Xander's Cross, Oregon: a small town ringed with forbidding mountains and misty forest. The sky may be gray, but the townspeople are welcoming to people of all kinds...and things that are not quite human as well. Here the native shifters, aliens, werewolves, and witches live in peace. They have yet to find out the new business owners encroaching on the land are also vampires.
The peace has been broken by murder, however, and things in Xander's Cross are about to become quite a bit darker.
Welcome to your new home.
is it better to out-monster the monster or to be quietly devoured?
August 20, 2020
The mayor, Rowan Starkwood, was found dead less than a mile from his home. Rumors say his body was mutilated, but the state of the body has not yet been released to the public.
Post by Paige Anderson on Aug 21, 2020 13:19:31 GMT -5
Thankfully during the summer months, it got darker far later. Paige estimated it wouldn’t actually be fully dark until nine, so she contemplated if she just wanted to walk to the diner or take her dad’s truck. She ended up taking Louis’s old skateboard that had been long since forgotten in her parent's garage instead. Probably shouldn’t have been the best choice considering her injuries, but she was easing back into things! Besides, she only had to stand there and look pretty as she skated by. Her parents didn’t even live that far from the diner so it really wasn’t that bad. She’d be there in like five minutes.
She didn’t know what she was doing, asking Dr. Hunt to meet her at the Full Moon Diner. Honestly, she was probably being stupid, and this was all going to end badly, and she’d have to see Dr. Carson the next time she went into the clinic for possible physical therapy, or any other doctor visits. You couldn’t force someone, let alone another wolf, into a pack. But you couldn’t ignore that pack bond either. The desire to be near your own kind. Once you had it, it was hard to forget. The urge to take Hunt in under her wing had been too strong to ignore, and she wasn’t going to ignore it. No hesitation. Once she’d learned he had no one and was a serviceman with no pack? Save for his squishy human? He’d been adopted before she’d even stepped out of the clinic. And even if he refused, he’d quickly learn you couldn’t get rid of Paige Anderson that easily.
The sound of the skateboard rolling across the cement filled her ears, and she took a deep breath of that warm summer air, as the smell of summer filled her nose. She rounded a corner, turning her body into the turn before pushing off with her good leg, and coasted down the street. Her hair was up in a ponytail, and despite what it had sounded like, Paige was not dressed for a date. Wearing an old My Chemical Romance shirt, well-worn jean capri’s that were torn at the knees, and an old pair of vans that had seen better days. Her arm was free of the sling, which she was thankful for as it helped her keep her balance. It’s been ages since she’d actually rode a skateboard, but like riding a bike it all came back to her.
The Diner was just up ahead now, and she shoved off the ground again, humming a Shinedown song as she rolled into the parking lot, coasting up to the front, she skidded the board to a stop, stepping on the back of it to bring the other end up she grabbed the truck of the board, taking it over off to the side of the main door. She did a quick glance through the big windows of the diner to see if Hunt was already there, but so far she hadn’t seen him. She checked her watch, seeing she was two minutes early she turned and leaned against the building, propping the skateboard up next to her, while she waited. She tucked her hands in her pockets, her posture rather relaxed only, Paige’s head was practically on a swivel, her eyes looking around at everything and everyone. Her eyes peeled for that particular lone wolf.
There was a brief time this morning where he told himself he wouldn't go. It just didn't make sense to. Then again, he made that foolish promise to lend an ear should she ever need it, and he couldn't be sure that this wasn't going to be one of those times. It was still a little unconventional to meet at a diner, but he wasn't going to complain. As a wolf, he could always eat.
So, Paige would be waiting outside the joint a few minutes passed seven. He was late, yes, but not terribly late so she wouldn't have to go "track him down" or anything. Even if a part of him had been curious enough to not show up just to see how truthful those words were. Cal just bit the bullet and cleaned himself up after his shift, which just required a change into a pair of worn jeans, those heavy black boots, and a grey t-shirt. He was just going to the diner, and it wasn't a damn date. Even if it was, he wasn't the type to get fancy anyway.
So, maybe before she thought he wasn't going to show, there came a deep rumbling from somewhere down the street. Paige would probably hear it far sooner before any human would until the reverberating sound of a motorcycle grew louder and louder. It came whizzing around the corner as the light was just turning red and the man pulled up in front of the diner in search of a parking spot. The bike rumbled and sputtered before he was shutting it off, suddenly making everything seem almost deafeningly quiet. Then he was rising up, kicking the stand down and pulled the full-face helmet from his head. Personally, he hated wearing the damn thing but "it was the law", which was precisely why he usually always wore the heavy leather jacket, even in the middle of summer. It probably wouldn't do well if he got into a wreck, leaving Blake to run the whole clinic by himself.
Hanging the helmet on one of the handlebars, he ran fingers through his hair before turning to find the very face he was here for. "Sorry I'm late," he began, making his way over as he shrugged out of the jacket. Cal offered her that sly smirk. "Hope you didn't send your hounds out to look for me yet."
Post by Paige Anderson on Aug 21, 2020 17:25:36 GMT -5
Paige has a thing about being on time. She always on time, either a few minutes early or walking just when she needed to be. Never, was she late. She tried to cut people slack for not being her. The service has drilled in her anxious habit even more. You were punctual, on time to your appointments and were right where they needed you to be. She tried to give Hunt even more slack because she hadn’t given him her number to call in case he was running late or he got tied up at the clinic. Him calling her parents with the number she provided for the clinic was also probably not going to happen. Otherwise her Mom would have blown up her phone a long time ago. No, she had to be patient.
Patience was not one of her virtues. She’d crossed her ankles as she leaned against the wall, started to bounce her foot. That restlessness making itself known and for a brief second she thought he was going to bale. And that she'd have to track him down. She was slowly becoming agitated if only because she had the feeling he was going to push her buttons with this. But he’d seemed interested enough. She sighed, pushing off from the wall, and began to pace slowly, looking down at her feet before bringing her head back up. Her green eyes searched the lot again, but nothing. That is until she heard the rumbled of the bike in the distance. She stilled, tilting her head to listen. No….he doesn’t does he? The roar of the bike got louder before it came around that corner and into the parking lot. Her eyes instantly followed it all the way up to the front and her lips pursed to one corner of her mouth for a moment. Eyes narrowed slightly until his scent hit her. Why did he have to have a bike tooooooo?!?!? She thought catching Hunts scent as he got off and took the helmet off. Confirming it was in fact him. The man looked good in scrubs, but he looked equally good in leather. Damn good in leather. She only wore her leather when she really wanted a night on the town and seeing him in that jacket made her miss her own, but- focus Paige, you're here to help him. She reminded herself.
She watched him shrug out of the jacket, and caught that smirk of his. The hair at the back of her neck standing up on end again with his presence. They weren’t doctor and patient out here. Here they were on even playing field. “Your Good, I wasn’t waiting long.” She lied easily, brushing the apology of. Her own smirk appeared as she grabbed the skateboard, holding it at her side. “I would have given you until 7:30, before the man hunt began.” She grinned. She stepped back a few steps before grabbing the diner door and pulling open. She nodded for him to go on in ahead of her, mostly so she knew he wasn’t going to make a mad dash for his bike and leave her.
Once they were in the Diner she waved at Mason, who seemed to have the night after dinner shift, and then looked around Hunt to see if the table she wanted was open. Seeing that it was, she started to move towards the corner booth that was usually reserved for large families, but Paige wanted it for two reasons. Privacy, and the fact you could see all the entrances and exits to the diner. You could see who was coming in and out and have a wall protecting your back. Over the course of being in the service, Mason Garcia- whose sister was actually a very close friend of her and Lou’s, as well as Mason and Louis being friends, had quickly learned it was Paige’s corner and she refused to eat anywhere else in the diner but that spot.
Paige slide the skate board on side of the booth facing the wall, and then slid into the side with wall. Before Hunt would get a chance to sit across from her she patted the seat next to her. The sound of the her hand hitting the cushion a bit audible. If he was anything like her, he’d get antsy within thirty seconds of not having his back to the wall, and even if it looked a bit odd, she didn’t care. Her eyes scanned the diner, seeing that the dinner rush was slowly trickling out, and there was a good number of people still, but they’d all probably be leaving soon. Luckily for them, they also didn't have anyone near them. “You never answered my question yesterday.” She said, glancing at him. “Why Xander’s Cross?”
It seemed pointless to have a car in such a small town where you could probably walk mostly everywhere. That, and it was just more affordable to have a bike. He also just liked them more. "Oh, well, lucky me then," he joked lightly about the man hunt. Cal still didn't believe her. Maybe she would have stopped by the clinic the next morning or something and demand to know why he hadn't shown, but that was the extent of it in his head. As she opened the door to have him step in first, his eyes narrowed slightly at her considering it should be the other way around, no? Regardless, he stepped inside, already turning towards that particular booth just as she was seeking it out. It seemed they had the same idea.
He didn't like to be cornered, but he also didn't like having his back exposed. Maybe it came from the military, or perhaps it was the wolfish part of him just needing to protect himself from all sides. He didn't have a pack, after all. Cal was on his own and he was used to it by now.
Falling in step behind her, he was indeed about to sit across from her when Paige was patting the spot next to her. Of course it was strange and would look strange, and his mind was already searching for her endgame. She was up to something- call it a hunch. That sixth sense. A mischief that he often exuded. An eyebrow rose in curiosity and suspicion before he haphazardly tossed his jacket over with her skateboard before sliding into the booth beside her. It was true, though, he wouldn't have been comfortable sitting on the other side, but being the gentleman and the fact that he wasn't a wounded puppy, he would have dealt with it. Still, with her sudden question, he was stunned just a little bit further.
Cal turned in his seat so that he could face her, his arms stretched across the back of the booth and he'd regard her with those playfully narrowed eyes again. "Is that why you asked me here?" he questioned, not knowing whether to be offended or not yet. A light sigh, his other hand filtered through his hair once more as he delayed his answer. "It's quiet, it's different, and Blake thought it was a good idea. He's been wanting to open his own clinic for years- a small town is the best place to start." That was only the half of it. In reality, both of them had to get away, needing a fresh start.
Post by Paige Anderson on Aug 21, 2020 23:00:37 GMT -5
As Hunt turned to face her, Paige turned to face him. Leaning an elbow on the table she rested her chin in her hand, and a smirk stayed on her face while he narrowed those brown eyes of his at her. “No-pe” Emphasizing the “p” on the word. Making a slight popping noise. She arched her eyebrows at him and that look of mischief from yesterday came right back. She watched his hand go through his hair, brushing those dark strands away from his forehead before falling back down.
Aaaaah so Dr. Carson was Blake Carson. And Hunt’s first name was Callum from what her new prescription bottle told her. Listening to his explanation of why Xander’s Cross, she supposed she could accept that. It was a small town, but she couldn’t help but feel like there was more to it than that. She wasn’t going to pry more on it though. The other thing though... “A small town with several clubs,” She had to choose her wording given they were in public. Her eyes scanned the diner quickly before they were back on Cal. “That you haven’t joined yet. And you’ve been here a year?” She pursed her lips and gave him a pointed look that indicated she knew there was more than he was willing to admit.
Before she could say another word, Mason was already bringing over drinks, and by that, it meant Paige’s usual milkshake, and whatever Hunt was drinking. “Masooooon, your service never ceases to amaze me.” She grinned at the younger woman, thanking her before she was off again. Paige took the long spoon the milkshakes usually came with and used it to scoop up a spoonful of whip cream before popping it in her mouth. She tilted her head to the side, savoring the taste. “You know how long it’s been since I had whip cream?” She asked. Glancing at him. “A year. And it doesn't taste the same in iraqi hospitals either.” She sighed, taking another spoonful. And if Mason’s drink service was any indication, Paige’s mouth was already watering at what was to be coming for dinner. “They don’t even have jello.” She said it like it was a crying shame,(which it was) before she waved her spoon at him. “How are you dealing with it?” She asked. Her voice was soft, quiet so no one else could hear unless they were of their own kind and from the smell of the place they were the only two, so she didn’t have to worry about eavesdropping from the wolfen kind.
“And don’t give me the I like being alone bullshit.” She gave him a hard look, indicating she was serious. No, No it’s just me. His words echoed in her mind again. Him and the human. He may not be physically alone, but there was the primal part of him that was. And it didn’t like being alone. “And Yes, I’m bossy and nosy.” She said grinning around her spoon before he could even ask or mention either.
Not. Why did he feel this strange shiver run down his spine? It was that mischievous look he saw in her eyes again, and he both feared and liked it. That also wasn't a good thing.
There was a questioning look that contorted his features at her mention of "clubs", but as she continued he was instantly realizing just what she meant by it. She was talking about packs. It wasn't impossible for a wolf to choose to be on their own, but it was pretty uncommon. They were meant to be with others, he was already feeling it just sitting there with her, with just one other of his kind, a feeling he often forgot about. Cal had tried to forget the sensation of camaraderie in a pack because he was telling himself he wasn't allowed it, he didn't deserve it. He abandoned his last one, a group that basically raised him because he couldn't get a handle on his emotions. Who even does that?
Someone who was weak. And no pack wanted such a weak link.
Cal drew in a slow and deep breath, letting it out in a quiet sigh. While he tried to figure out what to say, the young waitress was bringing their drinks over, so he had a few moments to think of something. As Mason set the seltzer water (with a lemon) in front of him, he offered her a gentle smile, "Thanks, sweetheart." He took a second to eye the milkshake and already regretted his latest urge to "eat better". Really, it didn't matter when you were a wolf, not really, but this was also a way to keep him from binging on much of anything...like alcohol. And for the moment, he thought that maybe he'd be able to get away without answering her inevitable question, simply watching her in soft amusement as she enjoyed the whip cream, reminiscing about the crap they served while deployed. Nothing tasted better than good old fashioned American diner food. Nothing.
'How are you dealing with it?' Alright, there it was again. She was a persistent little thing, wasn't she? It actually amused him enough to make a slightly exasperated smile to crack across his face. When she was finally done talking, answering a question he didn't even have to voice, he canted his head and looked at her. "I deal with it because I have to. Because it makes sense to right now." Well, he wasn't lying to her, but he quite obviously wasn't telling her everything. "Are you, like...the welcoming committee? You're about a year late, darlin'." Cal knew she was just going to keep asking questions, but it was his turn now. "Why does it even matter, anyway?" He knew why it mattered, and yet he remained alone anyway. He just didn't know why she gave a shit about a stranger. Maybe picking up stray wolves was a hobby of hers.
Post by Paige Anderson on Aug 22, 2020 1:02:04 GMT -5
Why yes. Yes it was. Anyone who knew Paige would know taking in strays was just what she did. Human, witch, wolf, it didn’t matter to her. If she saw something in someone and thought you needed help, needed a bit of the crazy that was Paige Summer Anderson then you were sure as hell going to get it if you wanted it or not. The meaning of her name had never fit more. She was a shining ray of summer sunshine with a helpers heart. Wanting so badly to help others so she didn’t have to worry about her own problems. Fixing other people and their demons was way better then facing her own.
Ah! There was a crack of a smile! Her eyebrows shot up as she pulled the milkshake over to suck on the straw. Having to really pull at it to get anything out. “Damn that’s thick,” she muttered quietly, giving Hunt her full undivided attention. His response only made her have more questions. Why did it make sense for right now? She opened her mouth to ask, but he kept talking and she shut up. Only the words that came out of his mouth really shut her up, or more specifically the one. And there it was. The moment the man finally made her puddle, or nearly did anyways. Her heart began to beat a bit quicker. She realized instantly how much she liked this lone wolfs voice. It had a right kind of deepness to it with a dash of husky depending on the word he was saying and Darlin, had her all but purring, and melting in that seat. Okay Ma, I see what you like about him now…. She thought in mild amusement.
Her lips curled up into a sweet smile, “No, but had I been here a year ago and not telling dumbasses how to probably fire missle launchers you might have gotten a slightly different welcome.” Like not letting you go a year of not being with a pack. It could have been longer though. She didn’t know how long he’d been alone for. What mattered was he wasn’t alone anymore.
She took another pull from her milkshake and narrowed her eyes slightly while he turned the tables on her. The smile faded alway as she took the spoon and took another spoonful of the whip cream holding it up in front of her, her eyes staring at the fluffy white lightness Of it. Why’s it matter anyway? Why did it matter? He was a stranger. She didn’t know anything about him but apparently him and his friend decided to open up the clinic a year ago. He liked being alone. Didn’t like the quiet, yet decided on a quiet town anyway. He was running from something she had to guess, but so was she.
“Because Callum,” she said his name so softly if it wasn’t for their hearing he probably wouldn’t able to hear her as clearly as he would. Her grin eyes shifted from the spoonful of whip cream to his face. “No one, deserves to be alone.” She told him simply. She tilted her head to the side, her expression softening. “Unless you like torturing yourself.” Easy P, your going to poke the wolf. Well, she’d already poked. That stupid pull was back again as well. Being near a fellow wolf put her at ease. A form of relaxed she didn’t normally feel. Despite the fact he was unfamiliar. There was something about him that just calmed her. “You spend three tours in Iran, and then 2 in Iraq in a war zone being the only one.” She whispered. “Were you the only one in the Rangers in Afghanistan? You know that feeling?” She asked. “It’s practically hell and no one should suffer from that type of loneliness.” Her Hand holding the spoon had clenched around the glass, her knuckles white from how tight she was holding it. She hadn’t realized how angry she sounded speaking in her hushed tone, or the practical agony that was showing on her face as she recalled those lonely nights. Those lonely full moon, nights where there was no one else to respond to her howls in the middle of the dessert. She didn’t wish that type of loneliness on any wolf. She took a deep breath, slowly loosening her grip on the glass.
“It fucking matters.” She finally put the spoonful of whip cream in her mouth.
He barely realized it, but the slyness of that grin increased. A slightly different welcome, huh? Oh, the doc could have made a very inappropriate comment in regards to that, especially with this talk of whipped cream. But, let's not.
Cal was sensing it before it even happened, the way the air between them tensed and buzzed with a different energy, when everything seemed to metaphorically darken. His gaze dropped to her hand as it gripped the milkshake glass and he was just about ready to pry her fingers from it before she shattered it. Not only would that draw unneeded attention their way, it wouldn't be good for her hand...and she had enough injuries to worry about. But he understood. He knew exactly what she was speaking of, what she felt out there in the desert, that overwhelming sense of loneliness. He still felt it, and still he tried to ignore it. Sometimes it would get so bad that even a run as a wolf wasn't enough to alleviate the stress, and he'd falter and hit the whiskey bottle. Anything to make him feel better.
And he did it to himself. But if he didn't have too many people close to him, they couldn't break him further when they died.
That was why he left his pack. That was why he didn't join another. Yet, she didn't know any of this. She couldn't know.
Brown eyes narrowed slightly with her use of his real name but he did nothing about it, because her following words were what brought that darkness down upon him. She really shouldn't go there with him. She really, really shouldn't. Cal had known her maybe an hour and she was already testing his limits, because this wasn't the conversation to have with him. Anything but this conversation.
Suddenly, the chain around his neck felt heavy. The charm and his mother's ring felt as though they were each ten pound weights, reminding him of his failures, searing into his skin. He pulled on it lightly from beneath his shirt as though it was help the discomfort, all the while he hadn't removed those narrowed eyes from Paige's face. "Of course I know that feeling," he was quick to reply, his voice quiet so others would not hear, but it had deepened considerably, almost to a growl of warning. While his arm was still resting across the back of the booth, his other was on the table as he faced her more. Did she realize she had trapped herself there with nothing but the wall at her back and a lone wolf at her front?
"What matters is that I can't handle the losses." His chest rose and fell, he was seething and she'd be able to feel it radiating off of him. Cal was grinding his teeth, forcing that mask upon his face to stay because he knew it was strange for a doctor to say such things. Especially a field medic in the military who had seen and dealt with it so much. It never occurred to him until that very moment, that that was possibly just another reason on top of all the others with why he tried to stay alone.
Alright, Cal...calm down now. Just calm down. But he was leaning forward a few inches, daring to get into this little wolf's face a bit. "You know...nothing about me." Why was he crumbling so quickly? Perhaps it was that draw of the pack- it could make you strong but also weak. And now he felt completely vulnerable despite the fact that he was trapping her, knowing he should just leave. But again, that pull to his kind, that small sense of comfort was there whether he wanted it or not.
Post by Paige Anderson on Aug 22, 2020 12:27:51 GMT -5
Oh but Paige loved to push limits. It was a dangerous thing, pushing the limits of a loner wolf. A man she knew nothing about, but had learned more about him in the short time sitting here with him then she would have if she wasn’t one that clearly liked to dance with danger.
He was damaged and the damage went deep, and that need to help was growing again. The tension in the air practically crackled in that moment. Paige set the spoon down, turning herself more in the seat so her leg could come up and rest on it. She met those narrowed brown eyes head on. Not moving a muscle. Paige was impulsive to a capital T and often didn’t think about what came out of her mouth so it got her in trouble often. Or, in stupid situations like being cornered in a booth with a lone wolf. One that was getting angry. You poked the wolf P…. Yeah she did. She liked to push and sometimes didn’t know how hard she pushed, and this was a time she might have gone to far.
But, she learned something. He’d lost someone. Why else would he say he couldn’t handle the losses. Had he lost one of his pack members? One of his patients in Afghanistan? Someone close to him that he didn’t even want to risk being in pack again because of that fear? Whoever they were had shook him enough that being alone was clearly what he thought his only options were. Why hadn’t anyone tried to help him sooner? Her mind was racing, and her heart began to pound faster as he leaned in more, daring to get into her face. She didn’t even blink. She met those eyes with her own, despite feeling the anger radiate off of him. She’d certainly pissed him off, and now she was with her back to a corner. The hair at the back of her neck stood up on end, and she clenched her own jaw. She’d looked death in the fact more times then anyone should, and she was not easily intimidated. Three older brothers and a war gave her a thicker skin then most.
Paige forced herself to stay calm, those primal instincts wanting to feed off the fact he was angry and cornering her. She didn’t like being cornered, it brought out the fight or flight instincts, and she was not a flighty person. It was a good thing they were in the diner, it would keep them in check. Paige had no intentions of fighting Hunt though. That wasn’t what this was supposed to be. Slowly, thanking the fact it was her good arm facing the back of the booth, she reached up and gently touched his wrist. Her touch barely there as it brushed against his skin, but it was enough of a touch to send the camaraderie instincts into overdrive. He’s upset, we need to calm him down. They told her. Whether it would have the effect she wanted or the opposite, she couldn’t be sure, but she did lean her own head in slowly, while she looked up at him.
“Wrong.” She whispered. There was a quick quirk of her lips the corners of her mouth turned up into a small smile. “I know that you and your friend came here to start a small practice in a small town. You care about that friend enough to protect him. Probably have claimed him as one of your pack. You were an Army Ranger in Afghanistan. You have a scar from a laceration on your back that hurts like a son of bitch, and you offered to be a listening ear to an injured solider should she ever want to talk. That’s not nothing Hunt.”Okay Smart-ass. She tilted her head to the side slightly, her expression softening. “I also know now, from what you just said, there’s a lot of shit going on in that head of yours. I’m not gonna push.” Yet.“But you also need to know.” She moved her hand from where it was on his wrist to gently place her index finger in the middle of his chest. “You aren’t alone in not being able to handle losses.” Tanks dog tags weighed heavily under her shirt, as did the heaviness of losing some form her squadron in both accidents. The guilt that she hadn't discovered the landmine sooner was like an icy touch against the back of her neck as the goosebumps formed. “And whether you want it or not, I’m here.” She was speaking quietly, making her tone gentle to try and smooth over the tension. She removed her finger from his chest, putting it in her lap.
“And for the time being, I’m not going anywhere.” She tilted her head back up so she was looking at him straight on. “If you need anything, I’m here. Except if you need me to leave you alone or go away. Be less annoying,” She rolled her eyes, and shrugged her shoulders before the smile appeared on her face as she looked at him. “See, it’s in the fine print upon meeting Paige Anderson, if she decides to be your friend your sort of stuck with her.” She finally leaned away picking up the milkshake and bringing the straw to her lips. Sucking on the straw while she arched her eyebrows expectantly at him.
last edited Aug 22, 2020 12:35:05 GMT -5 by Paige Anderson
No one could help him because he ran, he demanded that they all leave him alone. Cal knew Draeden had followed him at first before giving up, and that sense of loneliness truly swallowed him up. And now, in a town he thought he could maintain this lone wolf style, where it had managed to be just a little bit easier...this fucking know-it-all needs a checkup and was trying to throw his world upside-down. By the look on his face, which seemed to be darkening with each passing second, Hunt was not amused by her just spewing out the only facts she knew about him. It was facts and nothing more, nothing about him truly.
Her touch, though, had made him cringe slightly. Although it was more of a brush and nothing more, it was still doing exactly what she knew it would- solidifying a bond of kinship, further telling him that he wasn't the only one of his kind, that there was no need to be. Yet it still wasn't enough. Her smart-alike remarks wouldn't be enough to even remotely change his mind. Cal was still visibly seething, his upper lip having lifted in a subtle snarl that wouldn't get any worse than that, but he was scowling at her.
He came so close to turning away, to leaving the diner in a flurry of anger, but her rambling stilled him, even if it was momentarily. 'You aren't alone in not being able to handle losses.' Well, wasn't that sweet and understanding of her. And obvious bullshit. Why? Did she forget that he had prescribed her the pills? Was she talking to anyone about it or was she hoping the drugs would suppress the memories and urges of violence that could be twice as bad because of that wolfish side of her?
Oh yes, he'd been there. Multiple times. And it wasn't pretty.
His hand turned so that fingers could take a hold of her wrist, not as gently as he had yesterday but it wasn't exactly painful either. Just enough to make sure she kept her attention on him. "And I can be an intolerable prick," he told her, recalling Shannon's words. Her voice was screaming in his head now, she was screaming about Bri and he felt his other hand curl into a tight fist. Not to strike Paige, of course, but to suppress the need to lose his cool. And finally his gaze broke from hers, his head hanging low; attempting to draw in deep breaths. That was when his grip subconsciously tightened, but it was not in a threatening matter- it was almost as if he was quietly clinging to her, out of habit more than anything, his thumb every now and then brushing the back of her hand.
"So then...what of you?" Just when Paige might have thought he was giving in, just like that, his face tilted upwards just enough for those ocher eyes to carefully watch her. "Are you talking about your losses...or are you a fuckin' hypocrite?" Don't challenge him, sweetheart. He knew a hypocritical liar when he saw one.
Post by Paige Anderson on Aug 22, 2020 19:04:06 GMT -5
Paige set the milkshake down on the table and slid It over a bit, sitting up a bit straighter as Hunt turned his hand to grip her wrist. He had her attention for sure, and her smartass antics were clearly not working because she could still sense that annoyance and anger coming off of him if not more stronger than before. Nice going Paige… she took a slow deep breath, reminding herself he had her in a corner and the only saving grace was the fact they were in a public diner. One look at Mason and Paige knew she could get assistance immediately, but she wasn’t going to. She could handle herself and the mess she’d just started.
She smirked slightly as he called himself a prick. And I’m an Intolerable bitch.You can push me away all you want Hunt, I’m not going anywhere. She thought. Thinking it was a defensive tactic to be an asshole. Her eyes flickered down to his other hand, seeing it clench into a fist, and her other hand moved to be over it. Her fingers cold from the glass, as his head dropped down. She didn’t say anything, the humor from before now gone. Now she was just a presence. She felt his hand tighten around her wrist, the brush of his thumb against the back of her hand. He was angry at her, but that touch was telling her a different story. That bond. Kinship. And their's was a different, if not stronger kinship. They were werewolves, but they were also servicemen. And that bond... That was a bond only shared by people who had served together. New the clutches of war. There was nothing you wouldn't do for the man standing next to you in the middle of a warzone. Paige's newest injuries was evidence of that. Hunt was starved for the werewolf bond just as much as she had been until a few days ago when she’d come home. When she could just surround herself by her family and be healed by that bond. Hunt had a human. As nice as that human might be for him….he didn’t know what Hunt really needed.
While his thumb moved against the back of her hand, her thumb brushed up and down his knuckles on his close fisted hand. She didn’t think she had him yet, but she thought she was close. At least closer. But when he raised his head slightly to look at her with those eyes she felt the knife go right up through her ribs and into her heart. And he twisted.
And he twisted it good.
Her body tensed, her hand tightened slowly as she stared at him for moment. Her blood was practically roaring in her ears and her breath caught. Not going there Hunt. Okay maybe he was an intolerable prick… but she should have expected it. If you pushed enough there was bound to be resistance or...they pushed back. There was a pang in her chest and she could feel the flash backs starting, but she forced them away. Forced them back into the locked and chained vault that she didn’t want to touch with a ten foot pole. She closed her eyes taking a deep breath. Feeling her own anger starting up, but his grip on her wrist grounded her. The hand that rest on his wrist tightened to the same pressure he held hers with. Her thumb pressed against where his pulse was and she could feel the rhythmic beating of it. Using it to calm her down.
She was a hypocrite. But she hadn’t asked him to talk about those losses. She’d merely told him that if he needed anything she was there. “I didn’t ask you to talk about your losses.” She said quietly. Opening her eyes to look at him. “I merely wanted you to know if you need somebody who gets it, or need someone to talk to I’m here. The same offer you gave me yesterday. Only I’m also offering you what you're denying yourself. Because you need it.” Her Hands tightened around his wrist and hand. Her lips pursed, before there was a flicker of what might be considered a plea entering her eyes before it left. “And yes. I am.” She admitted bluntly. Paige was at least honest. She didn’t sugar coat things unless they needed sugar coating.
She leaned her head in then where their foreheads nearly touched, keeping her distance but also getting closer. His scent was much stronger now that he was closer and she had to suddenly swallow the lump that formed in her throat as her skin practically buzzed with the tension between them. “I’ll talk about my loss, when you talk about yours.”Well...that was one way to ensure they never talked about what either of them wanted to not talk about. She took another deep breath as she searched those ochre eyes. “You need a friend that’s of your own kind Callum. I saw the way your eyes lit up yesterday when you saw me for the first time. Your head is telling you no,” she turned and nodded to their hands. “Your Body Tells me yes.” Her Green Eyes flickered back to his. “Friends. That it. That’s all I’m asking for.” She told him gently.
Slowly she drew herself back, removing her hand from his fist slowly. If he released her other wrist she'd slowly let go of his.
He could only assume that this was supposed to be a simple, pleasant evening out with casual conversation, maybe trade a few war stories here and there. How had this happened? How had this all just turned on its ugly head? Cal could feel himself slipping in and out of thoughts and feelings he had fought so hard to suppress, to forget and leave behind. Instead, they had waited, lingering in the shadows until someone was brave enough (or perhaps stupid enough) to try and coax them out.
Her hand was over his other and he was sighing through his nose, still struggling to maintain composure. He was fighting to stay strong. There had been plenty of times where he wanted to give in and feel that sense of wholeness a pack offered...and then he remembered the perfect one he had left behind, after all they had done for him. Then he remembered his child and the scathing words Shan had to say about it. Every time he thought about Brianna, it was like a hot knife was cutting off another piece of his heart, searing it black. Soon, there would be nothing left.
But this was difficult. The wolf was fighting him, reaching out to her, trying to latch onto her in any way that it could while the human side was trying to argue with venom and slightly cruel words. Anything to get her to back away. But she wasn't, and it made his pulse race and yet angered him at the very same time. It was frustrating but also intoxicating, and his head was beginning to spin. This woman may not know of his losses on the home front and perhaps she couldn't even relate...but she could understand everything else. Literally everything, things Blake could not, as much as Cal had almost spilled the truth to him on several occasions. Why couldn't he just give in?
Cal knew the moment his words struck the right chord. Paige was doing exactly what he was, and they were both huge hypocritical assholes for it. Yet, she had pushed him too far, and right away, too. Buy him fucking dinner first. They barely knew a thing about each other and she was already diving far too deep, into things that he couldn't even bring himself to tell his best friend about. That was a different guilt in and of itself. He was just riddled with guilt and wanted nothing more than to make it go away, if his mind wasn't so hellbent on feeling like he deserved it, that others were better off this way. It was a vicious cycle he thought he had broken, but this beautiful bitch threw him right back onto the track with barely a bat of her lashes.
Perhaps that fear was stronger than he ever thought possible.
Listening to her blood pound within her ears, his own heart was about ready to match her own, knowing she was lingering too close to that edge where he had nearly gone. But Cal forced himself to breathe, to come down from this angering high if only to keep her from spiraling. It wouldn't be good for either of them to lose it in such a public place let alone the both of them at the same time. When Paige opened her eyes again, he was still watching her carefully; his features beginning to look more tired than menacing now at least. The pain and anger was there but it had subsided a little. "You insinuated," he said, his voice somehow even quieter than before but at least his tone was steady, only with a small edge to it. "Because...those losses...are the only things I would have to share..." Breath staggered inside his chest when she leaned in a little closer. He was grinding his teeth, as though he was still trying to warn her to stay back, those calculating eyes watching her face closely. So very close. Her scent was even stronger and it was nearly coaxing out the wrong primal need.
'I'll talk about my loss, when you talk about yours.' So, in the end, neither of them would ever speak of whatever haunted them. They were both similar in that way, he could already tell. Bloody stubborn to an absolute fault. His mind was screaming at him, yes, while his body was telling him far too many things at once. It wasn't like he hadn't run into other werewolves here in Xander's Cross, but he hadn't spent more than a few minutes with them, and certainly hadn't lingered so close to one like this. It was messing him up, making him confused and he was slipping.
Cal barely blinked, couldn't remove his eyes from her even though she was the very thing causing him to struggle yet she was also keeping him grounded. He really wasn't happy about that. 'Friends. That's it. That's all I'm asking for.' He wanted to ask why again, but there was no point. It would just be asking for her to repeat herself. Then, Paige began to lean away and Cal almost didn't let her. His fingers around her wrist, however, did not release their grip. Instead, he was drawing her hand to his chest where he'd pull out the chain from underneath the collar of his shirt so that she could see the plain gold ring that dangled on the end, along with what appeared to be a simple white-gold charm. If she dared to inspect it, and this was probably her only opportunity to do so, she'd find the etching of a heart-shaped paw on the back of the charm with the name "Bri" in the center.
His heart was pounding again, his breathing softly labored because it was clearly a trigger and he was trying not to lose control. "Do not...ask questions," he told her, his deep voice barely above a whisper that sounded like both a warning and a plea. Paige was free to assume whatever the hell she wanted, because he clearly wasn't going to give an explanation or who Bri even was.
Friends, she said. For some reason she still wanted to reach out and embrace him, to bring him into the fold. His words and this action wasn't exactly a yes...but it also wasn't a heavy no either this time.
Post by Paige Anderson on Aug 22, 2020 22:14:44 GMT -5
She thought he was going to let her go. What happened after he let her go, she didn’t get a chance to think about. She looked at Hunt a bit surprised when he pulled her wrist to his chest instead. Her heart rate began to pick up and as did her breathing. Her eyes flickering up to his face, back to her hands in confusion for a second before he was pulling that chain out from under his shirt. Mother. Fucking. Hell.
With her other hand, she hesitantly reached forward. Having to lean in closer to look, she was entering his space again to look at it, but she was afraid to even touch it. It felt like such an invasion. Such an invasion into his world, and she barely knew the man. Why was she doing this again? Why was she here? Seriously. Because she was bored? Needed a project to do? To try and fix this damaged wolf in front of her before she left again? Those ugly thoughts entered her mind, and her fingers trembled for a second. He needs help.He needs a friend Paige, this is what you do. You’re only good for being peoples friends. A voice told her.
She took a deep breath. Any air she had in her lungs was suddenly gone as it felt like she’d just been sucker punched. She looked at the charm, holding it ever so gently she ran her thumb lightly over the name. Seeing the little paw. The metal was warm still from where it had rested against his skin, and Paige looked up from looking at “Bri” when he said not to ask questions. She could see it then. How hard this was for him. This little sliver of showing her his loss. Paige’s wrist turned in his hand pulling her wrist towards her slightly, so she could hold his hand. Her grip firm.
His wife. His wife had died, was the only thing Paige could think of. Worse. She’d been his mate. From what she’d gathered from the little paw print, she'd been a werewolf. Her wedding ring, and her name on that little charm. Bri. Her own heart seized at the realization. She let go of it as if it burned her. Her hand fisting in the space between them while her lips pressed into a hard line. She unclenched her hand and then reached forward, tucking that necklace up under his shirt for him. Getting it away from sight. Her hand rested over it. The fabric of his shirt acting as a blanket to keep it from view. His breathing was labored, and she could hear his heart beating. Feel it from under his shirt, it’s quick pace. She didn’t ask questions. She didn’t need to. She squeezed his hand instead, and then let a huff of air out through her nose.
She was clenching her jaw rather painfully she realized then, and she was blinking rapidly. Not realizing she had tears in her eyes. Greg popped into her mind suddenly. That fucking bastard… The pain he’d caused came crashing back and she was angry. So very angry in that moment, and she was sure if Hunt wasn't there holding her hand, acting as that tether to the reality she might have fled the diner because a shift would have come. Her green eyes were already taking on a slightly golden hue, and she forced herself to breath. To unbunch her tense muscles. Hunt had lost his wife (from what she could only assume) and Greg had his, but decided to just sleep around. Use people. He was a user. She didn’t think it was fair. It wasn’t fair that good people had to suffer. That Callum Hunt had to suffer, and she didn't even know him, but that gut feeling told her he didn't deserve it.
Her bottom lip trembled slightly, and then she was reaching up to her own shirt. “You showed me your’s, I’ll show you mine.” She said softly. Her voice cracking, as the tear rolled now her cheek, and she sniffed. She felt it was only fair. Only right that she shared with him the loss she refused to talk about, if he had shown her his.
Her’s wasn’t as pretty as Hunts. In fact her’s would look all too familiar most likely as the jingle of dog tags came up from under her shirt. Normally soldiers had two. One for the coffin and grave site and the other to identify their body. Around the chain on Paige’s neck was her own, and two others. One specifically was a custom one and not military issued. If Cal looked it would have a list of names on it.
CJ. Burk Jonathan Frank Jesus Cuaves Peter Bailey
The other one would have the name Tank k-9 as well as his info on it. She let the tags rest against her chest, looking up at the ceiling so she could wipe the tears that had decided to fall away. Three dead from a landmine, one dead from the ambush that had injured Paige. The fallen brothers from each branch. Her pack overseas...dead.
She let a shuddered breath out as she looked at him. A weak smile appearing on her face. If he was done with the dog tags she’d tuck them back under her shirt with one hand, and then run the hand down over her face, trying to keep her breathing under control with slow steady breaths.
If only Paige knew the truth about who Bri was- it was probably worse than what she was thinking and good that she didn't know the truth. Cal was already struggling to maintain control, and if he allowed the vision of his daughter to enter his head again, he'd be running out of there very quickly and probably not return for a few days. Close to two years later, and the wound was still far too deep. He was afraid it would never heal. A part of him understood that seeking out another bond, a kinship, a pack could help...but his mother and Brianna had been his pack, his flesh and blood, and now both were gone. Losing a pack member was one thing, but true family, werewolf or not, was always worse. They had been literal parts of his soul, parts of him that he couldn't get back.
Cal told himself to look away when she reached for the necklace cautiously. He never took it off, not even to shift. The length of the chain was the perfect length to fit comfortably around his wolfish neck when he changed and not get snagged on anything. It was all he had left of his mother and daughter and he could not part with it. Regardless, that didn't mean he could look down at it, so he instead concentrated on Paige's face, seeing as well as sensing the sudden flood of pain, noticing the glistening of tears in her eyes. His own emotions probably weren't helping, but her presence was at least somewhat combating his, easing them until her own were escalating.
Hunt knew what was coming before it even happened.
She was tucking the necklace away and he could feel her heat even through the thin layer of his shirt. It took whatever will he had left not to rest his hand over her own against his chest, but he was still studying her features closely. He only blinked when she suddenly broke the silence to speak, words that would have made that smile spread across his face were it any other time. And right now wasn't that time. And once she pulled out those tags, she didn't need to explain. He understood they were friends she had lost in the service. It was blatantly clear.
A soft cringe, feeling her pain as it hit home for him, he reached out for the tags if she let him; the pad of his thumb running over the embossed names in the metal. A part of him wanted to ask what had happened, but he wouldn't be a hypocrite, not right now. It wouldn't be fair and he had no right to know, even if this moment in and of itself was strangely intimate, as if they were bearing their souls to the other, exposing their scars. Eyes lingered on one tag in particular- Tank's. The fact that she had worked with a K-9 unit was of no surprise, and there was the briefest flicker of a smile on his lips before it was gone. If anyone belonged in that military unit, it was a werewolf.
Somehow, everything had escalated and came so close to spiraling out of control...but now they both sat there in silence, in a pain they each felt equally, a pain they both had endured differently. As she tucked the dog tags away, his attention lifted back up to her face to see if those eyes had returned to their normal green, and he found himself reaching up to wipe away a tear from her cheek that she had missed. "I'm sorry..." he whispered. Sorry for her loss. Sorry for nearly wanting to bite her head off. Sorry for whatever, everything, and anything right then.
After a moment, he spoke again, and there was a lighter tone to his voice. It wasn't much, but it was still there as maybe an attempt to break the tension. "Do me a favor, though...just call me Cal."
last edited Aug 23, 2020 0:07:15 GMT -5 by Cal Hunt
Post by Paige Anderson on Aug 23, 2020 13:08:52 GMT -5
They certainly were bearing their souls to each other and they’d probably only been in that diner for ten minutes. Their bare, badly scarred, shredded darkness of a soul either of them had left. On full display for the other. There was no words that needed to be said. Only a look of understanding. That kinship that they knew what the other was going through, or at least understood it to an extent. Hunt’s fingers on her face had her subconsciously leaning into the touch for comfort. It certainly calmed her down, and she looked into those ochre eyes of his, the last of the gold fading away from her own eyes as she took a deep breath.
She placed her hand over the one she was already holding, sandwiching his large hand between her much smaller ones. Giving it a squeeze. “I’m sorry too…” She said softly. For putting them into this situation, for his wife, and probably a hell of a lot more that she had yet to do. Her shoulders rose and fell with the deep sigh she took, and after a moment of watching each other he finally spoke. His tone was lighter, and surprise spread across her features. She blinked in surprise at him for a second. Just call me Cal.
A soft smile spread across her face that had her head tilting to the side as she arched an eyebrow at him. “Does everyone call you that or only your friends?” She asked curiously. She patted the back of his hand lightly before she finally released it. Her movements were hesitant however, as if she was afraid of losing that life line. But the tension from before was quick to evaporate. All that was left was the tension that the two of them seemed to naturally have. She finally turned away, facing the table again more. Reaching for one of the rolled things of silverware, she pulled the spoon out and used it to scoop up a section of the whip cream she hadn’t touched, and then held it out to him. “Here, I think you deserve it.” There was a small smirk on her face as she glanced up at him. A small peace offering for the way things had escalated in the span of a short time.
She took another deep breath to release all the rest of the tension in her body, finally relaxing, or as much as she could with Cal sitting next to her. “I also think I owe you some questions of your own.” She smiled. She’d practically drilled him since he sat down, the least she could do was answer anything he wanted to know. And after a few moments ago, they knew what not to ask about.