Tea had been dreading this moment since the previous year. His last season had not gone well at all. The season itself had not been so bad.

It was what happened after.

The Masters’ annual gathering had taken place late that year. Late enough that Tea had had to leave the second to last meeting in favor of slouching on a toilet in the men's restroom. At least he hadn't wandered into the women's this time. He had only done that a few times and it was usually because the signs just hadn't registered with him on his way in.

Granted, most would find it odd that someone who presumably had a male body was bleeding in the men's bathroom, and not from any injury. They would find it even stranger to catch him hyperventilating in hysterics. The day after tomorrow he was heading back to Jacksonville with Don, where he would then be confined to their penthouse. Over the years his cramps had become the slightest bit more bearable, but his mood swings never eased up. He was now panicking due to a drastic swing into the negative.

One year Rayne had given him emergency pads for this precise occasion. He kept them hidden in the lining of his winter coats, in the event his bleeding started too early. It was his emergency stash that had saved him here. As soon as he started bleeding he'd left the room.

But God, now he was crying.

In the same breath he had silently wished for privacy, he gasped at the sound of someone knocking on the door. He froze, anticipating Don's voice.

He heard worse.

“Lobo?” Tea let out a whine at Keoma's voice. “Are you alright? You have been in there for a while.” The man was what he liked to refer to as a meddler. He meddled with everyone. He meddled with the other Masters, he meddled with their inhuman partners, he meddled with Kiva, he meddled with Lola . . . Tea wondered if he had heard from Lola in a while. Tea had long since lost touch with her because she was allegedly busy.

It was bad enough Locklear always managed to stand two inches too close to Tea. Now he had Keoma tapping on the restroom door. Meddling.

A tongue flicked under the door. A quiet hiss of the word, “Por favor,” over and over told him Kiva wanted in. Tea whined once more, this time a bit louder. He didn't want to get up. Not with the Professor’s peuchen begging for the blood he no doubt sensed. It was almost frightening how quickly other beasts sensed his encroaching need.

He heard voices outside. Two male voices soon joined by a female. It was Daniel and Dalia. He knew the tone of their banter anywhere.

Daniel spoke up next. “Rowan? Kiva says you're not well.”

“Actually he didn't say anything he just led us to the source of the smell,” Dalia declared.

At that Tea shot up. He pulled himself together as best he could, ensured no blood was spilt or visible, flushed, then stepped outside and in a hushed tone retorted, “I'm fi—”

The remark turned into a canine squeal the second Kiva started climbing all over his body in search of an injury. “Kiva!” Keoma shouted, his partner weighing Tea down to the point the skinwalker’s knees were buckling under the peuchen. “Bajarte!” Before Kiva obeyed the order however, his tongue found the crotch of Tea's pants.

And Tea's mouth gaped in a startled, silent scream.

“Teach your snake some manners, Floresta!” Dalia snapped, Keoma forcibly pulling Kiva away from Tea's body. The snake went limp and allowed it, murmuring the same Spanish phrase it had been.

“He's better than this normally, I swear.” Keoma shouted another order to Kiva and sent him back down the hall to the meeting room. “Lo siento lobo, he really is only interested in blood.”

“Yes, he looked it,” Dalia growled.

It was Daniel who approached Tea though, asking, “Are you alright?”

Tea couldn't answer. He was rigid in place, shivering and squeezing his legs together. His mouth remained agape, so taken aback by the animal's assault that he couldn't react in any other way. In a moment, he started hyperventilating again. He had to leave the hall. He had to get back to his and Don's room before something bigger and less tame than Kiva decided he would make for a fun . . . toy.

“Rowan?”

“Lobo?”

“Rowan.” Tea jumped at the brush of fingers on his shoulder. He stared wide eyed straight ahead at Daniel. “Tell us what to do.”

It took effort. It took serious effort, but he managed to get his tongue moving enough to say, “Room. Please.”

From there Daniel was in control. “Keoma, go back to Kiva. Dalia, make sure the meeting is otherwise uninterrupted.”

Tea blinked. “You're not . . . gonna tell?”

“Why would we?” Daniel asked as the others returned without another word. Daniel started gently guiding Tea away from the restroom. Before the others were completely out of earshot, he told Tea, “They're worried too, but fewer people hovering over you would be less suspicious.”

Tea groaned, moving stiffly. Daniel had a hand on his lower back. It was hard speaking when someone was touching him but he tried anyway. His words came out soft and his sentences were barely pieced together, but he did what he could. “Kiva . . . could smell?”

“You know how he is when he's hungry. If we'd known about you, we would have kept a closer eye on him.”

Tea flushed red and looked down at the floor as they moved. “I didn't . . . want—”

“It was Idlewood’s responsibility to ensure your safety. He failed,” Daniel declared. He sounded so stern when he said it.

But . . ., “He does-s.”

“Maybe typically he does. This time he neglected to take Kiva into account.” Tea groaned, eyes askance. “Don't worry. We won't say anything. But you should.”

He whined, but didn't deny that he should. “'Kay.” If he agreed Daniel would think he would. Then he'd stay quiet himself. He wouldn't challenge Don.

“Are you really alright Rowan?” Daniel asked as he held the door to the stairs open and let Tea pass through the entrance first. “You look like you've been crying.”

With Daniel's hand no longer on him, Tea took a somewhat deeper breath. As long as he didn't look him in the eye or allow him to touch him again, he could probably brush the rest off as if nothing had happened. Save the implosion for later, for now he had to present as stable. One more deep breath. “This is just a stressful time for me.”

“Of course, docinho.” Tea didn't ask what that word meant. He assumed it to be another nickname. He had quite a few of those. “Have you any ways of quelling the pain?” Tea shook his head, before answering Daniel aloud. “If it is so painful, why do you take nothing for it?”

“I didn't think there was anything.” It didn't occur to him Daniel had stopped halfway down the flight they'd been on until he'd reached a pad and looked back to see the Conservationist looking down at him in puzzlement. “What?”

Daniel continued eyeing him in astonishment. Then, he shook his head and continued to follow him. “Let me talk to Dalia. We'll see if we can get you some pain relief.”

Tea shook his head. “You don't have to do that.” He knew the average medication didn't work on him. They couldn't possibly—

“Dalia has made quite a few advancements in helping inhumans in season with the many symptoms. She even found a sedative that makes the actual period bearable.” That did make Tea stop and turn back to Daniel, who in kind stopped right behind him. “You're welcome to see if it works for you.”

It was almost too good to be true. “But . . . what about side effects?”

“We've minimized them in recent years, they're basically harmless solutions now.”

Tea . . . lost the doubt and distrust that usually clouded his judgment for a brief interval. “Could I really try it?”

Daniel smiled and nodded, and Tea saw for a split second a small sparkle in his green eyes. “I'll ask her to ship you some as soon as I see her again.”

For the very first time, Tea actually didn't feel despair creeping up on him at the offer of help from someone who wasn't of the Moderator’s branch.

Tea spent the rest of that annual meeting resting in his and Don’s room. The moment Don reunited with him and realized Tea’s predicament, he did excuse them from the final day of the gathering. He didn’t ask what had happened with Keoma, Kiva, and the others, so he could most assuredly trust that they had not said anything.