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There is something in the air that sends a long desired, long needed calm into the valley of green creek. Something about watching the colors on the trees shifting to a bright red, fading to a yellow, and then a brown before falling to the ground to be trod on.
The appearance of flannel on the majority of the students, truckers, and other citizens bring a sense of warmth and a strange feeling of community. The gentle colors paired with boots remind them of the simple pleasures in life, the more important ones to focus on.
Colder days meant when people were together, they were closer. Brushing shoulders to ward out the cold, pressing against each other on the bus, wrapping cold hands together with a gentle squeeze. Simple, kind gestures bringing people together physically and figuratively.
Maybe it was because it meant that time did in fact keep moving, and that dwelling on things for too long would be further detrimental to the Green Creek inhabitants. The fear in their eyes has faded the people who led the attack long gone. There is still mourning to be done, but it is done with others, making the relief much easier to bear.
The local coffee shop becomes a common gathering place for the town; a place that was usually rarely frequented by the ever elusive Bennetts became a place where Bennett and townsfolk mingled. The aftershocks of the hunter’s appearance were healed by the easy company that was present in the shop, awkward jokes relieving the tension from between eyes, and returning the joy of life to faces.
Fall is a time of healing and relief, even more so after the event of the past month. Some of the Bennett pack frequents the coffee shop more often than others, while others choose to stay at home more often, relishing in the calm they had been provided. Carter becomes a regular, accompanied by the timber wolf who tends to draw a number of heads, seeing as he is an unleashed dog. He doesn’t disrupt anyone but Carter though, rubbing against his legs, and pressing himself forcefully against Carter’s legs.
They are happy together.
Ox and Joe stay home most of the time, ignoring any calls that came in favor of spending hours in front of the fire, or walking along the frozen creek through the snow. They don’t say much, but a time will come when Ox will open his mouth and murmur something into Joe’s ear, and the two will smile and move closer together.
There are memories in the earth that speak to the both of them as Alphas, reminding them of things long gone, sad and happy. Together, they visit the spot where Thomas died. Because of the way the past months have preceded, it feels like it has been decades since Thomas passed, instead of a year. Joe kneels on the ground, his hand brushing against the cool stone marking where Thomas rests. Ox lets his hand rest on Joe’s shoulder, a reminder of what he has won as he thinks about what he has lost. They have both lost so much. Ox knows neither of them can help but think about all the things lost, but their bond allows them to help each other, reminding one another that they have won, won, and won. They are together. The pack is strong, and green is beginning to bloom again as the leaves turn brown.
If Ox listens hard enough, it is almost as if Thomas is there, whispering to him, encouraging him.
If Joe allows his own mind to stop the constant noise that bombards him day to day, letting himself be aware of his surroundings for once, he can feel his father’s presence wrapping around him, and hear his father telling him things that Joe knew deep down, yet still needed the confirmation to truly believe.
The two become even closer during those quiet afternoons where nothing is spoken out loud. The gentle brushing of hands, or a brief kiss shared before the night closes in, speaks more than the both of them have ever said.
---
Elizabeth watches them all. She watches the change come over Joe and Ox as they grow even closer, reminded of the time when she and Thomas went through the same change, going from mates to something more. Soulmates were something Elizabeth had always believed in, yet meeting Thomas was the confirmation that she never knew she would get. By the way she observes Ox’s glittering eyes and quiet smiles; she knows the same is true for him
Love is truly a beautiful thing.
She thinks this as she prepares dinner with the pack, closing her eyes to feel the pulsing bonds around and within her, some closer than others, and some so tightly intertwined that there is no question of ever unbinding. Joe and Ox have one like this, as do Gordo and Mark, despite theirs having bumps of time lapse, and knots from where the bond was broken. Theirs is terribly strong though, the breaks having grown back stronger. The other bonds, Robbie and Kelly, the timber wolf and Carter, are slight, yet knowing.
She watches those bonds the closest.
Sunday dinners in the fall are the one Elizabeth craves, and loves the most. As it is too cold to eat outside, the pack gather in the dining room, windows giving them a view of the changing leaves, and later, the pure white snow covering the grounds.
There is a gentle intimacy in the way the table is crowded with pack members, and the way everyone brings their own stories, scents, and mannerisms together to form a cohesive unit.
After dinner, Elizabeth lingers in the kitchen cleaning the dishes, usually aided by Robbie and Kelly who spend the time avoiding meeting each other’s eyes, and becoming flustered if they either met eyes, or brushed against each other.
It is a heartwarming thing to watch when the two finally sit down outside together and talk, Elizabeth hushing Carter when he moves to disrupt the two. She whispers in his ear, inclining her head towards where the timber wolf is curled up by the fire.
She finds the two asleep on each other much later.
Love is truly a healing thing.
---
Gordo has never been one to trust the pull of family since the happenings of the past. He finds it hard to allow himself to reintegrate into the pack dynamics, yet at the same time the bonds have won him over before he has chosen to allow them to.
In particular, the bond he shares with Mark is something he is as conscious as his own heartbeat.
On nights when the memories of the battle and the loss of his hand, Mark’s constant, steady person is there to pull Gordo to his chest, whispering things Gordo believed he didn’t deserve. He knew mark could sense that because of the way his fingers would tighten around Gordo’s shoulders.
Mark would take the arm missing the hand in his own hands, pulling it to his lips and pressing a kiss to the scarred wrist. Gordo would wrinkle his nose in protest, but he could feel the memories ease and fade as the kisses traveled from his wrist to the plane of his chest, slowly mapping out a trail of relief and serenity.
The two spend a large amount of time away from the pack, using the time to catch up on years missed, as well as time Mark reluctantly concedes to researching the evil that seems to be biding its time. Gordo doesn’t want to allow himself to relax, but Mark makes him compromise with an upgrade in the boundaries protecting Green Creek.
The process is one that Mark persuades Gordo to allow him to join him on. It is a long process, one that takes more energy out of Gordo than he himself expected. It takes three days of walking along the border of the town, Mark sitting in the truck watching as light glows from Gordo’s hands, his tattoos glimmering and shifting across his skin as his magic sinks into the earth of the ground.
The raven on Mark’s skin tingles slightly as Gordo works, a reminder of how they truly are one again.
On the third day, the expenditure of the past days catches up to Gordo.
One moment, he can feel his magic and muscles whispering for him to slow down, to wait, and the next, he finds himself looking up at Mark’s slightly panicked face. Gordo scowled, then winced, his energy completely depleted.
Mark quietly reprimands him for not taking a break when he had told him to earlier, and Gordo responds with a number of colorful curse words. Mark ignores them and swiftly picks Gordo up, ignoring the slight resistance he continues before passing out again.
He misses the tender smile Mark looks down on him with, memories of their child hood, good and bad, flood through his head. The sight of Gordo’s missing hand brings back memories of his own injuries, particularly the night the pack lost, lost, and lost. His legs throb, and he focuses on the road ahead of him as Gordo sleeps next to him.
Gordo awakes later when Mark brings a cup of tea to their room, setting it down beside Gordo as he tries to get up, insisting on completing the boundary today. Mark reprimands him, and the two settle in the couch. They are a quiet bunch, both having lost so much, both trying so hard to hold onto the things they have finally gained again.
The two fall asleep a short time later and nightmares choose to leave the two alone, dreams of times long gone taking their place.
---
Some nights, the lone wolves and those who seem to never be alone chose to come together. Usually, these are nights where blue seems to be on the verge of returning, or when doubt seeps into the serene atmosphere of the pack.
Doubt comes in all shapes and sizes.
Joe and Ox share doubts as the alphas of the pack, Elizabeth as the mother fears the safety of her children, her sons, and the safety of the rest of the pack. Robbie can sense a sort of darkness that clouds his senses and thoughts at times, but he turns to Kelly and Ox in hopes to dispel the growing sense of doubt sinking into his stomach.
This is a pack of love, a pack of trust, a pack of understanding. Yet there is bite, and push back, and squabbling. This is a pack of family, found, not blood. This is a pack of misfits who have wandered to a place in which they are accepted.
Doubt has no place in such a pack, and they have a wonderful combatant for the ailment.
On nights such as those, the pack will convene in the den after a long run beneath the moon, howling and yelling their doubts away, brushing against each other, human and wolf alike. Elizabeth will more often than not prepare hot apple cider, passing it out once everyone has settled in a pile of blankets and pillows, limbs strewn across torsos and other legs. Sometimes there will be a movie, other times there will be childlike games. And others, there will simply be a comfortable silence as they all stare into the fire as the sun fades to black outside.
Doubt fades, replaced with contentment.
There will be a time when it is not so easily warded off, and a time when those doubts will come to fruition and this time of serenity and peace will end. Outside Green Creek, far beyond the quiet coffee shop, far beyond the boundaries now reinforced and protective, there are brewing forces of evil seeking to tear the pack apart from the inside out.
Old enemies and new alike sharpen their weapons, mental and physical alike, preparing for the final strike on Green creek.
But in the moment, at this moment in time, the pack is safe.
They are together, they are safe, and they are loved.