6 - Hospitals

Loupe Fiasco, California
USA - North America
The Main Pack Lodgings

Sativa
It took all the willpower that I possessed in my mind not to entirely despise the woman that smiled so brightly before me. In a way, I wanted to tell her that it wasn't her fault; but, the fact that she was the wife of my mate was too much to pass on my faltering state of mentality.

"Well, I was wondering if you would like to join us for dinner - you weren't present and Romanov asked if I investigate what you were up to."

So it's come to sending investigators after me?

For a reason, unbeknown to me, the woman - Natalya, was a lot less intimidating. I could see that her smile was genuine. And that, that bothered me. Again, I wasn't sure why it did.

"Alpha Ivanovich, he requested my presence?" I arch a brow. I stopped my Wolf from rejoicing as I offered her a stern warning.

"Merely," she answered. "I requested it, not him. He only approved it."

"Oh," I manage to keep the disappointment from my tone. For a while, I stand there. Not talking, or doing anything; just watching her as she watched me.

"So," she nervously played with her fingers. "Do you want to eat dinner with us?"

I lean against the frame of the door. I looked her up and down, I could tell that I made her nervously from the intensity that my eyes held. Natalya had an ulterior motive, I could tell.

"Yesterday, you looked as if you didn't want me anywhere near you; hostile almost - now, you are not." I muse, looking at her closely.

"Yeah," she breathed, clearing her throat before she continued. "You have to understand - all my life, all I've ever been told to do is stay away from Rouges, and now, you come and you kill our Pack member; plus you're here on trial for murder. So forgive me for being rude."

Guilt overwhelms me as I remember Ivan. "Um, was he the Beta?" I didn't need to specify exactly who I meant.

"God, no," an airy giggle escapes her lips. "Ivan couldn't run a Pack to save his life. He was the third-in-command; like the Gamma."

"Oh," I mutter.

"He was hard, but everybody has those days, right?" I nod, not sure as to why she's telling me this. "I cannot say that I blamed him, his mate died over a year ago; may her soul rest in perfect peace." I don't talk for a while, my lips becoming dry as I swallow.

"He had a daughter?" I ask, a clawing feeling running up the cravens of my chest.

"Has," she corrected my use of tenses. "Amiya." Natalya confirmed. "Angel, that thing. She doesn't know he's gone, so forgive her if she goes around calling Daddy."

The clawing feeling gets worse. I flinch and recoil as Natalya brings a hand to my head, "Shit," she swears, my lower lip trembling. "You are burning up, Sativa." I pull away and mutter incoherent things under my breath.

"Well, you did say training grounds." She nodded. "But, Daddy will help you with any further questions."

The memory rings round and round in my head. I was a killer; that wasn't what bothered me. But, I had made an innocent girl suffer because of my childish behavior. I can't help when I rip myself from the doorway and run straight to the bathroom, Natalya hot on my trail. I lean over the toilet bowl and empty the contents of my stomach until my chest was heaving so hard, it was getting difficult to breathe.

"My Lord," Natalya swore as she held my hair back as I threw up again, my head spinning. "I am getting some help, just hang up in there."

I let one of my pale, sickly fingers linger one of her tanned, healthy ones. "No, I'm fine," I manage, my throat burning with every action that I made to speak.

"Don't be ridiculous," she looked fearful and close to tears. "Help is on its way."

A panic attack. I had one every now and then, so I immediately recognized it as it came. They had started when I was four, nothing remotely unbearable. But, after my parents died, it was almost every day. I've managed to keep the numbers low, but I couldn't help the fact that I had orphaned a girl so young.

I had no more tears to cry, it was true. I was nothing but disgraceful, and useless. I knew that emotions were for the weak only, but as I lay there, clutched the side of the bathtub, simply struggling to breath, I couldn't help but think if the weaknesses that I had spent so long trying quell, had become a part of me that I wanted rid of. Weaknesses are of every single thing to ever walk the earth. Not a soul excluded from its jaws.

I had always told myself that I was an exception.

But, God in heaven knew that I wasn't even close.

-

Loupe Fiasco, California
USA - North America
The Pack's Health Centre

Sativa
The white light blinded my vision, my tears blurring it further, making it impossible to see clearly.

"Would you like some water?" the nurse asked, smiling unanimously at me.

"Yes, please," my voice I heard come out of my mouth was hoarse, I could hardly believe it was mine.

She nodded and retrieved a white, plastic cup from the drawer, filling it with water from the dispenser.

"Here," she smiled as she handed me the cup, walking out of the room.

I down the water greedily, almost choking at the relief it gave me. My sore throat didn't feel much better, but it helped to an extent. I drop the cup on the floor, laying my head back down on the pillow. The room was small and white. Medical tables arranged neatly around the uncomfortable bed. A framed image of a Lycanthrope hung on the wall directly opposite me.

I glance at the clock, twelve forty-seven. I had passed out for nearly five hours, and I didn't feel much better; if anything I felt worse. I brought a shaky hand to my head, breathing in and out in slow motions. My eyes stung with the overflow of tears that threatened to fall.

The little girl should hate me, but she didn't know who I was, exactly. Or, what I had done to her father.

I chewed my lip, there were no windows in this room. I needed air, fresh oxygen produced from the thousands of trees that stood rooted into the lands of this Pack. But, I couldn't, not because I wasn't allowed, I just couldn't. I needed my Wolf free, but for a reason that I didn't ponder over, a felt a little at ease whenever the prospect of the forest was near - but here, this forest, this time; the prospect of a forest made me feel nothing but hatred.

I was a Lycanthrope. A beast, at times untamable.

Anger. It was forever coursing through the veins of a Lycanthrope; but mine was always a little more than Jo's. Joseph Nathan Carter. He was my brother. I rarely speak of Jo, when I do my heart clenches, and my throat clogs up. Right now, I didn't know whether he was alive or dead. He had joined the Army at the age of sixteen. When really, I was only just fourteen.

For a long time, his moving broke me. But, I had moved on. Pushing all the unwanted feelings down a box and pushing it to the back of my head. For a while, they stayed there. I was grateful that they didn't resurface. But today, right now, right here, they were fighting for my dominance.

A fight that I lost years ago.

-

Asher Falls, Arizona
USA - North America
Sativa's Family Home

Sativa
"Nathan, please," my mother held unto my brother's shirt as he signed the last of the forms. "I beg you, don't do this to yourself, don't throw it all away, now."

"Fuck off," Nathan spat viciously. Causing mother to flinch, and I to frown my head further.

"You can go to any university you like, graduate, get a good job, marry a nice girl," Nathan swore at her. I too, didn't miss her emphasis on the word 'girl', yet I pretended all.

"Leave me alone - get the hell out of my way woman," he snarled at her, blindly throwing his clothes in a big suitcase.

"Please," she whispered.

"Fuck you all," he spat.

I didn't understand what was happening to him.

"Mommy?" I mutter, driving my Doc Marten's further into the floor. "I don't understand, Nathan is coming back to visit."

They stopped, and they looked at me. Nathan's stormy grey eyes looking into mine. His forever messy blonde hair flopping about his shoulders. I had always adored my brother. He was tall and strong, and he never failed to make me happy whenever he could - just not now.

"I am leaving," he zipped up his black suitcase and dragged it roughly down the stairs. Dad was at work, so he didn't know.

Mother screamed, and yelled, and cursed him for all that he was worth, but he didn't look back. My heart broke into tiny little pieces. I sat on the staircase, crying and crying. Not because Nathan was gone, but because JoJo, hadn't said goodbye. Nathan hated it when anyone called him Joseph, but he let me do it, and also let me call him JoJo; when he was in a really good mood.

When my father came home early that day, I could tell that he knew nothing about what Nathan had done. And, for a while, mother managed to steer him from the subject, telling him that he had gone to a friend's for the night.

Dinner was the worst, the silence was what killed me most. Only the ruffling of the papers as my father read his newspaper in peace, my mother nervously biting her nails as her eyes droned sadly at the empty chair that her son, Nathan, used to occupy.

I couldn't say that I did blame her. After all, it wasn't her fault, entirely, that Nathan had left.

At times, when we ate, Nathan would crack seriously funny jokes, and my mother would have a go at us for being so noisy, and father would glare at us all, but in the end, we all laugh.

It was perfect; my mother's perfect, All-American Dream of the white picket fence had almost been completed. A precarious daughter who did nothing but follow in her perfect bother's footsteps. God, she had been hellbent on perfection; maybe, that's why she never got it.

That night, I didn't sleep.

I tossed and turned for all I was worth, worrying and thinking about Nathan. What if he was hurt, lost, scared? I couldn't stop the flow of emotions that swelled for my brother. Of course, I hadn't known him as a sister should a brother. I was certain, he had spent half his years in boarding school, and when he wasn't there he was off for his Pack Training or with his new girlfriend that hated me.

But, I have loved him from a distance. And so had he to me. To be honest, I wouldn't have had it any other way.

My heart had lurched when I heard rocks being flung gently on my bedroom window. I calmed myself, I didn't know how, but I knew that it was my brother.

I was filled with excitement. He hadn't forgotten me. I didn't bother with a coat or shoes and I flung the window open. I stepped out into the balcony and smiled as I saw him, all black, hair wild, and all smiles looking up at me.

"JoJo," I breathed, steadying myself on the banister, staring at him.

"Jump," he commanded softly. I trusted him, so swinging my legs over the railing, I let myself fall as the air whooshed around my ears. As usual, Nathan caught me in his arms, hugging me as tightly as he could before setting me down.

"Come," he commanded.

I followed him until we reached the end of the road, and to our special spot. It was bench, an old shaky thing, but Nathan and I loved it immensely.

It's silent, but as usual, I break it. A slight habit.

"Is it because of the secret?" I ask, he knew what I had meant.

"You should have come with a coat, and shoes," he frowned, avoiding the question and removing his leather jacket to place it on my shivering shoulders. "Stupid girl."

"Nathan, is it because of the secret?" I repeat.

He stays silent, before replying a quick,"Yes."

"It's safe with me, Jo."

"I know, little girl," he smiled down at me.

"I'm not little," I groan as he ruffles my hair.

"Sativa?"

"Hmm?"

"Do me a favor," he turned to me, his eyes watery. "Never grow up."

"I'll try," I giggle, reaching up and catching a droplet of his tears on my finger. "I love you so much, JoJo."

"I love you more."

Silence, but this time, I'm not the one to break it.

"I have to go," he sighs.

"Bye," I smile, wrapping my small hands around his massive shoulders, I kiss his cheek and breathe in his scent for the last time. "Bye, JoJo."

"Remember," he chuckles. "Except for Mom and Dad, secret safe?" He holds out his pinkie and waves it out.

"Secret safe." I confirm, entwining my small pinkie with his bigger one. "I pinky swear it."

Joseph left that same night. And, for a while, I didn't go back home. I just sat there, Nathan's secret swarming my head. Mom knew, and so did Dad. They hated him for it, but I didn't. I know that was why he left - the secret was why he left.

The Pastors told me it was an unforgivable thing to be; my friends told me it was gross, and my parents were pissed.

All because Nathan, my wonderful, older brother whom I was taught from an early age to so adore...

Was gay.

-

Loupe Fiasco, California
USA - North America
The Pack's Health Centre

Sativa
It killed me, the way the memories swarmed my thoughts. Not giving me enough time to process them. Nathan, God, how I wished he was here. I run my fingers through my hair as I lay down on the uncomfortable health bed.

I raised my fingers to my lips, chewing down on them as I thought hard. My headache had long gone, and for that, I was thankful.

Army. You fight, you go head first into a battle, not knowing the outcomes. Some, they leave their families behind. I had read all about it online after Nathan left. I didn't see why he would want to go to such a dreadful, dark place.

He was gay - homosexual.

And, that had always bothered my father. For a while, me too. My father, he had always told me that Nathan was 'exploring his sexuality', and that he would come back to his sense once he finds his mate. It may feel or look as if I was betraying my brother, but I believed him. I sigh, Nathan was close to bisexual. I hadn't understood what that was until he explained it to me. Admitting himself that his homosexuality might be nothing more than a phase.

But now, I had a better sense of an understanding.

The feeling, of being looked down upon because of who you are is heart-wrenching.

My brother didn't choose to be gay-ish - he just was. Yet, the two people that had raised him from birth, the only two people that were supposed to understand him, drove him away because of their lack of understanding.

"Please, come back Nathan."

I mutter those words into the silent room, almost wishing for him to appear right next to me. To hold me, and tell me that I was alright. That he'd never leave me ever, ever again.

But, this is reality.

A hard, cold place you are introduced to at a certain age. In my opinion, I was introduced a little too soon.

But, there was no changing the past for the future.

"Who the fuck is Nathan?"

I let a string of profanities strain out of my mouth as my head whips to the side to see who the voice belonged to. Even if, without me having to see, I would've recognized the tone gravely.

Alpha Ivanovich.

I breathed in and out, laying a palm on on my chest to stop the erratic beating. In his hands, he held something, and he was twirling it around and around; the golden lighter.

I said nothing as I shamefully took in his appearance. He was dressed him black jeans that clung to his legs, emanating the muscles that habited there. He wore a shirt this time, thank Lord, it was black, and plain. Stretched thin by his large and muscular frame, showing the heavy, defined chest that lay under.

His combat clad feet tapped against the chair that sat beside him, I hated the fact that he was so collected.

"Alpha Ivanovich, I didn't realize you had entered," I manage, my throat aching from the stretch I gave to it.

"I hadn't expected you to," he chuckled, his forest green eyes alight - but not with amusement or happiness. "I saw that you were very deep in your thoughts, no?"

I nod.

"You found out?" His rough, thick voice sent unwanted shivers down my spine. I shouldn't want a married man as much as I do. It was wrong, but he was my mate, the feelings were apt.

I felt the tears again. Licking my lips, I barely respond, "Yeah," I murmur.

For a minute, we are silent. Nothing but his heavy breathing and my muffled sniffles fill the cold room.

"Why are you even here?" I snarl coldly, turning away from me. "You should go to your wife, leave me alone."

"Wife?" His voice growled. "What the fuck are you going on about, Sativa?"

"Natalya," I whispered, burrowing my eyes shut as I waited for his slain answer.

"You really are this idiotic," his snarl echoed the room. "I am not married to Natalya."

"Yes, you are," I mutter.

"Bloody hell, she is my sister," he spat, his green eyes narrowed right at me.

-

© V.L Khan