Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Martyn limped through the woods, biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself from crying out as his leg throbbed with agony, blood dripping sluggishly into his socks. It had been a stupid idea to go hiking on his own, he knew this, it was like the first rule of hiking. Never go hiking alone. Or at the very least, tell someone where you were hiking and when you should be expected to get back. 

He was an idiot . He shouldn’t have come up here in the first place, but he was fuming and hiking had always been his outlet. He should have told someone he was going here, but he hadn’t been thinking, he hadn’t wanted to think. He should have watched where he was walking, should have realized how slippery the trail was with the recent rain, but he was stupid and he was too busy replaying the stupid argument over and over again in his head. 

He leaned up against a tree, taking a deep shuddering breath. He had to make it back to the head of the trail. Or at the very least, get to some point that had cell service so that he could call the emergency number and get rescued. He checked his phone again, hoping desperately that there would be any bars, even just one. But no, instead he was faced with the tiny message in the corner of the screen.

No Cell Service Available

Not to mention that right next to it was his battery, at a healthy 9 percent. He had already turned on his battery saver, turned his brightness all the way down, but there was only so much that he could do to keep it from giving up on him. 

He had to get to the trail head. He just had to get to the trail head. He hissed as he pushed himself up off the tree, shoots of pain running through his leg. He hadn’t looked at it since he first fell, he threw up when he saw it. He knew it was bad. Really bad. Hospital bad. It hurt , and he cursed under his breath as he limped along the trail, back the way he came. 

At least, he thought it was the trail. It hadn’t been very clear to begin with, and now that it was dark and he had slipped several times, he wasn’t really sure if he was on a path or not. There were roots along it, but the dirt seemed at least somewhat more packed, so he was assuming that people had walked down it before. He just had to hope that he was on an actual trail and not some kind of deer path or something similar.

After stumbling forward for another few minutes, he pulled out his phone again with the same desperate hope. No Cell Service Available. 8%. He stuffed it back in his pocket and reached for his water bottle, only remembering once he brought it to his lips that he had already drained it. No water, no food, no cell service, and a definitely broken leg. 

This was bad. This was really, really bad. Martyn closed his eyes, tilting his head back as he swallowed back the tears threatening to fall. He could die out here. If he didn’t find his way back, he would die out here. That scared him more than anything else, enough to keep pushing himself on, even as exhaustion and agony dragged at him. 

He wanted nothing more than to rest, to lie down on the path and close his eyes, letting himself fall asleep. But he couldn't, he had to keep going, get to a hospital before his leg got infected and he died alone and angry in the woods, with no one knowing or caring that he was gone. 

He had pulled all nighters before, many times, but never after hiking for several hours, and never while in agonizing pain. It felt like his mind was turning into mush, his normally quick thoughts slowing into something sluggish and dull. It came to a head when he stopped to lean against a tree to breathe and saw a wolf staring at him through the undergrowth. 

Martyn froze, meeting its steady gaze with horror. He couldn't remember what to do with wolves. Was he supposed to run? Make lots of noise? Climb a tree? He could only do one of those, but what if it wasn't right, and it just got angry or scared or threatened and attacked him? Surely holding still like this was the worst thing to do, but he couldn't come up with any other option. 

The wolf was big, far bigger than he would have expected. Martyn had always thought wolves were like large dogs, similar to huskies or something like that. But no, the wolf was probably larger than he was tall, with massive paws and the tips of its ears would probably reach his sternum if it were to stand next to him. Its fur was a rich brownish grey, and distantly, Martyn wondered what it would feel like under his hands. 

They stared at each other for another long moment, neither moving except for the flick of an ear from the wolf. Martyn held his breath the best he could, though with how much pain he was in, it was incredibly difficult to control his air. The wolf blinked once, then turned and bounded back off into the forest in a blur, leaving him alone again. He let out his breath in a whoosh, slumping against the tree. 

This turned out to be a mistake as the branch he had been holding on to snapped, and his already compromised balance failed him. He plummeted to the ground, landing on his wounded leg, and this time he couldn't stop himself from cursing aloud, his voice echoing through the forest. Tears sprang to his eyes automatically, and he laid there for several seconds, desperately trying to breathe without hyperventilating. He didn’t think he succeeded, judging by how lightheaded he was getting. He tried to push himself– more specifically, his leg–off of the ground, but he found that he had run out of strength. The pain and exhaustion had sapped it all away from him. 

I’m going to die here. That was the only thought left in his mind as he lay in the leaf litter, blood still oozing from his leg. I’m going to die here and no one is going to find me.

At a distance, he heard a bush rattle, leaves rustling as something moved through it. Maybe it was the wolf again. He wondered if it was coming to finish him off, now that he was too weak to fight. He hoped that if it was, it would make it quick. He was already suffering enough. 

What emerged from the treeline was not a wolf, however. It was a person. Martyn’s eyes had blurred, so it was difficult to really make out their features, but he could tell they had long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, an unbuttoned shirt, and sweatpants. They were also wearing sandals. Why were they wearing sandals? That made no sense, they were in the middle of the woods, sandals were not good hiking shoes. They were going to have such bad blisters. 

“Hey man, it’s a little bit late for you to be out, isn’t it?” They walked up to him, crouching down to look at him better. “The trail closes at sundown.”

“...got lost…” Martyn mumbled in reply, doing his best to blink the tears out of his eyes so his vision would clear. 

“I’ll say, you’re way off the path.” They looked down at his leg, then back over at him. “That doesn’t look very good either.”

Martyn sucked in a sharp breath as they touched the wound lightly, a violent pain rippling through him at the contact. “Don’t…don’t do that…”

“Yeah, that’s pretty bad.” They wiped the blood onto their sweatpants. “I’m surprised you’re even conscious still, dude.”

“Yeah, well–” Martyn took another shuddering breath, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’ve gotta get down to the hospital, don’t I? Can’t exactly pass out if I’ve got things to do.”

“You’re not going to be able to walk on that.” They examined him for another moment, then in the blink of an eye, Martyn was pressed up against their chest, cradled in their arms like he weighed nothing.

“Hey, what’re you–”

“Relax dude, I’m gonna get you some help.” They laughed, the sound echoing through Martyn’s skull. “I should probably introduce myself, huh? I’m Ren, he/him, I live in these here woods.”

Martyn didn’t know that there were people in the woods. Wasn’t this a national park of some kind? Were people allowed to live in those? He didn’t think so, but they had also told him that he had wandered far from the path, so maybe he wasn’t in the park anymore? All of this thinking was beginning to make his head hurt, and the fog settling over his brain was not helping in the slightest.

“Martyn.” He replied, though it came out more like a mumble. “He/him as well.”

The walk from where he had collapsed to where they were going was a bit of a blur. Now that he wasn’t walking anymore, Martyn found himself drifting between sleep and wakefulness, with the agony in his leg being the only thing keeping him awake. Ren was whistling as they went, some tune that he couldn’t recognize. It seemed as though it was getting colder the longer they walked, but he couldn’t tell if that was because of the actual temperature of the air, or if shock was starting to settle in. 

Martyn’s eyes were closed when they reached their destination, so he didn’t see where they ended up. He could hear distant talking though, and he could feel the vibrations of Ren’s voice as he spoke to someone. For the life of him, he wouldn’t be able to make out what exactly they were saying. There was a light behind his eyes, and he scrunched his face up, turning his head away from it. 

He was carefully set down on something impossibly soft, and he sank into it. If it weren’t for his leg, he would have definitely already fallen asleep. As he was having that thought, something pricked his knee, a pinch that felt different from the other pain he was experiencing, and a slow, steady numbness crept over his leg. The tension melted from him as the agony faded into nothingness, and he finally, finally , fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Ren hadn’t been expecting to find a hiker on his nightly run through the woods. He had already done his sweep of the trail, making sure no one had gotten lost throughout the day, and there had been nothing but tracks from the afternoon. The park closed at dusk, so there wouldn’t be any new people hiking up, and the park rangers didn’t dare venture into the forest at night, for fear of…well, wolves.

So there he was, bounding through the forest, his ears pricked up to listen for deer and rabbits and all other sorts of prey animals that he might choose to make a meal of, when the scent of blood washed over him. It was sharp, coppery, like pennies that had been outside for too long. He paused, lifting his snout to sniff the air, then recoiled slightly as it came back as human. It was fresh, very fresh, and Ren felt a surge of panic in him as he realized how strong the scent was. Whoever it was, they were hurt badly.

He sprang through the trees, hind legs pushing himself off of the soft dirt, following the scent as it got more and more overwhelming. He could hear them now, breathing strained, leaves rustling as they walked onward. They were so incredibly far from the path, how had they even gotten out here? Especially if they were injured? 

He slowed his run to a trot as he got close, so that he wouldn’t startle them. Seeing a wolf running at them in the woods in the middle of the night would probably give them a heart attack alongside whatever wound they were sporting. He cautiously poked his head out through a bush, his eyes locking on a figure leaning against a tree and breathing heavily. 

They looked terrible. There were large bags under their eyes, their hair was a mess, dirt seemed to be smeared over every inch of them, and most importantly, their leg was covered in blood. Ren was no expert in human anatomy, but he was pretty sure that bones were not supposed to be visible, especially not in the leg. He crept a little bit further forward, but they spotted him, their breathing stopping as they froze. They stared at him with wide, scared eyes, and he could practically hear the gears turning in their head as they tried to figure out what to do in this situation. 

Ren wasn’t entirely sure what to do now either. He had never really dealt with this sort of thing before. So he did what he did best and delegated the situation to Skizz. He retreated back into the trees, keeping an eye on the hiker as he hid in the shadows and sent a quick message through the pack bond. 

Skizz, my brother, my friend, we have a problem.

What’s up?  Skizz’s familiar presence emerged through the bond, and Ren slumped with relief. He wasn’t asleep. Good.

There’s a hiker way off the path, they’re very injured.

Uh oh. Skizz paused, then continued. How close are you to the trail head? Could you call an ambulance for them or something?

Ren glanced back at the hiker, then jumped as the branch of the tree that they were using to hold themself up snapped. They collapsed to the ground, directly atop their wound, and they cursed aggressively, face scrunched in pain as the smell of blood got significantly stronger.

Ren pushed the image of them crumpled on the ground to Skizz, then made up his mind. He could at least go up to them in his human form and give them a hand. Maybe it would keep them from getting more hurt. He raced to his nearest clothing stash and quickly shifted out of his wolf form, reaching into the hollow of a tree and hurriedly getting dressed. He didn’t bother buttoning up his shirt, it wasn’t that important, and he stuck his sandals on while he ran back towards the hunter. Once more, he slowed to a walk as he emerged through the underbrush.

Bring him here, I’ll patch him up. It’s bad, but nothing I can’t handle. Skizz informed him, and he nodded to himself.

“Hey man, it’s a little bit late for you to be out, isn’t it?” Ren said quietly as he approached the hiker, crouching once he had gotten close enough to touch them. They were still lying on the ground, seemingly unable to move anymore. “The trail closes at sundown.”

“...got lost…” They murmured back, blinking several times. There were tears on their cheeks and building in their eyes, no doubt from the pain.

“I’ll say, you’re way off the path.” Ren turned his gaze to the wound, wincing inwardly at how violent it looked.  “That doesn’t look very good either.”

He reached out and touched it lightly, then immediately withdrew his hand as the hiker hissed in pain, a whole body shudder running through them. “Don’t…don’t do that…”

“Yeah, that’s pretty bad.” He wiped the blood off onto sweatpants, doing his best to keep calm. “I’m surprised you’re even conscious still, dude.”

“Yeah, well–” The hiker closed their eyes, taking another shaking breath. “I’ve gotta get down to the hospital, don’t I? Can’t exactly pass out if I’ve got things to do.”

“You’re not going to be able to walk on that.” Ren declared. It was pretty obvious to him, but some hikers were stubborn. Maybe they didn’t realize how bad the wound was. 

You might want to hurry up with them. That wound should not be left open for very long. 

Ren nodded and very gingerly reached forward and scooped the hiker into his arms, hoisting them up while doing his best not to aggravate their leg. He didn’t want to make it worse than it already was.

“Hey, what’re you–” The hiker squirmed slightly, their expression turning perplexed. Ren couldn’t help but laugh at the way their face scrunched, the confusion showing through the pain. 

“Relax dude, I’m gonna get you some help. I should probably introduce myself, huh? I’m Ren, he/him, I live in these here woods.”

They hesitated for a moment, and Ren could feel the tension slowly easing out of them now that their leg didn’t have any pressure on it. After a moment, they mumbled something back in return, and Ren barely caught the words.

“Martyn. He/him as well.” 

Ren began to walk, moving as smoothly as he could so that he wouldn’t be jostled too much. He hurried as quickly as he dared through the trees, up the incline, sending a quick message to Skizz to let him know that he was on the way. He whistled as he walked, though he wasn’t sure how much Martyn was listening. He seemed to be falling asleep, though his eyebrows were still knit together from the pain. 

Skizz’s cabin came into view near the top of the incline, and Ren put on an extra burst of speed. Skizz himself stood outside on the porch, already wearing an apron and looking concerned as he saw Martyn in the flesh for the first time.

“I won’t lie, it doesn’t look great.” Skizz said as they stepped into the house. “Lay him down on the bed, I’ll start getting to work on him.”

“Are you sure you know how to–” Ren started, but stopped when Skizz snorted.

“I’ve stitched up worse wounds on you.” He pulled out a syringe, examining it for a moment before nodding. Ren set Martyn down on the bed, then averted his eyes as Skizz injected the needle into his knee. “That’ll numb it, keep him from feeling what I’m doing. While I’m stitching this, can you go grab the oxygen? I don’t like how shallow he’s breathing.”

“Sure.” Ren grabbed the canister and mask from where they were sitting in the cabinet. “Same as usual?”

“Yep.” Skizz nodded, already concentrating on the task at hand. Ren fixed the oxygen mask onto Martyn’s face, making sure it was working properly before sitting back in a chair. He was silent as Skizz worked, setting the bone and stitching the flesh back together.

“He’s not gonna be able to walk on this for a while.” Skizz stated once he was done, pulling off his gloves and moving to the sink to wash his hands. “We’ll want to get him off the mountain though. You’ll probably have to carry him down and call someone to come get him.”

“Right.” Ren stood, following him to the kitchen. “But you think he’ll be alright?”

“Yeah, he’ll be just fine.” Skizz turned on the faucet with his elbow, rising the blood off of his hands before scrubbing them aggressively with dish soap. “You can go back out on your run if you want. I know it got cut short.”

“Thanks man.” Ren patted him on the shoulder. But for the rest of the run, he couldn’t seem to take his mind off of the hiker.