Being the Bear

Looking back now, it was obvious that Sebastian had been looking for someone to pay him homage. Rick had slowly come to realize that Sebastian needed him as much as he needed Sebastian, if for much different reasons. Then, Rick had only dimly understood the kind of person that Sebastian was. If Sebastian used others, Rick overlooked it; because Sebastian provided him with something he'd never had before, the feeling of being wanted and needed. Even at his worst, Sebastian truly seemed to want and need Rick's presence and adoration in a way that went beyond simple ego. When Sebastian told him some of the changes he'd need to make in his life, Rick just shrugged. He didn't much care for his old life anyway.

Once Sebastian was out, Rick assumed things would return to the way they had been before. That didn't quite happen. Sebastian was distant. He moved in with that guy from prison, and saw Rick less and less. He never called, and rarely stopped by Rick's small apartment. But when Rick heard that the guy from prison had died, Rick swallowed what pride he had left and went to him. He still hoped he could rekindle some of what they had had before Sebastian went to prison. His heart soared when Sebastian took him in his arms and embraced as though they'd never part again.

Rick hoped Sebastian would get interested in settling down somewhere, anywhere after he'd put his seed in him. But Sebastian seemed to have other ideas; he changed other guys, strange, silent guys; or cringing subservient ones.

One of those guys, named Benny, had disappeared and all Sebastian said of him was that he didn't work out, that he was crazy and that he'd told Benny to hit the road and to not come back. Rick suspected it was the change that it made Benny unstable rather than merely having brought it out as Sebastian claimed. Rick had pressed for answers, asking "What's Benny gonna do? He'll be on his own for his first change ... why run him off? He could be a loose canon and cause trouble." Sebastian had assured Rick that Benny would be just fine, he'd make his own way in the world. Rick continued to ask more questions. Already drunk, Sebastian got angry and threatened to beat Rick up for questioning his decision to cut Benny loose. It wasn't until Freddie was killed in front of him that Rick suspected Sebastian had killed Benny before his first transformation.

Still, Rick stayed with Sebastian as the group grew. They moved around, fueling their needs with cash from petty robberies. Much of Sebastian's character made Rick uneasy, but still there was that pull that even Rick only partly understood.

When Rick became a werebear his clubbed foot changed, vanishing with his first transformation, and for that Rick would be forever grateful. Rick accepted what he was now as the price for that, and for Sebastian's continued affection. It made him sad that Sebastian seemed only to want to drain his balls into one or two of the others then drink himself stupid, instead of laying with him and spending the night making each other's cocks sing with happiness. Lately, Rick's attempts at intimacy had only been half-heartedly returned. The killing of the old man in the liquor store had shifted his feelings towards Sebastian and kept him from repeating the overtures. The strain between them festered.

The loud grunts snapped Rick out of his brooding and told him Sebastian was nearly done. The gasp and sigh from Ron signaled the conclusion. Sebastian pulled out, wiped his cock on the tail of Ron's black T-shirt and growled out, "Was it good for you?" and then briefly snickered.

Ron pulled his pants up and replied, "I came." But Rick could tell that, though Ron had indeed ejaculated, it was likely because Sebastian had pounded it out of him rather than any real pleasure the man had received.

"Heh, we're all sluts, Ronnie, aren't we?" Sebastian said.

Ron agreed unenthusiastically, buckled his belt and walked somewhat tenderly over to some bushes to relieve himself, and to get out of Sebastian's way.

Rick knew that Sebastian's next move would be for the booze, and he wasted no time, knowing that Sebastian was likely to start swallowing malt liquor at an alarming rate.

"Hey, man. I thought you said we were gonna lay low for a bit, somewhere quiet. How comes we're heading for Missoula?"

"Don't worry, I got a plan." Sebastian said, still looking about.

Sebastian gave a rock a vicious kick. "Why is there never enough MONEY?!" Sebastian's voice rose as he spoke, startling the rest of the gang.

"I thought we had enough for a couple of weeks?" Rick said.

"I did, too. But it was all fives and tens under the hundred in that till. We was robbed." The irony of his words utterly escaped him.

"So what are you figuring on doing?"

"We gotta hit someplace soon. We'll need cash to buy in with my buddy in Cali. Maybe a bank. But not here. Someplace out of the way, I think up in Canada. We'll head north after we clear Missoula. I don't want to go through the border crossing on I-15." He reached for a St. Ides.

Rick spoke softly. "Aw, come on, man. Don't drink any more of that shit. Why not you and me just spoon a little and get some rest. We been ridin' all day, and you look beat, Sebastian. Come on." Rick put a big hairy hand on Sebastian's shoulder.

For a moment, Rick thought Sebastian would reject the proffered peace offering, but he turned to face Rick. For some reason, Sebastian's eyes softened and he almost smiled. He took Rick's face in his big hands and kissed him softly, passionately and when he broke the kiss his eyes were still soft and a little distant. They looked sad... and then it was gone, replaced by his usual countenance.

"Yeah. Maybe we should rest. Tell those bozos to settle in and get some sleep. And tell 'em to watch those bikes. You and me can sack out over here," Sebastian said, gesturing to the ramshackle shelter that was off to one side of the abandoned rest stop. It was typical of Sebastian to claim the most comfortable place for himself, but at least this time, he included Rick.

After telling the others of Sebastian's intentions, Rick returned, and the two stripped and settled down. It was, if you worked hard enough editing the image, almost like old times, Rick thought to himself. He shifted into half form, hoping that Sebastian would take the hint and join him. When he did, Rick smiled happily and propped their bed rolls as pillows. Sebastian pulled him to his chest with Rick's backside nestled up against his front. He wrapped his muscular, furry arms around the smaller bear and settled down, a heavy, furry leg bent and resting on Rick's thigh. Rick didn't dare hope for sex. This would have to do. For now, this was enough.

As he drifted off to sleep, the image of Steve in Sebastian's mind finally faded, and he no longer heard the soft reproach of his voice and no longer felt the ache in his heart at his loss. Emotional numbness brought by drink or simple sleep was a reprieve from Sebastian's life-long sentence.

In the bushes on the other side of the road, little Bobby held very still. He had been on the verge of returning home when the noise of the motorcycles caused him to hold up. His curiosity was piqued. The sight of eight very rough looking bearded men mounted on loud, mean looking bikes had caused the naturally shy boy to fade into the bushes, but held his attention. Their rough masculinity had filled him with fear and fascinated him at the same time. He knew he should be on his way home, before his daddy noticed his absence, or his older brother noticed his missing air rifle, but still he stayed and watched, ever so quietly. Somehow he knew his safety depended on remaining unnoticed. There was an almost steady breeze this evening, and although Bobby didn't know it, his position upwind was keeping him safe from detection by acute were noses.

His young eyes had seen things his young brain could make no sense of, things youngsters were never intended to see. But one extraordinary image was burned into his young brain, assuring he'd never forget it; the sight of not one but two men taking their clothes off and changing into what looked very much like bears to his eyes. The Discovery Channel had taught him all about bears, but it had shown him nothing at all like this.

The stars came out and the snores of the men signaled that sleep had finally overtaken the bikers. Across the road, with stealth beyond his years, Bobby crept slowly and silently down the embankment and across the field towards home and the beating he was sure to get from his daddy. Already in his mind, he was framing the story of men changing into bears to be used in fending off or delaying the expected punishment.

- - - - - -

Boris' house was sited on a bluff overlooking Shuswap Lake, north of Anglemont and east of Kamloops. Boris' few neighbors knew him as a friendly but somewhat aloof person; a very successful investment broker who had retired at an earlier than usual age and had purchased this house and land to have a quiet place to pursue his hobbies of writing and wildlife photography. They were correct on all but the age.

Boris Sborovsky was closer to 300 years than the 50 he appeared. He had been changed in Czarist Russia by a member of Catherine the Great's Palace Guard. Boris was a low level member of the court who had caught the eye of the burly and handsomely bearded captain, Alexander Pivnik. They had been secret lovers until Catherine had Alexander imprisoned and executed for 'unnatural acts'.

In the palace there were many secrets and some not even Catherine The Great, Empress and Ruler of All the Russias, knew. One such secret was that the court physician was, in fact, not altogether human. The executioner approached Alexander and fitted the rope around his neck, then threw the lever that opened the trap door. The physician grimly examined the body and pronounced Alexander dead. The doctor was very positive about his pronouncement and that satisfied the palace official who presided over the execution. When all had left, the physician quietly motioned for Boris to enter the room, and gave him a slow wink. He smiled, placing a broad hand on his shoulder, then turned and exited, quietly closing the doors behind him, leaving Boris and the now rapidly healing body of Alexander alone together.

Boris had smuggled the 'body' out of the guardroom after the footsteps of the guards faded down the long corridor, substituting the corpse of an injured serf who had frozen to death begging for bread in the streets. He fit well enough into the coffin, and received a better burial than he might have otherwise. When the four serfs arrived to transport the coffin to the burial site, Alexander and Boris were long gone.

A reassignment to a small city east of the Urals was quietly arranged for by the physician. It allowed for Boris and Alexander to live quite happily and somewhat obscurely. The court all but forgot about Boris Sborovsky; they certainly had forgotten about Alexander Pivnik who was, of course, dead and buried. But Boris had never forgotten his anonymous benefactor's kindness, and he always wondered about that wink.

After more than a century in Russia, they fled the Revolution and had lived most of the subsequent years in eastern Europe, until Alexander had been killed during waning days of World War II. Both had been caught in the same frenzied mortar attack unleashed by retreating SS troops, but Boris had survived. Alexander's injuries had been overwhelming in spite of Boris' frantic efforts. Disliking the advancing Soviet takeover of the east and it's empty promise of a 'people's paradise', and desolate at the loss of Alexander; he migrated to the United States shortly after the war. He settled in upstate New York, but an unfortunate incident there had forced his move to Canada in the late 60's; and his current persona had him working in finance in Toronto until his 'retirement' in the late 90's. A business hunting trip to Kamloops with clients had introduced him to the area, and he settled there once he retired.

"Boris always DID know that the secret to a good buffet is 'quantity'," René said, loading his plate with another scoop of potato salad. The impressive living room and the deck just off it, with their spectacular views, made a beautiful setting for what was to be a serious meeting. "Do you know who those guys over there? Is the blond one Vic?"

Robert nodded while adding more rumaki to his plate. "God, I love these things," he said, popping another one in his mouth and chewing. He swallowed. "Yes, that's Vic and his cub, Walt. The other two I don't know. I don't think Boris invited them. I'll see if I can find out."

René glanced again at the new werebears a bit suspiciously, but said, "It is not necessary, mon ami. I'm sure Boris will introduce us all. Hand me that pan will you? There's more in the kitchen." René took the empty rumaki pan with a smile as Robert's hungry eyes followed him.

Once all the bears had worked their way through the buffet, they made their way to the large living room. The chairs and couches were soon filled with the invited and uninvited bears as they sat, balancing large buffet plates heaped with food.

Robert sat next to Vic, the couch sagging somewhat under the added weight. "So... why are we here?" Vic asked.

"I'd rather Boris filled everyone in, I think. But you need to tell us about your friends. But wait until Boris... oh, wait," Robert looked over to the doorway where their host had just appeared, "here he is now."

Acknowledging the greetings he received, Boris held up a paw. "Before I begin, I need to make a couple of introductions. We know each other, of course, but Vic has brought some new members of our family." Boris paused a moment to clear his throat and there were a few whispered exchanges as he did so. "Walt, some of you know; he's Vic's cub. That handsome dark haired bear next to Walt is his cub's cub, Mitch. Gentlemen," Boris indicated they should stand.

They did, briefly. Mitch was embarrassed.

"I feel we're intruding, in a way," Mitch said, unconsciously leaning a bit closer to Walt.

"No, you needn't feel that way. Vic assures me we can depend completely on you. Coming from him, that's high praise. It's certainly enough for all of us." Boris next looked at Rusty and Moose.

"But these two are a different story. Vic tells me they are both very new weres, changed under some, ah, very unusual circumstances. This is Moose, and his mate Rusty." Before they could rise, René spoke up.

"Boris, I thought you called each of us here because we were older, experienced bears. It is wise, do you think, to have these unknown quantities participating? How do we know we can trust their discrétion? They have no background, no experience with ze life of ze were." René's French Canadian accent was getting the better of him, as it usually did when he was agitated.

"I agree a hunnerd percent! This is just askin' for trouble." Larry, spoke with characteristic bluntness. Moose started to growl, but Vic put a restraining paw on his thigh before he could say anything. Vic's voice rose over Larry's Texas drawl.

"Look, I can see how this could be worrisome for us. I know there are good reasons for wanting only older experienced werebears dealing with serious issues. I appreciate everyone's concern. It's true, neither Moose nor Rusty have had much time at all as werebears, Rusty has only just made his first change..."

Before he could continue, Larry spoke. "There. Ya see? Y'all admit these guys are just cubs fresh outta tha den. I think..."

Boris spoke firmly. "Larry, let Vic finish." Vic nodded in thanks at Boris, but Larry didn't sit.

"For reasons that are kinda complicated, I just didn't feel I could leave these guys on their own. Besides, Rusty hadn't made his first change when Boris called; that happened on the way here. I had to bring them." Vic took a slow sip of his beer and then looked directly at Boris and Boris alone.

"If you think my new kin shouldn't be here, for security or any other reason, well and good. They will leave, with no hard feelings and no delay." Moose nearly jumped up, but this time, it was Rusty who restrained him. "But if they go, I'll go too." Vic sat.

Boris looked worried. "Vic, there's no need for that. They can easily stay here, and..." Vic interrupted.

"No, these bears are my family and we need to be together just now. Maybe it's just best if we leave now."

Walt and Mitch started to get up as the room was filled with bearish voices, arguing loudly. The weres that knew Vic personally, Boris and Robert, were inclined to allow the new weres to stay, at least to hear what the problem was if not to participate in its solution. René and Larry, who had not met Vic before this day, were opposed.

Boris took control of things. "Bears, please!" The room went quiet, "This is... unseemly. We always welcome new our new brethren, yet here we seem to be driving the newest of our family away. I propose a compromise. Moose and Rusty are very welcome to stay here for a long as necessary, and that they be permitted to at least hear what brings us together. They may as well know both the negative as well as the positive side to their new lives." Such was Boris' position of respect in the werebear community that there were reluctant murmurs of agreement from René and Larry. "Afterwards, we can discuss our new kindred in more detail." There were a few more mutterings that faded away. Boris cleared his throat. "Gentlemen, we have a rogue bear."

There was a somewhat stunned silence that was finally broken by René. "This is indeed a serious business. We haven't had a rogue in many decades, at least a hundred years. Is this certain?"

"It's closer to a hundred and fifty, the incident during the gold rush in Colorado." Boris interjected and some of the bears nodded knowingly. "When Robert came to me with this information, I too was doubtful. We police ourselves well, and the old legends give us both stern cautions as well as sound advice. But Robert assured me that the facts were not to be disputed. There is a werebear, named Sebastian, now living in Montana, who is changing men, some of whom are not kindred. His purpose appears to be the creation of a sort of gang, and he appears to be calling attention to himself and his 'family' through criminal activities. Already, there has been unwelcome attention. We all know we cannot just let human justice take its course, but things are getting more tangled by the day, it seems."

A chorus of voices rose, all questioning at once.

"Where are these guys?"

"Tangled? How?"

"Who are they, do we know their names?"

"What criminal activities?"

"Whyer we pussyfootin' around? We need to git movin'."

"Have you had contact with this guy, Robert?"

"Yes, has anyone confronted this guy?"

The hubbub grew. Vic's voice rose over the others, "Yes. We need more information. We don't want to walk into this blind."

"Way ahead of you." Robert looked around at the gathered bears, and Boris raised a paw for quiet and nodded that he should proceed.

"I've made it my business to find out everything I could about this guy, mostly because Steve was a dear friend. This Sebastian is some piece of work in a nasty, thuggish sort of way. Sebastian's always been in trouble... school, work, you name it. Always small stuff, nothing really big; and he's a charming guy, he was usually able to talk his way out of any major trouble; but it adds up. A number of run-ins with the police, mostly small time stuff again, but enough so that when he was convicted of breaking and entering, his record got him a two year stretch in the state prison at Windsor." There was a rustle among the bears. "Ah, I wondered if that would ring a bell with someone."