Kierra

I can smell the soap on Bastion's skin, it's mixing with Faline's from the clothes, bringing my thoughts back around to her and what happened earlier, drawing a scowl to my face. Hard to stay on track when Asher's scent also finds me, smelling of woods and sweet pine, the burn low in my belly making itself known once more. I can feel my brows drawing closer together before I just get up. The sudden movement startling the black wolf into jumping back from where he was sitting.

I pause for a second but continue on. The kitchen's an open area, connecting directly to the dining room then the living room just feet away. No wall separating the sections, just the difference in floor texture. Wood for dining and living room, linoleum for kitchen, and the long island counter.

When coming into the house from the front door, you come in on the living room side, but just a step over has you in the dining area. Straight ahead is the hallway that leads to the bathroom, bedrooms, and backdoor. The first door on the right leads to the bathroom, sister's room right next to it, my room across the hall. The door at the end of the hall is, of course, the way to the back porch.

We even have a basement, the door leading down to it's in the corner of the kitchen. A large corner of it is being used as a storage area while the rest is being converted into another small room. The water heater and some pipes that lead to who knows where right under the stairs.

I pace from the front door to the hallway and back, bare feet silent as my hand rubs at the scars over my left shoulder subconsciously. Putting things in order in my head and making a list of things I need to do, the main big thing being finding my sister and bringing her home safe. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bastion, watching me while he nibbles at some bread.

Lifting my head to find Asher, my heart flutters at the thought of him being gone as it takes me a moment to find him. He had settled next to the couch, laying down as he watches me pace, his head resting on his outstretched paws. I stop and bite my lip as I look from the wolf to the boy.

As if trying to find my sister wasn't daunting enough, I now have a child I have to do something with. My arms drop back to my sides, then slip into my pockets as I fidget nervously.

"Um, Bastion? Do you have anyone I can take you to? A family member? Family friend?"

My voice is steady, even as I feel like I'm about to go nuts, trying not to sound harsh or that I'm trying to pawn him off. Having been in his spot before, I know the feeling of being tossed around from place to place, feeling that no one cared. My eyes meet his steadily, leaving it up to him to choose what he wants. My heart pounds as he shakes his head.

"No one I know. It was just me and mom before he came into the picture. I don't know if he had any family."

I can hear the distaste in his voice.

"He and my mom had been dating a few months when she died in a car crash. I've been with him ever since."

I nod absently, looking over his form. With his size and being underweight, it's impossible to tell his age. His build thin, almost tiny, bird-like.

"I know it's a real late question, but how old are you?"

His head tilts as he looks at me, blue eyes going wary, knuckles turning white as he grips the back of the chair.

"I'm twelve. I know I look younger, he was always saying that I looked like an 'eternal child', that he would get a very good price for me if he could only give me up."

Tears form in his eyes as he looks back at his memories, but he's determined not to let them fall, blinking hurriedly. I step closer to him slowly, taking my hands from my pockets and holding them in front of me, palms up. His body is shaking as I step up, lowering myself to my knees in front of him. I don't touch him, staying a good foot away, laying my hands flat against my thighs, green eyes hold his blue ones.

"I know how you're feeling. My childhood was much like yours. Being sold or bought never came up, but the abuse was still there. The confusion heralding the degradation and shame that only gets worse as time goes on, the hopelessness that overtakes us when we can't fight back."

I have to stop and take a deep breath, closing my eyes as I battle back old demons and nightmares of pain. Even with the knowledge that his tormentor and mine both are dead, that I myself had killed them, the fear is still there. More than likely always will be. I open my eyes and look back to him, the burn and tickle of a tear escapes and makes its way down my face.

Bastion's eyes are swimming with his own as he reaches to catch the bead along my cheek. His feet drop to the floor as he stands and takes that last step. Wrapping his arms around me, hiding his falling tears in my hair. My own go around him loosely so he doesn't feel trapped. I can feel Asher's warmth at my back, his scent once again tickling my nose.

Stepping back, he releases me, arms falling away at the same time. I smile shakily at him as I reach forward and carefully wipe the wet tracks from his face. Feeling his wince, but also his will to not be ruled by feelings that can't be controlled. Blowing out a breath, my hands rest once more on my thighs, clearing my throat before I speak once more.

"I know I'm not the person you need, and I leave it to you on what you want to do with your life now, I will help anywhere I can. For now, I ask that you stay here till I can find my sister, then I can give you all my attention to what you need."

I feel myself stumbling on my words, feeling that I'm not conveying things right. I know he needs to talk to someone, someone who actually knows a little more about what to do than I do. Also know that he needs someone's full attention for his care and well being. Being able to help in some areas does not mean I can help in all of them, but I'm hoping it will be enough for now.

"If you really want, I can take you to the hospital, but I'd need you to promise me that you won't speak of me or what happened at the house and everything after that to this point."

He looks almost panicked for a moment before he gets control of his 'Everyone Face'. The face all those with our type of pasts learn. The face we wear when we don't or can't let anyone around us know how we're really feeling.

A type of cloak for protection. It's not that we're stone, not that we don't care, it's just to protect us from what others may say or do.

"I want to stay with you. You're the one who saved me, who freed me. Maybe sometime later I might want to go somewhere else, but right now I want to stay here."

His voice is soft but strong, full of conviction. My heart swells with emotion and thunders in fear that I could do more harm than good. Thanks to the officials I had to talk to when I was young, what they put me and my family through as well as what all they royally fucked up, I feel that I can 'possibly' do better for him. Maybe not screw his head five ways to Sunday at least.

One thing I have to worry about and keep an eye out for is the hero worship from being the one who saved him. That can go bad in so many ways. Asher noses me in the side, a hand buries in his neck scruff as a smile forms on my face.

"Mkay, that's one thing sort of figured out. Asher, I had asked you before if you were like me, and you said it was a long story. I think now is perfect storytelling time... After I get off the floor."

I stand, rather easily. A little shock goes through me that my knees aren't protesting and popping.

Spiffy.

I head to the L shaped couch that faces away from the kitchen and toward the T.V. in the corner. I curl up in the middle, legs folding under me as I wave the boys over. Bastion sits on my left side as Asher lays in front of us on the floor, facing me. I look from the wolf to the boy, a small frown forming.

"Alright, so things are going to get a wee confusing for Bastion here only hearing one side of the conversation."

I fold my hands in my lap as the wolf speaks in my head.

"Not really, I can project easily to multiple people if those I'm talking to are near me. I would have mentioned something sooner, it just never came up."

I hear the amusement in his voice, even catch Bastion's lip twitching. So clearly he indeed is projecting to both of us. Would have been nice to know sooner, but whatever. I flatten my lips together in annoyance, but can't totally hide the satisfaction that Bastion is trying.

"I was married once, over 20 years ago. We had lived in that burned house near here. She died in that fire, and no one even knows it happened. No authorities ever came, never put the fire out. What did put it out was a blowout of magic that was being used to curse me. I was already a Werewolf when this all took place."

He pauses a moment, shifting his legs under him. The thought of his wife must still pain him, but how do you comfort someone who's gone through what he has? I'm not really good at the whole touchy-feely stuff. I slip my hand under my pant leg and hold my ankle as he continues.

"The Werewolf I survived had happened just before my eighteenth birthday. I was cursed when I was twenty-seven, and that was twenty-five years ago."

I raise my eyebrows as I look him over. Granted there's no possible way to tell his age, but he doesn't... Feel...that old. Didn't move like an old man either. He watches me, knowing my perusal over him shows my skepticism.

"Once you're bitten by a Were, you stop aging. You reach a static stage if you're younger, if older it softens or totally takes away the passage of time on the body. You'll still look older up to a point, but a very fit older. So even though I was bitten when 18, I stopped the visual aging process by the time I hit my thirties. My prime."

I nod as it all goes through my head. Werewolves are immortal? How does that work? I try not to think too much into it, but it becomes a nagging in my brain. The grip I have on my ankle tightens as he looks me over.

"You'll probably stop aging as you are now. It's different for females due to the whole peak age for breeding. Werewolves can and do mate, but it's rare for offspring due to the extended lifespan. A natural way of keeping numbers in check, hence why not everyone survives a bite. When I had bitten you, it was hopefully so you could start the changing process, so you could survive your encounter, but now that I'm getting to know you in person instead of what I observe, I have a feeling you would have survived without my help."

This conversation has gone way over what I ever dreamed I'd hear.

So not only am I immortal, but I probably won't ever have kids. That thought actually doesn't bother me too much, small me's running around is enough to give anyone nightmares, let alone what they'd get from their sperm donor. Legs shift under me, switching the direction that I had them folded.

His compliment about me surviving without his aid is a little daunting. He may think I would have survived, I, on the other hand, do not. Not only had there been a huge amount of blood loss, but the being drugged for the three days without medical attention, or any attention for that matter, would have killed anyone. I would think so anyway, yet here I am.

The strain he's talking about must have struck immediately, changing me almost from the moment I was ripped into, or even before that when he himself had bitten me. The thought of getting 'ripped into' makes me shiver. Definitely nightmare material. Just toss it in with all the others. My eyes had strayed while he paused, but go right back to him when he continues, his tail flicking behind him.