Boundaries

Tish: claustrophobia

{Tish}

Grant and I both had our things packed, and at the front door the moment Peter pulled the car around. Even Conor was running a little behind, but he had packed for both Ralph and himself. Victor had sent me with cream for my burns, and I wondered how they 'd heal. Conor seemed totally unaffected by my appearance, and I found that comforting. The elevator chimed, but instead of Conor and Ralph, we saw Boyd with his own bag. He smiled at us.

"All done?" Grant asked. "How'd training go?"

"I quit," he replied, though he seemed cheerful about it. "They had a simulation we were supposed to shoot on sight, and I couldn't stop thinking that I was shooting at targets without any due process. So I put the gun down, quit, and here we are." He let out a huge sigh. "Maybe I'll be a police officer. Or get out of government and into gardening or something, I don't know. I mean, Gayle's been shot, Sasha is a great big mess, and Peter wants to dismantle this agency from the inside out. I don't think the hunters will exist like they do in a year."

"If you have second thoughts about quitting, you should talk to my father," Grant told him. "I know he's trying to get more hunters to see his side of things. He could use the help."

"It's all your fault, you know," Boyd pointed out. "If I hadn't talked to you, I could have continued thinking that all of your kind were evil. It was simpler."

"Simpler but untrue," I replied.

He grimaced. "I know that now."

The elevator chimed again, and Conor and Ralph finally arrived. Ralph had their bags in his lap. Conor brightened when he saw me.

"Ready?" he asked.

"I've been ready," I told him. "You're the one who took an age to pack."

"Best of luck, Boyd," Grant called as the man moved past our group and into the sunshine.

"I'll need it!" Boyd called back.

We headed out to the carport as a group, Peter had insisted on driving, even though he probably shouldn't have taken the time out of his day. His schedule was attempting to make up for both Gayle and Sasha's absence.

Ralph slid into the front seat, and Conor tucked his wheelchair on top of our luggage before sitting next to me in the back. So far, dating Conor hadn't meant anything different between us. He was not as grossly affectionate as Aidan was with Grant. Conor took my hand in his, and I settled against his shoulder.

"Goodbye, STF," Grant shouted out the window. "Hope to see you never!"

"Was that necessary?" Peter questioned.

"Absolutely," Grant replied, settling back down in his chair.

"You know that I hope you'll come back," Peter told him. "Not soon, but eventually. I want to change this place. I want to make it safe for those who are turned, safe for them to figure out how to navigate the world again."

"You have a long way to go," Ralph observed. "I'm not putting any more of my pack in harm's way."

"Who's picking us up at the airport?" I questioned.

"Mel and Susie. The whole pack wanted to come, that seemed a bit over the top, "Ralph said. "While we're in town, maybe we can get some ice cream to go with the cake."

"You're not supposed to know about the cake," I reminded him.

Conor felt asleep in the time it took to get to the airport. I had to jostle him awake, and he followed me to the trunk, accepting the luggage I handed him. Grant got the wheelchair out and helped Ralph get to the plane.

"Did you not sleep last night?" I asked.

"Car rides make me sleepy," Conor yawned.

I rolled my eyes at him. The little plane had been set up with a ramp for Ralph, but it was steep enough that we had to push him up with us. Conor was awake only long enough to set our bags down and get buckled in and then he fell asleep again. Ralph wasn't even in his seat first.

"He does that," Ralph said, noting my concern. "Though he hasn't been sleeping well since we've been in Chicago. And he still hasn't put all the weight he's lost back on."

"We'll see you around," Peter said, giving his son a hug. "I'll keep you apprised."

"I really don't care what happens there," Grant laughed. "I'm not going back."

Peter looked like wanted to protest, but instead nodded and clasped Grant's shoulder.

"I'll miss you," he said. "Call me anytime, and I'll make an effort not to talk about work, I promise."

"Sure," Grant snorted. "See you, Dad."

Peter passed Grant a small cooler and then extended his hand to Ralph.

"Thank you, sir," Peter said. "I'm sorry that this turned into a nightmare."

"We're all safely bound for home," Ralph told him. "I'm sure we'll hear from you."

Peter nodded and left the plane. A moment later, the cabin was shut. I wished that Conor was awake, but took his hand to hold in mine. I had never had an issue with planes before, but now as a werewolf, I had claustrophobia.

"You all right?" Ralph inquired.

"Don't like planes now," I confessed. "I don't know why."

"The claustrophobia is normal," Ralph assured me. "I never cared before, I think the bigness of Montana skies helps offset it. I can't imagine living in a city full time."

The plane rumbled as it rolled along the runway. Grant put headphones on and closed his eyes. Closing my eyes didn't help me any, so I tried to fix my gaze out the window. Of course, once we got into the air, it was just grey and cloudy and did nothing to help with the feeling that the plane might crumple in and we'd be blown into the sky.

Conor woke up suddenly and looked down at his hand.

"You're going to break my fingers," he remarked, gently taking his hand back and wrapping my shoulders with his arm. I leaned against him, focusing my efforts on breathing slowly. The trip to Chicago I had been so nervous that I couldn't tell what my issue with the flight was.

"Sorry," I murmured.

"You're fine," he told me.

Ralph was grinning at the two of us. When he noticed me watching him, he waggled his eyebrow at me. I groaned.

"I'm allowed to be happy," he said. "I approve of you much more than I ever liked Stefa. And Conor seems happy. You seem happy. It's nice to have something good come out of this trip. Lord knows we need it."

"My mother is behind bars," Grant suggested, with his eyes still closed.

"For now," I countered. "Until the hunters decide she's more useful."

"But she's not passing as human anymore," he insisted, turning to face me. "No one is going to let her run amok like she was."

"You're more optimistic about this than you should be," Conor yawned. "Tish, I'm sorry; I'm just going to fall asleep again."

"Don't be sorry; I'm just jealous," I told him. "I'm just feeling queasy on this plane."

"Do you need a distraction?" he inquired, nuzzling my face with his stubbly cheek.

I giggled. "Conor, what are you doing?"

He unclasped my seat buckle and pulled me into his lap. I flailed a little bit as Ralph laughed at me, but I was wrapped in Conor's arms as he looked like he was about to fall asleep again.

"No, you don't," I laughed, pulling on his ear. "Put me down."

Grant shook his head at the two of us. "You two are going to be intolerable," he snorted.
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Nah, I think Grant is wrong. Tish and Conor will be cute.  I'll need to get my act together and get cracking on the next book; I haven't 100% decided the plot on that one, depends how much time passes between books, I think.
I've been at my new job and I do like it; the hours are wonky and the people odd, but it's waaaaay bettter than where I was.