Conor: hover mother

62 9 4
                                    

{Conor}

I came to sometime later. Tish and Grant were sitting on one side of me, and Ralph was in his wheelchair on the other side. Frank was at the foot of the bed, talking quietly with Peter. Everyone looked worried. The balloons had shifted, now stretching across the wall. Some were sinking a little low. I had an IV running from my hand and a heart monitor beeping slowly behind me. I wondered how long I had been out.
"He's awake," Grant said, nudging Tish with his elbow.
Frank smiled at me. "How do you feel?"
"What happened?" I questioned instead, looking down at the straps on my body. Tish rose to release me but stopped me from sitting up, instead handing me the remote to raise the bed.
"You were dosed with enough silver to take down a pack," Peter told me. "Victor's had you on fluids trying to flush your system, but you almost died a couple times."
"They restarted your heart once," Tish told me. "That was terrifying, never do that again, Conor."
"How long was I out?" I asked.
"All day," Victor told me. "Long enough to find who did it. Gayle fired them. I didn't know that hunters could be fired."
"She fired him, so I didn't eat him," Tish growled. "He gets to live."
"Tish, breathe," Peter told her.
Her eyes glowed orange and settled down to her normal blue after a moment.
"So how are you feeling?" Frank asked again.
"A little woozy," I admitted. "A little hungry. I feel better than this morning for sure. What happened? Why'd I pass out?"
"You did this half shift sort of thing that was...freaky. And then you couldn't shift forward or back, and we tried to sedate you, and that didn't really work, so we strapped you down and hoped for the best," Grant explained. "Tish is right, you're never allowed to do that again."
"Oh." I used the remote to sit up further. "But I'm okay?"
"Your guess is as good as ours. I'd take it easy, maybe not let Tish pummel you today," Peter recommended. "If you were any other werewolf, you'd be dead, Conor. You're lucky we had so much of your blood on hand."
"Oh."
I didn't know what to do with that information. I was glad I wasn't dead. Frank let out a sigh.
"Can we get you anything?"
"Could I get some dinner or lunch?" I asked. "Or my pancakes from earlier."
Tish laughed and procured my plate. "I'll heat these up," she told me and left the room.
"That woman was quite worried about you," Ralph rolled closer to pat my hand. "You could do worse, Conor."
Grant smirked. "She's been here the whole time. I had to shoo her out to eat. Ralph is not wrong."
"I don't want to know," Peter mock covered his ears. "You know the hunters would have a field day with this knowledge."
"The hunters?" Grant scoffed. "Dad, you work for them too."
"You know what I mean," he shot back. "If they knew that Tish had a soft spot for Conor, no matter how reciprocated, they would keep him here. Like they would Aidan, if Conor had let them."
Slowly, I was piecing together what they were talking about. Tish had a crush, I guessed. Like Katie, before, back when I was less aware of human romantic emotions. Tish had promised me no strings attached, perhaps she didn't want to admit feelings that would break that promise? I couldn't ask her with the others in the room; they would just make fun of us.
I hadn't really considered Tish like that before and so resolved to think about it when I was alone and had time.
"Why?" I asked to change the subject. "Why did someone poison me? What have I done?"
"There are some who believe that you're to blame for the New Mexico facility," Frank explained. "A dozen hunters died."
I scoffed. "That was Stefa's doing. Hunters left my blood out where she could get to it, and she used it to murder the whole building. And she only did that because a hunter antagonized her into nearly killing me. Hunters should stop looking for external reasons for things going wrong."
I left Grant out of it. Either they knew of his involvement, or they didn't, but the facts remained. His being turned was ultimately on Stefa.
"I thought she was in love with you; why would she kill..." Frank questioned.
"Because I was trying to stop her from killing the hunter," I replied. "She sliced me into ribbons. Grant saw."
"I did," he admitted. "Yet another time I have no idea how you survived. You looked like a carved meal, Conor."
"I felt like one too," I agreed.
Tish came back in with a steaming plate and set it on the rolling tray, placing it in front of me. I was glad that my stomach didn't flip-flop like before. Everyone watched me eat the first bite and then I set my fork down.
"You guys, this is a bit much," I complained.
"Now you know how I feel," Ralph pointed out. "And I haven't been anywhere close to death since we got here. Go on now. You're going to be watched like a hawk, Conor. Get used to it."
I groaned and set to my meal, trying to ignore the staring eyes. Grant rose from his seat first and clapped his father on the shoulder.
"We should report to Gayle and Sasha," he said. "Gayle, I'm sure, is waiting to hear from us. And I prefer to find my mother instead of letting her hunt me down."
"Fair," Peter admitted. "Feel better, Conor. I'm quite glad you're not dead."
"Same," I smiled.
Frank nodded and headed out by the time I finished my bacon. Ralph let out a huge sigh, leaning back in his wheelchair.
"I haven't called Mel today," he mentioned. "I couldn't bear the thought of calling her, not knowing if you'd pull through. We were pretty sure you would die this afternoon, Conor. Victor didn't know what we could do for you."
"I'm not dead," I told him. "I'm not sure if I'm up to eating with the hunters again, but I'm not dead."
"Oh, I'm pretty sure you don't have to worry about that ever again," Ralph chuckled. "I wish I could have recorded it. Even Sasha, for all her bluster about hating werewolves and vampires, was on a tirade. Now I'm going to check on my own dinner," he mentioned, giving a nod to Tish. "Don't worry about me, Conor. No hunter is even allowed on this floor now. I'll be back."
"Okay," I said, though still not feeling comfortable with Ralph out of my sight.
Tish sagged in her seat as Ralph left.
"I'm so sorry," she told me. "If I had even suspected that someone would... That they would ignore everything they had been told and poison you. Knowing full well that's how Grant is so calm, that you're here on goodwill from a prominent werewolf pack. I just..."
"Tish."
She stopped rambling and stared at me.
"It's not your fault or my fault," I told her. "Okay?"
She nodded but didn't look convinced.
"So what's your deal with Peter?" she asked, changing the subject entirely. "I would have thought you would get along with him."
"I don't hate him," I replied slowly, trying to catch up to the new conversation. "I don't really understand him. He wants to help Grant, but he dragged him back here. He doesn't seem to stand up to Sasha or Gayle, and I know that he doesn't hold the same position here anymore, but still. I think if he was forced to choose between our pack and Grant, he'd choose Grant every time. Which I don't blame him for, but that makes me cautious."
"You have a fair point," she mused. "Well, I think we're slowly morphing to be on the same side. Hopefully. I like Peter, I wouldn't want him to be the enemy."
"Tish, do you have feelings for me?" I asked, thinking that if she was allowed to abruptly change the subject, then I was too.
Tish gaped at me for a long awkward pause. I continued eating my meal.
"Um, yes," she said finally. "Which I'm only admitting to because it seems stupid to start lying to you now. And I wasn't really prepared to watch you die today, so I'm maybe wearing those feelings a little more than I would normally."
"Okay," I said since she seemed to be expecting something from me.
"I wasn't going to say anything because I told you I didn't want a complicated relationship, and you're still with Stefa technically. And because it's rude to be pining over someone in the friend zone; date who you want, Conor. We're barely friends, we've only known each other for, not even two months."
"Friend zone?" I questioned.
"Ah. Um, it's a made -up term for someone who you could date, but you don't want to. Like we could date, but you don't like me back, for instance."
"Oh," I reflected for a moment over the last bit of sausage on my plate. "I don't think you're in the friend zone, Tish."
She tilted her head. "I hear a 'but' coming."
"But, you're right, I don't know where I am with Stefa," I admitted. "And everything I thought I knew said that wolves mated for life, but I like you too. I'm not sorry we slept together. So I'm confused and haven't had a chance to think it over because then everything happened with Ralph, and you weren't here, and Stefa's not here, and ..." I stopped, at a loss for words.
"Things are more complicated as a human?" Tish offered.
"Exactly," I smiled.
"What did I miss?" Ralph rolled into the room with his plate on his lap. "This wheelchair can get some speed, let me tell you. I think I'll be just as fast as I was before if I can stop getting my fingers caught in the wheels."
"I wouldn't doubt it," I laughed.
____
Ol' Ralph has some great timing.
Thanks for reading!

BoundariesOù les histoires vivent. Découvrez maintenant