What some people fail to appreciate is that while werewolves are very hard to kill, they are neither invulnerable nor immortal.

Vampires, on the other hand, live up to the undead reputation. Literally. Few people carry holy water or wooden stakes, and a lot hate the smell of garlic when not in an Italian restaurant.

But whatever. Jongin really wishes he was dead right now, because the wounds in his side and left leg ing hurt.

He can pick up the sound of familiar footsteps and blearily looks at the shapely legs of his wife. “Hi, honey.”

Baekhee tucks her skirt under her and kneels beside him, looking over his battered and bloody body as though watching pretty scenery. The smell of salt comes before tears slide down her cheeks, and Jongin feels even worse.

“You stupid idiot—”

“Baek, I had to. They were getting too close.”

“I can defend myself.”

“You don’t have to. We’re a team, remember? Till death do us part, which is pretty much forever.”

“What’s the point if my husband gets himself killed by hunters?”

“You know I’d come back to haunt you.” It hurts to smile. “You’re my unfinished business.”

Baekhee wipes the heels of her hands over her eyes and sighs, a habit from pretending to be human. “How bad? Can you walk?”

“I honestly don’t think I can even stand up, babe. I think my leg’s busted. There goes my livelihood. I’ll have to rely on you and be a kept man.”

“Bull.” Baekhee tucks her arms under his thighs and behind his shoulders.

To appreciate this moment, one needs to understand that Jongin is about six feet tall and built like a dancer—so all muscle. His ex-girlfriend-now-wife is petite and curvy and stands about eye-level with Jongin’s jugular.

She straightens, finds her balance, and takes off at that breakneck, vampiric pace that even a wolf in their prime can’t keep up with.

Jongin doesn’t think it’s fair. He’s a creature of the Otherworld, too, but he can either be an average human-looking werewolf or a hulking bipedal furry. Baekhee can turn into a real dog or vanish into mist and benchpress cars without breaking a sweat.

In very little time, they’re back home, which is kind of a strange place to be…

“Junghae’s over,” Baekhee explains. She might be telepathic. Some vampires claim they can read minds.

The back door opens, and Baekhee carefully maneuvers inside. Junghae appears from the shadows, cheekbones highlighted under the bare bulbs of the hall and eyes cast in shadow. “I heard you coming,” she says. “My things are inside. Do you need help, Baek?”

She tightens her hold. “I’ve got him.”

Their apartment is a couple stories up. Jongin quietly protests to being carried the whole way, but his Baekhee is stubborn and a lot like a dog with a bone—she won’t give up.

Jongin’s embarrassed to see Sehun waiting at the kitchen island, pacing with a TV guide in his hands and pieces shredded on the counter and floor. He drops the magazine and immediately goes into the bedroom, flipping on the light and pushing pillows aside.

Of course he’d follow Junghae. He’s had a massive crush on her since they met and she’d threatened to break his neck if he didn’t stop being such a brat. That’s how they express their affection, evidently, because they’ve kind of been a thing but not officially. According to Baekhee, Junghae’s worried about having a relationship with a human because of the social stigma, generational gap, and obvious biological differences.

“What happened?” Sehun hovers near the wall as Junghae cuts away Jongin’s ruined jeans and T-shirt. Blood has soaked into his underwear, staining it a deeper scarlet. Baekhee sits beside him, uncharacteristically still and quiet. She seems to devour the sight of his body, the sight and smell of his blood both arousing and infuriating.

“Jongin had an accident,” Junghae replies distantly. She douses wads of cotton with antiseptic to clean the superficial wounds and smears of dried blood away. Those are healing well; they should be scarless once disinfected.

His leg sits at an unusual angle, and Baekhee chews her lip until it bursts, but she just the blood away and wrings her hands as she gets up and takes Sehun by the arm. “Lets get him something to eat.”

In the kitchen, she calmly tells Sehun to sit on the sofa and hold pillows over his ears. She hugs him close, pressing the pillows more firmly. Jongin hears the accelerate beat of Sehun’s heart; he’s confused and worried but surprisingly does what he’s told without snark.

Jongin’s about to comment on it, because he’s sure Junghae can hear Sehun, too, but she places her hands on his leg and says, “Don’t hold your breath.”

Dogs howl when they catch the pitch of his pained cry, and Baekhee is back beside him in an instant, kissing his face and petting his hair murmuring reassurances and praise for being so brave.

But he wasn’t brave. Like she’d said, he was a . What kind of moron takes on a party of hunters alone? They were drunk or high or both, looking and asking for trouble. Someone said something about female vampires that Jongin can’t even quite remember but a familiar name pops up in conversation—Junghae’s hands shake a little as she shines a flashlight into his eyes and pulls it away to test for a concussion—and he simply lost his temper.

He’d already been in a bit of a mood, with a new moon and all, but that’s no excuse. It all could have been avoided, and they wouldn’t be on pins and needles like he’s on his deathbed.

“He’ll be okay.” Junghae clears the soaked cotton and bandages, stuffing them all into a trash bag to toss outside. “Give your leg a couple days before trying to walk on it. Don’t shift until I look at it again. The rest of you is healing well, but if you notice a change in color or continued pain, you could be reacting to the silver and should get to the hospital right away.”

Baekhee sniffles again and slides off the bed with her arms held out like a Hollywood mummy; her friend steps into her embrace, and the ferocity of the hug cracks some bones. “Thank you, Junghae.”

“If he doesn’t behave, get a leash.”

“She’ll enjoy that too much,” Jongin mumbles. He doesn’t mind Baekhee pining him down now and then, but being tied up is just degrading.

Sehun peeks inside, looking pale and slightly green. Junghae immediately reassures him that Jongin will be fine but needs rest, so they leave with promises to check in later. Baekhee asks them to turn off the lights as they leave, and she climbs onto the bed again to curl up as close to Jongin as she can without crawling under his flesh.

They lay in the semi-darkness for a while; Jongin’s not sure how long. The throbbing in his freshly broken leg is subsiding; his cleaned skin doesn’t sense the air is cooler than usual anymore, so his goosebumps settle down. Baekhee carefully nuzzles closer, her head on Jongin’s chest with her ear over his heart.

Finally, after many minutes of listening to the steady rhythm of his heart and wind in his lungs, Baekhee sighs. “You scared me today, Jongin.”

An apology doesn’t make everything magically better, but it’s all Jongin has to offer. For good measure, he adds a promise to be more careful. It’s not enough to spare him a lecture, but he knows he deserves it.

“You’re far too precious to be so reckless.” Not as fragile as a human, but much more delicate than a vampire. “I don’t know what I’d do if something worse happened to you. If you needed help, and I wasn’t there.” She runs a hand lightly down his chest, skirting around the bruises and ambling up to his neck to hang off his shoulder.

The somber mood is broken by a hungry tummy. Baekhee sighs again but sits up and slips off the bed. “You need to eat something. Your gut was nearly drowning out your heart.” She reaches behind her and s her dress, letting it fall and grabbing an old sweatshirt of Jongin’s that he’s long since tried to reclaim.

Jongin watches her walk to the kitchen, passing between the bed and a long dresser with a mirror over it—it used to weird him out, knowing she was with him but only seeing his image. As far as he knows, she’s never seen herself. He asked, once, about vampires’ reflections. His friends Taemin and Soojung have one, but Baekhee and Junghae don’t.

Apparently, a vampire can outlive their reflection.

In the kitchen, the refrigerator opens with a hum and shuts with a soft thump. A cabinet opens, and a plate is pulled out. It sits on the counter with a clank and is immediately filled with leftover chicken. Jongin can smell the spices, and the scent intensifies as it revolves in the microwave.

Baekhee sets the plate down before lifting Jongin upright, piling pillows behind his back, and handing him a wad of paper napkins before setting the plate of food on the nightstand.

Not even near maiming can dull his appetite. Baekhee even takes a couple wings; she doesn’t need to eat, but sometimes she has a craving or is curious or bored. She can’t drink from Jongin anytime soon, due to the silver surfing around his veins.

“Next time you get the bright idea to fight for my honor or whatever,” she articulates around a chicken bone, “call me, first. It’s not just your fight.”

“What kind of husband am I, if I can’t protect my wife?”

“What kind of mate just goes off alone, leaving their pack?” Jongin wilts a little at that, because she’s right. They make important decisions together. Baekhee combs his bangs across his forehead with her clean hand. “I don’t want to raise our babies alone.”

She says it softly, but Jongin’s excellent hearing understands immediately, and he nearly chokes on his food.

“Are—” he wheezes and tries to force the chicken down his throat. “Are you—?”

“Congratulations, Kim Jongin. You’re gonna be a daddy.” Wiping her hands on a napkin, she looks at his reflection in the mirror. Jongin thinks she looks sad, maybe just worried. “That’s why Junghae was here. I asked for help in finding children from two species like ours. There are lots of half-human children; they have a very adaptive biology. I…” Her arm crosses over her belly; she probably doesn’t notice the motion. “I’m nearly clinically dead. I don’t know if I can carry to whatever full-term would even be.”

“Baek…” He’s still hung up on You’re a daddy, Jongin. If he wasn’t in so much pain, he’d howling from the rooftop. “I really want to kiss you, but you’re too far away, and it hurts to move.”

Smiling, she drags her napkin across his lips and kisses him. “Poor puppy. What are some bruises and a broken leg to a big, strong wolf?” In a flash, she’s cleared the empty plate and used napkins and is snuggled flush against his side.

“If this is gratitude, I’ll just ignore them next time.”

“Good. You’ll live longer. You helped make these demons; you’re gonna help raise them.” It sounds like a threat.

Jongin kisses her forehead. “I promise.” It takes more than a thorough beating to get rid of him. He’s stupid resilient, persistent, and completely in love with his wife and their babies.

He’d never miss a future together.

a/n: A fic written in a day, which proves to myself that I can totally do it, if I'd just stop being so distracted and difficult. (This was a distraction, though, because I have, like ten fics for fests to write. My own fault. But still.)