His Mate

Do Not Go Gentle

'Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage into the dying of the light.'

Blake didn't come back last night. I had to find all the blankets I could and use as little fire wood as possible. But it was still to cold to sleep, better yet function. The whole cabin ran on a generator that seemed to be out in the garage but the only problem that seemed to come with that was the whole garage door was frozen over, like people hadn't been here in here in years. 

So I sat, in the cold darkness. Sometime around midnight I had ran out of fire wood. At that point I stuck my head out a window that I had managed to open and yelled out for Blake. 

I was only met with laughter and a cold voice telling me to come out and play. 

I stayed in for the rest of the night.

*********

Two days.

He came around last night, I saw his paw prints in the freshly fallen snow this morning when I had managed enough courage to go outside. That and the voices telling me I needed fresh air and like the stupid person I am I listened.

So here I am, following his paw prints in hopes of coming into contact with him. 

It doesn't work. All day following them and nothing, it was just a big ass circle.

I gathered enough wood for the night and traveled back into the little cabin before night fall. I know those things have attacked me before in day light and every myth I ever read was about the creatures in night, now I have no clue whats true or not. 

Werewolf's aren't suppose to be real, but look where I am now. In a little cabin waiting for one to get back so he can protect me from the creatures of the night.

Day four and still no stupid smirking asshat, that dragged me to the middle of nowhere. I'm out of food and almost out of water. 

But the voices from out side keep getting louder and louder telling me to come out and see what they have done.

And for once....I'm afraid.

I went out.

I can't really remember what happen last. There was light snowfall, the full moon shinning above the tall trees, laughter echoing around me as I walked. The cold snow melting into my boots, the Light fabric of the sweater I brought clinging to my frame. Red and green visions snapping from tree to tree. whispers, not like the laughter filled ones, telling me to go back.

And for once they sounded afraid too.

Then everything blurred around me.

I woke up to Blake's groans and complains from the bathroom. 

And I had to check on him. Because despite the fact he had left me for four days...he was back.

The smell of anapestic and  blood filtered through the cracked open door before I pushed it all the in. A blooded wash ragged sat in the sink another one in Blake's hand as he stared at his back in the mirror. 

Deep gashes ran down his back, arms and some even on his thighs. 

"W-what happen?" His eyes connected with mine before snapping back to doing what he was already doing. "Blake?"

My voice was soft, tired. But he never answered.

Instead I found myself helping. Cleaning his hard to react scratches on his back as he cleaned them on his torso.

His growls and Groans still filled the air, his skin twitching every time the rag would connect with his skin but would settle when my skin touched his. 

Some were deep, others already healing themselves. 

It was different to see then heal faster then normal. The skin come together and seemingly stitch itself back together. 

Blake seemed to have enough of my staring and walked away back into the room. I followed, sitting on the bed, bring my knees up to my chest. "Maybe you should let them breathe." My voice was still soft, the roughness from my injury long gone.

He didn't reply, still trying to shove his arms through the holes, ripping open the gashes even more. "Blake?"

"WHAT! Faith. What could you possible want now? Food? Friends? Your old life back before you tried to kill yourself, twice?" I started wide eyed and mouth gaping at him. Trickles of blood running down his torso and probably his back also. "Do you think I wanted to bring you into all of this?" his voice grew louder as i just shrink back into the pillows of the bed. 

"How do I know what you wanted. It seems to me that you make all the choices here." I couldn't help the little tears that flooded my vision.

He snorted and shook his at me, pointing at himself. "I make all the choices so," his index finger pointed at me then.  "you don't die." He hissed out the last part almost like it pained him to say the words.

I looked him straight in the eyes, a lone tear trickling down my flushed cheeks. "Who says that would be a bad thing? I'm stuck with you," My eyes narrowed at his frame standing in the middle of the room. "A guy I don't even know, that had me get rid of my child, just because some bloodsucking monsters are after us." I stood from the bed and walked closer to him, questions burning in my head. "Can I ever go back home? Have a life? Have a family?"

His resolve seemed to be slipping, the glare he had fixed on my face lighten up, his lips parting slightly. "You don't want a family with them after you." He all but whispered out, his eyes darting away from my face. 

"No?" None. No children of my own? "No? No kids of my own. No happy life filled with laughter, memories of little me's and the man I fell in love with's children running around our freshly mowed yard as we have a friendly get together to celebrate his promotion? None of that?" He avoided my eyes even more and shook his head. More tears streaming down my face. "Then how does this end? With the both of us dead? You killing all of them? How?" He shook his head again, but that wasn't good enough for me I wanted answers. "How Blake?" He stepped back from me. "How Blake! How does this end."

My hands connected with his chest as more tears streamed down my face. Once again my fist hit his chest, but he seemed to have enough of it. His hands shot out and grabbed a hold of mine, his eyes making contact with with mine. "I don't know, Faith." He growled out.

One of his hands with through my tangled hair. "I don't know how any of this will end, but I do know you will not die with me. You will get the family you want. You will get to see little you's running around, and you will get those happy memories, I promise."

'Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.'