Zoey
I didn't sleep much that night, the anticipation of my first day back in training bombarding my mind with questions. Would I remember anything? How much would I have to relearn? How hard would Stitch push me? How weak was I really?
I waited until Van had left for his morning run before I sprang out of bed to get ready. Stitch had suggested doing a sort of skills diagnostic test before breakfast. Get it out of the way before I have a chance to freak or back out. Either he knew me better than I thought, or he'd trained enough people to know the tendencies of rookies.
Once she knew that I was going to be training, Luna took me shopping. I'd been borrowing her clothes and making due, but workout clothes hadn't been in her lended closet. While I didn't want Luna buying everything for me, I didn't have any other way of getting what I'd need. Maybe I could find ways to be helpful around the house to earn my keep. They wouldn't expect me to do it, but I would feel better if I knew that I was doing something to be helpful.
Dressed in my matching leggings, tank top, and running jacket with a clean new pair of tennis shoes, I jogged down the stairs to the main floor. Stitch was already waiting in the foyer, scrolling through his phone as he paced. His forehead wrinkled for a second. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, he looked up and immediately tucked his phone into the back pocket of his jeans.
"You ready?"
I glanced down at myself, hoping I didn't look too ridiculous. "...as ready as I can be, I guess. I have no clue what I'm doing, so you'll have to tell me."
His gaze flickered over my outfit before settling on my face. A little glimmer of something sparkled in his eyes. "I think you'll do just fine, Zoey. We're just seeing how much you remember; nothing too intense or straining."
I followed him out the front door, around the corner of the house, and into the woods. A few yards into the trees, there was a small clearing where someone had obviously prepared the space for training purposes. The grass had had a little chance to grow, but it was still short enough to not be annoying.
"This is more of a wrestling ring," Stitch informed me, "but it'll work well for our purposes. I only need enough space to move around, so we'll be fine here."
I nodded and pulled my shoulders back to stretch the muscles. I did remember how much I hurt if I didn't warm up before working out. One particularly painful memory ricocheted in my mind, sending phantom pain to my lower back and right hip. Yeah... that day sparring with my best friend had been rough. She went a little too hard, and I ended up with a few bruises.
Stitch shrugged out of his jacket, revealing the well-fitted black T-shirt underneath. "What kind of things were you doing in training when you left your pack?"
"The usual," I shrugged. "Self-defense maneuvers, sparring, punching, blocking, archery, a tiny little bit of knife throwing..."
He cocked an eyebrow. "That's quite the extensive resume you've got. Anything you didn't do?"
I bent my leg and grabbed my foot to stretch the quad muscle. "Everyone in the pack got a basic overview of every kind of training. If someone is a fighter and stay in the pack with a mate, they get to choose which type of combat they will specialize in."
"...which would you have chosen?"
I had just finished the basics when my birthday came around and I found Jax. I'd never had the chance to find out if I even qualified as a fighter, so I'd never thought about which direction I would have taken my training.
Stitch must have understood my silence because he waved a hand to dismiss the question. "Let's see what you remember, and then maybe we'll let you specialize in one area."
I nodded. "Sounds fair."
He stepped towards me, his hand balling into a sparring fist. My body moved on some long-forgotten instinct, dodging the punch he jabbed at me. He darted forward with another jab, this time aiming for my shoulder. I turned my torso to avoid it, grabbing his wrist and twisting his arm behind his back.
He paused long enough to cast a glance over his shoulder at me before twisting free of my grip. I felt the sideswipe coming before I saw it, and I surprised myself by how fast I jumped over his leg. We stared at each other for a second before he swung an arm around my neck and pulled me into a headlock. Again, some long-forgotten instinct kicked in. I curled my body behind his and pulled backwards, dragging both of us to the ground. When I hit the ground, I used the momentum from his fall to launch into a backwards somersault. Somewhere in the process I pulled my head free and landed with a knee on his chest. Stitch clearly had some instincts too because he grabbed my hips to throw me off, only he caught himself before getting to the throwing part.
I stared at the military man on the ground for a second. My wolf hummed a little with pride at our skills, but we both kept in check. I'd blocked a few punches and wriggled out of a headlock. There was a lot more to test out, and I could very well fail at the rest. I needed to stay focused on the task at hand.
"You've got some good groundwork," he noted, now pushing me up onto my feet. "Let's see what else you remember."
I stepped back and waited for him to get to his feet. A glimmer of excitement flickered through my mind. I'd enjoyed this back in the day. I was at the top of my class because I'd pushed myself to be the best, to try everything, to never be beaten. If Stitch pushed me hard enough, I could possibly regain everything I'd lost and more!
Stitch chuckled as I bounced on the balls of my feet. "You seem a lot more comfortable than you were 10 minutes ago. Starting to remember more?"
"I remember that I was the top of my class once," I answered, rolling my shoulders.
"Let's see if we can get you back to that."
My eyebrows went so high they nearly gave me a headache. "Top of the class? In a lycan pack? I don't think so. Even if I'd been here my whole life, I still don't think I'd make the cut."
"Eh, don't count yourself out."
He threw a couple more punches and poorly executed swipes before switching to a different approach. His jabs came in rapid succession: right, left, high, low, left, right, left, low. My wolf gave some help, alerting me to the next attack even as I dodged the previous one. We'd made a good team before, and we made a good team now.
He kept coming at me, forcing me backward to the edge of the space. I took a step back, feeling the taller grass brush against the back of my leg. I needed to push him back or find a way around him.
Duck under his left arm, my wolf whispered.
He threw his left fist forward, leaving his left side open for a split second. But I took it, dodging the strike and ducking under his outstretched arm back to the center of the ring. A little fizzle of pride shot through my veins. I'd done it!
Stitch spun towards me, a big smile on his face. "Good job."
I barely had time to smile before he lunged forward, wrapped an arm around my waist, and spun me to the ground. My back hit hard, and my lungs oofed all the air out. Stars dotted my vision, and the trees above me wavered a little. I gasped for a breath, heartrate speeding up. All I could see was the wavering trees above me, and those were slowly fogging over as I kept gasping for a breath.
"Zoey! Zoey... Listen to me. Take one slow breath. Just one breath. Listen to me, Zoey. Zoey!"
I could hear him, but the words seemed to filter through my brain without registering. I may have had the muscle memory, but the stamina wasn't there. That hit had knocked the wind out of me, and my wolf couldn't step in to help me. So I laid there, fighting for a breath and hoping I'd be able to recover.
Van
He'd felt Stitch's concern from the far side of the house. His friend's heartrate jumped into high speed, and Stitch wasn't answering any messages. Since Stitch had gone outside to work with Zoey, it could only mean that something had gone wrong.
He ran out the front door and paused on the front step. "Stitch! Zoey?"
"Van!"
The makeshift wrestling ring... He took off around the corner of the house and into the trees. Everything blurred together, and he soon reached a scene he couldn't quite comprehend.
Stitch knelt beside a gasping Zoey. She stared up at the sky, but her eyes didn't seem to be registering. No matter what Stitch said to her, she wasn't regaining her breath.
"What happened?" He dropped down on the other side of Zoey.
"We were sparring, and I must have tackled her too hard," Stitch said. "She hit the ground and started gasping like this. I can't get her to take a decent breath."
"How long has she been gasping like this?" Van stared down at Zoey. If the medic of his team couldn't get her to breath normally, what was he supposed to do?
"...less than a minute."
Van glanced up at his friend. "What else can we do? She just needs to take one good breath, right?"
Stitch nodded, placing his palm on Zoey's chest for a second. "I was hoping that her fight instinct would kick in. If she's not used to other people touching her, she should fight me; but she's not."
You could try, Van's wolf suggested. Maybe your touch will freak her out enough to take a breath.
And if that doesn't work? Van asked.
You could try forcing a breath into her lungs for her.
Van rolled his eyes. Forcing a breath into her lungs... kissing her, essentially. His wolf truly had lost his mind.
"Van?" Stitch sounded genuinely panicked.
"Let me try," he growled. He brushed Stitch's hand away and cupped Zoey's face in his hands.
"Zoey, listen to me."
She blinked and sucked in a deep breath. Her eyes lost their glaze, and she clearly saw him. For a second, she stared up at him as her breathing calmed. Van bent his head and rested his forehead against her.
"You're okay, Zoey. Just breathe."
"I am breathing."
He pulled away and sat back on his heels. She rolled onto her side, turning away from him, and sucked in a few more breaths. Stitch placed a hand on her shoulder and coaxed her through some more breaths until he was satisfied that she'd recovered.
Van shook off the tight feeling in his chest at the sight. Why should he care if Stitch took care of Zoey? Stitch was the medical professional, after all.
"Sorry," Zoey murmured after a moment. "I... I don't know what happened. One minute I was fine, and then I hit the ground and—"
"I hit too hard," Stitch cut her off. "You weren't ready, and I shouldn't have tackled that hard."
She glanced up at him. "It's fine. You were testing me as you saw fit. It was my fault for not being prepared for it."
Van flinched. She was slipping back to her self-destruction, all-fault-is-mine mentality. They'd lose any chance of bringing her wolf out if she went too far down that path.
"They didn't let you train at Midnight," Van reminded her. "You haven't been able to continue. You're allowed to be less than perfect."
She shot a glance at him over her shoulder, a pained, haunted look that pricked his conscious. Was it the mention of perfection? The memory of not being allowed to train? For some crazy reason, he wanted to know precisely why she hurt so much.
"I think that's enough for now," Stitch announced. "We'll regroup tomorrow and figure out what you'd like to do to move forward."
Van rose to his feet and offered a hand to Zoey. She scrambled to her feet by herself, almost as if trying to prove she didn't need his help. He bit back the growl that rose in his throat. Yes, she needed to be stronger; but she didn't have to make a drastic change all at once. It wouldn't happen even if she wanted it to.
"I, uhm..." She brushed herself off and stared down at her shoes for a moment.
Van couldn't help but notice her new outfit. His mom had taken her shopping recently, so this must be one of the purchases. The matching athletic clothes fit her well, but not in an overly revealing or seductive way. He almost laughed at the thought of her wearing something like that. No, this ensemble suited her. She looked less like the skittish wolf he first met and more like a wolf who belonged somewhere. He'd have to tell Stitch to compliment her later; any little confidence boost would be helpful.
"If it's okay, I'm going to go lay down for a bit," she finished. "I need to figure out what happened."
"Of course," Stitch said, nodding his agreement. "Don't stress yourself. You'll get there."
"Sure. Excuse me." She darted past the guys and headed towards the house.
Van watched her until she disappeared around the corner of the house. Letting his lycan hearing pick up the sound of her footsteps, he waited until she was inside before turning to his friend.
"Were you able to sense her wolf at all? Even when she was down?"
Stitch shook his head. "Her wolf must have retreated even further when she went into shock. I reached as far as I could without alerting her, but there was nothing. Not nothing in the sense that she's human, but like something has left a hole where it should be. It just confirms my concern that her wolf is in hiding."
"And there's nothing we can do to bring her out?" Van scrubbed his hands through his hair.
"...nothing that won't harm her," Stitch answered. "If we force her to come out before she's ready, we could do more damage than what's already been done. We need to be patient with her. I know that she'll come out when she trusts us."
Van puffed his cheeks. "How long will that take?"
"...as long as it takes, Van," Stitch huffed. "I know you're not happy with this arrangement, but we have a job to do and we need to give it our best."
"I know," Van growled. "I'm just... I haven't been able to get my head into it."
"Maybe you don't want to get your head into it because you're worried that you might that being home isn't as torturous as you expected." With that grand statement, Stitch patted Van on the shoulder and went the same Zoey had.
Standing by himself in the clearing, Van looked at the small indent in the grass by left by Zoey's landing. He'd taken a few hits himself over the years, so he understood the shock of having the wind knocked out of you. But he'd always had the fortitude to bounce back. The way Zoey had stayed down, the shock clouding her eyes... He hadn't seen that in a long time.
This could be a long road...