"20, 19, 18, 17…" Shawn tried his usual method but it wasn't working.
He moved quickly down the hallway, his steps fast and uneven as he tried to remember where Mrs. Smith had pointed out the bathrooms earlier.
But his mind refused to cooperate. The memory wouldn't come.
He couldn't let anyone see him like this. What had he done to himself? He shouldn't have taken a job like this. Maybe he should have opened a small restaurant or done anything less risky.
But even now, as unstable as he was, he refused to think about quitting. He wouldn't go back to hiding, living like a ghost while the people who ruined him walked free. He wasn't the villain, he was the victim.
Hiding had only made him feel like a monster, like something that didn't belong among humans. He wasn't going back to that.
He wanted this- his second dream job- and he was going to keep it.
He pushed forward, passing classrooms filled with voices. It was overwhelming. It felt like he could hear everyone in the entire building, even those far away. That alone told him how badly he was losing control, because his senses had heightened even further.
Still unable to remember where the teachers' bathroom was, he focused on his hearing, trying to catch even the faintest sound of running or flushing water.
After a moment, he heard it and followed the sound quickly- only to realize it was coming from the students' washroom.
He let out a low groan and immediately turned away, picking up his pace.
"7, 6, 5…" The numbers were running out, and instead of calming him, everything inside him was spiraling further out of control.
The noise around him grew louder, voices overlapping in his head. Then one word cut through everything else.
"Antidote."
It echoed in his mind like torture, dragging him back to the past.
That was the last word he had heard before they were all wiped out. They had been gathered in one place, promised a cure- a way to become human again. They believed it, not knowing it was a trap.
The memory shattered what little control Shawn had left. The change came fast and uncontrollable. He felt his fangs push through, his claws forming. His eyes burned, and he knew they were already glowing.
Panic surged through him. His mind was slipping, his instincts taking over. He knew what would happen if they did. The beast inside him didn't think. All it wanted was to tear, to devour.
He would hurt someone.
Or everyone.
Finally, he spotted the teachers' washroom. Moving at inhuman speed, he rushed inside, slipped into a stall, and locked it behind him.
But even that felt pointless. The lock wouldn't stop him. He could tear the door down with one hand.
The moment he locked the stall, the beast inside him surged, urging him to break free and do what it did best.
A low, animalistic groan escaped him as his hand moved toward the door, but before he could smash it, a familiar scent hit him.
It cut through everything, even the beast, stopping it in its tracks. His thoughts halted. All he could focus on was that scent and the steady rhythm of a heartbeat nearby, fast and uneven, filled with excitement.
He could always tell when people were happy, afraid, or lying.
Slowly, his breathing began to steady.
The claws receded.
The fangs disappeared.
Shawn could hardly believe it. A second ago he was out of control, and now he was completely back to normal, as if nothing had happened.
And because of what?
Jean's scent?
What did that have to do with him regaining control after spiraling that badly?
"It's not like it even smells that good anyway," he muttered under his breath, still shaken. Even so, a part of him was grateful it had happened that way, though he would never admit that Jean had somehow helped him.
He wondered if anyone's scent could have that effect on him. After all, every human had a scent.
But even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew it wasn't true.
This wasn't about jean, not just anyone's scent. Then was it because they had slept together several times?
And speaking of that, had he really slept with a minor? The thought irritated him immediately.
But how was that even his fault? Jean had lied. He had even shown him an ID, and because of that, Shawn hadn't questioned anything or tried to focus and know if it was a lie.
So no, that wasn't his problem.
His problem was why his inner beast had reacted like that to Jean's scent. Had it started recognizing him? Marking him as something important after those encounters?
Maybe it was because he had been lonely for too long… and being intimate with someone again had affected him more than he realized. Maybe it had even affected the beast inside him.
There had to be a reason.
Because Shawn knew one thing for sure. Jean should have been the first person the beast attacked, not the one that calmed it instead.
His head throbbed violently.
If those people had found out he was still alive… if this was some kind of trap, then they were probably just playing with him before finishing what they had started.
And if that was the case, then he would have to act.
He had never planned on revenge because he knew how powerful they were. Going after them would only lead to his own death.
That was why he had chosen to stay away from his past no matter how much it still hurt, no matter how angry it made him.
And if they were coming for him now… Then he would have no choice.
And revenge wouldn't mean going to the police. It wouldn't mean exposing them or putting them behind bars. People like that didn't fall.
So he would have to take matters into his own hands, and he feared what that would turn him into… more beast than human, the very thing he had been trying so hard not to become.
He shook his head, forcing the thoughts away before they dragged him back into that unstable state again.
He needed answers.
He would find out now whether Jean knew anything.
If Jean was innocent, then he would stay away from him… and from anything tied to his past.
But if he wasn't, then Shawn would act first.
He knew Jean was still there. He could smell him, feel him close.
He pushed the stall door open and saw him standing there, leaning against the sinks, but he straightened up immediately Shawn showed up.
"I'm 18, I swear, I'm 18. I'm not lying this time. I even got my ID this morning. It's real, I can show you."
Those were the first words that met Shawn.
It was surprising to see Jean this serious for the first time. He was always smirking, always making jokes even when Shawn didn't show any interest.
Shawn could already tell Jean was telling the truth. There was no tremor in his pulse.
If he were lying, he would have sensed it instantly- the quickened heartbeat, the uneven breathing, the faint, sour trace of stress that always clung to deception.
But there was nothing.
It was a bit of a relief, but being eighteen didn't suddenly make everything okay. He was still a student, and someone Shawn didn't want to see anywhere near him again.
Even now, the anger lingered, tied to everything that connected him to the people who had ruined his life.
Shawn didn't acknowledge the age part. He went straight to what mattered.
"What do you know about me?" he asked, his voice stiff and emotionless, though his adrenaline wasn't rising as much as he expected.
"What?" Jean blinked, clearly confused. "What do you mean? You're a teacher now."
Shawn picked up on it immediately. There was no shift in his pulse, no sour trace of stress. Jean had no idea.
Even without asking directly, the question should have triggered something in him, but it didn't.
Relief washed through Shawn, but it still didn't fix anything.
He walked past him, intending to leave him there. It was already risky enough being seen together in the teachers' bathroom. But Jean grabbed his hand, stopping him. "Shawn..."
"It's Mr. Geller," he corrected sharply. The name felt strange even to him because it wasn't his real second name. "And let this be the last time you follow me into a place like this or try to talk to me about any of this."
"I know you don't mean that," Jean said immediately.
For some reason, Shawn didn't snap. He forced himself to stay controlled.
"I know you've always taken my warnings as a joke," he said, his voice cold, "Showing up at my place anyway. But this time, don't make that mistake."
He paused, making sure every word landed.
"I might have entertained you before because I didn't know who you were. But now that I do… you somehow disgust me. A high school student? Not really my type. A twenty-three-year-old bank employee? That was my type. That's probably why I entertained you."
He let out a quiet breath.
"But now… not anymore."
As Shawn said it all, the words seemed to catch in his throat for reasons he couldn't explain, maybe it was just too much anger.
But he forced them out anyway, then turned and left.