jensen shrugged. “Pick a small animal vet next time. At least they'd know how to stitch you up.”

“Vets tend to like and keep pets. Small animals loathe and fear me.”

“Then a nurse or, I dunno, a computer programmer. Someone who walks the fine line between 'can handle it' and 'gets off on it.' Oh, and before I forget, Danni wanted me to tell you she's having some friends over next Saturday. I'll be grilling. I could put some … mushrooms or something on that thing. Veggie burgers?” Jensen had fed Jared plenty of times before, but he always pretended that he had no idea how to feed a vegetarian. “I made her promise not to set you up with any of her weirdo friends.”

Jared hugged him, hard and impulsive, like the old him might have.

“Whoa, watch the beer.” But Jensen didn't sound pissed. “You're scaring me, man.”

Jared released him. “I just loved hearing that Danni's friends are too weird for me.”

 

“It was a bull shark,” Misha said.

Jared snuffled into his pillow, his phone clamped to his ear. His mind was still readjusting, and since tonight was the night of the full moon, it probably wouldn't bother readjusting too much or especially well. “Huh?”

“The attack yesterday evening. It was a bull shark. We're too far north for them, but ocean temperatures are a little warmer than usual for the season. Actually, a great white would have been the more normal thing. But it wasn't a white.”

Jared snapped to attention. “There was an attack?”

“It wasn't you. One of my colleagues did the ID on the dentition.” Misha paused. “I didn't want you to worry that you'd hurt someone, and I wanted to make sure you knew to be careful. The original media reports said 'may have been a great white shark,' because they knew there'd been a fatal shark attack and mentioning Jaws is the best way to scare up attention. Hunting whites is illegal, but that won't stop assholes looking to kill every big shark they see.”

“I can't be careful when I'm a shark,” Jared said, before he could think better of it.

Misha inhaled. “Try.”

Jared remembered who he was talking to. “Don't do stupid things, Misha. You getting a bullet through your brain won't help any sharks, and this is California. There aren't going to be thousands of boats going out to kill sharks. Greenpeace would lose its shit.”

“I'm not an eco-terrorist,” Misha said, coolly. “Though I understand where you got that impression.”

“Yeah, from you terrorizing me.” Jared rubbed his stomach and felt a low rumble of discontent that wasn't quite his own. He hadn't eaten well last night. The seals must have been speeding along. “I'm sorry. I'm glad you called. If I'd heard it was a great white, I would've been a mess.”

“You're welcome.” Misha seemed reluctant to hang up. “I am going to be on the boat tonight. Not – not because of you. It's for my work, and I'll be alone, if you would like me to get you out –”

“I don't think that's a good idea.” Also, Jared wasn't convinced that there was a real reason for Misha to be out on his boat on the night of the full moon without one of his graduate student minions. “Why are you going out alone at night? Is anyone going to know where you are? Nothing about that seems safe, Mish.”

“Gen had something tonight, and I know what I'm doing. This isn't anything risky, like a night dive. If not tonight … do you think we could get together after the full moon? I'm not asking for anything. I just – I'd like to talk.”

Jared knew Misha wasn't actually dangerous – he'd seen him clingy in bed, snorting soda from laughter – and agreeing to meet him would probably end in post-breakup sex. But he also knew that his condition was the biggest draw for Misha, that a 100 percent human Jared wouldn't have warranted more than some 'sorry I thought you were a poacher' fuck, and he couldn't deal with that.

He remembered the one time he'd seen Misha around actual, live sharks. It was at the aquarium where Misha volunteered. A shark talk had run late, requiring Jared to enter the building and hunt down Misha. He'd been annoyed. Jared didn't like sharks or being forced to see sharks. He'd still noticed Misha's intense focus, like something inside him had cooled and calmed and slotted into place.

Misha wanted kids to love sharks. He wanted everyone in the whole wide world to love sharks. Jared couldn't.

“Stay safe,” Misha said, instead of 'goodbye.'

Jared's silence had spoken for him.

“Jared!” That was Jensen, who'd let himself in. “Are you okay?”

“I should probably go tell Jensen the stuff about the bull –” Jared stopped talking. Misha had finally ended the call.

 

Jared woke up underwater. He panicked for a moment. Then he realized that he was breathing just fine, which meant that he was still a shark.

He sensed a pleasing vibration. Also, blood.

Seal? Hurt seal?

Jared cut through the water way too easily, considering his thinking self shouldn't know what to do with fins, and moved toward the bottom so he could look up and see what was happening. There was a shadow near the surface – a silhouette against dappled moonbeams. It appeared to be struggling. The shark wanted to gum it – We need to test whether or not it's a seal! – and the thought didn't make Jared as queasy as he would've liked.

His human brain recognized that there were two boats, in addition to the suspected seal. Jared had a bad feeling about this.

But his hunger pulled at him, and he circled and watched, considering the wisdom of an ambush. He felt his mind start to slip back –

He felt a bump against his gills. He swerved and snapped, barely missing some dark, agile thing that kept moving beyond Jared's reach. Seal! Seal! The shark hadn't eaten, and it was started to get a little pissed that some dumb mammal was teasing it. It wants to be eaten! Why aren't we eating it?

Bang!

There was a noise above the water, followed by a splash, followed by a lot more splashing. Also, blood.

Blood.

The seal bolted for the surface, and part of Jared wanted to follow it. Then again, the new, wounded thing would be an easier meal. Jared shook his head, mad at himself. His human mind never surfaced while he was a shark, much less during the full moon. There had to be a reason –

The seal circled back –

But a seal couldn't hurt Jared, and without the element of surprise, he'd never catch it. He drifted up –

Something scraped by his pectoral fin. He saw what he hadn't been able to before: a baited hook, hanging from a long rope. Someone was trailing a long line. Or collecting one. Were they throwing out the reject species? If Jared followed the line's length, he'd probably find otters, seals (Seals!), all kinds of fish, other sharks, all tangled in the rope or caught on barbed hooks –

Jared needed to get out of here. Maybe that's why he had woken: The shark realized it needed someone with enough brains to go, 'Hey, so getting caught on a longline probably isn't the best way to die.'

The blood-smell grew stronger. There was something hurt up there, and Jared would probably enjoy eating it. But it was dark, and he couldn't see enough to identify the species. The shark was pretty sure it could solve the mystery with a test bite, but Jared's teeth weren't designed for gentle nibbles. He swam beneath the second, smaller boat, not-quite satisfying himself with a few chomps at the propeller.

The seal was messing around with the other thing. The bleeding thing.

When the second boat started moving, Jared couldn't resist any longer. Maybe if he could see it from the surface –

He popped his head up over the waves and peered through the moonlight. There was a seal, alright. It appeared to be attacking a human being.

Who just happened to be Misha.

Jared … might have lost it for a second.

The next thought that occurred to him was that maybe rushing Misha at twenty miles per hour would not mean good things. He adjusted his trajectory, but that still meant bumping Misha's side. He heard Misha yip, and his heart constricted. He needed to get Misha out of the water, because splashing and bleeding were two sure ways to draw real sharks, some of which were bigger than Jared, and also there were barbed hooks in the water –

Also, he needed to eat the psychotic seal.

Who now seemed to be dragging Misha by his collar?

Something odd was going on.

Misha, for his part, seemed to have given up on fighting off the seal. He was staring at Jared, his eyes huge and black in his white face. His mouth was a tight line, either due to the pain or anticipation. Was he expecting Jared to attack him?

God, he'd wanted to nibble on Misha, like that wouldn't result in amputation. The combination of seal plus blood wasn't exactly hurting his appetite, either. It was Jared versus his animal instincts, and while the shark didn't want to eat humans (no blubber!), it was getting overexcited. There was splashing! And blood! Jared's caudal fin wagged happily before he exerted enough control to stop it.

Misha shook himself and started swimming, suddenly, a kicking backstroke that didn't do much to dislodge the seal, which was just as well, since it seemed to want Misha back on the boat. His boat? Jared hadn't ever seen Misha's boat. He didn't know its name.

It was far too easy to piece together what had happened. Misha had come across people illegally fishing; Misha had been an idiot about it; Misha had gotten himself shot.

Suddenly, Jared kinda did want to bite him.

That wasn't something he could afford to think while still a shark.

He rammed forward, keeping his mouth shut but propelling Misha forward with his conical snout. He pushed him right against the boat, perhaps a little vigorously, since Misha's head slammed against its side. The seal barked and dove at Jared's eyes. He thrashed until his body slid beneath Misha's feet and he could push him out of the water.

Misha clawed himself up over the boat's side, using a combination of his good arm and Jared's frantic bumps.

The seal porpoised out of the water, landing in the boat.

Jared banged himself against its side and snapped at the boat's swim step. What if the seal was hurting Misha? Seals were terrible, awful, juicy creatures, and Jared was going to eat every last one of them –

A naked woman leaned over the boat's edge.

Jared mouthed the boat's side, just so she could see his teeth.

Her hair dripped over her shoulders. She didn't seem too concerned. “What the fuck, asshole?”

Jared rolled his eyes back a couple times in quick succession, because there was a wet, naked woman on the boat with Misha, and she was apparently the type of person who liked to call sharks names. Where the fuck was she when Misha was getting shot?

A funny feeling zipped up Jared's lateral lines.

“Gen?” Misha asked, from somewhere Jared couldn't see him.

She turned away. “Stay there, Misha, and keep pressure on your goddamn arm! You were shot, and a shark just finished throwing you around! You could have a concussion or broken ribs, and I can't do first-aid and drive the fucking boat!”

“It's okay. I'm pretty sure the shark's my ex.” Misha giggled, and then abruptly stopped. “Gen, the line. We can't just leave it –”

“We need to get you to a hospital.” Gen moved out of sight. Jared felt the vibrations of her steps.

Suddenly, Jared was launching out of the water and using his arms – he had arms, now – to pull himself up the side of the boat. It rocked – he wasn't down to human size – and then he was flopping on the deck while he fought to breathe and couldn't because his equipment was on the fritz and a naked human-shaped wereseal was screeching at him while Misha's blood stung his nostrils.

He gulped for air, gills and chest heaving. He turned his head to see Misha staring at him, his expression unreadable.

Jared shuddered and shook as his limbs shrank down and something popped inside, enabling him to breathe. He didn't know that he could change back before the moon was done, but he had, and he grabbed for Misha, who had stripped off his shirt and pressed it to his upper arm. “I thought you were a seal, you ass! I could've eaten you! What the Hell were you thinking?”

Misha grinned. “Why, Jared. What big teeth you have.”

“Shut up.” Jared fumbled to apply pressure over Misha's own hand.

“They had a dead shark,” Misha said, as blood pulsed hot against Jared's palms. “I may have attempted to board their boat.”

“At night? In the middle of the ocean? What the fuck is wrong with you? Don't you care if you die?” Jared remembered the damage he'd done. “I'm sorry. Misha. Oh, God. I thought she was killing you.”

Gen had gone to the wheel. She started the boat. “I'm a sea lion! It's not like we've got a rep for killing people! Why the fuck were you hunting in these coordinates in the first place? You could've eaten someone! You're lucky I'm just going to report you.”

The boat started moving fast through the water; Jared hoped Gen knew where she was, because it was dark, and they were too far out to see lights on the shore.

“Report me?” Jared asked. “Who are you? The wereshark police?”

Misha laughed, high and loud.

“Not that you're any less stupid, Mish. God, this is the Jared? You've been moping over a fucking shark? Fucking kill me now.” Gen bared her teeth at Jared. “That wasn't an invitation. I will bite out your eyeballs.”

The existence of wereseals, sea lions, whatever, was not something Jared could handle right now, so he put his hand over Misha's wound and glared down at him. “So much for your no-risk research.”

Misha leaned up and kissed him. Hard. His good arm clawed at Jared's back, and he attempted to pretzel his legs over Jared's naked hips. “You scared the fuck out of me.”

Jared was pretty sure this wasn't a normal reaction to having been shot by poachers and attacked by a shark, unless Jensen had been right about the fetish thing. He tried to push Misha off, but there seemed to be some kind of magical suction at work, and he couldn't disengage. “Uh, Misha?”

“There was a shark on the line. Beautiful animal. Nowhere near your size. Then the poachers showed up, and I kept thinking it could've been you there, once.” Misha bit Jared's ear. “Have I told you how much I love your arms? I could write odes to your arms. Keep them for a little longer, will you?”

Jared tried to pat down Misha's ribs. “Are you hurt anywhere beside the gunshot wound?”

God. Oh God. Someone had pulled out a gun and shot Misha.

Misha wiggled his hips. “Gen's an awful person and also a liar. I never moped over you.”

“I followed you around tonight because I knew you were going to get yourself into trouble. I am naked, and I am trying to get you to shore so you don't die from your own idiocy,” Gen said. “I fought off a shark for you.”

“She's my beloved mentee,” Misha amended. “I need to do something life affirming right now.”

“You need to not bleed to death.” Jared cupped the back of Misha's head. “We'll get coffee after you're all fixed up, okay? We'll fight because lightning kills more people than sharks and vending machines kill more people than sharks –”

“Don't forget autoerotic asphyxiation and Black Friday shopping.” Gen's voice snapped in the wind. “Also, gunshot wounds. How's the bleeding?”

Before Jared could stop him, Misha slipped away and lifted the makeshift bandage. “The wound seems to have disappeared.”

“What?” Gen could get really high-pitched.

“Uh, it's still there. There's a lot of blood, but I have no idea how to tell if the bullet hit an artery.” Jared put pressure back on Misha's shoulder.

“Yay for me,” Misha said.

Gen shouted over the boat's noise. “Sometimes, not always, someone who's bitten on the full moon will have rapid healing. It means they've been turned, and turning someone at random is not a good idea. It breaks, like, 15 billion laws. Normally, there's counseling and paperwork and rituals, if you're into that – it's a big deal, is what I'm saying. We'd be in a load of shit.” She paused. “Being totally fucking delirious is another sign.”

“I'm a little sleepy,” Misha reported. “My head hurts, and my ribs hurt, and I'm cold. I still have all my body parts, though, so I doubt Jared bit me.”

“You'll be okay.” Jared needed that to be true.

“I didn't want to be bitten,” Misha said. “Does that make me an asshole? I kept saying I didn't think it was so bad to be a shark, but it's not something I wanted for myself. Do you believe me? Do you hate me? I'm always a little worried that you don't like me all that much. I'm such an ass, and I was terrible to you when we met. You should have gotten a restraining order. You should've shot me.”

Jared's heart pounded in his jaw, in his hands. He realized he was shaking. He'd stopped being a shark, mentally and then physically, during the height of the full moon. That had to have been for Misha, because something in Jared recognized things he wasn't ready to admit.

If Misha wasn't just looking for a pet shark or a set of gills … if there was something about Jared, the person, that Misha genuinely liked …

Jared kissed Misha's cheek. “I like you.”

Misha sniffed. “That's nice. Laconic, but nice.”

“For God's sake,” Gen yelled. “Stop confessing your undying love and keep pressure on the goddamn wound. I'm trying to radio in some help, here.”

Jared felt Misha's blood pulse hot against his palms. The shark throbbed and thrashed inside his human skin, and Jared fought to keep it down, keep it buried. They had miles to travel before they reached shore.

Misha grabbed Jared's wrist, and he didn't let go.

 

“You were turned accidentally? You really don't know anything?” Gen handed Jared a paper cup of coffee. He hadn't gotten a chance to eat any seal, so he could probably drink it without vomiting.

Dawn was skimming the horizon. Misha was still in surgery. The hospital waiting room was nearly empty.

“You're a seal sometimes?” Jared didn't want to talk about himself.

Gen waved her hand. “California sea lion, third generation.”

“There haven't been any, um –” Jared couldn't bring himself to say it.

“Dead wereseals, sea lions, etc? Nope. Obviously, stepping into the ocean always carries some risk, but we try to make it as safe as possible for everyone on the moon. Some people try indoor saltwater pools, that sort of thing, and it's okay, but not ideal. Our bodies … they want what they want.” Gen's eyes went deep and dark. She rolled back her shoulders, clothed now, in a overlarge T-shirt and a pair of board shorts, which she'd stashed somewhere on Misha's boat. Jared had needed to sneak home. It had almost killed him to leave Misha, but at least he'd been able to get some clothes and leave a message for Jensen.

“What's going to happen to Misha?” Jared wasn't asking about the surgery.

“As soon as we were in the light, I saw all kinds of scratches on his body. I have no idea what they're from – a hook, the boat, your skin, our teeth – but if they came from one of us ... it's not as likely, but if one of us got him, especially on the night of the moon ...”

Jared inhaled. He didn't think his shark teeth were capable of lightly scratching anyone.

“The world will have another wereshark or sea lion. I think the tribunal will let us slide, considering he was going to be in trouble without us. He can be so fucking stupid when it comes to his sharks.” Gen side-eyed Jared. “It's almost hilarious that he's been dating one.”

“Hilarious is one word.” Jared wanted Misha alive. He could work on okay and/or human later. Maybe. If Misha wanted him there.

Gen sipped her coffee. “I wish he'd introduced us. I would've been able to tell right away, maybe have gotten you some help. Honestly, it's a little unbelievable no one approached you before. Maybe the others are smaller than you? There aren't a whole lot of weresharks in the area, but I think there's at least a couple other whites. I could probably track down the person who bit you. It's so rare. There's no way it's not on record. Well, maybe if the wereshark were underage ...”

Jared wasn't all that sure he wanted to meet any other sharks, much less the one who had done this to him. Knowing there was a network or an organization or whatever Gen kept referring to wasn't helping him feel less overwhelmed. He could have killed Misha. He could have killed Gen. Even now, when she'd somehow shed the seal blubber that so appealed to the shark, something in the back of Jared's mind was thinking, She smells so good. “I've never had my mind surface like that during the full moon. I'm usually just the shark.”

“You can learn," Gen said. "You're supposed to learn. It's nice to give in, but it's also dangerous. Not that your human-mind was a big help.”

Jared shuddered. Misha was so small. How had he forgotten that?

“Hey,” Gen rubbed Jared's back. “It's going to be okay. Even if Misha is a shark now. Even if he's a sea lion. He's going to live.”

“Yeah.”

Gen nudged him with one stern, sharp elbow. “You're not the world's first wereshark. Misha's not the world's first idiot.”

Jared put his head in his hands. “He could have died. Why would he just throw himself away like that? It was a goddamn fish in that net. Misha even eats fish –”

“It wasn't just about that shark, Jared.”

“We met when he barged into my apartment and accused me of poaching. Then he stalked me. If I hadn't been a wereshark, I probably would have gone to the police.”

“Misha has indeed mastered the art of the meet-cute.” Gen's foot tapped against the floor. “Knowing him is not for the faint of heart. I can't even imagine dating him."

"Me neither, and I've done it." Jared breathed deep.

"He's a good person, though. He cares."

Misha's caring was going to get him killed. Case in point: everything about this very moment.

Gen continued, "Misha's messed up, you know? He's had to roll with a lot of punches, and I think he just got used to rolling and … hey, are you sharking out on me?”

No. Yes. Maybe. Jared was too upset to be here. He didn't know if he'd messed himself up by turning back into a human before the end of the moon. But he couldn't just leave Misha, either, not now, not when he was hurt and in the hospital and could maybe die, not when he might be a were.

Jared drew a deep breath and probed his nose, in case that would help.

Gen gripped his shoulder, her hand warm and smelling softly of prey. “Calm down, Jared. The shark can wait.”

He felt footsteps on linoleum and lifted his head, his tired human mind snapping back into place. He recognized Misha's surgeon and smelled blood on the air.

“Misha needs you human,” Gen said, and Jared reined himself in.

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Masterpost