KARA/CAROLINE
I woke with a start, jumping up to a seated position and then realized I was on my bed back in the apartment. My heart was pounding a steady beat as I remembered what Rick had done. I was in shock that things could turn so south so fast.
He shot me!
He shot me?
Really? He actually did?
The! The... Jerk!
I wished I never invited him to be my plus one to the wedding. He wouldn't know about Hightop or how to get back there. I could have disappeared.
My back ached and I stood through the soreness, twisting back and forth to ease the burn. I wandered over to the bathroom and held up my shirt in the mirror. But the skin was smooth and clean, no whisper that a bullet smashed around my insides only some time ago.
And into a lung no less! That was a freaking deadly shot. Without immediate medical attention, with a punctured lung, you're dead. I took a heavy breath and it felt as normal as could be. It was fascinating that my inner healer could cure so quickly and so thoroughly.
But my body was still aching.
I realized that my shirt was clean, and my back cleared of blood. William must have taken care of me. The thought made my face light.
Turning from the bathroom, I stepped out into the front room, but when he wasn't there, I tiptoed to Catherine's and peeked in at the bed with a loving smile on my face. But my face fell in worry when he was not there either.
"William?" My subpar human senses tried to pick him out, but all I could hear was the muffled sound of a tv in the apartment above and the hustle of life outside on the street below. Was he okay? Did Rick come back? My eyes widened with my own nerves and panic crashed into my toes. I ran through the apartment calling his name, hoping that I had missed him on the couch or bending behind the kitchen counter, when his voice entered my head.
Kara? Are you awake?
William. I relaxed at the sound of him. Where are you?
I've just been taking boxes to your car. Sorry Love. I meant to be there when you woke up.
I was scared. I admitted.
I'll be right there. I'm getting in the elevator now.
Okay, my word was soft. I sat down on the arm of the couch to wait for him when I realized though my whole body ached, my side was stinging. A lift to my shirt showed no wound, but not a second later I remembered Will's gunshots. It was him! He wasn't fully healed! I never finished after I got hurt.
A gentle knock sounded from the door and then Will let himself in. I leapt at him. "Are you okay? Your side! I still need to help you!"
My hands came up to touch his abs when he instead caught my hands in his. "No. Stop sweetheart. My natural wolf healing will take care of this one. Don't wear yourself out."
An uncomprehending noise sounded from me. No? "No? What do you mean no? I can't let you just wait it out and suffer. I can help. That's what I'm here for."
"I'm not suffering," he stated stony and turned to lock the door. "You need to get your strength up."
My temper flared as he stepped into the kitchen. "Screw that. I need to help my mate."
There was no emotion that crossed his face as he pushed a white box of chocolates with a purple ribbon across the counter to me. "Eat. Get your strength up."
I studied the box. "Thank you. That's very nice. Now can I..."
"Eat," he said more forcefully.
I looked at the chocolates and then up at him, now hurt. "You don't want me to help you?"
"I can handle it. Don't worry."
"Don't worry? We were both just shot William. We need each other." I started to step around the counter.
He stepped backwards like he was trying to keep the counter between us. "You just take some time to relax."
My eyes started glistening with tears of rejection. "Maybe I want to relax with my mate by my side."
He dropped his eyes down to his tightened hands, jaw clenching. "I should go finish packing the car. We need to leave before someone finds your ex."
It was like a stab to my stomach. My words were weak as I followed his strangled movements. "You can feel that can't you? The hurt in me that you won't let me help."
He said nothing, fingernails turning to points in his fists.
"Are you angry that I didn't want him to die? William, I don't want anyone to die!"
"It's fine."
"Then let me help you."
Again, he said nothing.
The silence went on.
"Fine," I spoke lightly, morose and hurt. I turned back to my bedroom and just before I closed the door, I spoke quietly to my bed. "We're submitted mates if you can't remember. I can feel your gunshot like it's my own. Just thought you'd like to know." Then I closed the door and laid down stomach first across the bed, clutching a pillow to my chin.
The hot sting of tears pushed behind my eyes and I forced it back, trying to take deep breaths and keeping my emotions under control.
After a few empty moments, a gentle knock sounded at my door. Will's voice was raw and quiet. "Kara? Can I come in?"
No.
A resigned sigh came from behind it. "Kara, I'm sorry. I thought I was helping you."
By pushing me away.
"I wasn't trying to push you away. I was trying to let you heal yourself first. I didn't think for you to be hurting because of me."
"Well, I am hurt because of you. And not just because we were shot. We were just about killed. I just wanted you to hold me and tell me everything was going to be okay." I lost the tear battle. One slid down my left cheek.
"Honey. I'm so sorry. I'll hold you now."
I wanted to sulk some more, but the matebond was burning at me, almost screaming in my ears that I needed to get to Will. But if that's what he was fighting through when I needed him, I'd try to fight through it now.
"Kara, please."
I just watched the wall and ignored his plea.
"I'm coming in okay?"
I wiped my cheek and nose against my sleeve and then sturdied myself trying to put on his stoic mask.
When there was still no answer from me, the handle twisted and he came in the room, the bed sank when he sat next to me. A warm hand then caressed my back. "You okay?"
No.
He sighed, hand still rubbing. "I'm sorry. I don't ever want you to hurt because of me."
His touch started pulling the healer out, knowing that he was still in pain, but I tried to force her back like the tears I was already blocking.
He knew my intentions and a thumb slid over the crook of my neck, testing his ridges there. "It's okay. You can heal me."
I finally twisted my head around so I could see him. My glance meeting his troubled blues. "Can I?"
A sad smile tilted his cheek. "Yes. Sorry Love." His arms opened as an invitation and I came off of the pillow and clung around his neck. He nuzzled down deep in my hair and he wrapped tight like it had been five years since we'd seen each other.
My body warmed as the healer drained into me like a watering can from the heavens. I could see the wound at his side locking inside my mind. See the path of the bullet and the new slices from his own claw tips as he had already dug the bullet out himself. My hand moved to stroke over his side, feeling the soft gauze and stiff tape that he'd used to cover the wound. His mimicking pain within me receded as muscle and skin started mending back together. In another minute fresh skin grew and solidified over the area, and I bent my forehead to his neck a little more tired, but not overwhelming.
"Thank you," he spoke tenderly, a warm hand wrapped over the back of my head and a kiss to my hair. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tried to stop you."
I shook my head no, tightening my own hold.
After a few minutes and the hotness of tears disappearing from behind my eyes, he whispered as he stroked my back. "Are we okay?"
I pulled from his arms, just enough to finally see his face, my voice still a little strained, but a slight smile trying to play forward. "Yeah." A slight sniffle. "Was that our first fight?"
He grinned finally feeling the air lighten and fingered a lock of hair over my ear. "I wouldn't call it a fight. More like a conflict."
"Oh, that's too bad," a playfulness snuck into my words, through still shallow breaths. I knew I couldn't say it out loud, so I bit my lip and looked him deep in the eyes. I heard that make-up sex was really good after fights.
His grin widened, showing a strong smile of white teeth. Well, in that case... He leaned forward a new predatorial gleam in his eye. It backed me down into the pillow and he hovered over me, like a lion stalking a rabbit. Then it was most definitely our first fight.
I giggled as his lips pounced on mine.