Remember

Sitting in a study with a large double bed in the corner that looks completely out of place in an alcove, as though it's a new addition, with the sub pack in eerie quiet tension as they all absorb everything we showed them outside. Sat in minor dazed moods as we all digest the truth of combined memories.

It's a small room with a bay window, a large couch and armchair nestled in front of a rustic fireplace cozily. A large handmade desk sits off to the side, just in the nook of the window space, facing in with a worn chair tucked behind. There's an entire wall lined with dark stained bookcases, crammed full of old leather-bound journals of varying shades of tan, brown, and black, with no titles on display and I wonder what exactly is contained within the aged pages for them to bear no mark. There are oddities, and bottles, of all kinds nestled among them, and facing that wall are three large, closed cupboards in matching deep wood that narrow the space considerably. There isn't much floor to move around yet it has a snug quality rather than crowded.

The decor of dark autumn hues, golds, oranges, russet, browns, and rich in color, which only makes the room close in on us more so. Especially with the heavy drapes at the window in dark red velvet, blocking out what should be light, but it's almost the middle of the night already, so there's a wall of black in the windowpane. The lamps are dim, almost candle flickering in intensity, dotted sporadically around small side tables and shelves, and add to an eerie atmosphere as the pack all sit around nestled together. Some on them are perched on the arms of chairs, lounging, while Colton stands by the fireplace, and I'm laid down on the bed out of the way to finally get some rest. The bed's modern, I can tell by the finesse and the new crisp bedding that this was put in here recently.

My body is weary and heavy, and it feels good to finally know what a comfy safe bed feels like again. It's been so long since I was in a room by choice, surrounded by people I care about in a safe space, and I can spread out and not have to be on high alert at all. Weeks of living with tension, and heightened senses, all coming to an end, and I realize how incredibly exhausted I am. It feels beyond amazing to not have one eye behind me, and one eye on my surroundings, worrying about my next meal, or where to set up a good camp.

Colton moved us in here once they'd seen everything they needed to see in our shared memories, and it was obvious they needed a little privacy to talk this out and calm down. We were making a spectacle out front, and even though other pack members dispersed, we caught many peeking at windows.

The reactions were varied to what the pack saw out there when we mind bonded, and I think they're all still reeling in shock, and sadness, at finding out they've been raised with so many lies, for so many years. That the man they trusted proved himself to be the villain in our own story. I can imagine, despite it not being their family, their parents, it's still their pack, their blood, and their alpha, that it has to cut deep. The Santo pack has always been a proud close-knit unit, even for its massive size. It's how it's lasted the test of generations.

Meadow sobbed, hugged me like she was going to crack every bone in my body, and went onto a Spanish rant that involved a lot of cussing for a solid ten minutes, while she stomped around, throwing her hands in the air dramatically and pointing at the sky. I think she was telling the fates off for allowing all of this, but as Spanish is a language I never really picked up, I've no idea. She was animated and filled with fury, and yet deep sadness, as she kept stopping to catch her breath and cry some more.

Cesar quietly stared at me for the longest moment, until I felt almost uncomfortable; a thoughtful face etched with concern, before apologizing to me wholeheartedly about everything his 'blood' has done to me for most of my life. Right before moving in and giving me a tight embrace that truly felt good. It was solid and real, and I could feel his genuine remorse for being part of the bond that took away all of mine. Cesar is a paternal role in the subs, and for the first time, I felt like one of his pups.

The twins sat on the ground, overcome, and kept shaking their heads in disbelief, lost, and yet somehow enlightened at the same time, and they kept staring at one another, clearly mind linking to question every detail. They seemed to be the slowest at figuring out how it all pieced together, and then sat and looked bewildered. Blank expressions, except for wide eyes, and a downturn of their mouths. Sadness evident in their aura.

Radar lost his shit completely, and I flinched when he growled out loud, cursed Juan's name and stormed off amid a rant, semi turned into wolf because he couldn't control it, and gave us space. His words mumbled, yet I heard the name Sierra, and how Juan all these years kept her a prisoner of her own mind and denied Radar his right to protect his Luna. Radar seemed the one with the most fury, but I guess given how he feels about Luna Sierra, then it makes sense he would react aggressively. He came back after Meadow was done cursing out the fates, and stood silent, and broody, while occasionally staring at the ground in deep thought. His mind in turmoil.

Matteo as always, the calm within the group, kept questioning Colton, saying things like 'I just can't …’ and then turning over every detail as though he needed confirmation. Emotionally, he seemed in disbelief, his manner cool, yet that look of utter heartbreak in his eyes at the fact their alpha lied to them all. He stayed close to Colton, providing a sense of stable quiet when the others were in disarray.

Jesus vented loudly, at no one, at everything, wandering in circles and talking to himself while kicking gravel across the drive with force. Every so often he would come back to the circle, rub my head, and say 'Lo sentient macho, Nina.’

I think it means sorry, but I'm not sure, and I didn't want to ask while everyone is visibly shaken. Jesus has something of the dramatic about him, and his energy was bristling the air around me anytime he paced close. That need to hurt something for hurting his pack. It was overly protective, and I could almost taste his desire for revenge against Juan.

Colton and I stood side by side and he took my hand, waiting for them to have some time to let it absorb. I stood blank faced, and numb, fatigue controlling my body, and the only thing I could focus on was Contraltos warm skin against mine, and how it was so Groundbreaking right. His touch as always, killing me softly.

Now we're all inside, nursing mugs of coffee, except me, as I declined and wanted to lie horizontal while they all bashed it out between them. I need a little quiet and calm to let everything that has happened in the last two days settle and wash over me. It feels like my head has been bombarded and knocked to hell and somehow, I'm mentally bruised and in need of soothing soft silence. It's quiet now, and they are all stuck in their own minds, with the occasional infrequent sentence thrown out there, mostly nods. I think this may take more than a few short hours for them to really grasp the levity of the situation, and the past. We still don't know what else Sierra will add to the pot if anything.

It does feel good to be back among them though. The familiarity, the safety, and even though I was only part of their pack for a short time, I feel like I'm home and back within the arms of my family. Something I've wanted and ached for, for the last ten years of my life, and never thought it would exist within the Santo pack. Especially after finding out all of this about Juan. Carmen is still not here, and I'm starting to wonder if her absence has to do with the war on the mountain.

Colton said her father was Juan's beta, so of course he would forbid her from coming here, and maybe even held her hostage to make sure she didn't shame her family by following 'the traitor'. I can't imagine that would not have gone down well with Juan, if his second in command's own blood followed his son off the mountain. Juan already believes he's more powerful than a mate bond. That would explain Contraltos desire to start something with me, as though he didn't already have himself a femmes tucked away. He thinks his mate is unreachable, unattainable, from circumstance, and a lost cause that he chose under pressure, and thinks he can ignore the bond and start fresh with me. Because our emotional bond was never severed, and his feelings didn't change like he hoped.

It's not happening. The very thought of it chokes me to the core, and makes my heart constrict, and pulse, painfully. That uncomfortable heaviness in my gut, reminding me that I can never forgive and forget that he gave up on us and did what hurt me the most. I can't move past the betrayal, or what he did, and I definitely cannot become some tarnished femmes willing to have someone else mate, just because she can't physically be here. It makes me sick to my stomach that he would even ask that of me. Love means nothing when you're mate bonded to another. It's against the rules, the pack laws, and against my own moral code. I deserve more.

"So, what now? Alora is in danger if Juan now knows she's here. He may try and pull together enough wolves to attack the homestead!” Matteo breaks the silence, bringing all eyes to him as he settles in the armchair. His words bringing me out of my own thoughts and I sit up on one elbow to look at him from a semi lounging position, my gut swirling a little, and anxiety piquing, that my being here might just endanger everyone I love. More so than already, and I can't really predict if that's true.

"No. My mom life linked to her…. if anything happens to Alora, then my mom dies too, and as she's still bonded to my dad, it'll be his end. He's crazy, but not stupid. He'd never jeopardize his own life. He won't attack because we outnumber him in terms of warriors, and he already lost at the mountain, there's also no point in trying to get them back now. He knows we have the truth and soon we'll spread it among our pack to let it free. Containing it won't be his goal anymore, as he can't turn back time. The only threat now is Alora rising to fulfil the prophecy that he can't do a damn thing about. We protect her, we keep her close within our circle, same as any of the rest of us. We shield her and my mom. They're the two most important people in this, and to me." Colton turns and leans against the mantle and exhales heavily. His own fatigue evident on his face, his pallor pale, with dark smudges under his lower lids, his body sagging instead of the usual confident, strong, and tall posture he normally has. He catches my eye across the room over the heads of those on the couch and e gives me that soft, almost nothing, smile, that makes my heart giddy and insides erupts in fluttering butterflies. I look away quickly, my face flushing with the stupid reaction to him, and lay back down to avoid his eyes on me. I don't want to feel his pull constantly, always sending my body into crazy spins and tingles, I want to sleep and to not feel, and not be torn every second with this gnawing need for him.

“Right now, all we have is time to kill. Sierra is a couple of days before we even know how much recovery she's going to need. It may be weeks before either of you are unbound. For now, we need to spread this among the pack and let them decide whose side they are on. Hybrids have always been a secret, and now their leaders are mixes of the enemies they hold within them. The pack needs to know everything, and after, those who are still here, and choose to stay, they can't ever hold it against any of us again…. we are who we are." Meadow gets up and stands beside Colton, turning to the rest of the pack and drawing my eve back across the room at them from my horizontal position. What she says makes perfect sense and yet it's utterly terrifying.

Outing everything to the rest of the pack. Telling them what I am, what he is, what they are, and opening all out and laying it bare for them to choose which side they want to follow. We may lose everyone. There has never been an outpouring of such honesty among this pack for decades under Juan's rule. Some may not want to accept the truth.

"We give them a choice and until my mom wakes up, to make a decision. Stay and accept me and Alora or go back to the mountain to my dad, whom they might deem their true alpha if they think I'm impure. From now on, no more secrets. We let the Shaman teach what he knows to be true in the school hall, and whoever wants to know can join in." Contraltos voice is hoarse, a husky undertone of fatigue, and he rubs his hand over the back of his neck, rolling his shoulders before exhaling heavily. A sign he's stressing about this choice, but he knows it's inevitable. His intentions are the right thing, but much like me, there's apprehension in him and a fear the pack will up and leave when they know what he is. What I am.

"Let's get to it at first light. We can split up and project on small groups at a time, let them pass it on. Won't take long to cover the whole pack and spread the memories. That gives us the whole day to get through all of them, but right now, we should all sleep. We've had a long night and the new patrols are out doing the walks already. We need rest." Meadow claps her hands to get everyone up, and the air of heavy mood and simmering anger at the lies they were drip fed their whole life is evident in the smog around them. It's thick, and dense, like I could cut it with a knife.

The subs are angry, hurt, confused, but one thing is clear. It didn't change the loyalty, or love, within any one of them and through all of the emotions swirling in this room, one stands out the strongest. The unity and devotion they have for one another. The sense of solidarity, that any one of them are one hundred percent behind Colton with whatever he wants to do. That's a real pack, that's the bond of family, and I know I'm not officially one of them, but they make me feel as though I am. They're my pack, no matter what happens with Colton, they're not going to lose me for a second time. I need these people.

One by one they stand and begin to shuffle out of the room, some of the boys stopping to fist bump Colton on the way by in that very bro way they have with one another, they wave my way, and I sit up properly, pulling myself to the edge of the bed to stand, and find out where I'm meant to go, but Contraltos voice in my head stills me.

Stay put. You look beat and need the rest. This room is fine, and no one will come in here without my say so. His voice inside my head, always that aching wave of intimacy, and yet sorrow, and all I can do is nod his way and avoid direct eye contact. I'm too fatigued for more emotional head mess and his lips are still lingering on mine from his kiss earlier, tingling softly, reminding me that when it comes to him, I'm stupidly weak, especially when I'm this tired.

I flop back down, glad I don't have to now find the energy to go anywhere, but at the same time, I feel a little disorientated at the thought of staying here by myself. I've been alone for weeks, knowing only the solitude, and sounds of nature, and the wilds. Now here I am, thrust back into civilization and tossed around for the last twenty-four hours in a bizarre and noisy manner and I haven't really had a moment to acclimation, or even catch my breathe. It's all a muddled mess of crazy, and now with the opportunity to lie back and let it sink in, it seems terrifying. I'm sort of depending on their company to keep me sane, and stop my mind from wandering, and I'm not sure I want to be alone anymore. I think I had my fill of it in the forests, the reminder of the never-ending loneliness I experienced, and I stop him as he goes to leave.

“Where will you be?” I sound as desperate as I feel, blurting out a delaying tactic and I scold myself for the neediness. I guess I feel out of whack and set adrift now all my plans were upended, and life got completely side-tracked. And having no answers, and no direction, other than just waiting, is like having the rug pulled out from under you. It feels awful and he's been the constant, stable, wise words, knows what he's doing, in all of this. Right from day one that in this moment, I need it.

"Across the hall in the infirmary with my mom. You can have this room until we figure things out. If you need me, then link me, and I'll come back." He throws me that sexy, genuine smile, his voice low, and fading, because he too is exhausted.

"This is your room?” I Blanche, wondering why the alpha of the pack isn't upstairs in a grand suite like is normal within a pack manor. Now I also feel guilty, that I'm taking his bed when he needs it, and also a little worried that he's setting me up in his room because he might think he can wear me down and start something in time.

"Yeah, space is at a premium with a lot of families needing bigger rooms. It wouldn't have been right to monopolize one when I can put a bed in here and double up the communal and my room. It's not like I sleep in here much, plus, with all the building work out back as they construct small homes, we'll soon move a lot of the pack out into the forest we're clearing behind us. This is all temporary while we get this place capable of being our permanent home. You need it more than I do." It all sounds so plausible and logical, and I can't help gazing at who he's become, seeing him somehow in a new light.

In just a few weeks he's grown so much, and the needs of his people have taken the forefront of his priorities, as they should. There's a new level of serious, and commanding, to him, a hint of mature beyond his years, and all it does is weigh me down heavily. Liking this about him, and all that does is make it hurt more. Colton really is everything I would ever want in a mate, and it just kills me, ripping my insides apart that he gave up on me.

I glance at the window as though trying to see out into the darkness at the building work being carried out, but really, it's an excuse to break away from the way his eyes are holding me hostage and I'm suddenly on the verge of stupid tears. The burning intensity of them pooling in my eyes and I have to swallow hard and blink them away to regain control. That same lingering need coming from him that gnaws at my soul constantly, and I lose my courage, sounding feeble, and weak, as I utter a few words breathlessly.

"I could use something to sleep in." I hesitate, knowing fine well it's a lie and I could strip off, but something in me just doesn't want him to leave yet, even if it's just prolonging the agony and making me feel worse. Since I came back, we haven't really separated properly for any length of time, and now I'm experiencing some crazy anxiety about him leaving when I feel like there's so much still left unsaid, unresolved. He's the anchor in my boat, and I'm on a stormy sea. I need to break this dependency on him if I'm to survive here from now on.

The whole Carmen thing, his saying he still wants us, his kissing me outside, Sierra, the doctor… the future. It's all too big for me to handle, or think about, and my brain is scared that letting him leave will open a damn in my brain I have no energy to deal with. He already has me teetering on emotional break down with tears threatening to push out.

"The middle cupboard has everything you need. I wasn't about to leave any part of you behind because I wasn't going to rest until we found you. Sweet dreams, baby." What he says confuses me enough to distract me completely; screwing my face up in confusion and as he walks out the door. Too focused on discovery and already climbing off the bed to open the center oversized wooden cabinet to see what he meant by that.

Much to my shock, every single belonging I left in my room in the manor is in here, folded neatly, stacked up, and waiting for me to reclaim it. From clothing, to shoes, to my boxes of sentimental items, and keepsakes. All has its place and fits neatly in here, taking over an entire cupboard in Contraltos room.

A lump forms in my throat that almost chokes me half to death, and tears sting my eyes with venom, so that I know I won't be able to hold them back for long. My emotions take a sudden nosedive, and I cough on a sob trying to escape my throat. My hands tremble as I reach out and touch the first of my sweaters, my legs turning to Jell-O and a wave of hotheadedness because of my extreme reaction to something so basic.

I don't know why this gets to me so badly, but it does. The fact he took the time to pack up everything that was mine, so carefully, and brought it when they all left the manor together. Sure they were limited in time to pack, considering they were leaving under hostile terms and had to get out, yet he made sure he left nothing of me in that place. It's all here. Every single little thing that I never knew I missed until now. All clean, and pressed, and set in here in almost military precision. He took care of my things in the hopes he would bring me back here one day.

I try and not to ponder on it, to push it out of my head and focus on a task of doing, instead of thinking. It's all I can do if I don't want to succumb to these overwhelming feelings, and all the questions about Carmen, about us. Starting to doubt myself and what I felt in the forest, but there's nothing else to explain what that was. It had to be him marking her or betraying our bond in another way. Nothing can compare to the level of pain, and heartbreak, and betrayal I felt, and I should remind myself of that and not get lost in him as he tries to win me round. I need to stay true to the fact and ignore how much I still love him. How every sense, and fiber in my soul, aches to be reunited with him in even the smallest ways.

I inhale heavily to self-calm and level myself out, shake my head and give myself an internal rattle to snap out of this. I haul out an oversized night shirt that Meadow gifted me in the manor, my all-time favorite, and underwear, and quickly strip, loving the feel of fitted soft delicate lingerie and an actual cozy and loose t-shirt, printed with delicate pastel Flora, over Frey sweats any day. It's the little things that can restore you in weird ways.

I yank out my toiletries bag and find my hairbrush, facial wipes, and all manner of self-grooming products I left behind, as they were too heavy to lug around, and start to put myself to rights. There's a mirror over the mantle and it's only now I can see how grubby and scruffy I look and decide to quickly remedy it. I look like a hobo who hasn't seen water in weeks, and my hair is a dull brown because it's so dirty.

Meadow was right though; I do look different. My hair is longer, my face slimmer, and I seem to have aged a little in my time in the wilds. My green eyes seem brighter, the color more intense. My skin tanned gently from being outside all the time, and I have a natural rosy glow to my cheeks, nose, and forehead, that have brought out a few light freckles. I seem taller, but I think it's because I stand differently now. Upright, almost proud, and the small amount of growth my hair has had, makes all the difference. Even dirty, the layers are softer and hang around my face and past my shoulders in a much more flattering style than how the orphanage used to cut it. I like this look, and I might just let it grow out fully.

I clean my skin, brush out my tugs as best I can and find all manner of debris and twigs in the knots. I feel grubby now I have clean pastel clothes against my skin and try and make myself presentable while contemplating linking Colton to ask if he has a bathtub close by. Although it's late, and I am tired so maybe I should just clean myself up, sleep, and worry about bathing in the morning.

It feels good to have the ability to cleanse some of the grime off with wipes and I look around for a means to brush my teeth, as that in itself will make a huge difference to how gross I feel. I wander around looking for a water jug, or something I could use, and stumble upon a door I previously missed because it's stained the exact color of the wood around it. A small door in the corner, next to the desk, that was almost completely concealed, tucked in and narrow, right at the side of the last cupboard, that I open in hopes of finding something useful. To my delight it slides open behind the wardrobe to reveal a tiny bathroom.

There's a shower that looks newly installed, with an array of toiletries in a basket sat within, some towels hanging at the side, and a fluffy mat on the floor that hints this is where he gets ready most days. The smell of sealant and paint are faint in the air, as though this was a recent conversion, and I guess that makes sense if Colton had this room purposed. He can get up, shower, and get ready here without having to go find an available bathroom. There's a small wash basin, and toilet, fitted into the space snugly, but not so much that it's crammed and I strip back off without hesitation, the urge to jump right in, desire overtaking tiredness with a need to be clean and hygienic once more.

The outside living is great when you're outside, but once you're back among people, and cleanliness, it really does make you feel all kinds of yuck. This right now, as I slide under hot water from powerful jets, is as close to heaven as I've been in a while. I close my eyes and tilt my face up at the jet, and let it wash over, cascading all my worries and aches away with the kind of goodness only a hot shower can bring.

Hot water, soap, shampoo. It all feels amazing to be back in civilization with real home comforts. No more river washes or using stones to scrub my clothes, and plain water to brush my teeth that always had a faint tint of fishiness to it. I can lie to myself every day and say that I was doing great out there and would happily have existed that way for an eternity, but one shower and it unravels all of it. The bed calling to me, soft sheets, and springy mattresses, and being able to walk barefoot on soft carpeted surfaces and not having to choke half to death on fire smoke to get any kind of lights in the dark. I was never built to be truly off grid, and isolated, and being back here highlights all of it.

I spend a good forty-five minutes scrubbing every single little inch of me and lathering up the shower products deliciously. They smell like Colton, but I don't mind it at all. It's comforting, familiar, much like his presence always is. He always smells good; citrus fresh, with subtle undertones of musk, a luring heady scent that ignites so many memories of being close to him at just smelling his products. On me it's maybe a little masculine, but it's better than woodland damp, and stale river water. It makes me feel human again, although it does kill any urge to sleep, and revives my energy levels which maybe I shouldn't have done.

I brush my teeth when I get out, oddly obsessed with peppermint toothpaste now I get to use it again and redo my teeth four times just because I can. Running my tongue over shiny smooth enamel and the breathy fresh taste when I inhale. I brush out my damp hair after I rub it almost dry with the soft towels hanging nearby, and cover my body head to foot in the lotion from my bag that smells like tropical fruit, in a bid to smell femme again. It does a great job of blending with Contraltos scents and I end up sort of pineapple tinted and smelling rather edible. I redress in my underwear and night dress quickly, and revel in how good clean feels. There's no comparison to this kind of sensation.

I feel a thousand times better and scoot back to my cupboard to find thick fluffy bed socks for my now soft and supple feet, and climb on the bed to plait out the front of my hair to keep it off my face. The layers are long enough now, and always falling in front of my eyes so I French plait across the front and finish it off down one side of my face with a little elastic from my bag.

I hop up to admire myself in the mirror once more, and the difference it makes is amazing. Radiant and squeaky clean; my skin flawless in its sun kissed beauty, and glowing. My hair is lighter, and shinier once more, now the filth is stripped out and the natural highlights of my blonde are softly shining through. The style framing my face and drawing attention to my now slimmer cheek bones and long neck.

I look less child, and way more woman, and I can't help the little confidence boost it gives me. My green eyes shining brightly back at me, despite hints of dark circles under my eyes, but overall, I look pretty. I never used to think I was anything of the sort, but now I see it. Like finally seeing what Colton sees, and it's not a girl anymore, or a shy feeble little no one who used to cower away from all Santos. I now stand tall, with my chin tilted up, and there's more presence to my posture than before. A look in my eyes that says fierce because I've lived through some amount of shit so far already, and no one is going to push me back in the shadows. I have fuller lips, defined bone structure, and a better length of hair that suits my face shape. I could give Carmen a run for her money looking like this, and honestly, side by side, I put my bets on me. It's weird to finally appreciate myself this way.

I scan the room, aware that now I have this boost I no longer want to lie on the bed and the restless fire in me is up and revving inside. I don't want to lie down until my hair dries anyway, and I now have the urge to go check on Sierra and see how she's settled. Colton looked tired, so maybe I should offer to swap. Sit by his mom while he sleeps in here and gets some much-needed rest. I mean, we are sharing, sort of, so maybe we could alternate and when one uses it the other stays with Sierra, until we figure something else out.

I'm sure the only thing to sleep on in there is a couch, unless they have more beds on wheels to give him, and I make up my mind that it's the only thing to do. He's important to the pack and I'm not really, not right now anyway. He should rest well, in a real bed, in his own room, and I think I want to sit by Sierra for a little while, surrounded by noise, and movement, like I was in the forest, until I feel calmer about being back among everyday life. I need a transition period.

I check myself over once more as my night shirt slides off one shoulder, exposing soft peachy skin, and try to figure out if this is modest enough attire to go walking around the homestead. I'm covered, and the shirt is almost to my knees, not thin enough to see through. It's baggy, and pretty shapeless, but it does cling to my breasts as it keeps sliding down off my left shoulder so that I don't look frumpy in it. There's a peek of shadow from my navy underwear, but overall, it's just a shirt, I don't need to get dressed. Not really.

With my mind made up, I pad out into the hall, clicking the door closed quietly behind me and realize t how quiet this place is for the hour. It must be after midnight for sure, but I can't be certain, and tiptoe down the dimly lit hall towards the door we took Sierra through earlier, so as not to make any noise and disturb people who may be close by down here.

I know where the infirmary is, and I don't hesitate in clicking open the door and sliding into the extra hallway that shields the infirmary from people walking in, the airy white painted box area with vinyl Frey floor. I make my way through that second door too, to the double doors with windows, and through the glass I can see Colton sat by her side, reading a book to her. His back to me, and tilted down towards her at his side, so I can make out his profile and the book perched on the side of her bed.

The Doctor is asleep on a bed in the corner, looking completely comatose with a blanket thrown over him, and the femmes medic is standing off to one side at a counter and doing something. I guess she's on night duty while Doc sleeps. There's no one else there, and the lights have been set to low, so the only illuminations of any brightness come from the medic at her workspace. The rest is dim, even where Colton sits, and I can barely make out the low hum of his voice as he talks to her.

I click open the door as quietly as I can and move in quickly, and silently, but he seems to know and immediately looks my way, catching my eye and then sliding his vision up and down my with an appreciative half smile as he does so.

You look knock out and much like the old you. Although why are you not in bed? He mind links me and despite myself I blush and make my way to him to stand beside him at the bed. Trying to ignore the rise in heart rate, and how overly aware I seem to be now I'm back beside him yet wearing noticeably thinner clothing, so his body heat warms me by being close.

I couldn't sleep and figured you might want the bed and I could stay with her.

Colton shifts in his seat and turns so he faces my way and hauls over another stool off to the side to beside him and pats it for me to sit.

"I don't want to leave her just yet, sit with me. Keep me company." He locks a look on my face, that half smile, the one that melts me, with those excruciating dimples which set my belly alight. I slide onto the seat immediately, too swayed by that face, and hating myself for the obedience, knowing it's probably stupid to cozy beside him in the middle of the night given the last time we got so close in here, but something inside of me is urging me to stay with him. The desire is stronger than my will, and even though I try to sit away slightly, once he turns back to his mom, his shoulder and arm fit snugly against me and make me tremble with the effects of his touch. That hyper awareness zooming back in, and every inch of my skin tingles in recognition of his body heat, betraying me.

“What are you reading her?” I ask to push focus on something else, pushing him out of my mind, ignoring my traitorous body, and trying so desperately to breathe normally as my breaths shallow out. I hush my voice so as not to disturb the sleeping Doc, and it covers how breathless I've become in near proximity to him in such an intimate setting.

"Lady Chatterley. It was her favorite book when I was young, always used to read it in the garden while she watched me play, so I figured maybe she might like it. The Doc says she might be able to hear us, so I don't know… it's stupid." Colton reverts to that boy once more, the one I met and knew all these years, and it tugs at my heart strings so deeply I just have to touch him.

"It's not stupid. It's sweet and shows her you love her. If she is aware then it's probably nice to hear your voice, and something like a story, instead of noise, and chaos, and feeling ignored. I can't imagine what she's gone through." The tugging of my heart pushes me to lean against him and lay my head on his shoulder impulsively, seeking to be soothed. Fitting like he was made to have me curl up beside him, and he readjusts his position, so I slot right in at him, resting his cheek against the top of my head. Much like me, it seems anytime I'm close or touch him, Colton too has to respond to the pull and always touches me back. I hate that even when we're no longer allowed or able to be together, the need to be this way overpowers everything else. It stirs up so much ache inside of me and brings that awful choking sensation back to my throat.

I'm torn in my sadness for Sierra and driven by the force of his pull whenever he's close. I know I'm betraying myself by initiating the touch and I'm trying so hard to fight it. Colton is too easy, and too inviting, like a safe harbor that calls to me, to come shelter from the cruel world, especially when I'm feeling vulnerable, and tonight this was probably a bad idea. I haven't had any real sleep, my emotions are all over the place, and I'm too tired to really fight any of it.

“Maybe we can stay here like this until she wakes up, and I can stop thinking or feeling and just take a minute…” Contraltos voice is as soft as mine, hushed, and his breath tickles my forehead as he uttered the words. Igniting goosebumps and all manner of crazy feelings, and thoughts, at his suggestion. To sit here with him like this for two days and ignore everything, pretend for a little while, that this is all we need to care about. Cuddling up doesn't sound wholly awful. It sounds like stealing last moments before reality sets in and I can't say I'm against it. Pretending for a little while that we're okay and there's nothing wrong with his touch.

Colton takes my silence as an agreement and reaches out and flips over the page of the book as though he intends to start reading to her again, it just pushes me to curl up against him all the more, settling in to listen, and mentally chastising myself to pretend this is a frozen moment. Where nothing matters except listening to him read and watching her sleep.

"My two favorite girls…. What more could I want?” Colton slides his arm from between us and instead lasses it around me and pulls me in against his chest, fully igniting that sense of safe and secure. I melt and give up completely, sinking into his embrace and blot out all the noise coming from my brain, all the words of warning, and refusals. I want to be held by him and cherish this moment if I need to get through the rest of my life watching him bonded to someone else.

His hand on the book slides away from it, and places it on his moms forehead instead, gently stroking her hair back, and then resting lightly on her hairline as he leans in to be able to see the words on the pages. I pull my feet up on the bar of the stool and drop my knees against his, drawing warmth in every area of my body now, sliding one arm behind him and making the most of allowing myself to be immersed in his body. I reach out gently and touch Sierra's hand as instinct takes over, the need to let her know I'm here too is all consuming for some unknown reason. The sudden compulsion to connect to her and somehow complete this little circle we have going on.

“She's so very beautiful. You look like your…."

My words die on my lips as my fingers slide fully over hers and I capture her hand in mine, a warming sensation travels up from my fingertips, and something crazy happens to me. My mind almost jolts with the force of an electric zap, that yanks me closer to the bed and I almost tumble out of Contraltos arms, but he catches me, hauling me tight to him.

I gasp out loud as my brain somehow loses all control of all faculties, my vision whites, out blinding me insanely, so that I grab hold of his leg with my one free hand to steady myself and lose all ability to hear, feel, or see. The only sensation I'm aware of is the burning connection from Sierra's hand to mine, and the same burn coming through Contraltos arm around my waist. We're connected all three of us, by touch, and it consumes me until I can't fight it in any way.

I completely blank out, losing sense of everything. Him, her, the room, it all slips away, like trying to hold water with your fingertips, and all I can do is ride with it. I can't open my eyes, or feel my limbs, or my body at all, like I'm a mass of unconnected thoughts with no physical form.

I try and take a breath but even that seems futile as I'm a nothingness, lingering in airless space, finding myself in a darkness that's so eerie, yet familiar, as sounds and smells start to filter through and jog little moments of time. Distant at first, as though travelling along a tunnel, and they're at the other end battling through a fog. They're not the infirmary, they're something else that tugs at my memory banks, and draws me back in time as I seem to start to fall into a memory that I never knew I had.

The smells of summer push me into a brighter place, and I blink and slowly manage to open my eyes, suddenly aware of touch, and sensation, as I regain full control of my limbs, but there's no one here with me. Colton isn't here, I can't feel him, or sense him, and I seem to be in another space entirely. In a room, lying down, one that haunts me from the past. I lift my hand to touch my face and gauge the reality of what I'm seeing, and I'm startled to see it's so small and childlike, and blink some more to clear the fogginess so I can look again.

Everything comes into slow focus, like a fade back in, and I know immediately where I am. The small attic makeshift room, hastily painted pink by the family that took on a child whose own had gone to battle. I'm back in the temporary room of my care family, back when my parents went to war. The cozy bed, the painted dressers, and my dollar, Annie, sits on the side of my bed, watching me in my slumber. It brings back so many mixed feelings and memories, but none that I can ever recall like this. This seems new, and yet everything is here and exactly as I remember.

It's dull, night, although it's not darkness so it must be summer, and I know I'm supposed to be asleep, but something stirred me from my dreams of my mother and father running through our meadow in a game of tag. My senses alerting me to the window in the far corner, and I watch in terrified silence, of a vulnerable child, as something begins climbing in with precise movements and silent intent. My heart hitches, racing, and pulsing so profoundly I feel it may rip from my chest. Frozen in terror, unable to cry out for fear the monster climbing in may see me if I make a noise.

The dark shadowy figure, wearing a large, heavy, black cloak, with the hood pulled up to veil their identity, slides up the unlocked panel of glass and slowly and carefully climbs inside, pulling their heavy robes with them, and almost soundlessly lands on the space in front of my window. I resist the urge to pull the covers over my face, my blood running cold with the terror of what is here, panic overtaking me, and I go to call out for my caretaker in youthful hysteria.

"Don't be afraid, little one…. Hush now!” The female voice comes from under the hood, silencing me mid open mouth gasp with the familiarity of that sound, and a raised palm. I'm startled into quiet, because I know her. I recognize her smell, her sound, her presence, as it calms me and as she turns fully towards me. All I can see are two electric blue, glowing orbs, from the dark shadow of her hood as she looks at me directly. Her eyes mesmerizing and I've never seen such a color before.

“You know me, Alora. I'm here to protect you. I'm Luna Sierra Santo, I come as a friend of your mother's…. Be still. I have much to do."