Boundaries

Conor: decent people

{Conor}

"You know, this is much easier, that I expected," Ralph told me as he wheeled down the hallway. He managed to turn and then stop to give me a smile. "Don't frown so, I can run over your toes now."

I turned the corners of my mouth up, and Ralph seemed content. The wheelchair was nice, at least as far as I could tell. He was wearing new gloves that protected his hands from the wheels as well as stabilized his numb fingers. He had been reluctant to share that information, but of course, the doctors couldn't help him with anything that we didn't know about. He could use them well enough, but he had much less feeling. I worried that would translate to his wolf form which would have an almost impossible task of walking. But since no one else was worried, I kept it to myself.

"I wouldn't go peeling through the corridors," Frank remarked. "The hunters will get antsy. But we'll schedule time for you to head out to the smoking patio, get some sun. Hardly anyone smokes nowadays."

"That's good because my nose is sensitive," Ralph told him seriously. He turned once more and sighed. "It's good to be mobile. Makes me feel like I can, I don't know. Be my own person."

"Conor, they're here for your blood," called one of Frank's assistants.

"They'll have to wait," I told him.

Ralph looked like he was going to argue with me, but the smile left my face immediately. I didn't let the hunters entertain the idea that I would leave Ralph for any reason. Not for a minute. Not just around the corner. Nothing. Hunters like to push boundaries.

"We can get back to the room," Ralph offered. "Hop on, I'll roll us back."

I rolled my eyes and we headed back down the hall to the room we had been staying in. Sasha tapped her foot impatiently as I pushed up my sleeve so she could get to my veins. She always smelled like the labs here: like chemicals and cleaner. I wondered what all she did with my blood, but I probably didn't want to know.

"Hello to you too," Ralph remarked, a touch sarcastically since Sasha didn't say anything before applying a tourniquet and stabbing me with a needle.

"I already feel like this is a huge waste of my time, so I'd rather not waste my breath too," she shot back.

"Sasha," Frank admonished. He had followed behind, taking his notes.

"What? Just because you've decided they're decent people, I should just be all chummy?" she questioned. "I know who they are. Shielding Grant from us. Pretending to be all normal and country. Actually being a powerful, influential pack. Peter and you are already infatuated. I don't need to be as well."

"I'm not..." Frank started and sighed. "Nothing I say is going to make you see our side. I'm not infatuated, neither is Peter. We're excited about a pack that doesn't eat people. And I'm sorry that our job has made you so jaded that you've forgotten that werewolves and vampires and whatever else we find out there were human once and are still people."

"To you," she snapped. "They're people to you."

She filled the vials with blood and the moment she was done, released the tourniquet and was out of the room. Frank sighed, watching her go.

"Someday," he said, fetching me a band-aid out of the kit. "Well, maybe never for Sasha. I think she just can't forgive the fact Grant was turned. And Grant, he's a pretty normal person for having just been turned. He shouldn't have to put up with his mother wishing him dead."

"Frank, I know there's a reason we only see you around," Ralph pointed out. "She's not alone in her thinking. Most hunters don't know why you would spare resources to help us. I'm still a little confused by it, but glad for the reprieve of fighting you all the time."