I Moved On, Why Don't You

Loyalty

Unknown pov

As soon as school was over I made my way to the hospital, anxious to meet the kid I wanted to become friends with. Of course I don't know his name or what room he's in, so I have no idea where to even start looking for him. Running my fingers through my hair, I started towards the information desk when a subtle scent catches my attention . . . silver? Why am I smelling silver in a hospital for werewolves? I turn away from the desk and walk down the hall, not knowing where I was going, but spurred on by my instincts and curiosity. As I hurried down the hall, I was drawn to one of the rooms by a pain filled voice.

"I wish what mom said was true, I really wish you were still alive maybe if  you were still here I would be able to bring myself to feel something . I'm so sorry . . . I'm so sorry that I couldn't protect you, my baby."

I froze outside of the door, not wanting to intrude on a private moment, when the scent of silver reached my nose again and without thinking, I burst into the room and jerked the cover off the shocked patient; lifting his gown and sniffing his stomach. I was right there was silver on his wound, not enough to be dangerous anymore, but enough of a scent to draw an alert wolf's attention.

"W-What are you doing?!"

"What happened here? Were you stabbed by someone?"

"What happened to me is none of your business."

"Answer my question!"

"Yes, alright! I was raped and beaten and when they were finished, the person that did it decided that I was too much trouble to be kept alive and they stabbed me!"

"I'm______________."

"Did Eric send you here to spy on me, because if he did you can leave right now."

"I came on my own . . . I wanted to see how you were feeling."

"Why?

"After I heard about what happened to you, I figured you might want someone around who was willing to watch out for you."

"No."

"No one wants to be alone."

"Listen to you  talking like you understand everything. I don't need anyone close to me. I don't need anyone around me pretending to be my friend, while they go behind my back and talk about me . . . I refuse to trust anyone else with my life or my heart, especially someone I don't know who comes to visit me out of a sense of morbid curiosity disguised as concern."

"What if I told you that I don't believe you did what you're accused of? What if I said I believed you were completely innocent?"

"Why are you asking me that? Why won't you just leave?"

"I believe you."

"It doesn't matter . . . whether you believe me or not, it doesn't really change anything."

"Seriously, I only want to be your friend. Noone asked me to come here and I'm not trying to trick you or play games with you."

"Why would I want to be your friend? I don't know you and I don't trust you."

"I can wait until you trust me, all I ask is that you don't close your heart like you're planning on doing . . . your pain won't last forever and I want to be there when you and help until you start smiling again."

"If you're not going to leave, can you at least let go of my hospital gown? You're making me uncomfortable."

Blushing, I dropped the gown and tucked the cover around him, unable to meet his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I smelled silver and when I realized it was coming from you I acted without thinking."

"Silver?"

"Yeah, your wound has traces of silver in it . . . the good news is that whoever stabbed you never planned to kill you . . . I think they were only  trying to scare you."

"I guess I should consider myself lucky, but for some reason I wish they'd ended my pathetic exsistance."

"Don't say that."

"Alright, since you know so much, you tell me what I have to live for . . . what good thing in my life is going to take my pain away or erase what I nearly did to myself? What light is at the end of the tunnel I'm going through?"

"I. . . I don't know."

"My brother went through the same thing you're going through . . . well not the same situation, he was in the wars and he had seen so much pain and violence . . . had killed so many that he started believing he didn't deserve to live anymore. His wolf fought the darkness inside of him for so long, that he nearly went feral from the strain and then one day my brother's wolf, Philippe . . . well he was so tired and he released control and that's when my brother wandered to the kitchen and grabbed a knife. Noone was with him . . . he seemed fine and I couldn't miss anymore school and my parents had to work so we left him alone . . . my brother who was crushed by guilt, anger and fear . . . who was teetering on the edge of insanity and we left him to fend for himself."

I felt a tear falling down my cheek and roughly brushed it away.

"It wasn't your fault, I mean you didn't know_________."

"It wasn't his fault either. He fought for our pack and almost lost his life because of it. Just like you . . . you never did anything to deserve what happened to you, but just like him, you're suffering unfairly. That's why I came to see you, because I didn't want to see someone else destroying themselves when I could help them."

The boy, turned away, clearing his throat.

"So, what happened to your brother?"

"I got the image of him lying on the ground with blood pouring from his wrists imbedded in my memory."

I lifted one of my hands showing him burn like scars on my palm.

"And I have these . . . let's just say when I picked up that knife,  I learned why silver is dangerous to werewolves."

The boy nodded his head  quickly understanding the situation and I lowered my hand.

"I'm going to go."

Nodding again he lay down with his back to me. Before I could step a foot outside, I heard his voice again.

"My name is Joel, what's yours?"

"Dillon."

"I'm not saying this because I trust you, but can you come back tomorrow?"

Smiling at the small bit of progress I'd made, I nodded and started walking again.

"I'll see you tomorrow."