The Many Regrets of a Cyborg Werewolf

That Means A Lot - XXII

"Thanks, Eddie," Jim relaxed as he breathed a sigh of relief into the phone, "I appreciate this, and I definitely owe you one. Talk to you soon, bye." He hung the phone back up as his shoulders dropped. He ran his hands over his face as he turned towards the table where Erin, Monica, and Mercer sat. Mahi was happily working away in the kitchen while Luke leaned against the door frame, looking past them all and through the window to the bright white outside.

"So what's up?" Erin asked as she watched him take a seat. She held one of Monica's hands, whilst the other gripped a glass of liquor.

"He'll help," Jim sighed, "he's on the other end of the city right now, but he'll be back the day after tomorrow. He absolutely thinks I'm insane, though." Jim grabbed the bottle of vodka and poured himself a glass. "God knows I just might be."

"A werewolf..." Monica uttered again in disbelief as she stared at the table. "Kyle... was killed... by a werewolf."

"A fake werewolf," Erin specified, feeling a tightness in her chest just thinking about it. Her voice was slightly hoarse from how much she spoke, "but yeah, that's how it happened."

"What made it a fake?" Jim asked as he took a sip.

"It was made in a lab," Luke explained. "A human being altered, willingly, into a monster."

"But you're real?" Monica asked him, visible concern on her face.

"I am," he replied.

"Luke is actually the one who saved my life," Erin added. "He was there the night it happened."

"And that's how you got caught up in all this?" Jim asked. Erin nodded. He let out a low whistle as he took another, longer sip. "So the things on the news are real."

"Far too real," Mercer added, "but it's what we're working towards defeating."

"Aren't the police handling it?" Monica asked, "with the help of that company? Something Biotics?" Luke let out a loud and hearty laugh as everyone jumped, his complete lack of consideration earning a frustrated glare from Erin.

"The details are... complicated," Mercer said, ignoring his outburst. "Simply put, the police will be no help. They are as much in the dark as you were mere hours ago."

"But we have a chance to fight back," Erin explained. "Our enemy wants something, something important, but they don't have it yet. We have a chance to get it first and ruin their plan."

"And it's in Alaska?" Monica asked. Mercer and Erin both nodded. Her mother seemed lost in her thoughts a moment, staring into her glass, only to let go and embrace Erin's hand with both of hers. "I'm so sorry, baby. I can't imagine how you feel." Erin felt herself choke a bit. Her mother was talking about Kyle. Erin felt emotions she couldn't describe. Grief, anger, and sadness all poured, and though she had been doing well keeping them in check, something about being in the presence of her mother made it feel all the more closer. Like she was finally safe to cry, rather than being ashamed of the weakness it implied, and Erin had to wipe tears that suddenly formed in her eyes.

"I'm alright," she assured her mother. Despite the tears she didn't weep, though she noticed her mother's eyes welling up as well. "Kyle died protecting me. I won't stop until he and everyone else these monsters have hurt gets justice."

"What about you, Mercer?" Jim glanced at the doctor, who seemed caught off guard. Her father reached to the counter behind him, fetching another glass, and poured a bit of vodka in it before sliding it towards Mercer. "I know when a man is hiding his pain."

"My losses account for little," Mercer accepted the glass with a gracious nod. "Truth be told I didn't have much to lose, but if my pain is even but a fraction of others, I can't imagine what the true victims in all this are feeling." He took a sip before placing the glass onto a coaster. "Nor can I tolerate it."