Ripped Jeans and Werewolf Kisses

Chapter 35:

WHOOP WHOOP AN UPDATE! It's been a while! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 35:

Without so much as a second thought about the life that remained behind her shoulder Camila burst through the doors of the packhouse. The agony was palpable in the air she breathed. Not knowing what to do or who to find first she ran up to her old room to leave her things before heading to the hospital. She hurried up the hallway, using her flashlight to climb the stairway. Once had been able to do it with her eyes closed, but now things had changed. Whether it was a side effect of the stress or if it told of a greater change, she decided not to think of it for too long.

She reached her bedroom door and frowned in confusion when she saw the dark wood was littered with taped up poloids and posters. Her mind elsewhere she carelessly opened the door and almost gasped in surprise. Even in the darkness, she could see that everything was different. The blonde head sleeping in the bed and the rearrangement of her furniture, told her all she needed to know. This was no longer her room. What did she expect? Surprisingly she wasn't hurt. There were bigger things to cry about.

Camila dumped her things in the cleaning closet hastily before shifting and sprinting to the hospital.

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Camila always found the idea of wolves in cars discomforting. A powerful beast with canines and talons, trapped in metal death boxes. Once kings, of the night-painted forest, at the total mercy of lights and tar and mirrors. Feet against pedals instead of paws against the raw earth. She hated it. 

The doctors said it wasn't her fault. The driver of the truck was going to jail. Like that made the pain any less, like it even mattered. It was a normal day, quintessentially so. On the usual route to the store. Life-changing mistakes on quiet morning roads.

The truck rammed into her door. The glass shattered across her chest. Boiling coffee spilled, at her feet. Screams, blood and a half shift out of panic. Patrick on speaker, hearing the whole thing.

She would never forget how unrecognizable her best friend seemed, a small pale body littered with tubes and needles.

Camila gently traced the pink puckered skin with her finger. The scar that ran across Libby's face was long and harsh. It would probably never heal and no amount of concealer would ever truly cover it.

She held her hand and told her stories, cried till her voice went hoarse, it was so hard loving someone, but being completely helpless.

Camila began to brush Libby's hair and washed her. Her condition was still critical. She was in a medically induced coma.

As she was finishing up she placed her hand tentatively on Patricks back. Lost in thought and forgetting the world around him he was startled.

"Oh, sorry." His voice sounded weak and broken.

He grabbed her Camila's hand, a shared moment of heartbreak. They had been through a lot together. More than they cared to talk about. His parents had lead alongside hers and so, they both had lost so much, so young. But seeing him now. She couldn't even compare it to anything she had ever witnessed before. 'What would it be like to love someone that much?' She mused. To love someone so fully that their soul was forever tied to yours...

With Patrick's adoptive family having recently moved to the other side of the country for Damiens college, things were even more hard on him. 

She exited the room and spied Sammy in the corner of the reception. She went and sat down next to him at the kids colouring table. He didn't look up but stoically and silently passed her a piece of paper and a purple crayon. The expression was strange on his face. He seemed to have matured overnight. Her little man, was not so little anymore. Her heart ached.

"How's momma?" He asked, after a few minutes of colouring. The way he asked it was also strange. The first few days he was so expectant. Waiting eagerly outside the door as if every time it opened, his mum would be stepping out with open arms. He'd jump up and down at the windows trying to catch a glimpse of her. He'd bombard whoever had seen her last with an onslaught of important questions.

"Are they feeding her? Tell the nurses pink jelly is her favourite food!"

"This is my favourite teddy! Momma said it would keep the bad dreams away, so maybe it will help her."

"Make sure momma has her special red lipstick, she doesn't like people seeing her without it!"

Now, it was just a question he asked so plainly. It was not that he didn't care anymore, or had lost hope. He had just gotten so accustomed to adults not giving him straightforward answers. They laced their words with vague, baby-talk platitudes, herself included.

Camila put down the crayon. " I'm scared Sammy."

His wide eyes snapped to hers. He didn't know adults got scared too.

Camila continued, "I'm scared. And daddy is scared too." She grabbed his hand, "and that's okay...but sometimes we just have to have courage even though we might be scared. Even though we can't do anything..."

Sammy kept colouring but the crease in his brow told her that he was deep in thought. When he grew tired he nuzzled into her, a typical action cubs did to packmates for comfort and solace.

"Can we go say goodnight to her?"

Camila picked Sammy up and nodded.

--

"She's so tiny...she kinda looks like a rat..."

Camila laughed at Sammy's comment. "You looked exactly like that when you were born."

"What! Really?" Sammy screwed up his face in disgust. The sibling love had already begun.

Not much had changed since she had last seen the baby. She was still tiny, pink and squirming. With a cute button nose and tiny pouted lips. She was the most beautiful thing Camila had ever seen. Her first days in the world, filled with so much pain. but she was a fighter. Barely a week old, but a fighter. Watching her heartrate slowly increasing day by day, watching her begin to breathe by herself. It was this tiny miracle that gave her the hope she desperately clung to.

Camila sent a silent prayer to whoever was listening. This family, her family didn't deserve to be destroyed. This baby needed her mother.

Seeing Sammy's eyes droop she re-adjusted him in her arms. "I think its bedtime, for you mister. We'll come see baby girl tomorrow morning.

She tucked him in, thinking he was sound asleep, when he called out to her as she was leaving his room.

"Aunty Mila?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Why has daddy not seen baby sister yet?"

Camila was lost for words. "I-I-think daddy is just very focussed on momma right now."

The kid was more observant than she gave him credit for

Not wanting to deal with any other tough questions she didn't have the experience or qualifications to answer, she said goodnight and shut the door. 

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