Connor and the Wolves - 36. Wolf's Bane

Connor couldn’t take his eyes off his phone. Through first period, it sat on his desk, a silent monument to his fuck-up. The teacher droned on — something about differential equations — and Connor stared.
Second period was even more tense. He left his phone in his locker. What if Soren did call? No, Soren was in class. He wouldn’t call. What if River called? In his mind, Connor kept hearing a ringing phone, ruining any chance of concentrating he had.
“You’re running extra this afternoon,” Alastair said as Connor passed him into the locker room.
He didn’t care. Snatching his phone from the locker, Connor pulled up PackTalk. Nothing. No sign Soren had even looked at the dozen messages he’d left. Connor’s fingers hovered over the screen. Letting out a grunt, he shoved the phone into his pocket. If Soren was ignoring him, sending yet another message wouldn’t help.
The chime rang, releasing students into the halls. Connor blinked — when had he reached the bathroom? He shook his head, reaching for the door handle. He needed to snap himself out of this.
An image burned through his daze. A neko, bent over a sink, furiously washing his hands.
“Oh, hey Dogmeat.” Was it just him, or did his voice sound flat?
Jason looked at him in the mirror, fur puffed up. Was he really that startling? No… the neko’s claws were red.
“You get into a fight?” Connor snorted, shaking his head. He reached past the neko, grabbing a paper towel. “Here.”
Wetting the towel, he took Jason’s hand, roughly scrubbing at the bloodstained claw. It gave him something to do, some way to feel helpful. A way out of his malaise.
“You might want to wear some kind of scent. We don’t need Devyn going on a rampage,” he said, studying Jason’s claws to make sure he’d gotten all the blood off. “Of course, if the other person’s already dead, I suppose it wouldn’t matter much.”
Another joke. Was that all he could do? Laugh at the world and hope it laughed with him? When would he drive everyone away?
Jason shook silently — laughter, or tears? No, there were no tears. The neko was just being polite.
“Just so you know, if anyone’s giving you trouble, I got your back,” Connor added. Maybe that could be his new thing. No more jokes, just helping people in need.
Feeding the poor.
“Thanks, but I don’t think there’s much we can do about this one.” He jumped at the monotone voice. Jason held out his phone, the words running robotically from it. “Hopefully he’ll back off now that I’ve marked him.”
“Or it will just leave him pissed off,” Connor shrugged. “Good luck dude.”
Jason hurried from the bathroom, leaving Connor alone. Splashing some water on his face, Connor stared at himself in the mirror. Yep, same old Connor. His mask hadn’t slipped. He was still the same goofy person, untroubled by the world.
It was all a lie.
He felt the weight of the previous day. Soren slamming the door, River leaving, the call about Erik… everything pressed down on him, growing heavier by the second.
He’d have to watch his father. Erik had been sober the longest out of River’s support group. If he relapsed, a sense of futility could very well settle in. Connor needed to keep an eye on his father.
As for the rest…. Connor stared in the mirror. He was broken, shattered. But that constant smirk was glued to his face. No one would know. He wasn’t out of the fight yet. Piece by piece, he’d glue himself together again, with no one the wiser. He’d done it before, and he’d do it again.
Pushing off from the sink, he wiped his face dry. Taking a deep breath, Connor composed himself.
“Showtime….”

Lunch came and went. No reply. Fourth period passed. Nothing. By the time Connor dressed down for practice, it was clear Soren was ignoring him. Worse, Khurtschono wasn’t answering his messages either. He stayed out of the guild chat room — there was no need to air his humiliation for everyone to see.
“A flower?” Connor stared at Brienne. Or at the small white lily in her hair. “Wow, you’re actually looking like a girl.”
“I can’t help it if you lack my fine looks and a dashing boyfriend to pamper you,” Brienne said, pulling on her jersey.
“Dylan gave you that?” Connor grinned. “Wow, didn’t know he had it in him.”
“Not all of us have the romance sense of a donkey.”
Connor slapped a hand over his heart.
“Rude. I can be romantic,” he protested.
“Sure. What’s your idea of romance, a moonlit race around a track?” Brienne snorted as they emerged from the locker room.
What was his idea of romance? Sitting by the river with Soren… that had been romantic. And he’d enjoyed every minute of it. But he hadn’t exactly planned that. Cuddling on Soren’s couch? Connor frowned. Not really romantic — Soren had been busy with the bracelet. They hadn’t even cuddled.
“Fine. Where might a person who wanted to give another person a flower find one?” he asked.
“I don’t know. A florist, probably,” Brienne shrugged. She grimaced as Alastair stormed toward them. “Good luck. We’ll probably be scraping you off the track later.”
Practice was brutal, even by Connor’s standards. There was no chance to check his phone — he was either running eighty metre strides, or working on his starts between strides. Brienne wasn’t wrong; by the time practice was over, he was nearly crawling off the track, sweat pouring down his body.
He couldn’t take a moment to breathe. It was late already.
Hurrying into the locker room, Connor was half-naked by the time he reached his locker. Tossing his clothes into the locker, he rushed to the shower, skidding to a stop at a strange sight.
Devyn sat under a shower head, shivering. Connor couldn’t recall ever seeing the werewolf shower before — someone must have coerced him into the water.
Shaking his head, Connor stepped up to the wolf. He twisted a knob, granting Devyn the relief of hot water.
“Someone would think you never washed before, Devyn,” he laughed. “You know, sitting naked in a locker room like that is not a good idea. It’s pretty dirty.”
Devyn grunted, staring straight ahead as his knees pressed into his chest. He seemed more relaxed, now that he actually had warm water, but the wolf still looked depressed, soaked to the bone.
Connor rubbed himself down quickly as the rest of the human track team entered the room. It wasn’t long before he was towelling off, and throwing his regular clothes on his still-damp body.
“Farin, get your ass off my locker.”
Glancing over, Connor shook his head as Devyn slid down a locker and onto the floor. It wasn’t his fault; he could barely stand. Connor blinked in surprise as Jason grabbed the werewolf and hoisted him to his feet. What was he doing here? He wasn’t on the team anymore.
Jason rubbed Devyn’s head as the werewolf dressed. Devyn pushed up into Jason’s hand, trying to get more contact. Connor laughed, shaking his head. It was so strange to see a human acting so much like a wolf.
“Aw, you finally got a handler,” Connor smirked at the two.
Jason’s hand slid off of Devyn’s head, signing at the human, and Connor laughed.
“Yeah yeah. You know I have no idea what you’re saying, right?”
Jason mimed biting his thumb off. That Connor understood, but the obscene gesture only made him laugh more.

Jogging down Main Street, Connor scanned the storefronts. The GPS said the florist was somewhere around here. CeCe’s… Ceos Clothing Co… There!
He skidded to a stop in front of a store, glancing at the sign listing hours. Seven o’clock, and it was only six-forty-five. He had time. Not a lot of time, but it should be enough.
Taking a moment to compose himself, Connor stepped into the store. A little chime dinged over his head as his nose flooded with floral scents. His face scrunched up slightly at the crisp smell, and he fought the urge to sneeze.
“Welcome to Aeran’s Flowers.” A man smiled from behind a counter. “How can I help you this evening?”
“I’m actually not sure,” Connor admitted, stepping up to the counter. “I sort of pissed off my boyfriend and I need something to apologise.”
Aeran sucked in a tight breath.
“Ah, the struggles of young love…” He shook his head. “Well, I’m happy to help with that. Do you know what kind of flowers he likes?”
Connor frowned, shaking his head.
“He’s a very outdoorsy person. Like, he cooks with acorns and everything.”
“Okay, not much to go on there,” Aeran admitted. “Anything else?”
“Um… he has a home-grown garden, and a herb garden,” Connor said. “He’s a werewolf, so… I don’t know… maybe something to do with the moon?”
“Ah, got it,” Aeran beamed, rushing out from the counter. “We’ll start with a tulip,” he said, plucking a red tulip from a bundle. “It’s the perfect flower for a fiery romance, full of passion. A budding flower indicates a budding love. Add in a rhododendron for a promise of wealth. With the tulip, it signifies hope for a wealth of love. Bleeding Heart can add a plea for forgiveness to the bouquet.”
Slowly, the collection grew into a bouquet of red flowers, with more subdued colours easing much of the saturation.
“And for the keystone to the whole bouquet…” Aeran vanished into a back room. He emerged a moment later, a drooping purple flower in gloved hand. “A sprig of larkspur to emphasise a big heart seeking redemption.” Sliding the flower carefully into the centre of the bouquet, he handed the bundle to Connor. “Well? What do you think?”
Connor turned the bouquet over in his hand. It was big, colourful, a perfect expression of remorse. Soren would love it. He hoped.
“I like it,” he said. “How much is it?”
“One silver,” Aeran smiled.
Fishing the coin out of his pocket, Connor slid it across the counter.
“Thanks for your help,” he beamed.
“No problem. I hope everything works out for you.”
Hurrying from the store, Connor fished his phone from his pocket. He dialled River as he jogged to the nearest bus stop. Nearly a minute of ringing later, he got River’s voicemail.
“Hey Dad, I’m going to be late getting home. I’m heading to Soren’s house for a bit.”
The bus hissed to a stop, and Connor climbed on board. Slipping a coin into the till, he sat in the nearest seat.
“So… uh, yeah. I’ll probably be home by ten. If I’m going to be later, I’ll give you another call. See you when I get home.”
He ended the call and sat back in his seat. He was probably going to get it when he got home, but it would be worth it. As long as Soren took him back.

Connor stared into the darkening forest. Fuck, he’d forgotten how hidden Soren’s house was. But there was no going back. He crossed the street, scanning the side of the road for any sign of the deer trail Soren said he used. A break in the brush seemed promising, and Connor lunged into the gap.
Clutching the bouquet close, he pushed through the undergrowth. The sun was setting, casting shadows throughout the forest. A rustle made him freeze, until his eyes picked out a squirrel sprinting for cover. In the distance, he could just make out the sound of the river.
The path was gone. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been on it. Connor paused, looking around warily. If the road was that way… it was that way, right? Taking a deep breath, he pushed onward.
Time stretched until it lost all meaning. How long had it taken the last time? Did it matter? Connor was lost and he knew it. He was well out of his depth here.
There! A light in the dark, a glimpse of hope! Connor charged forward, bursting from the woods like a crazed man. There was the woodpile, and the cabin just beyond it!
Pausing to catch his breath, he checked the bouquet. Everything was in one piece. He’d made it. Collecting himself, Connor walked around the house, stopping in front of the front door. Another breath. Doubts nagged him. What if Soren ignored him? Worse, what if Soren laughed at his gesture?
It was insane to think. Soren had never hurt him before. He didn’t think the werewolf had a mean bone in his body. At least unless he was hunting fish.
He knocked.
He wasn’t ready! Connor took a faltering step back, but the damage was done. He could hear scrabbling beyond the door. The doorknob clicked, bringing his heart to his throat. It opened.
“I’m so sorry Soren,” Connor gasped out.
The werewolf stared at him. Stared down at him. Connor suddenly felt their size difference acutely. He was tiny under Soren’s searing gaze.
The door began to close, and Connor thrust out his arm. The door crushed his arm, and Connor dropped his flowers.
“Ow.”
A heavy sigh followed, and Soren opened the door again. His eyes fell to the flowers, and he frowned.
“I… brought you flowers,” Connor tried, stooping down to recollect the bouquet. It seemed a little worse for wear.
“Flowers.” How he’d missed that velvet baritone. Connor squeezed his eyes shut. What was wrong with him? He was a wreck. “Did you pick them out?”
“Um… no, a florist helped me.” Honesty was best here. He couldn’t lie to Soren. “Do you like them?”
“Connor, every single plant in that bouquet is highly toxic to wolves,” Soren said. “That one in the middle is literally wolfsbane.”
“What?” Connor stared at the plants. “He told me it was larkspur!” That was one florist getting a negative review on GrowlGrade.
“Larkspur is blue, not purple.” Soren crossed his arms. “Why are you here?”
“You didn’t answer any of my messages,” Connor said.
“No, I didn’t,” Soren agreed. The silence following his sentence was deafening.
“Look, I know you probably hate me. I swear I didn’t mean it.”
“You hurt me, Connor. The one thing I’ve tried to be in life is self-sufficient. You took that and threw it in my face. I will not be your charity case to parade around.”
“I wasn’t trying to-” Connor sucked in a breath. “It was a stupid joke. I never should have said it. What can I do to make it up to you?”
Soren stared at him impassively, a stone wall. The forest rustled behind Connor, and a twig snapped.
He turned, frowning as Khurtschono jogged toward the house. She and Soren were neighbours? That was news to him.
“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Khurtschono panted. “Altanchono wouldn’t let me have the bathroom.” She glanced between the two. “Oh. Hey Connor. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
“Uh-”
“No,” Soren said.
Khurtschono frowned, looking between the two. Connor couldn’t read her expression. With Khurtschono, she could be thinking anything.
“Well then, Connor can join us for dinner,” she said suddenly.
“What?” Connor blinked. Classic Khurtschono, to throw a random invitation he never would see coming.
“Yeah, it’s the perfect way to celebrate you two getting back together!”
Soren didn’t look too happy either.
“We’re not-” He broke off with a sigh. “Your parents won’t mind?” he asked instead.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get rid of me,” Connor grinned.
“I am.”
He didn’t think it was possible, but Connor’s heart shattered a little more. Enough with the jokes! They weren’t working!
“My parents won’t mind,” Khurtschono said, ignoring Soren’s pointed glare. “And Altanchono will just have to chain himself to the table,” she added before Soren could object again.
“I’m up for it,” Connor said cautiously. Maybe he could find some way to change Soren’s mind with a little more time.
“I’ll finish getting ready,” Soren sighed.
Glancing down, the werewolf took the bouquet from Connor’s hand. Connor’s heart skipped a beat. He had a chance!
The door closed.
“You bought him wolfsbane to apologise?!”
Shit, he was alone with Khurtschono. This was not going to end well.