“I promise. You won’t lose me. Everything’s going to be fine.” Summer stroked his back, trying to ease out the tension in his muscles. “Try to relax, okay? I don’t think there’s anything we can do right now. You want to clean some of this blood off?”
Melting against her as her fingers skimmed down the bumps in his spine, he stiffened then and gave his body a long glance, sniffing and frowning. “Mine? Not mine…I don’t know…” he whispered hoarsely, trying to determine if he had been injured before, because he’d now healed with only the lingering coppery scent indicating that any blood at all had been spilled.
“Doesn’t matter,” she asserted. “It’s there. Come on. Shower? Helios will help you.” Indeed, as soon as the word ‘shower’ was uttered, Helios appeared, trotting in from the bedroom with alert ears. He came over to Isaac and sniffed at his hand, licking it gently. “There, see?”
“They won’t,” she said confidently. /I know what werewolves taste like in my mind now./ “It’s okay, chere, it’s okay.” She smoothed a thumb over his cheek, wiping away teartracks. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, I won’t go anywhere without telling you, okay? It’s safe here.”
“O-okay,” he conceded with a slow and heavy nod, before he pushed into her roaming fingers and nodded once more. “Okay…okay, promise? Because…because I can’t lose you, not you, Summer…” He rambled fearfully and pressed his face to her neck, inhaling her scent as he calmed himself slightly.
“I promise. You won’t lose me. Everything’s going to be fine.” Summer stroked his back, trying to ease out the tension in his muscles. “Try to relax, okay? I don’t think there’s anything we can do right now. You want to clean some of this blood off?”
“We’ll find them,” she vowed. “I can’t smell them the way you can but I’ll find a way to help.” She bent her head over his curly one, her loose hair falling over his face. “Shhh, now. It will be okay. We’ll find them.”
Reaching out to tangle a single strand of hair in his fingers, he nodded jerkily and sniffed, gazing up at her with puffy eyes. “W-what if they hurt you too? They…I can’t lose you as well, Summer…” He trembled and pressed his face to her shoulder.
“They won’t,” she said confidently. /I know what werewolves taste like in my mind now./ “It’s okay, chere, it’s okay.” She smoothed a thumb over his cheek, wiping away teartracks. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, I won’t go anywhere without telling you, okay? It’s safe here.”
Summer wrapped her arms around him, making meaningless soothing sounds, while her mind raced. A /pack/ of Alphas? How did that even work? Why would there be a pack of Alphas here? She realised she didn’t know nearly enough about how werewolf culture worked — and if she truly wanted to help, she would have to tell Isaac her secret.
She shied away from that. Yes, he’d given her his, but that — it wasn’t the same. It just wasn’t the same. So she just held him, and rocked him slightly, and made an aura of safety and calm for him.
Clutching at her and screwing his eyes tightly shut, he trembled with the force of emotion filling him up, unable to effectively convey how much pain the loss was causing him. Erica was like the sister he never had, Boyd, another brother, and to even think of them hurting and lost, or worse, dead, was too much for him. He’d lost too many people.
As he lay in her arms, the soothing, repetitive rocking gestures gradually calming him, he finally managed to speak properly, although his voice was thick with tears. “I’m…I’m scared, Summer. What if…what if they’re not okay…?”
“We’ll find them,” she vowed. “I can’t smell them the way you can but I’ll find a way to help.” She bent her head over his curly one, her loose hair falling over his face. “Shhh, now. It will be okay. We’ll find them.”
“Oh, god.” Her voice went rough, and she cleared her throat. “You have to /tell me/, Isaac. What could hurt a werewolf?” She wanted so badly to be able to reassure him, but without the specific shape of his fear, she didn’t know what to say. And he wasn’t saying anything about why he was bloody and had clearly been in a fight with someone — or something.
“A-another werewolf…hunters…D-Derek said that there was a pack of…a pack of Alphas and they…” He whimpered and twisted to bury his face in the crook of her neck, trying to focus on not shifting instead of the helplessness threatening to overwhelm him.
Summer wrapped her arms around him, making meaningless soothing sounds, while her mind raced. A /pack/ of Alphas? How did that even work? Why would there be a pack of Alphas here? She realised she didn’t know nearly enough about how werewolf culture worked — and if she truly wanted to help, she would have to tell Isaac her secret.
She shied away from that. Yes, he’d given her his, but that — it wasn’t the same. It just wasn’t the same. So she just held him, and rocked him slightly, and made an aura of safety and calm for him.
“Isaac,” she said slowly, “what happens to werewolves who are missing? What is it you’re afraid of? Couldn’t they just have run off for some time alone together?” She didn’t mention the obvious, to her, bond between them.
“We’re all Betas…they…I should be able to smell them…call out to them and have them reply, but…but n-nothing…” His voice cracked then and he gazed at her, eyes wide and disbelieving. “They wouldn’t go without saying goodbye…”
“Oh, god.” Her voice went rough, and she cleared her throat. “You have to /tell me/, Isaac. What could hurt a werewolf?” She wanted so badly to be able to reassure him, but without the specific shape of his fear, she didn’t know what to say. And he wasn’t saying anything about why he was bloody and had clearly been in a fight with someone — or something.
“Your packmates,” she breathed. /Aw, hell./ “Chere, you need to talk to me. Can you — breathe for me, okay? Deep breaths.” She picked up a box of tissues and held them for him. “I need you to just be strong for just a minute and then I promise you can fall apart. Your packmates are missing? And you’ve looked in all the places they should be? Called them?”
“They…they won’t answer and I…I’m scared, Summer…” he finally choked out, coming to some sort of coherency as he nestled in against her torso, trembling as he furiously rubbed his clenched fists into his red-rimmed and puffy eyes. “We’ve tried everywhere and they won’t answer…”
“Isaac,” she said slowly, “what happens to werewolves who are missing? What is it you’re afraid of? Couldn’t they just have run off for some time alone together?” She didn’t mention the obvious, to her, bond between them.
She pulled him closer, pulled him down until his head was on her shoulder and pulled his arms around her waist. “Who’s gone, chere? Tell me. Tell Summer. Who’s gone?”
Isaac’s tremors increased and the tears fell heavier, soaking through her shirt as he shook his head helplessly, finding it difficult to utter those damning words aloud. But he had to. So he curled his fingers around her hips and exhaled a deep and wavering breath, their names finally escaping. “B-Boyd a-and E-Erica…”
“Your packmates,” she breathed. /Aw, hell./ “Chere, you need to talk to me. Can you — breathe for me, okay? Deep breaths.” She picked up a box of tissues and held them for him. “I need you to just be strong for just a minute and then I promise you can fall apart. Your packmates are missing? And you’ve looked in all the places they should be? Called them?”
“Isaac!” Summer was really worried now. He hadn’t flinched at her touch in weeks. He wasn’t speaking; he just stood there while tears rolled silently down his face. She’d never seen him cry like this. She took his arms, closing her fingers slowly and gently around his biceps, and guided him to the couch. “You have to tell me what’s wrong,” she said, sitting beside him. “You have to tell me.”
He didn’t even make a noise, body trembling with the force of his silent tears, eyes blank and unseeing, a haunted expression stamped across his face. Allowing her then to take him to the sofa and coax him into sitting down, Isaac blinked and licked at his lips, before lowering his eyes and screwing them shut. “They’re gone…” he finally whispered, voice hoarse and wavering tellingly.
She pulled him closer, pulled him down until his head was on her shoulder and pulled his arms around her waist. “Who’s gone, chere? Tell me. Tell Summer. Who’s gone?”
Summer opened the door to Isaac, and stilled. Although she could /see/ him healing, he still looked terrible — dried blood in streaks, tears in his clothes, deeper marks that didn’t seem to be healing, tracks of tears on his face. She reached out, grabbing his hands, and tugged him inside. He seemed numb. “What is it? What’s happened? Hey. Hey, chere, look at me. Isaac.”
Isaac was numb, and he couldn’t remember the journey to Summer’s home, but here he was, standing on the doorstep. He could feel his broken skin knit together, the only evidence that he been injured being his torn clothes and the lingering scent of blood enveloping his entire body. Flinching at the touch, a tear rolled down his face and he let out a pained whine, body swaying as she pulled him inside.
“Isaac!” Summer was really worried now. He hadn’t flinched at her touch in weeks. He wasn’t speaking; he just stood there while tears rolled silently down his face. She’d never seen him cry like this. She took his arms, closing her fingers slowly and gently around his biceps, and guided him to the couch. “You have to tell me what’s wrong,” she said, sitting beside him. “You have to tell me.”
