Boundaries

Conor: fessing up

{Conor}

The mostly fresh air was lovely, even if it didn't smell quite like Montana. Ralph had some difficulty on the path, the gravel making his wheelchair slid around. I ended up pushing, but even so, it was nice to be outside with Ralph. I could tell in the daylight that he was losing weight, and I tried to keep my voice and face looking happy even though I didn't feel that way.

Amy showed Ralph better techniques for getting in and out of the car, which after Ralph practiced a couple times, we were ready for lunch.

"What are we feeling?" Ralph inquired, looking up at me.

"Whatever you'd like," I told him.

"There's an excellent Italian restaurant around the corner, they make their own pasta," Frank suggested. "I seem to remember that Conor doesn't like Chinese food."

I looked around, feeling a shiver down my spine. I wondered if Stefa was still around, and hoped that she wasn't. I didn't like the idea that she was watching me, watching that Ralph was in a wheelchair and couldn't stop her if he wanted to.

"Everything all right?" Ralph inquired.

He was already in the car. I gave him a smile and folded the wheelchair.

"Just thinking," I said. "Pasta is good with me."

Frank frowned as we opened the trunk. "You've been strange all day," he mentioned. "What's going on?"

"Stefa knew that I was here," I pointed out. "She knew and followed me to the restaurant that we were eating. And she's done some...insane things to win me back before. So being out worries me a little. I'll be happy when we're back in Montana."

He looked around the park. "She's not going to pop out of a bush and steal you away.  Come on."

Of course, Frank didn't know Stefa like I did, but it was nice to hear all the same. I hopped into the car, and we headed off to this Italian restaurant.

But it was hard to keep focused on the conversation. I worried about Tish; I worried about Stefa. I wished that my life was less complicated and that we'd be home soon. At home, I felt that I could have time to gather my thoughts.

"You're barely eating; I know that something is wrong," Ralph said, snapping me back to the conversation. "Did something happen this morning?"

"I got into a fight with some hunters," I admitted. "And Tish wasn't there. It's just been a weird day, Ralph."

"Hold up, like a fight with fists?" Frank inquired. "Are you all right? Did they jump you?"

"A couple of bruises, I'm fine. It was in the cafeteria, and I shouldn't have gone without Tish."

"Okay, that's not an excuse for them," Frank objected. "They've almost killed you once, Conor. You need to tell Ralph or Grant or someone. Gayle would have my guts for garters if you ended up dead."

"I can just shift," I pointed out.

"These people have killed werewolves before, Conor," Ralph told me. "You're not invincible. When we get back, we have to tell someone."

"So the hunters can get into trouble, and another group resents me?" I questioned. "I'll stay out of their way; it's easier."

"Not always practical," Frank remarked. "Ralph is right."

I grumbled but accepted that I didn't have a say in the matter. Ralph paid, and we were headed back to headquarters in no time. I took in Chicago, hoping we would get out more if we were going to be here for much longer. I missed Stefa, a little bit. Or maybe, I missed the times we had in Chicago, shopping, eating. Being a regular couple together. I didn't miss the drama.