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all is crashing / we will bloom again

Summary:

Time has circled back around. A new year is rising and oh what it must feel like to be surrounded and yet so alone.

Carter's loneliness collides with long over due revelations during a time of new dreams and hearts full of hope.

(aka a new years fic that no one asked for yet here we are.)

Notes:

The title of this fic may change at some point but I just wanted to get it up for now.
A few blips of non canon traits are found in this (i.e. timbers golden eyes *which are actually muddy brown*). This also apparently ignores the omega infection/violet eyes. Because everyone deserves a little less stress in their lives. Let these boys live. Um, even if the timber wolf is still stuck in wolf form.

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His vision is slightly hazy, maybe he’s had a little too much to drink. He isn’t sure who’s to blame for that. Maybe Jessie for the multiple bottles of champagne she brought, but more so Gordo. He brought the harder liquor, sneaking it in unnoticed under Elizabeth’s radar. But mostly Carter blames himself. Who else is there to blame really? It’s been a rough year and it’s nice to feel… less. Less pain, less loss, less alone. Not that he’s ever really alone though. He has family. He has pack. But looking around, he see’s everyone paired off in their own little bubbles. Mate to mate. Joe and Ox sitting at the dining table talking. Discussing. Always ready for the next step the pack needs to take. Always planning. Always on guard.

Carter finds Kelly sitting on the floor in front the coffee table. A board game spilled open. Money and pieces scattered around both his brother and Robbie, who by the look of frustration on his face, Carter is more than pleased not to be stuck in a game of who buys (and fights over) properties. Or how much bargaining it normally takes to get Kelly to give up certain avenues and tone down his competitive gaming streak. But Carter knows Robbie has a lot he can bargain with, if he’s smart. And he is smart. Who knows, he thinks maybe Kelly will be tempted to agree to one of Robbie’s offers. At least that’s what the soft look on Kelly’s face is saying while he’s watching Robbie, a handful of money fanned out in his palms with his brows furrowed in more concentration than Carter thinks he himself has ever put into anything in his whole life. But it’s endearing to see their exchanges. Even if Carter won’t say it aloud. Sweet almost. However they end up, Carter knows it’ll be good. Knows as nerdy as Robbie might seem (and that would be about level 7 out of 10. Computer geek extraordinaire with possible L.A.R.P’ing somewhere in his childhood.) He can clearly see how much Robbie cares for Kelly and that’s all that will ever matter to him. If Kelly is protected and happy, then everything is good and well.

A light pressure on his arm tugs his focus away, it takes a minute before his semi wobbly vision readjusts itself to the form the beautiful face of his mother, Elizabeth. She is smiling at him, like she caught his secret moment of fondness moments ago. But she isn’t saying anything. But oh how her smile still beams brighter than the Sun, which can never match the comfort and warmth she carries. It’ll always be second to her. And he remembers again, that he isn’t the only one paired off alone and lonely. She is too. Or, maybe she isn’t but he can feel the loss of her mate, his father, humming beneath her skin. She’s strong. She’s so very strong and Carter wishes that somehow he inherited just an ounce of that strength. She never hides her grief, she flows through it’s river, which eventually empties out into a vast ocean of stronger emotions of love. For family, for pack, for him.

Elizabeth’s eyes flicker to the right almost too quickly for Carter to notice. But he does and he follows the line down to the floor closer to the hearth. A steady fire burning now for hours, and there, a foot or two next to the flames is the timber wolf. The most curious of all curious things to have happened during the year. His paws out, muzzle stretched across them. A vintage party hat is strapped around his furry face. The silver and golds shining from the flames flickering across it. There had been a year attached to the hat once but somehow lost and forgotten and torn away or fallen off.

“I really don’t think he liked you putting that on him.” Elizabeth’s laugh is like a soft ringing bell. The kind they say that rings when an angel gets it’s wings. Or something like that. He’d heard it in a movie once. A Christmas one he can remember watching with his mother and father. When they were all safe, warm, happy and whole. Kelly was young and Joe was just a baby, wrapped up in his mothers arms. It’s a tiny memory. One of those where maybe it happened or maybe it didn’t but you never question it too hard.
His face feels warm, a flooding of heat from the alcohol he’s sure is painting all sorts of shades of pink across his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to snag the elastic in his fur. I just thought it would be fun. Maybe make him feel like he’s a part of the celebration.” Carter tells her, while remembering how it had happened.

Now be still.” Carter had teased, gently gliding the silver and gold party hat over the timber wolfs fur, careful to avoid any snags. But of course he hadn’t been so lucky and the wolf’s unsure gaze turned into a sharp yelp emanating from it’s mouth. Carter had cringed too, feeling guilty for causing any pain. Instinct had been to press his fingers into the wolf’s fur and massage the area affected.

The laugh lines at the corners of Elizabeth’s eyes deepen as she watches him relive the moment in his mind. Those lines tracing a well laughed and loved life. Her smile softening away some of his embarrassment.
“Oh, my sweet boy, I don’t think he cares too much about that. He probably just enjoyed your hands in fur. Trust me, all thoughts forgotten about what happened the instant you touched him like that.”
The heat that floods Carter’s face now he’s certain isn’t from the alcohol. When he turns to look at the wolf, he finds golden eyes raised to meet his. As if he’d never been asleep. As if he’d always been listening. Carter wouldn’t doubt that he hadn’t been.

With the evening dwindling closer to midnight, Elizabeth turns the radio dial to the local stations yearly New Year’s Eve Countdown. The announcer’s voice is husky and soothing and talking of challenging years and spouting hope and optimism for the year to come. And he wants to believe what the guy is saying. That maybe, just maybe things can get better.

A loud bang sounds from the distance. And with the year it’s been, Carter’s heart stutters. Taking a minute to realize that it’s just the sound of the towns New Years fireworks display and not that of a shotgun from enemy fire. The popping and sizzling sounds are phantom noises creeping through the trees but heightened to all their ears.

When the official countdown begins, everyone is leaning in closer to their mates and Carter stands counting down next to his mother, her arm draped over Jessie’s shoulder and they’re both grinning, eyes sparkling. Its infectious and he’s laughing and smiling too because the year is almost over, almost wiped clean with the wash of an incoming year. Burying all the hurt and the trauma that can never be forgotten but can be less. Because it’s been such a tough year for all of them and they know the next year won’t be perfect but they hope for it to be better. And that thought leaves him feeling light. Leaves him wanting to shed his skin of grief and leave it behind. And he’s so close. He has his family. He has pack and maybe even mate?

His chest blooms heavily with the thought and with only a minute to go, Carter turns towards the fire but timber isn’t there. A silvery gold battered mess of broken paper and cardboard litter the floor. His elation is toppled with a sense of panic and urgency. He didn’t notice when the wolf had left. Carters eyes catch Robbies, questioning. Robbie just shrugs like “…well Elizabeth said he didn’t like it.” but his face reflects sympathy for Carter before he turns his attention back to Kelly and resumes the countdown.

Mark, who Carter had only seen when he and Gordo first arrived passes by, a glassful of champagne in hand. He leans in calmly, closer to Carter’s ear.

Keeping his voice low and only loud enough for Carter to hear, he nearly whispers, “The fireworks spooked him. He took off a few minutes ago.” Mark squeezes some of the tension in Carter’s shoulder before joining Gordo by the Christmas tree. He wants to ask someday how Mark always knows these things. Like he’s psychic to what they all are feeling. There is so much mystery to Mark that Carter is sure only Gordo will ever able to unravel. However Mark could decipher and know the things he did, Carter was grateful to his uncle. For being a rock and a source of secondary strength when one didn’t realize he needs it.

With everyone still counting, he follows timbers scent to the front door that stands ajar. Outside the air is cool and clean and Carter realizes for the first time how over heated he’d been. The goosebumps spring to life on his arms underneath the cotton of his shirt. The cold biting and sucking the heat from his skin.

He scans the tree line for the wolf, his scent still fresh and recent but not finding him. He thinks about what it must be like to be alone in an unknown place, stuck as a wolf and watching everyone else celebrate in their human form. How lonely it must be. A mirror to his own loneliness of being surrounded by friends, family, pack and yet still so alone.

There’s only a millisecond of thought before Carter is pulling his shirt over his head, tossing it across the porch. Head spinning from the force of the action and the alcohol but it doesn’t stop him. His hands fumble over his jeans before they too, are lost somewhere in the darkness. Carter shifts quickly before the timber wolf can catch wind of him. He can hear the countdown from the others inside. All their voices blending and mixing, counting down in unison, as pack. “10…9.. 8…” when he leaps off the porch, his howl resonating into the night. Putting all the sadness and hurt and longing the year has shoved down his throat and regurgitating it back into the world. Cleansing himself of it while also calling out to the only one that could possibly relate. The only one he wants to release of this..this.. ache to.

Carter scans the tree line again, his wolf eyes seeing more clearly than before. And there, a howl. His head turns and the timber wolf emerges from the dense forest. And Carter runs and runs, paws slapping into the ground. Nails sliding into the earth and launching him quicker, faster towards the other wolf. “5…4…3..” When he finally catches up to the timber wolf, he pounces on and into the him, nudging him roughly and snapping at him in an eagerly playful way before taking off towards the shadowed tree line he’d emerged from. The timber wolf just spares a second before yipping and howling and catching up with Carter and snapping his teeth back at him “…2….1…” and they bring in this new, unblemished year of endless opportunities and chances of friendships and fondness and maybe love through the forest, howling out their “awoooo’s“ together. Not alone. Never again alone. But as pack. As Mate. As halved wholes, figuring out how to fit together to mend one another’s holes and to be made anew.