Halcyon (DISCONTINUED)

13

There's blood everywhere. 

The corpse of the former Alpha lays in the middle of the floor in a puddle of blood. His throat is torn out.

Ridge is currently sitting on the couch. Dried blood covers his lips and chin and practically the whole front of his shirt is coated. His eyes stare into nothing; they're dead, emotionless. The weight of what he did is crushing him; I can feel it. 

I'm laying beside him on the couch, ice packs everywhere on me, while a bunch of weres get to work cleaning up the house and getting rid of the body. 

The were doctor cleans me up - my ribs are taped and I have to get stitches in my face. Its swollen and hurts to talk. Something I'm sadly used to. 

Ridge doesn't talk, barely looks at me. I don't know what to do. Is taking a life really that bad? They used to do it all the time, like it was nothing. I'm conflicted, but I do know that Ridge needs me. 

Its painful to move around but I do it anyway, even with my screwed up legs. Weres heal faster than humans so I know my ribs and face will be healed in a couple of days. 

It takes awhile, especially amongst the cleaning crew, but I manage to coax Ridge into the shower. 

I help him wash (we both have our underwear on) and run my fingers through his damp hair. 

Ridge's cold fingers meet my hips and my breath hitches slightly as he pulls me towards him and simultaneously burying his face in the crook of my neck. "It's okay," I soothe, "it's okay," because what else can I do? 

"It's not." His voice is gravelly, but I can hear the pitch in it that tells me he's in the verge of breaking down. "I killed someone." The way he says it - it's like he's confessing - and the realization of it seems to dawn on him more - like saying it out loud made it real. His fingers dig into my hips. "I fucking killed someone." 

My heart aches for him. I know there's nothing I can say to ease his pain, so I don't say anything.