a fresh start with the Easter morn- (closed)

[ployboy]

Who: Kate, Edward, Tim, others
What: an Easter celebration meets the Darkwalker's Revenge
When: on or about Easter, April
Where: Milton Church main chapel, other cabins

Content Warnings: we start with themes of cannibalism; loss of self; predation; stalking; vigilantism; violence; and there will be additional warnings on individual threads

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

Not that Tim could let himself fall asleep this time. The twilight of day is a heavy weight on his limbs and lids, but in him thrums the electric anticipation of all-black night. So for now, rest is as hard to come by as sleep. And it wouldn't do to keep idle. With the Aurora coloring the sky above often, Tim had gleaned one bit of information that would have meant nothing to him before:

The calendars, paper and digital, are in agreement that Easter is upon them.

And Kate's probably going to make a big thing out of it.

He won't be jostled awake this time, at least. But Tim figures: well, he can wish her a-- happy Sunday or whatever. Give her something sweet, and then hightail it out of there. Sure. Why not. He has nothing cute for her, but he's got Jolly Ranchers. It'll have to do.

But Kate's not in her room.

He finds her making her way to the old church already. He finds the Lieutenant by her side. And that's never been a sight that he could simply let be.

Kate's Saviors have a frankly deplorable habit... of hurting her.

So Tim, a shadow and as silent as one, follows. He has a promise to keep.

Comments

goodbye farewell and amen

[ployboy]

For the first time, outside of the flinch after the thunder that cracked right through the folds of his brain, his ears flatten. The human in him (and isn't it weird- to think of a human as a part of him and not him, entirely) has been here before as an Unknown to be feared; the wolf isn't used to this, doesn't like it.

And maybe Tim's never liked it either, but--

irrelevant.

His ears are flat, the short tail is still swinging between the hocks of his back legs but now in a quicker staccato. Tim licks his lips in what he knows is a nervous gesture and he can't make himself stop it-- there's Power in how Wynonna is moving

moving towards the wrong

--wait, does she think...?

She does.

For the second time, Tim shouts: black lips pull impossibly back and he's... gagging, he realizes. Too late, he realizes- he can't defend himself. Wynonna has an iron grip on his neck; too coarse uneven brittle fur does nothing to stave away the sensation of not having air. Tim is used to that. The animal is not.

All he breathes in, in a wet choked gasp, is blood.

And then he can't feel his back legs.

He doesn't know when it happened; now he's gasping and coughing and all of his face is blood, and for a panicky moment he cannot move all four of his awkward and long legs. He's flat against hardwood floor, far from the Others. He's coughing. His ear are low, his tail swinging-- hopeful... hopeful...

He is not a member of this Pack.

He is an Other.

Through sheer will- fright- hope-- no: understanding, the wolf makes haste.

The doors.

It makes sense, even as he stumbles one- two- three times on unsteady feet.

Tim is not needed.

He would rather die than hinder.

The doors.

Kate has Power now, Power on her side:

she will be okay.

She will be okay.

He runs.

[pacificator]

Tim— skeedaddles, which is the first sign of intelligence she's seen from him in a while, but she doesn't holster Peacemaker until he's out the church doors and vanishing into the world outside. Then, she slides the old Buntline Special rapidly home as she turns and quickly moves to Edward, slumped there on the floor. His leg is bleeding, but it doesn't look like Tim hit an artery; she takes his hand and presses it, palm down, on the wound, hard. "Keep pressure on it," she tells him, already rising to her feet. "I'll be right back."

The place — and the people in it — are in shambles. She hurries to the pew where Kate had shrunk back away from Tim's sharp jaws and awkwardly half shuffles, half drags her knee over the seat of the bench until she reaches the girl and can wrap an arm around her. "Are you okay?"

She pulls back enough to glance over her, and she looks okay, if scared and shocked and too pale for Wynonna's liking. She runs a quick hand over Kate's mussed hair and hugs her again before her head turns like it's on a swivel, directing her bemused question to both of them. "What the hell happened? Why did Tim attack you?"

She knew he didn't like Edward, but he'd never seemed like he'd attack any of the Interlopers... and definitely not Kate. She'd been pretty sure she could trust him on that.

She doesn't know what to think right now, as she gets a hand behind Kate's back to help the girl up.

[fidior]

Later, he'll reflect on this fever-dream memory as much as he can, and see all the parts and pieces that he failed at. The wolf is Tim, his logical brain knows that, but the rest of him is all foggy stun and none of this can possibly be real, and he doesn't say anything about it. He doesn't say anything. Wynonna, if she's real too, could kill the boy. Later, he'll realise he might have helped caused another young man's death.

Fortunately, Kate says it from where she is, unseen, a million miles away — don't shoot, it's Tim, Wynonna don't shoot, it's Tim — the words play in loop in Edward's head as he gasps for breath, blinking hard against his own blurry eyes which don't work quite right. He's never been bitten by a wild animal before. It's one of his worst fears, after seeing what Tuunbaq was capable of; it's a fear that's lived in him for all this time. He realises he's shuddering uncontrollably and he doesn't know if it's from pain or that fear. He tries to pay attention, watching as Wynonna drags the wolf back, but there's a sudden overwhelming wave of fear for her as she nears the beast with its bloody dripping mouth and dagger teeth.

Cries and protests and horror claw at the inside of his mind and break out, infiltrating those around him. He doesn't even know this, can't control it, but then the beast is running off. He can't tell if it's truly gone, can't see that far from where he half-sits up. Suddenly— Wynonna's there in front of him, telling him what to do and he does it without a second thought, keeps his hand pressed to hot wet. (He's freshly fed what he needs, and he's still gaping for air like a newborn, like a baby bird with a wide-open mouth, mindlessly hungry, because it wasn't enough. He's still hungry.)

Wynonna getting near to him again leaves him dizzy and dumb, and the nails of his other hand scrape the wood beneath him. He could eat her alive.

What the hell happened?

What the hell happened? What's happening? Edward fluctuates between being lost and being grounded by specific words and concepts. She brings him back down to Earth again with that question, and with it comes another sweep of pure horror as he realises and then fights to see it clearly in the next beat. (It's real, it's real, no, it's a nightmare—)

Help, he's saying it in his mind, not explicitly meaning to broadcast it to her, but his gaping mouth can't quite find the words so they play out in his head instead, loud and crying. He doesn't realise they go right to Kate, too. Help me. Help her. Hurt her, I hurt her, I'm so hungry—

Then words are spilling from his mouth, or at least he thinks they are, rushing out in a shuddering spill. He's alarmed, desperate; Kate's been talking (screaming, pleading) so he knows she's not dead, but she's not okay and what if she's dying now, falling away? He can't reach her. He tries, body moving against all its blood, crying out with pain and ignoring it all in the same breath as one hand grabs for the nearest pew, trying to force himself up. He has to go to her. He has to help Kate.

"Is she all right? Kate— is she— is she all right?!"

[castitas]

She can't see much from where she is, but she can hear the thud of Wynonna's boots as she makes her way down the aisle towards Tim. And Tim's being grabbed by the scruff and hurled away from her — towards the doors, the exit — Kate's eyes going wide at the sight. She doesn't have much room in her to process more than that: Tim's making a run for it out the doors and it allows some part of her to grasp that it's over now, maybe. Kate exhales shakily, filled with aching and upset and there's more tears spilling from her eyes — her face a mix of pale skin, blotched with red.

Wynonna's shuffling into the pew, reaching for her and Kate doesn't know how to answer the first question. She sits there stunned, barely reacting to the woman's hugs and fussing. There's a long delay, and all she can do is shake her head. No, she's not okay. Anything else would be a lie.

Wynonna has more questions, and Kate doesn't have answers either. But she hears the Lieutenant's, her head turning in his direction. She can't see him but she can hear his words in her head: Help me. Help her. Hurt her, I hurt her, I'm so hungry—

She still doesn't understand what happened. But she knows he... hurt her, somehow.

"I— I don't know." she says to Wynonna, and then her voice drops. Kate looks to Little's direction before back to her. "There's— there's something wrong with him. He... he did something. He wouldn't let go— and— Tim was there and he got him off me and it just—"

She doesn't know. It was just— messed up.

She's slow to get back on her feet, unsteady even with Wynonna's help — like a newborn fawn trying to work out how its legs work. She feels so tired and sore and weak, and she has to rest her weight both on the pew and Wynonna to keep herself upright, swaying a little. She doesn't feel— right.

Kate doesn't look mad when she sees him, now that's upright. She's not angry, just— unsure, frightened. Of him. She doesn't know what it is he's done to her, how he's hurt her. But he— he did. Something's wrong with him and he hurt her. And even then she's still scared for him, for what Tim's done. She stares across at him, equal parts concern and betrayal and fear.

Her mouth doesn't move, but he'll hear it inside his own mind: What did you do?

[pacificator]

The answer that comes isn't the one she expects, and it's not how she expects it, either. Edward's voice is suddenly in her head, everywhere, rambling and unsteady and saying a bunch of things she wishes she couldn't understand, and Kate's looking pale and shattered, and Tim was a wolf. Since when could Tim be a wolf?

There's something wrong with him, Kate says, clinging to her, and Wynonna thinks about the way his eyes had gone so black, how he'd tried to move away from her that night he came to her cabin, how he'd let her go like he was ripping himself away, saying it was too dangerous—

Realization falls on her in a rockslide, and she rolls her head to give him a disbelieving look, fury edging around her shock and surprise like flames licking around a sheet of paper. "Oh, you idiot."

Despite the thrill of horror chasing through her, Wynonna's hand is gentle as she takes Kate's arm, drawing the girl carefully behind her as she moves forward, putting herself as a barrier between Kate and the man they both— the the man who's cared for her and kept her safe for so long, only to shatter everything in a moment of weakness.

The movement puts Kate behind her, which is good. It also frees up her right hand, which comes to rest, ready, on Peacemaker's ivory grip.

Doc could make it look a lot more casual. Wynonna's too tense for that, head lowering, eyes intent on Edward. "The hunger?"

Goddammit, she'd told him, he needed to control it before it controlled him, and now he's hurt the one person he'd rather die than hurt and all she can feel is simmering upset and rage. "What the hell, Little? I fucking told you— and you went after Kate? Are you kidding me?"

She grimaces and shakes her head like a dog with water in its ears. "And can someone please explain to me why I can hear you in my head and why Tim is a wolf now?"

[fidior]

Kate's fumbling, dazed words make it all real. If there were any lingering disconnect between himself and the impossible reality before him, it's made solid and whole by the girl's reply. 'there's something wrong with him, he did something, he wouldn't let go'

Edward's stomach drops with a nauseating sinking that almost sends him reeling sideways. He sways where he's half-sitting up, feels his shoulder against the pew nearest him, the smell of his own blood swirling through his senses. Then comes Wynonna — 'oh, you idiot' — and he can't see Kate but he can see the older woman as she looks around at him for that brief moment inbetween helping Kate, anger steeling her eyes into shades of ice as she helps draw the girl up into his line of vision. Edward flinches from the sharp daggers in Wynonna's gaze; he draws in a ragged sound that's supposed to be a breath but sounds more like a gasp, having to force air into his lungs.

'what did you do?'

Kate's up and his eyes finally find her, looking back at him like he's an animal she's not sure is safe or not to approach, hurt and fearful and barely able to stand upright. What did you do?

He stares up at her, eyes wide and mouth open. His rambling thoughts have abruptly frozen in him, everything going still and silent. He doesn't know how to answer what Kate asks — as he looks at her, he can see that something's— wrong, he's made her wrong, but how?

What did he... feed on? What is it that he feels inside of him now, that he craves more of— no, not him, this isn't him. There's some darkness, some demon, he would never want to harm her—

Her... spirit? Her vitality? Life, Wynonna said, my life.

He's stricken, numb. It's Wynonna's question that pulls a response from him again, and his eyes tear from Kate's tear-stained face and snap down to the hand that rests at the gun. He might do something again. Might try to hurt someone again. Wynonna is protecting Kate from him, and the horror of that realisation feels like a punch.

"I— I thought it was under my control, I didn't—" He's breathless, as though the wind's been knocked out of him. He's in a great deal of pain. He's still hungry. "I would never...—" And yet he had. With one simple touch, one simple movement.

His eyes swim; he finds Kate again. Looking at her is a different kind of pain; his heart wrenches itself into beats, his eyes plead. "Kate. I—"

There's apology there in him, but he can't even voice that much. How could he? How could he ask to be forgiven? Of course he couldn't. Wynonna's question demands an answer once more, and he shrinks back as though from her, one arm wrapping around himself, slumping back.

"I don't know. I don't— understand. Mr. Drake...did something to me, too. It hurt—" Different from the other hurts, the physical tearing, the clamp of jaws and weapons. Edward winces sharply against his own shallow breathing, too-aware now of his own injury.

Can... hear him in her head. Wynonna can hear him? The way people can hear Kate. And Tim's a wolf now, the way Edward can be. He felt strong and vital so briefly, and then Tim took something from him, weakened him again.

"I think we— we took something. We fed." That word makes him flinch again with another shuddering sound. He fed on Kate. And Tim... fed on him...? Edward's eyes flutter, voice hoarse. He feels lost, able to latch only onto the concept of fixing whatever he'd done to Kate.

"I don't know what to do. What... do I do...? I have to help her..." He reaches his other arm up towards the girl, weak and fumbling, as though he could grasp hold of what's wrong, make it right.

[castitas]

There is a conversation here. An understanding. One that Kate's not privy to, one she doesn't understand. But it's something that Wynonna and Edward do. Something Lieutenant Little could do and Wynonna knew about it. Every inch of her hurts, even if the sharpness of it has gone now. It's more of an ache now. She feels heavy and sick. Her eyes flit between the two of them, unsure, but— they're something going on here, she knows that.

Edward Little did something to her, something she can't put words to right now. Something he knew he could do, something Wynonna knew he could do.

Something that Tim can do, too.

He'd done it to the Lieutenant, just as he'd done to Kate. Tim couldn't turn into a wolf, before. He— he turned into a wolf— she saw that. Saw it happen.

Kate shrinks behind Wynonna as soon as she moves between her the and the Lieutenant. A buffer, a shield — and she's grateful for it, as much as her mind reels from it all. She clings to the back of Wynonna's jacket, exhausted and feverish. Her stomach churns, and she wants to throw up from fear and anger and hurt—

She feels so small.

And yet he's calling for her, desperately — trying to reach for her. Kate's shaking her head, cowering away. "No, no—" she utters, panicked. "Please, don't—"

Doesn't want him near her—

"You hurt me, you—" her own voice is hoarse, her head sinks low. "I just— I just— I thought you were sick, and I— I don't—"

Her head shakes, "I feel— wrong—"

She looks so wounded, and in amongst the fear of what's happened is betrayal—

"Tim tried to stop him, only— only he— he was going to—" she doesn't want to put words to it, but she knows exactly what Tim would have done. And it feels like another betrayal. "I wanted them both to stop."