System of a Wolf - 19. Chapter 19

“Hey Blake, this is Erith. I hope I didn’t scare you off earlier, with all that stuff… It’s been a hard week…”

The elf sighed, leaning against the wall. Three days, and no message, no call back, nothing. This was his last chance. If the mage didn’t reply to this, Erith would just have to accept that he chased off one of his only friends. Again.

“Anyway, I’m sorry if I’m bothering you with all these calls, but I want to make sure you’re okay. I guess… I’ll talk to you when you call back.”

He ended the call, tossing his phone on the couch. All alone. All by himself, just the way he’d always thought he’d be.

No, not alone. He had a group of people living in his mind. He was not alone. And that was a huge problem.

Erith’s eyes travelled up to the bottle of whiskey, sticking out of a cabinet. He was off work, taking a mental health day. He could certainly have a glass. Or three.

‘Oh don’t be so pathetic.’

“What the fuck do you want from me?” Erith snapped. “You sit there, uninvited, burrowed in my head, and you just judge every little thing I do!”

The elf took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Three days of this, three fucking days of trying to figure out these new voices in his head. He was trying. Gods he was trying. Lynn had been out most of the afternoon, until she had decided to take a nap. But Varen still fought Erith tooth and nail. There was no give and take with him. At least Lynn had been easy. Erith was working on setting up time each day for her to play for a bit. It was really not much different than taking care of Blake, or Gara

But this elf was determined to make things hard.

‘We both know what I want.’

Sex. Sex, sex, and more sex. And Erith was not giving that to him. He was not putting himself through that just to make someone else happy. He didn’t understand why Varen didn’t get that. Or Blake for that matter. With everything they had been through, how could they still enjoy sex?

“Fuck this…”

Erith pushed away from the wall, heading toward the kitchen. He paused suddenly, then redirected his steps to the back door.

The pond was finished, just waiting for water. Rocks lined the walls, five rock lined steps leading to the deepest part of the hole. A series of shallow trays sat beside the pond, moss pressed into the mud within them. It was a start to the pond’s ecosystem. He needed to get the water in the hole before he could set them out.

Grabbing a hose, the elf unrolled it, dropping the end into the pond. Turning it on, he grabbed a notebook, plotting out the area around his pond. It would take a while to actually add any fish; he needed to make the environment safe for them first.

It would take several hours to fill the pond, and Erith was not going to sit around through all of that. He checked the back gate, making sure it was locked. It wasn’t just about keeping Gara inside. Having the wolf roam the streets unattended was a horrible idea for them all.

Grabbing his notebook, the elf headed back inside and set a timer for ten hours. It was barely seven at night. Ten hours would be around the time he woke up in the morning. If he even bothered sleeping with the hose running. At the moment, Erith didn’t really know what he was going to do. At least with the hose on, he had one more reason not to drink. That was not a direction he really wanted to go in.

“We’ll pick up some water purifiers in the morning. There’s got to be a few plants that can filter that pond out. Maybe get the waterfall going too, that should help.”

The elf wrote out everything in his notebook, making sure to get everything down. He didn’t want to waste time in the morning.

Erith turned on the TV, pulling up a football game, then turned it off again, letting out a long sigh. Maybe some dinner would help him feel better. But Erith doubted it. This was why he never let himself hope for a relationship. Hope was dangerous. When things went wrong, they just felt so much worse if he let himself hope.

“What do you think Gara? You want an early night?”

‘Oh sure, let the wolf out…’

He ignored Varen, as best as he could. All these intrusive thoughts were making him feel like he was going insane. Maybe he was. And if that was the case, it was too late to stop himself. Best to just accept it.

Stripping his clothes off, Erith carried his phone into the bedroom. He made sure it was loud enough to rouse him in the morning. The last thing he needed was to flood the house.

Gara came out with a grumpy sigh, taking over the wolf body as Erith retreated to recover from the day. He roamed the house curiously, munching on some dinner before laying in front of the back door.

Their head was a mess. No one was happy with each other, and it was wearing Gara out. Things had been so much simpler when Erith didn’t know about Varen and Lynn. Not that this was anyone’s fault. He remembered when Erith had first realized Gara was in his head. There were issues then, and there were going to be issues now.

The wolf just wished things could be figured out faster.

Blake’s phone buzzed in his pocket. The mage was not answering it. An unknown number could be anyone, and he didn’t remember giving his number to anyone. The last thing he wanted was to deal with someone trying to sell him a wolf vaccine or something. Those didn’t exist, and he was tired of people making him think they did.

Or even worse, they would try to talk to him about car things. He didn’t even have a car.

Pulling his paci out of his mouth, the mage headed into the kitchen. He filled his bottle halfway with apple juice and topped it off with cranberry juice, adding in a bit of honey. It was as sweet as Dr. Marin would allow in his apartment. Capping his bottle, Blake tossed it into the air, letting a strand of magic spin it in midair. He wasn’t supposed to do this; the lid could fall off and make a mess. But it was so fun.

The bottle slowly settled onto the counter, contents properly mixed, and Blake collected his drink. He took a sip, grimacing at the bitterness of the cranberries before the apple juice hit. Good enough.

Carrying the bottle back to the living room, Blake froze as the front door opened. His body twisted guiltily as Dr. Marin entered the room.

The older man set a bag down, letting out a long sigh.

“I’m getting too old for all of this,” he said, frowning at Blake. “Blake, what did I tell you about being little when no one can help you?”

“I can stay safe,” the mage pouted.

“It’s not about physical safety Blake. What if something triggers you while you are little and you can’t figure out how to cope with it?” Dr. Marin asked gently.

“You mean like Erith not talking to me?” Blake scowled, staring at his bottle.

Dr. Marin sighed, sitting on the couch. He patted the seat next to him, and Blake sat beside him, leaning in for a hug. It may have just been the man’s arms, but he was going to enjoy what little contact he could get.

“From what you told me, Erith has some issues he needs to work out. It might take some time. You need to decide if you’re going to wait for him or move on. Focus on what you can control, not what you can’t.”

“But what if he never talks to me again?” Blake whimpered.

“Then we will deal with that together. If you are that upset about it, you know where he lives, right?”

The mage shook his head no.

“I can’t remember the street,” he denied. “Or his number. I don’t know how to find him again.”

“I’ll ask around. We’ll figure something out together. Now, mac and cheese or chicken?”

“Mac and cheese please,” Blake said quietly.

Dr. Marin stood up, heading to the kitchen. Blake slipped into his bedroom, grabbing his new colouring book. He’d left the old one for Lynn at Erith’s house. It wasn’t right for her to be stuck with nothing to do but watch TV.

Returning to the living room, the mage frowned at a somewhat garbled voice coming over a phone.

“Hello, we’ve been trying to reach you about your werewolf’s extended warranty-”

Dr. Marin ended the call, scowling at the phone.

“Kids are getting more imaginative with their prank calls these days,” he muttered, turning back to a pot filled with water.

“That’s a prank?” Blake frowned, closing his eyes as he tried to remember the last time someone had said that over the phone.

“Unless the queen made another wolf law without telling anyone,” the older man shrugged.

“Oh. I thought it was because we were wolves,” Blake said. “We don’t need extra insurance?”

“Not that I know of. Just raised prices for the usual stuff,” Dr. Marin said, dumping a box of pasta into the pot. “Why don’t you go ahead and wash up for dinner? It won’t take long to cook.”

Blake dropped his book and pencils in front of the couch before heading to the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, he left, feeling much cleaner after the recent cleaning frenzy.

Dressed in soft pajamas, the mage made his way back to the living room. He helped Dr. Marin set the table, the smell of mac and cheese mixing with cheese covered potatoes. His stomach growled as a plate was set before him.

“Thank you,” Blake murmured, before digging into the food. “Are you okay? You were mad when you got home.”

“I wasn’t mad,” Dr. Marin sighed. “I was just frustrated. They’re trying to ban wolves from taking gym.”

Blake winced.

“That’s a horrible idea. Where are the wolves going to run if they can’t take gym?”

“That was exactly my point. But the higher ups are trying to say that sports are a waste of time and money. So now I have to handle classes filled with wolves who can’t burn off their energy. Some of them live in apartments with their families. The academy is the only place where they are allowed to run, if only for an hour a day. Taking that away is not going to end well, but no one wants to listen to an old man.”

“Well they sound stupid,” Blake said around a mouthful of potatoes.

“Swallow first please,” Dr. Marin chided.

The mage looked down, taking a big gulp to clear his mouth.

“How would you have dealt with someone like Devyn if he couldn’t be a wolf? It would be impossible,” he continued.

“Exactly. I couldn’t handle Devyn without the promise of exercise. And around the full moon, forget it. How do they expect me to help an entire school of werewolves if everyone’s busy daydreaming about escaping and running free?”

“Could you give them time to run?”

Dr. Marin shook his head tiredly.

“Not without people complaining I’m stealing their children’s chance to learn. I’ll figure out how to explain this to them.”

“Yeah, I mean, if someone who is autistic can figure this out-”

“Don’t put yourself down like that Blake,” Dr. Marin frowned. “You’re smart. Smarter than I am in more than a few things.”

The mage let out a disbelieving huff as he finished his dinner. He knew he wasn’t supposed to talk about himself like that, but sometimes he just felt dumb. Joking about it was the only way to avoid crying about it. He knew how to help himself sometimes.