When I woke up later that night it was filled with all sorts of sounds... But there was something else besides the constant sounds of the hospital and the traffic. The city outside the window seemed to be calling to me... I heard the yelling of two drunkards and then heard their fists land. I heard the murmurs of a couple walking on the night street and heard a dog bark in one of the many houses. Someone's television loudly updated them on my testimony about the bestial wolf. Someone was playing a pleasantly slow, sensual song on a violin. I couldn't fall asleep, I longed to run away from this stupid hospital, run to my home, to the station, to the forest...

And so after a week in the hospital, I finally argued my right to go home. “They shouldn't have let you go yet,” my father mumbled as he drove me home from the hospital. “It has only been a week and you look horrible.”

“I'm fine, dad. I appreciate you driving me home, but I'm fine,” I cut into my father's protests and stepped out of his jeep.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with you?” he asked, his voice suggesting he didn’t believe one bit I could take care of myself.

“I’m fine dad, really,” I quickly said my goodbyes and walked stiffly to the two-story house that was my home.

As soon as I stepped in a huge wave of relief washed over me. At least that was what I was hoping would happen. Well, it didn't... I got even more agitated as if I couldn't breathe in the cramped space of the house... I never found my house small. The rarely-used kitchen and the even-less-used dining room were separated from the small living room by the stairs. On the second floor were two rooms and two bathrooms. One room was empty and more or less unused. I would offer my father to stay there instead of a hotel, but I didn't want to give him the feeling that I needed him. He liked to take control of everything and everyone around.

I made a proper sandwich with a mountain of ham, trimmed my hair to an acceptable length, shaved my stubble, and then went to bed, at least it was more comfortable than the one in the hospital…

The night was filled with terrible nightmares and me constantly shifting around and sweating like crazy. The images of the white demon watching me quietly from afar would not leave my mind. When the doorbell woke me up in the morning I felt like I didn’t sleep at all. With heavy legs and dull ache in every inch of my body, I went downstairs to open the door.

It was father and judging by his expression I looked more than unpresentable. “Are you running a fever? Did you sleep at all? I knew I should have stayed with you,” he nagged as he pushed his way inside the house without waiting for an invitation. He continued straight into the kitchen as if this was his house.

I sighed wearily and closed the door. “I can take care of myself thank you very much. I’m twenty-seven years old. I don’t need you to be---” I couldn’t finish since someone knocked on the door. Feeling my frustration built up I opened it. It was no one else other than Simon. Great.

“Damn, you look terrible. Have you been running through the forest the whole night?” he asked and I gave him an unimpressed look.

“Simon, come on in boy, I’m making pancakes,” father said, already making a ruckus in the kitchen.

“Great, thanks, Mr. Cross!” Simon said excitedly and walked right in. I pushed down on my irritation and leaving them to it I went to wash up a bit, then sat down by the table watching father take control of the house. He complained about the state of my furniture and about the rather dull state of my fridge. I stopped listening to him after about five minutes.

“I think we scared the wolf for good,” Simon said, his mouth full of pancakes. “Damn, these are really good Mr. Cross.” He smiled at my father.

“Perhaps tell that to my son, who seems to be thinking they are poisoned.” Father frowned at me as I dug through the food without taking a single bite.

“I’m just not hungry, I’ll eat them later,” I told him very well aware he wouldn’t like the idea.

“No you’ll eat them now, you need your strength to heal and get back to work,” he ordered, obviously fully expecting me to obey. And to be honest, I caught myself raising the fork to my mouth, but I forced myself to put it down. I really wasn’t hungry. Father glared at me.

“I’m twenty-seven, I think I’m old enough to decide when I eat,” I said, pushing the plate away so I wouldn’t give in to his orders so easily.

Father glared at me for a bit longer, before Simon cleared his throat. “Well as I was saying… I think we scared the wolf away. There haven’t been any deaths in the last week. So maybe he moved away from here,” Simon suggested.

“You shot it didn’t you? Maybe it died,” father said, then crossed his arms over his chest, frowning at me. “Though I do not understand how you managed, after years in the army and on the force, to miss a vital spot when it was close enough to bite you.” He shook his head.

I clenched my hands into fists under the table, feeling anger settle in my chest. There it was again. That tone… The one that said: Could you possibly be any more useless? The one I was used to hearing my whole childhood.

“W-we were a bit drunk,” Simon tried to defend me, a peal of nervous laughter coming out of him since he knew how to read me and probably saw the anger. It was the wrong thing to say though… Father didn’t approve of alcohol.

“Tsk, you have people dying in your city and your response is going for a drink?” he said, his voice full of judgment. He didn’t even try to hide it. This time even Simon found himself under his intense gaze and practically curled himself into a ball. I felt my muscles tense, I did my best to breathe slowly to chase away the anger that seemed to build up and up. What did he know? Was he there? No. So what right did he have to judge? We’ve spent days without sleep tracking the damn animal. It was our first day off. We were very much allowed to go for a drink. All the words itched in the back of my throat, but I knew it would be useless to argue. Father would’ve found it in one day and killed it from five thousand miles away with a precise shot between the eyes because he was perfect and everyone else was stupid and useless. I felt cramps build up in my stomach for some reason, my muscles seemed to be flexing on their own.

“How can you even call yourselves---” His phone rang before he could finish it. He picked it up. Thank fucking god, I ground my teeth, exhaling slowly. I would’ve probably hit him if he finished it. Which… wasn’t like me actually. Not at all. I was more used to just letting him talk and bearing through it.

“Well, it seems I have to leave. Andrew, eat and get some sleep. If you are well enough to be let out of the hospital you are well enough to go back to work. You have a duty towards this city,” father ordered and left, not even saying goodbye.

“Jesus,” Simon exhaled in relief, shuddering. “He can be kinda intense…”

“Tell me about it…” I sighed and rubbed my temples, the anger slowly disappearing, though my muscles seemed to burn. Later when Simon left I ate the damn pancakes and went to sleep.