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Epilogue book one – Jackie Strader Age 16.

The doctor kindly waits for me to stop curling into a ball from the pain before removing one of the two i.v. bags.

“I'll remove the antibiotic one when it's empty and move you to a pill based one afterward. We'll also start transitioning you to an over the counter pain med later today. Now lift that blanket again, so I can take a look at your leg to see how it's progressing." Complying without a word I lift it and move the injured leg enough for her to take a look. For the next several minutes I watch as she does a through visual examination of each stitch.

Next she starts to touch various parts of my leg on and around the wound. I'm supposed to nod or shake my head depending on if I feel her fingers and if I feel any pain. Only whining when her fingers touch the stitches over the bullet wound itself.

“Everything's healing properly, Your tenderness is from the stem cells taking hold and replacing the damaged tissue. We may be able to discharge you next week if you can keep up this pace." She drapes the blanket over me before I could even ask for it. It's a bit chilly in here without it.

For the next few minutes she taps things into the wrist mounted pad. Once finished she smiles, points out the location of the call button if I need anything, then leaves the room. My expectation of Patrick reentering the room doesn't happen, leaving me alone in here for the first time since I woke up.

I'd wonder where he went, but he did say he was sleeping in here earlier. So maybe he went to get something to eat. Speaking of which, when will I be fed now that they don't have to use that tube.

Glancing about I spot the remote for the flat screen on the table next to my bed. It's paper light and looks newer than any other remote I've seen. Still works like all the others and I use it to turn on the flat-screen, then turn it down as it was set too loud! I'm taken aback by the sheer amount of channels I can choose from. Last time I had a working T.V. all I could get were the three or so over the air digital ones, until that set was stolen that is.

Some shows I recognize, others I don't. All of them seem to be made only for the Canadian audience. English and what I think written french for the subtitles cover the bottom of the screen. There's even some in what's possibly spoken french considering they only have English subtitles.

Nothing seems to grab my attention, so I settle for some kind of quiz show with a human host, two human contestants, and a female Blue-jay Bio-morph contestant. Only when they take a commercial break I find out that it's the Canadian version of jeopardy. Better than nothing, so I leave it on to try to focus on and ignore aches from my leg.

The Blue-jay bio-morph is hands down beating her two human competitors, she has nearly twice the money than the human in second place. What surprises me is none of the three humans seem to mind. Quite the opposite, there's friendly banter between them. It could be her elegant song like voice with her vocalizations. Whatever it is I'm yawning as I watch it, before I know it I drift off into a dreamless nap.

The click of the door handle of my door being pushed down startles me awake. Yipping in surprise and fumbling for the remote I watch as Patrick enters. Said remote fell into my lap while I slept, picking it up I shut the TV off. Glancing at the clock as he walks up to me I see it's now mid-afternoon, I've slept for hours. How is that possible? shouldn't be so tired after having been unconscious for two weeks.

'Hello' I say in the tongue to him. Nodding with a smile he goes to sit down in one of the chairs in here. So focused on him that I failed to notice he wasn't alone. Standing just inside the doorway is my mother.

She's as thin as I remember her, only a little older. The stress of me going missing must have done it. I don't recall her having the dress she has on, but it's okay. Our eyes meet but I break it first, while she hasn't run, yet, she still can. I can still feel her eyes on me and I self consciously pull the hospital blanket up to my neck.

“You weren't joking about this, were you Patrick?" Barely above a whisper But I can still hear it plain as day. Patrick looks over at her, he must've heard her too.

“Of course not! I wouldn't joke about something like this. Despite how she looks, she's still your son. And my best friend." Rubbing her shoulder just behind the attachment point, a nervous action of hers. She closes the distance between the door and the bed I'm on. Patrick vacates his chair and moves it to she can take a seat next to me using one of the other chairs.

Ears forward and erect I look at her, but not in the eyes. I know that eye contact is important but I down right compelled to not appear aggressive to my mom. I also want to hug her, but I know I should let my mother determine the pace of this reunion. I watch her head as she looks me over from head to toe. Slowly she reaches up with her good arm and picks up the edge of the blanket, part of me wants to yank it out of her hand but I don't listen to it.

I let her lower it down to my lap, she pauses for a minute or so. Then she lifts up the rest and looks under the blanket, again, staring for another minute or so. When she's satisfied she lets the blanket go and it comes to rest in my lap. Of course, I'm naked underneath. So the exposure causes the two obvious reactions one would expect. The polite cough and blushing from Patrick as he tries to give the impression he's not looking, and the fact the cold air in here's causing my nipples to harden.

“If it wasn't for the fact that those assholes most likely coded for it. I would say you got your looks from your dad's side of the family and not mine." Ear-blushing I yank the blanket back up to my neck, but I leave my arms out this time. Mom lifts one of my arms up and I let her. She runs her hand through the fur gently but curiously.

“How much of the Jack I raised is still in there? I've heard and seen things." Her hand moves back to doing that nervous tick of rubbing her shoulder. I hate being unable to speak. Glancing about I spot the whiteboard back where it's supposed to be on the wall. One of the nurses must've put it back. Patrick is one step ahead of me, retrieving it and handing it to me.

'Truthfully, All of him. Yet at the same time, I feel like a different person than whom I was back then. Stating the obvious, but I feel I should be truthful mom.' Showing the whiteboard to her causes mom to freeze in place. I fear I've said the wrong thing, only to be proven wrong when she moves the whiteboard aside. Then pulls me up a bit from my sitting position to fiercely hug me. Her prosthetic limb pokes into my back, but that's not what's causing the most pain. And forcing me to whimper. It's the position my injured leg is in now. Mom's quick to notice and lets me go.

“I'm sorry. I- I just thought I had lost you! I feared you were one of the many residents that just gave up. Went out somewhere to commit suicide." She wipes away some tears, then fusses about how rumpled the blanket looks on me and how my leg is positioned.

“When Patrick told me he'd found you and you'd been converted into a Bio-Morph I thought it was a sick prank. I admit, I got more angry than I should. I had just learned about, well, everything." I actually have to stop her from continuously adjusting my blanket. Mom just turns her attention to my head fur and face.

“ I stopped my stubbornness and flat out refusal of the truth when he showed me the dna tests. I'll be honest as well. I was still holding out hope you'd be, well how you were. Oh, your hair, sorry head-fur is a mess." That's what you're caring about? Mom fishes through her purse and pulls out a brush. I only weakly protest her brushing it.

“It's such a weight off my chest to know you're alive. Yet I can't help but feel angry at the people who changed you. And put you through the hell in that brothel. At least I have you back. We can just move on from there." Seems Patrick gave her the basic idea on what happened, but I feel I should tell her regardless. Honestly, the brushing does feel kinda nice. I should try to make this conversation less one sided though. When mom gives me some space I pick the whiteboard back up.

'Hell's a good way to describe it. And so that you'd know, for months part of its due to my own making. I'll have to tell you about it later. Writing like this takes too long and it's not a short story.' I hold my finger up and show it to her as a way to say I'm not done. Then erase it to continue.

'There's one important question I have to ask. As I said I'm a different person. I'm not the son you raised. What I want to know is if you would accept me as your daughter instead? We can start off on a new foot with only a little awkwardness, considering I'm technically sixteen again. Yea, that's part of same story. Also- Also I found someone I like, a lot.' Mom smiles as I show it to her.

“That goes without saying. Your still my child under those ears and fur. What it does mean is I'll have to get you a new set of clothes. The stuff I brought with me won't fit you anymore." She gives me another look over. “Well the pants won't. Your old shirts could be used as nighties." ear-splaying I sigh. You had to poke at how short I'm now didn't you? Mom just smiles.

“Let me guess, the person you have an interest in is the other Bio-morph in the room next door? Ashley?" Okay, now I ear-blush. While I'd consider Ashley close, I don't know how to pin it exactly. I know she's latched onto me as her Alpha female. So does that mean she's my beta? Is this what it feels like to have a beta? These are odd feelings I'll have to sort out later, right now I need to correct mom.

'It's Patrick mom. Not Ashley. I've accepted I'm female up to and including that aspect.' This time it's her turn to blush, that's what it looks like anyway. Next thing I know she ruffles my head-fur while giggling causing me to drop the whiteboard onto my lap.

“I knew I should've guessed that. I just didn't want to assume that part of you changed without asking. Wait till Patrick's mother hears about this! She's said for years that with how close you two are, one of you was born the wrong gender." Patrick blushes this time.

“Ms Strader. I'll tell mom when I'm ready. We only just agreed to um, this, this morning when she woke up." Mom nods and gives him a light hug.

“Take your time Patrick, never rush a relationship." She then turns to me. “Jack, I don't want you to take this the wrong way. Or make you feel awkward, But, can I rub one of your ears? The way you're moving them about reminds me of the dog I had growing up." I blink and look at mom. This is certainly not the way I expected this to go, but. I guess it would be alright. She would've done it all the time if I had actually grown up like this.

Gently nodding I push myself up a little more and tilt my head in her direction. She smiles at me and reaches up to pet the fur on my head a couple of times. Then moves her hand to my left ear. Her hands gently rub it and I can feel her fingers going through the velvet thin fur on the backside. I kinda melt and my tail wags, or tries to.

Alpha did this when she had to calm me down. Especially after the incident with the asshole sixteen. It feels different to have my own mother do it. Mom laughs when my tail manages to move enough that it's thumping against the mattress.

She stops when a polite knock on the hospital room door echos through the room. The door opens and an older man in a suit and tie enters. His looks screaming either governmental or financial he smiles politely to mom. She stops rubbing my ear and goes to shake his hand. Patrick stands and moves another chair closer to my bed as then sets up the meal table for the hospital bed. Unfolding it from the side and locking it in place.

“Jack, this is Steve, an official in the Canadian naturalization and immigration service. He's the main reason I didn't come back in here after the doctor visited. Now that you're awake time is of the essence for your official paperwork. We can't hide you as anonymous anymore. We've done this before so it's not that hard, just a lot of paperwork to sign." Didn't expect this but I give a small nod even though I'm kinda confused.

Steve takes the seat Patrick placed next to me and sets a leather bound suitcase on one side of the table. I knew I couldn't use my old name here in Canada. Does changing it require this kind of effort? He opens the suitcase and takes out a thick folder full of papers. They're placed in front of me.

“Hello Ms Jack Strader. I've heard you've had an interesting trip to get here." That's an understatement if I have ever heard one.

“I'm sure this isn't something you'd imagine you'd have to do after making it here. Sadly the Canadian government doesn't like illegal immigrants in their country. On top of that we're 'technically' " he uses his hands to make air-quotes. “Supposed to return runaways. But as far as I tell, you're not a runaway." I think I know where this is going.

“You're a citizen that's lost their paperwork. I'm just here to help you reacquire it. After all accidents and thefts happen." He motions for me to open the folder in front of me, I do so.

The first page is a birth certificate, hard not to recognize one with it titled as such. And of course the name on it is different compared to mine. I'm just surprised they used the impromptu one that they used when I was admitted to the hospital.

Jackie. Oh well, makes it easier I guess. The field for a family name's empty, but the note field under it says 'Strader by adoption'. Of course the date of birth's set at a date that officially puts my age at sixteen, by about a month.

Birth parents boxes are filled with Jane fox as the mother, and Jack wolf as the father. It takes me a moment to realize that it's the bio-morph equivalent of the Jane/John doe. A polite way to say their names are unknown. I expect to see F put in the gender field of course, but instead it says 'see attached sheet per amendment c25-2018'. By the time I reach this part Steven has taken out what I can tell by scent are cleaning wipes and an ink-pad.

“Luckily paw and foot pad prints change little between cub and adulthood. So the first thing you need to do 'Jackie', is use this to take prints of your fingers in the correct fields." he hands me the case containing the ink-pad.

“When you're done either I or your 'adoptive' mother can do your feet." Nodding I get to work filling each field with the corresponding print. Wrinkling my nose at how the ink outright stinks. The cleaning wipe's not much better but it does clean all the ink off, I hand the case to mom and try not to giggle as she does my feet.

After it's placed back in front of me I flip the page to see the 'attached sheet'. Holy hell! There must be over seventy 'genders' listed here! I just stare at it wide-eyed and ears forward.

“Just mark 'female' with an X or a check mark. The amendment was added during the 'social justice' craze going around in the first couple of decades of the century. The current administration will be voting on a bill to remove this and other things from official records." Female, where's female in this la-la land list of things. Noticing my confusion he points it out. Somewhere near the bottom labeled 'cis-female'.

“Which means we will have to fill this stuff out again if you don't mark female. Its kinda funny how all that just up and vanished when they grew up and had to join the real world. Not to mention the economic downturn that hit when Bio-morphs were created." I was born a bit before their reveal. So I was too young to remember the start of the bio-morph revolution. Growing up through the effects of it sucked will forever be etched in my mind. Now according to this, it happened many years before I'm born.

Before handing it over to him I notice there's also; female presenting, demi-female, twin spirit-female dominant, and finally the weirdest, female centered head system. Calling mom's generation absolutely nuts is an understatement. Steve takes the birth certificate and slides it into a folder in his briefcase.

“Good. Next up is your national id card and your learners permit. They've already been made, but you need to fill out the forms for the hard copy records in your own handwriting." Mentally sighing at all the blank parts I have to fill out I remove one of the cards off the paper clip holding them to the paper.

I've heard that the photo's always make you look worse than you actually are, but this is ridiculous. I look kinda 'out of it' in the drugged sort of way in the photo. Questioningly glancing at Patrick for an explanation, he shrugs. Mom's no help either.

“We took the photo when you were admitted. You were semi lucid and it took several tries to get a shot with your eyes open." The official speaks up upon noticing my confusion.

“Well retake the photo's for your id's later. Right now just focus on filling out the forums as they are shown on the cards. I need to get these into the system as soon as possible to prevent unwanted questions." Steve taps the form for the national id in front of me.

“Just like the birth certificate, choose female again rather than all the other choices, or we will have to do this 'again' next week." Using the pen he gave me earlier, I start the long task of filling it out. Pausing upon finding the 'school' field filled. Simply glancing up causes him to speak up.

“I'm sure you know what your current biological age is Jackie. Eighteen is Canada's legal adult age. You're sixteen, you're a minor again. A High-school student to be precise. The paper work for that is further in the pile. Not to mention your 'adoptive' mother has some to fill out herself." Lightly whining I finish off the id form, hand it to him, and start on the learners permit form. Of course, he hands the card to mom.

“I'm gonna find a cute little purse for you to hold this and the others." I lay my ears flat back. I may like being female now. No way in hell am I going to start acting girly girl. This gets a laugh out of her as I fill out the learner's permit paperwork, hand it to Steve, and mom gets the card again. Slowly putting it in her own purse. I now realize where I got my prankster attitude.

The next page is another form with another card. Only I don't recognize it. Picking it up I look it over before looking at Steve.

“That's your mass transit card. Your new home is in the burbs on the edge of the inner part of the city. Placing it at the edge of the nicknamed 'fur town'. Basically the Bio-Morph district." It surprises me, don't know why. That there would be a ghetto for lack of a better term for us.

“You will use this card to ride the tram on heavy smog days. As well as odd weeks during the summer when internal combustion engines are banned. You have a beat up internal combustion car from the 2020's as a learner. Which is part of the reason you only have a learners permit and not a full driver's license. The other part being a full license is harder to forge." Being near absolutely broke growing up means I've never learned how to. I wonder if they have to alter anything for us Bio-Morphs and our digitgrade legs?

Filling the forum out like the rest I hand it to him. Same as the other two the card gets handed to mom, who grins. I swear if you get a purse mom, I'll tear it up like what happens when a puppy finds a new pair of shoes.. Speaking of which, that will be the first thing I want is a pair of goddamn shoes. I'm done with being barefoot.

What's underneath is the thickest of the stack. It is the admittance and legal work forms for the hospital I am in right now. Some of it is already filled out and it has tape pointers at parts I need to; read, sign, or fill out. I'm pretty sure they only present these after the person is treated enough to understand. It would be stupid otherwise.

“Those are your admittance forums Jackie. We need to make a detailed paper trail so no one asks any unwanted questions." Makes sense.

“The official story, if anyone bothers to look into it, will be similar to what happened. Both you and your sister were shot at by an anti-bio-morph individual. You, Jackie got hit in the leg. Christine, got her ear nicked." Picking up the whiteboard I ask about the name and the sister thing.

“Yes Jackie, that's Ashley's new name, and she's now legally your sister. Well, once the paperwork goes through. Now, make sure you memorize this. Instead of trying to flee here to Canada. You and your sister were walking home from the rural school you and her attended. In the small town about fifty miles west from here. A local who had a bit too much to drink and armed with a pistol saw you two pass by and started following you. He opens fire on the both of you after you make it to an isolated part of town. His drunk state saves your lives as he lacks the coordination to aim properly." Geese, a bit stereotypical there Steve?

“Stereotyping, I know. We're aiming for normal here. An attack of some magnitude happens once a month or so outside of the larger cities here in Canada. No one is going to look twice or investigate further. I can promise you that." I'll hold you to that if it comes into question.

“Which reminds me. The police report is after this bit of paperwork. It's been typed up so all it needs is your signature and your mother's. Anyway, Christine's pack instincts kick in, she chases him off and drags you to the hospital. Not being equipped for such an injury for your species, they have you transferred here. Your mother decides to move here to fur town for your safety." Alright, but I hope this doesn't cause some innocent person to get blamed for something that didn't happen. I ask Steve about this.

“No witnesses, Christine was hysteric and in the grip of P.I.D., which she has by the way. So she couldn't give a detailed description. You didn't see the guy either. So they close the case pending further information. One of the main reasons your mother moved you here. That's her part of the story." I don't like it but I'll accept it. What's P.I.D. though?

“I'll let your mother fill you in on that. Anyway, your wound is cleaned topically and closed up. Only for infection to set in. The rest is the same, you're in a coma for about two weeks, only to wake up today." Letting out a sigh I fill out the Hospital paperwork, already getting used to writing my new name. I know for a fact Ashley will have a harder time, hers is nowhere near the same as her birth name. Placing the completed sheets in Steve's hands I sign the police report underneath and hand it to him too.

“Next is your High-School paperwork and your school ID. You should know the drill by now. The only thing to note here is our schools are highly connected. There is a district wide social media site for all the students and teachers. We're almost completely paperless, a specially designed tablet will be issued to you via this information. Used for textbooks and your homework. Lacking an external computer or internet connection right now you need to check box three in section five. Then you can ignore all the fields asking for email and social media pages." That's higher tech than the last one I went too.

Handing it over to Steve I tilt my head at the next form and card. Alpha permit? What's that? So, I use the whiteboard to ask about it.

“That's the reason I was late. Otherwise, I would've been here a few hours ago. A secondary DNA test done on your current genome showed the proper genes and gene expressions for being a pack Alpha. This means a few things, unlike non-alpha Bio-morphs. Your growth doesn't stop at sixteen or seventeen. In fact your recorded height upon admittance here is already an inch more than your product page for Marui's before they took it down. Your most likely going to stop growing about the same time humans do. Between twenty and twenty-five." That has to be the best new's I've heard besides waking up here! I'm not going to be so damn short anymore!

“Secondly, it means you can dominate other Bio-Morphs. Command them to join a 'pack' you control, if they are not already in one. Or, take someone from another Alpha's pack if their hold is weak or if you dominate their Alpha. Laws regarding this were the next laws concerning Bio-Morphs passed after declaring them people and citizens. The card shows you've been through the required classes, taught to use this responsibly, and understand the consequences if you don't. You and your sister are already listed as Alpha and Beta respectively. She'll be informed of her rights regarding the situation. We take pack forming seriously here in Canada." What kind of power do they think I have?

'You act as if I can order them to do anything I want, and they don't have a will of their own?' Holding up the whiteboard to Steve. He sighs.

“You can. Well, to frank, for a normal Beta, your order will be 'highly suggestive'. They can resist it, it just won't be as easy as me ordering you to do something you don't want to do. Throw in Pack Instinct Disorder, and you can near completely dominate a Beta that has it. Like your sister." That would explain a few things. Her withdrawing into herself after what Christopher did to her for one.

“Mutations in the enhanced lupine instinct genes, possibly an error in the design that turned out favorable to the company that 'created' bio-morphs causes it. No cure as no one can make one without violating international patent law sadly. Therapy and desensitivity training can allow them to leave normalish lives thankfully. So if you order Christine to do anything, and you do so as an Alpha. She'll do it no questions ask, as long as you're 'her' Alpha. From what I can tell, she's pretty strongly imprinted onto you so you'll have to be extra careful." I don't know what to say about this. I've never had this kind of power over someone and it honestly kinda scares me.

'How is this possible?' Quickly asking.

“Same as it is done in nature among wild wolves. Instinct, pheromones, and unconscious body language. It's just, a lot more complicated with sentience being layered on top." No kidding. To say the least, this is going to take some getting used to.

Filling out the 'Alpha card' form I realize that if I'm going to keep growing, does that mean my breasts will too? Sigh, that deflates my enthusiasm for not being so short. There big enough as it is and while I love rubbing and groping them during masturbation. Any bigger and I'll start having back problems. My ears wilt, memories of seeing some bigger breasted girls being viciously teased and bullied surface from the last time I attended High School. Never thought in a million years did I think I would be in that position, but it looks like I will.

“Just a few more to go Jackie." Heh, kinda funny you think that's why I did that. Anyway I hand him the paperwork, he hands mom the card and I get to work on what's left.

A bank account for a debit card, something everyone my age would have even during the last time I was sixteen. The card will be mailed later I guess since it's not with the paperwork. Next is an employment authorization for a minor form. Yea, as eager as I am now to have some money, I don't know how to feel about this one. I'll think about it later, I've got something else I want to know first. So after handing him the last form and the folder I pick up the whiteboard again.

'What's your relationship to the group employing Patrick? Is the Canadian government helping them? Funding them?' As I was writing Steve has taken out a stack of paperwork for mother to fill out. A light yip gets his attention and I show him the whiteboard.

“Officially? No relationship whatsoever, up to and including arrest if they are caught with licit substances. Unofficially, as long as we don't find Bio-Morphs with drugs on them, or any evidence they crossed the border. We do what I am doing here. Creating an official identity for the poor souls such as yourself and 'Christine' who seek a life here. Sadly, those drones are getting more numerous and more sophisticated. So its not as easy as it once was for your kind to slip through the cracks." Okay, so that's how it is; hear no evil, see no evil. Got it.

Leaning back into the lumpy hospital bed with a sigh I glance over to mom. She's filling out the bare bones of nine years of school records for me, and, Ashl- I mean Christine. Since that's her name now. Just like me she has to fabricate some of her background, but only minor things like our adoption along with the reason she emigrated.

Instead of coming here recently, she immigrated about the same time we moved into the jobless center. Moved around for a few years, then settled down in the same small town were we were 'shot' at.

Mom then adopted two orphan female bio-morph fox breed kits. Me and Christine. Christine being the eldest by a year and I'm the youngest. Just recently born. I guess the fake me and 'Christine' have to come from somewhere. Fabricated test records showing of course I have activated Alpha genes and Christine suffering from P.I.D.

They note that once we started attending school we took the same classes. Mainly because Christine latched onto me as her alpha at a young age. Holding Christine back a year was seen as less cruel than forcing us to be apart.

What comes next causes my ears to splay, what's with the embarrassing record? Picking up the whiteboard I'm about to ask only to be stopped by Steve raising his hand.

“Squeaky clean records raise questions. Having minor incidents litter your records make them seem real. Don't worry about it, not uncommon for natural born bio-morph cubs act like this." Doesn't make it any less embarrassing.

“As far as anyone should be concerned about you two, both you and Christine are natural born." Did I have to do 'that'? As a cub, in fourth grade I took off my clothes. Then ran around stark naked during a day we had indoor recess due to weather. On all fours no less!

What's worse is that Ashl-, god this is going to be annoying for a while, I mean Christine followed suit. We were chased around for about a half hour before being forced to put our clothes back on and taken to the principal's.

Grumbling I decide to turn my attention to what's on T.V. rather than what they're talking about. So picking up the remote I start surfing the channels. Eventually finding one I can use to tune them out. It works, right up till Mom reaches the paperwork for the sixth grade and the word 'heat' draws my attention.

Christine, according to these records. Goes into heat the fall of sixth grade and is excused from school for a week and a half. What a hell of a way to start off puberty. During that time I'm excused halfway through the day. So I can spend the rest with her, keeping her under control. Seems the first one can be rather rough.

It's also to prevent anything awkward from happening between the students. By awkward, they must mean causing all the boys who hit puberty as well from wanting to fuck her.

Then it's my turn during the fall of the seventh grade. Picking up the whiteboard as my ears fiercely blush, I write down two words. 'Heat Blocker?'

“Heat Blockers were banned five years ago. Studies showed that the only ones that work depressed the immune system, greatly increasing the risk of fatal infections. On top of that, those who've been using them for years, voluntarily or not, got uterine cancer." Holy hell that makes me glad I only had one dose. I'm also worried what's going to happen to me come fall with my 'first' unblocked heat.

My ears droop while I hug myself. Alpha's answer to what happens during heat was more or less it depends on the person. It's little comfort that I've accepted being female because the idea that I may become sex crazed for up to a week kinda scares me.

I need a distraction, so I try to focus on Mom and Steve working on the remaining paperwork. From Grade school to middle school things more or less progress as they did before, only this time with a female tint. Many instances of teasing and bullying from my rapidly developing looks.

There's only one major incident on my middle school record. Hurting a human female classmate over being called a prostitute. Tame considering the fights I got into last time to stop being bullied for living in the jobless center. Girls do tend to only resort to violence when all social and reputation ruining means are exhausted from what I recall. No punches, big bruises or black eyes and broken noses. Many claw and nail marks. A few bites, and some missing hair and fur.

While Mom puts a final few signatures on the paperwork Patrick moves closer to me on the other side of the bed. He starts petting my head, relaxing me from my worry induced tension. I gently grab his arm and upon tugging on it he moves closer to me. The second his head is in range I lean over and start licking his face.

Not the best tasting thing, I can taste what he used as aftershave, but it calms me and makes me feel. Happy? Yea happy. Steve makes a polite coughing noise.

“A word of advice. Only privately should you do such acts. In public, you will have to restrain form it at all costs." He puts all the paperwork away in his briefcase, double checking everything got done.

“Because in the eyes of the Canadian government Jackie Strader, You're a minor. Mr. Tanner here is in his mid to late twenties. While I do understand your previous friendship may have grown since being reunited and you're essentially an adult in a child's body. The public at large won't see it that way, neither will the law. I am sure you realize what this will mean for your friend right?" Slowly I let go of Patrick's arm, he in turn sits back up straight. It means Patrick risks committing pedophilia as I am now underage.

“Before you ask, the answer is no. There's no Romeo and Juliet law either provincially or federally here in Canada. Even if there was, your age gap would be too wide." Closing it with a secure sounding snap, he lifts the briefcase off the table and gives a polite bow to Patrick, me, and my mother.

“Sorry. I may have sounded a bit harsh, but the consequences would be damning for Mr Tanner and even after all this is in the system next month. It won't hold up to a full legal investigation. There's a rather large segment of the population that view you, and everyone else makinging it here too, as illegal immigrants. They would gladly dump you back over into the united states to fend for yourself." Which more or less means I would be sold back into slavery with no hope this time of escape. They're stricter and less trusting of Bio-Morphs that have escaped once before.

Watching as he leaves the room I let out a sigh. My enthusiasm at exploring the new nature of our relationship has been greatly deflated. Because he's right, as long as I'm in the hospital and every time I'm out in public or where the public can see me. I'll have to act my part as being a minor and I can't show anything more than platonic friendship to Patrick.

“Jack- I mean Jackie, Damn this is going to be hard. Anyway, I hope you realize I was only joking right? I'd never force anything on you that you didn't want." Glancing over to mom I nod. Of course, you were joking.

“I will state that I do think you'd look good in a dress. I do realize you may not be ready to wear such things yet, if at all. So I try to not push it. Nothing wrong with being a tomboy," It's kinda nice feeling to have her understand without me even having to tell her. I tilt my ear and then my head a little at that word before I remember what it means.

I just have to laugh. A girl that acts like a boy and or enjoys things defined as boyish. I fall right into that because of everything that has happened. Of course my laughs come out as yip's and amused geckers.

“Did I say something wrong? I'm still learning their language." Mom suddenly looks worried putting a damper on my mirth. I vigorously shake my head as Patrick laughs.

“She's laughing. Those are similar to the noises the Vulpine breeds make when laughing. Some yip more, others gecker. Most usually do both." Mom's worried expression is replaced with a smile.

“To be honest, I'm just glad you're alive. It does mean I'm going to have to clean up the two extra rooms upstairs for you and your 'sister'." She starts counting on her normal hand with her prosthetic one.

“Not to mention getting you both new clothes. I do hope you realize you won't fit into your old ones. Get you some basic furniture. Oh, and stock up on more food. I have two growing girls to feed. Well, one growing girl to be technical. Oh, you know what I mean." Yea I know. Just nothing to girly please? I don't want to go to my new home and find my room covered in pink and pastels!

“Don't worry. I won't get anything girly for you." Again it's like she's reading my mind. She ruffles the fur on my head, I let her of course.

“Other than the obvious. You're going to need bras and panties. They registered your measurements after you were admitted. No skirts or dresses. T-shirts, maybe a blouse or two. Shorts but not short-shorts or hot-pants. To early for long pants so can't get those yet." They did what while I was unconscious?! I pick up the whiteboard.

'Is there anything else they did to me while I was unconscious? From where I'm sitting it seems they did everything short of a full body cavity search.' Mom just looks at me seriously while Patrick laughs.

“Yea they did that too." We stare at each other for a few moments before Mom bursts out laughing.

“Gotcha. No they didn't. The reason they took your measurements was to be able to give you a set of proper clothing when you're discharged. You were admitted stark naked." She pauses. “Oh! Shoes. I almost forgot shoes. You're going to need them despite how thick your foot-pads are." Wait shoes. Now you're talking! After all that time having to walk through the cold and the snow. Then that fucking hike up here without them. I Never want to be without a pair.

I write this down and show it to mom, she just looks back confused. Patrick smirks at this almost breaking out into a laugh. You'd not find it that funny if you have to walk on that steel grating in sub-zero weather!

“I thought you didn't want anything girly? Granted you do have a good reason to want them, but you do realize that not only it's a stereotypical girly girl behavior to obsess over shoes. All Bio-Morph shoes look girly because they all look like high heels or ballerina shoes despite what color or style they make them. Except for the hoofed and avian Bio-Morphs, those look plain weird." I didn't consider that, though it does make sense.

We walk on our toes rather than the flat part of our feet. It's natural for us and it makes it stranger to think that human women tried to force themselves to walk that way for centuries.

'I do, I just don't want to be without anything between my feet and the floor ever again. Slippers, shoes, high-heels, I don't care what they look like. Just get a few pairs if you can afford it.' Mom nods when I show the whiteboard to her. God I hope I can find a teacher, so I can speak rather than resort to this. She nods lightly while looking a bit confused but that's soon replaced with a smile.

“I think all I can afford right now is a pair of slippers and some sneaker like outdoor shoes. I'll bring them tomorrow so you can wear the slippers while they keep you in here and the sneakers when they discharge you." I nod and pull the blanket up as it has slipped down a bit.

“Till tomorrow then. Be a good girl and behave yourself." Moving over she leans in and gives me a hug. I return it and rest my muzzle on her shoulder. Didn't notice before, but while she still smells like how I remembered as a human. With my enhanced sense of smell, it's so much more detailed to the point I sniff and huff into her neck to drink it in and memorize it.

Mom doesn't let go till I do. She smiles, pats my head, and heads out of the room. Patrick moves his chair closer again, filling the space vacated by mom. While I suspect she's leaving my ears twitch as she opens up the neighboring door. The one leading to where they have Ash- I mean Christine, yea this is going to take some effort to get right, where they have her sedated. I tune out their badly muffled conversation, or at least mom's side by reaching over and gently grabbing Patrick's arm.

“Not what you expected is it?" I know he's not talking about his arm. I had hoped I could resume at least a semblance of my old life once here. Not a completely new one. So I shake my head from side to side.

“You'll get used to it. I'll be there for you. So will my parents and your mother. I'll also find some way for us to, um." He stops talking, but the idea of what he means is fresh in my mind.

That's going to be the toughest part, for the next two years I lose all the freedoms I once had as an adult until my 'new' identity is one. Most of all I'll have to box up my feelings for him in public like this. Because right now I want nothing more than to lick his hand and arm. Yet I've only seen that done between Alpha and Marui so.. My ears droop to the sides inviting his hand to pat my head.

“Yea that. Look, how about I just sit with you for a bit? Would that make you feel better?" Nodding I let go of him long enough, so he can maneuver the furniture and lower the railing on the bed. With the chair so close its touching the mattress I can lean over and hug him shoulder wise. He returns the gesture.

“It won't be that bad. We're in the nice part of fur town. In a two story house with a basement. Pretty large so we're not so cramped. I'll be working on the car we got you in my free time. The engine's good, not much else but you know I can fix that." Yea. By the time he's done I'll have a close to vintage car as a single person can do.

“I'll also see if I can get someone to teach you the language, so we don't have to resort to using pads of paper or whatever. I do assume you know the basics right?" Nodding before looking at him.

'Yes. Alpha taugh- taught.' Still pretty far from speaking in a coherent sentience. He squeezes my shoulder a bit as I reach for the remote to change the channel.

“I've been meaning to ask. When you say Alpha, do you mean the pack position from the one we took you from or?" Putting down the remote I pick up the whiteboard.

'Both. The alpha female, the woman who helped me while I was there as also named Alpha.' I go on to describe how she and Mauri look and all that. I do miss them, but I have to realize I'll never see them again. No matter how much it hurts.

“They sound like nice people. Kinda sad they're treated like animals." I go back to flipping through channels before finding one.

“Oh, almost forgot to tell you. The school you'll be going to, While you were filling out some of those forms I looked it up on my phone. Most of the student population are Bio-Morph. Don't know how many naturals vs converted there are, but you factor in the average age of a high school student. Then compare to the time Bio-morphs started taking over en-mass in the United States. Well, it should be reasonable to assume that most are natural's." Shit, that's another thing to worry about?

How do naturals act? They're going to act different from humans who've been converted. The body they're in is the one they were born with. Am I going to be a freak for not having what would be considered natural subconscious body language?

“Was it something I said?" Oh, right, ears, and tail broadcast mood. I force the former back up to their normal position while writing my worries down on the whiteboard.

“While I don't envy you, after all our first trip through High-school was hell. I think you may be overthinking things. If I were you, I would worry more about the rumors that will be swirling around because of your looks." Rolling my eyes I huff at him. That much is obvious!

'I look better than many adults! Not to mention, god, I can't remember her name. You know who it was. That one girl who went to our high school junior year. The one who kept getting called a prostitute openly by the jocks? I think I'm bigger than her chest wise. Either that or they look and feel bigger because I'm so damn small.' Cupping and mushing together my bust as I talk, Patrick politely looks away.

“That would be the only thing you should be concerned with concerning school. After all, you're a teenager again, might as well enjoy it." He pauses. “You know, on the bright side you get to see parts of the school you didn't before." Yea, I guess you're right.

“What was the rumor going about when we were there? Oh, that the girl's locker room had a couch and carpeting." Yea and try as anyone might, no one would confirm nor deny it. Of course, in reality the place is most likely the same as the guy's. Just one of those weird things that causes your curiosity to pique because it's somewhere you can't go.

We settle into silence and watch the flat screen, that's until the door opens and, well. I smell her before I feel her grab my free arm on the other side of the bed. She's wearing the typical hospital gown. Why does she have one and I'm stark naked?

'Alpha jack! You're awake.' Wincing at how loud Ashley says, only to smile at the excitement in her voice. Patrick just laughs at this. He stops when Ashley tries to climb onto the bed, and of course it is on the side where my injured leg is so as he's trying to get her off. I cry out in pain from it, causing both of them to stop.

“Ashley. Look I know you're excited she's awake now. She's not healed and won't be for a while." Ashley awws. Damn, if I knew more of the language I could speak with her, also my writing arm is around Patrick's shoulders. I don't plan on moving it anytime soon.

Instead I pat Ashley's head and smile. Then point to a chair, then to the spot on her side of my bed where she can put it to be close to me like Patrick. He directs her on how to lower the railing on that side.

Dragging the chair over, she uses it more like a stool than a chair. Then surprises me by rubbing her muzzle under mine while gently rubbing my chin with the bridge of her nose.

“She actually does view you as her Alpha Jackie. That's a submissive gesture." My ears blush at this. It will take some getting used too, but it isn't a bad feeling to be honest. Ashley speaks but I don't understand what she says only for Patrick to point to me.

“Jack is Jackie. It will be her name once she's discharged. I'm sure 'your' new mother told you yours?" Ashley nods and I think only says one word. I kinda understand it but not fully. I'm guessing it is her new name. Christine.

Reaching up I pet the back of her head again and watch as her tail starts to wag. Mine would to, if I wasn't gently sitting against it. When I try to move, Ashley whines and I stop causing Patrick to laugh again. There's a knock on the door before I have my say in the matter, not that this is an uncomfortable position per se.

A different nurse from before. Male, younger. Possibly an intern enters no farther than a few feet from the doorway.

“Christine Strader? Your mother is here to pick you up. She's filling out your discharge papers." Ashley takes a moment to recognize that it's her name, only to whine and reluctantly let go. The nurse steps aside to let her pass by. He then looks at Patrick.

“Visiting hours also end in about ten minutes. Because she's out of her coma Mr Tanner, we can't count you as an exception anymore." Patrick gives me a pat on the head and then stands.

“See you in the morning." Saying goodbye I watch him leave. Okay I 'stare' at his rear end. I'll take what I can considering we're in public.

The nurse now fully enters the room, checks the remaining I.V., and raises the side rails on the bed.

“Dinner will be in an hour. We'll start you off on soft foods." Oh joy, oatmeal and the like. Sighing I lay back down in the bed and stare at the flat screen as he leaves. If that's all they're going to feed me, I'm counting the days till I can leave.