Boundaries

Tish: scarring

{Tish}

I stretched my toes out straight and fluttered my eyes open. I was lying next to Conor in my own bed, still in my bloody clothes from before. Everything hurt. The places silver had splashed me were covered in burn marks. I wondered what my face looked like.

"Hey," I said, looking up at Conor.

"How do you feel?" he asked me.

"Like a mess," I admitted. "Did someone splint my hand?"

"I can help you get it off so you can shift," he offered, scooting off the bed.

Gently, he unwrapped my hand, which was swollen and bruised. I made the mistake of trying to stretch out my fingers and immediately tensed with pain. I had broken my hand into bits to get it through the cuff. Conor had to help me out of my clothes since I couldn't use my hand and the other was torn when I pulled out the catheter. I wasn't sure if I could shift on my own volition, but recalling how being a wolf felt was easier when being human was painful. My bones cracked and lengthened and I shook my fur before rolling over and bounding on my bed. Conor smiled and sat next to me.

"You're a beautiful wolf," he told me and then shook his head. "Not that you're not a beautiful woman, I didn't mean it like that."

I laughed, which came out like a bark and shook my fur at him. I still had to shift back. Conor cracked an eyebrow at me.

"You've got this," he said. "I'm not going to help you."

I sat down on my haunches and took a deep breath, willing my body to shift back into my human form. It took a moment, but I finally felt the stretch of my body, the receding of my fur and it was cold once more as a naked human. My hand was whole again but ached when I moved my fingers. Conor rose from the bed.

"You should shower," he said. "I'll just be next door."

I almost asked him to stay, but he glided out the door before I could. I selected some clean clothes, tossed them on my bed and went into my bathroom, glad for hot water until it hit my burn marks, the water making my face and arms raw. I bit down a scream and continued getting the blood off my body, marveling at how my hands were uncut and fingers whole again. How could it be that I was nearly healed and Ralph still couldn't walk?

The bathroom was too steamy to see my own reflection, so I toweled off and dressed, walking across the hallway and knocking on the door. Conor opened it immediately. It looked like he taken the opportunity to also take a shower. His short brown hair stuck at all angles.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"My burns hurt," I replied. "I'm going to use your mirror for a second."

I walked past him to the bathroom, but Conor took my hand in his, spun me back around, and pulled me into a hug. The gesture surprised me, but it was welcome. Conor was so warm and this day had been terribly long.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "I should have known something was wrong when you went missing."

"Well, it turned out I didn't need your rescue," I smiled. "I'm not a damsel in distress."

"No, you are not," he agreed. "Should we get some lunch? I'm sure you're starving."

"Lunch?" I questioned.

"You slept the rest of yesterday away," he told me. "You haven't missed much I promise."

"Just give me a second to comb my hair down, and we'll go."

Conor released me reluctantly, and I headed into his bathroom. It wasn't quite as foggy as mine, but I still had to wipe the mirror to see my reflection. Conor came in a moment later.