Second chances [Complete, 18+]

CHAPTER XX

CHAPTER XX

The rain had plastered his hair against his face and his shoes squelched when he shifted his weight. The wolves hadn't returned, at least not within the realm within which he could sense but he couldn't help but continue to peer into the darkness. Pacing along the garden border, where his feet had worn it into a muddy quagmire, he was pleased to once again note that no scents had changed.

He'd felt foolish when he'd first marked his scent that first night but anything to help ward off any unwanted interest was welcome. However, it might have done the opposite and attracted attention instead. The thought was beyond sobering and he clenched his hands into fists, angry at himself for putting his family in harm's way; even with best intentions.

He tensed as the back door opened. Don't build up your hopes idiot, he berated himself. Sniffing the air his frown broke as Dylan's scent came ever closer. He was debating how to respond when little fingers threaded between his own. Glancing down at the little man, his heart seemed to swell in his chest. He was his! The little man was looking up at him with massive eyes that sucked him in. Barefoot and dressed in only a Power Rangers outfit, Dylan was starting to shiver. She's going to kill me. Please don't get ill, he pleaded silently. At least it had stopped raining for the moment. Lifting him up whilst being careful to hold him away from his soaked body, he grinned in answer to Dylan's.

"Can you keep a secret?" He whispered which was met with an eager nod. "Alright, hang tight."

Making sure no-one was watching he winked down at his son before making two leaps to land at the back door. Dylan's eyes were bright with astonishment and joy – much better than his scared one that had originally greeted him. The look made him feel a hundred feet tall.

"Again, again dada!" He chuckled and promised he would when it was drier, hoping that his mate would let him keep it.

Lowering him down, back – safe and warm – indoors, he was about to fall back when hands clutched at his own. The action was backed up with the biggest pleading eyes that he definitely inherited from his mother. He couldn't say no. They were lethal to him. Nate struggled to think of how to phrase that he shouldn't just enter without his mates approval. He didn't want to get on her bad side, even more than he already was. Besides, he was soaked, he didn't want to damage anything. But his words of defeat got lost in his throat.

"Dada-"

"Shush kiddo, we don't want to wake mummy, she's mad at me at the moment. We need to be really quiet." Dylan nodded, placing his finger against his lips in agreement.

Slipping off his muddy shoes, discarding his socks also, he placed them neatly together against the wall. With one glance behind him, the heaven's opened yet again and the rhythmic noise was only slightly dampened with the closing of the door. Sweeping Dylan up again into his arms, he crept into the kitchen, making Dylan soar through the air. Sitting him on the countertop, he tested the temperature of the kitchen tap, before gently washing Dylan's muddied feet. Dylan yawned, leaning against him for support, as he rubbed his eyes.

"All clean again," Nate muttered, shutting off the flow before picking him up again and slipping upstairs carefully. "We have to be sneaky remember. Okay?"

Dylan nodded his head but his eyes widened when a little giggle escaped. Nate faked being mad but the guilty look persevered as they paused on the landing. He let him sweat for a second longer, comically holding up a leg in a frozen posture. Glancing down at Dylan, he almost spoiled it by bursting out in laughter as Dylan's tiny hand was covering his mouth in attrition. Swiping a hand across his forehead in exaggerated relief as the door to the master bedroom remained shut. He could hear her breathing and the scent swirled around the house, a heady scent to say the least. It was the closest he had been to his slumbering mate and his son was the only thing that stopped him from crawling to her and begging forgiveness.

Following the lingering scent to Dylan's room, he peered once more unto the landing, before closing the door softly behind him. Despite doing his best, Dylan's clothes had still gotten wet and muddied so was in need of a change. Surveying the room, he tried to think of where his other pyjamas would be.

"Help me out buddy, where are your other jimjams. You'll get a cold if you go back to sleep in these snazzy ones."

He couldn't help but return the grin that split through Dylan's yawn. Following Dylan's pointed finger, he headed towards the dark grey painted chest of drawers. The top drawer was filled with underwear and stripy socks, the second was more successful and he snagged out a woolly set.

"Arm's up kiddo," he whispered but he soon realised that Dylan had become doll rag sleepy against him. Snagging the wet top over his head however proved difficult as it kept on getting stuck. Eventually he was successful in redressing Dylan and he was glad to see that Dylan's lip had stopped quivering. Depositing Dylan into the recently vacated bed, he watched as Dylan rolled onto his side and tucked his knees up to his chest. Bringing the quilt cover up over his frame, he was building up the strength to leave when Dylan's hand once again clutched onto his hand.

"Stay dada, I'm scared of the rain." His little voice, quietened by his fear, ended any decision about leaving. He wasn't going anywhere.

"Alright kiddo but I have to leave before mummy finds me in the morning." He would stay the night and slip out to avoid confrontation, in a hope to rebuild his mates trust, not dash it once more.

Surveying the lightly coloured carpet, he once again thought about the potential damage from his drenched clothes and so he tried to shimmy out of his jacket.

"Hey kiddo, can I have my hand for a minute whilst I get rid of these wet clothes," he whispered brushing hair out of his yawning kid's eyes. Stubbornness caught in his eyes and he urged Dylan to count with him which he eventually agreed to.

"One-One-Two-Two-Two-Three", Nate raised his eyebrows and the little tyke released him reluctantly. "Three-Four-Four..."

Dylan repeated the numbers back to him and watched - eyes wide - as Nate quickly shed his soaked jeans, jacket and thermal top. The water and mud combination made them unusually heavy and he was careful to avoid any extra splashes. Shoving them into an empty plastic bag, he skidded back to the bed, hopping as he stood on a toy figurine.

"Record time, only fourteen seconds," he whispered as he settled on the floor near the bed head. Proffering his hand towards his son, who rapidly grabbed hold. His tiny hand seemed so fragile against his and the urge to protect him grew. He couldn't remember his own father holding his hand and he resolved to be there as much as Eva would allow. He hoped he would be a good father, at least he knew what a bad father was like - hopefully he could learn from the mistakes and not repeat them. Squeezing gently, he received a sleepy smile in response as Dylan's eyes closed with last words asking him to stay. It wasn't long before Dylan's breath evened out into a peaceful slumber. Resting his chin on the edge of the bed he committed to memory every dimple and hair on his son's head. The repetitiveness of his chest rising and falling, lulled him under too. The last thought that ran through his mind bled into his dreams – how many nights like these had he already missed?