Kiley Ricks (kileyanne) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2014-09-09 07:27:00 |
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Entry tags: | #flashback, kiley, mason |
Everyone is singing, I hear those sleigh bells ringing
Who: Kiley and Mason
When: Flashback to a few weeks before Christmas, 2008
Where: The streets of Scarlet Oak
Christmastime; a time when everyone seemed full to the brim with holiday cheer and the commercialism that went with it. In truth, Kiley wasn’t sure she wanted to celebrate this year. Only six months had passed since the attack - six months since she’d become a werewolf. Six months since her parents had died. And in that time, Kiley had more or less shut down. She didn’t enroll for her last year of graduate classes, and she quit her job, believing she was too much of a danger to be around anyone else. She even stopped logging in online as much as she used to, and she knew Savvy, at least, acknowledged her absence. With Savvy, it was easy to lie and say she was okay. In person, it was much harder to pull off.
She had no idea what her other friends thought. There was no word from Alanna, or from Mason, or anyone. To be fair, it wasn’t like Kiley was reaching out, either.
Corwin told her she was overreacting, and deep down, she knew he was right. It just took her a long time to admit that to herself. To trust herself. Kiley hated the thought of facing a Christmas without her entire family around. But if she was ever going to get over this, she had to start somewhere. Today, she went back to Starbucks and asked if they were still hiring. To her surprise, her manager welcomed her with open arms. “You know we’d love to have you back,” everyone told her. This weekend, she and Corwin would go cut down a Christmas tree, and she’d see about getting it decorated with their mother’s favorite ornaments. She’d fill it with presents, just like her parents would have. It wouldn’t be much, but it would be something.
Being that it was Michigan in December, no one questioned why she was so bundled up, the scars from the attack well-hidden underneath her parka and gloves. Her red hair was down, its color clashing somewhat with the red and orange Jayne hat a friend had made for her, but at least she was warm. Hot chocolate in hand, she stepped out of Starbucks and onto the street. There were several stores down the way, and at least one of them had to have a present for Corwin. She was already out of the house; she might as well look.
Mason had always sort of hated shopping in Scarlet Oak, not because there were no stores that provided a decent selection of gifts but because he was so selective about what he chose for people. To put it bluntly Mason was something of an elitist, he liked to have the best and when it came to buying for others he had the same standards. In the past he had given gifts that were worth more than the recipient could even possibly grasp but having come from such wealth as he had Mason had never really had to budget. He wore shirts -- and casual ones at that -- that were worth more than most people made in an entire month and thought nothing of it, and he had items in his possession that some people couldn’t afford in an entire year. So when it came time to Christmas shop, walking down the street and considering his options, Mason had only been at it for a little under half an hour before he thought he should just hop in his car and head out to the big city instead, where they would have more choice, at least more choice that fit his own personal standards, high as they were.
It was as he was considering this that he rounded a corner and almost bumped right into a young woman walking towards him. A simple apology was already working its way up before something familiar registered, something very familiar, and he stopped himself before he’d even formed the first word. “Kiley?” Disbelief coloured his voice and he actually took a step back to get a better look at the face underneath that bright knitted hat.
“Kiley? Oh my God.” It was her, there was no mistaking it, and his surprise showed clearly on his face as he gave a small, breathless laugh. Kiley was downwind of him, the breeze was at his back, keeping him from picking up on the change in her scent that he would have recognised immediately for what it was.
Of course, it was just Kiley’s luck to let her mind wander and damn near walk smack into someone else. Luckily she didn’t drop her hot chocolate, though a little splashed out over the sides and onto her coat. Whatever, she’d dealt with worse over the years. It wasn’t until she heard her name that Kiley’s head snapped up and met the eyes of who she’d almost run over: Mason Normandin. Mason, a friend - well, more of a track mentor and acquaintance of Corwin’s, really - and one more person she’d unintentionally cut out of her life the moment she’d been turned. And standing there in the middle of the street, the differences between them were still striking. He was dressed to the nines even though he looked to be off duty; she was covered in spilled hot chocolate and looking like an idiot. Fitting, really.
“Mason!” There was more she was going to say, but then the breeze picked up his scent and it hit her head-on. And Mason? Did not smell right. It took her a moment to place it - it was the same wolfy-ness she picked up from Corwin now, but different. Corwin’s scent she was used to. It had never once occurred to her that someone else might be as cursed as she and Corwin were, and if there were, it certainly wasn’t going to be Mason fucking Normandin who had to deal with it. Either way she stood there for a second, staring at him, before she was able to get anything close to words out of her mouth. “Um, hi!” Smooth, Ricks. Real smooth.
It hadn’t been all that alarming to Mason to have Kiley Ricks go quiet on his social radar because it wasn’t as if they had been the closest of friends, though he had always liked her. She was smart and funny and kept on being her own person despite what other people wanted her to be. He’d always respected and admired that. The hat was proof enough of that, it was so quirky and -- to him -- unique that it just screamed Kiley that he couldn’t help but smile. It was good to see her.
Kiley’s hesitation was clear and Mason initially thought maybe it was just the surprise of seeing him, then he had a moment where he thought maybe it was the splash of hot chocolate down her coat -- which he hadn’t gotten around to apologising for yet, oops -- before she was breezing right on past it, ruining any chance he had of figuring it out. “It’s been a while,” he said, somewhat uselessly because she already knew it had been a while, she didn’t need to be told. “I’m sorry,” he went on, gesturing at her coat, “I wasn’t watching where I was going. We should get some water on that.” Not that Mason knew much at all about getting anything out of clothing, growing up he’d had staff who would take care of all the laundry and in his adult life he always had his clothes dry-cleaned.
Well, she had to wear the hat. One, it was a Jayne hat a friend of hers had made for her back when Firefly first came out, and she had to represent. Two, the weather forecast had talked about snow that afternoon, and she wanted to be prepared. Three, she liked it. Just because Kiley had more or less turned herself into a hermit didn’t mean she was a different person than she’d been, at least personality wise. Still, she knew she wasn’t quite human and she could smell that Mason wasn’t, either. How long she was going to be able to keep from mentioning that, she had no idea. Also, he could probably tell she wasn’t like she used to be and having to explain it just made a knot form in her throat.
“Yeah, it has.” Six months, at least. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d talked to Mason, but knew it was a while before she’d been turned. At his apology, she looked down at the spill on her jacket. “Oh! Don’t be, I’ve done worse and it’ll wash off.” It wasn’t like the coat was a particularly nice one, but it was warm, and this time of year that was worth more to her. “I might have a - yep!” Kiley pulled a napkin out of her pocket and wiped her arm off, careful not to spill any more on herself. “See? Fixed.” She tried to smile at him and almost succeeded. “So, how have you been?” If she kept the topic on him, then maybe she wouldn’t feel so awkward. Kiley swore she used to know how to do this, once upon a time.
Had Mason ever taken the time to watch any of the shows that were so near and dear to Kiley’s heart he probably would have at least recognised that the hat meant something. As it was it just struck him as a quirky thing to be wearing and it didn’t look at all out of place on Kiley’s head. What was out of place was the nervous energy he was picking up on, she was on the verge of fidgety without the actual fidgeting part and that confused him more than a little. That didn’t seem right. If she kept this up he was going to have to call her on it just so he could get some kind of explanation.
He couldn’t help the small smile that formed when she almost chipperly produced that napkin and wiped down her coat but the expression she offered him wasn’t sincere enough for his own to hold for long. “Good,” he told her, nodding his head. “You know me, I keep myself busy.” Very busy but he wasn’t going to bore her with the details. Right now he was not only trying to gather presents for everyone but organise pack activities for the holidays, which was always so much easier said than done, especially when they would have guests to deal with on top of everything else. “How about you? What have you been up to? I was starting to think you’d emigrated or something.” Not his finest joke but still a genuine attempt to lighten the strangely sombre mood between them.
To be fair, Kiley was of the opinion that if more people had watched Firefly, it wouldn’t have been cancelled, but she was also used to enjoying certain shows and movies that were more obscure. If Mason actually was a Browncoat, that would be saying something, but she knew better than to ask. She was trying not to fidget, or be nervous, because she knew Mason. She might not be best friends with him, but she knew him, and knew there wasn’t anything to fear. It’s not him I’m scared of. I’m scared of me. At least he was smiling, that was a start, right?
Of course he didn’t keep talking about himself, though she’d kind of wished he had. And it didn’t take long for him to ask the million dollar question, either. Biting her bottom lip, one hand - her left, the arm with all the scars - moved up to toy with one of the tassels on her hat. “Busy’s good, I guess,” she said. “As long as you don’t work too hard, and take some time for yourself and all.” She glanced down at her drink for a second, suddenly not wanting any of it. “No, I’m sorry, it’s just - it’s a long story. I swear I meant to call, or text, or something...” Kiley blew out a breath. “I don’t... I gave up my apartment in Ann Arbor. I’m back in Scarlet Oak now.”
Mason, in general, didn’t watch a whole lot of television. There were times when he hung out with one of his siblings or a friend and they sat with the set on but Mason rarely paid attention, it just wasn’t his sort of thing. He had always been more physically active, he’d never been patient enough to sit still for extended periods of time, and even now with his damaged knee he liked to be on the move. Sure, he could watch movies but that was the limit of his patience before he had to do something with himself.
Picking up on that small element of fear in the way Kiley was holding herself was enough of a change from the norm that it almost pushed the questions right out of his mouth but still he held his tongue, respecting her space and privacy in a way that was almost uncharacteristic for him. Instead of confirming or denying whether he took time for himself he just smiled, nodding his head in agreement of her statement. It’s a long story. When she said that Mason’s mind started running, trying to piece together what he could read in her body language and the other little tells he was picking up on as she tried not to fidget, even the way she held her cup in her hands. “Oh?” he said when she told him she was back in town. “How come?” he asked. She had kind of shrugged the whole thing off but when wolves were curious they did something about it, and Mason could no sooner deny that part of himself than he could deny his dominance or his territoriality.
In the last few months, Kiley had watched tons of movies. It wasn’t that she necessarily considered herself a couch potato, as she’d always been doing something else at the same time - cooking, surfing the Internet, and the like. But now, since the attack, she’d had a hard time finding the energy to much else. She was working on it, hence why she was here now. It was small, but it was something.
And, of course, he had to ask why she’d moved. She didn’t expect anything else from Mason, and it wasn’t like she didn’t want him to know. If he’d been paying attention to the news, perhaps he already did, but she knew she hadn’t told a soul everything. Except for Corwin, and he’d been there when it happened. “My parents-” Six months later and she still had a hard time saying the word “died.” “After the funeral, the bank was going to take the house I grew up in and I just couldn’t...” The words trailed off, and Kiley didn’t meet Mason’s eyes, looking down at her boots. “So I moved back home. Corwin and I both did.” She sniffled a little, telling herself that she wasn’t going to have a breakdown. Not here, and not with him.
Mason did pay attention to the news, he saw it as part of his responsibility not only as pack leader but as an authority figure within the community. What kind of cop didn’t know what was going on in their town and the greater area surrounding that town? The problem was there was a lot of news going around, especially in a town as heavily populated by supernaturals as Scarlet Oak and the surrounding area. Mason took in as much as he could, but some things just slipped through the cracks.
Why that was one of the things that had slipped through the cracks he couldn’t even begin to say and immediately he felt awful for asking, for not knowing already. What a stupid thing to have asked her. Mason almost swore, but managed to hold his tongue, setting his jaw briefly as he gaze off to the side. That was about as awkward as Mason Normandin got, at least visibly. “I’m sorry,” he said, turning his gaze back down to Kiley. “I’m so sorry, Kiley.” She’d always gotten along so well with her parents, from what he could recall, and he could see now that it was painful for her to think about them, knowing with every word out of her mouth that they were gone. “The house is okay now?” he asked, feeling a little stupid afterwards because it wasn’t the best question he could have asked.
A lot of people their age just simply didn’t watch the news. Kiley could remember her mother having the morning broadcast on each day as she got ready for work. And, truth be told, what happened to them would have been a blip on anyone’s radar. A random attack while on a camping trip, that’s all it was. A tragedy, but an accident. She’d never get an explanation for what happened. Some day, she’d stop looking, stop wondering.
Mason didn’t have to feel sorry. She wasn’t looking for pity, but he’d asked. And it wasn’t in Kiley to lie. She wiped at her face with her free hand, unable to say anything for a moment, taking a few deep breaths and catching his scent again. If she could smell him, couldn’t he tell she was different, too? Wasn’t this like a secret club with a special handshake and everything? “It’s - well, it’s done now.” She wanted to tell him everything, but she couldn’t do that in the middle of the street, and she didn’t want to take up too much of his time. “And yeah, the house is fine. Cor and I figured it out. I’d left Starbucks for a while, but I’ll be working again soon. After New Year’s.”
Not many people could get any kind of sympathetic response from Mason Normandin and maybe one day Kiley would come to realise just how unique she was in that aspect. He not only offered honest sympathy and condolences but respected her space and her privacy and all the other boundaries that rich, entitled individuals so often overlooked. Mason was no saint, he wasn’t an exception to that rule, he’d coasted through much of his life based on one advantage or another and he was as guilty of looking down on people -- not just in the literal sense because of his height -- as anyone else of his status, but there were a few exceptions. Very few, actually. Kiley, however, was one of them.
“Still,” he said, shaking his head, “if there’s anything I can do, just let me know. Okay?” Something else he wasn’t known for, selfless gestures or offers to help without really needing to. Mason didn’t even realise he wasn’t acting how most people might expect him to and it probably wouldn’t register later either. As for that secret club, it was just as Kiley was wondering about it that the wind happened to change, coming at her back now instead of his, and there was no way that Mason, a born werewolf, would miss what he caught on the air now. “Wait--” He actually said it out loud before he could catch himself, his eyes widening a little as he looked down at her before his brow knitted instead and he glanced up and over her head to make sure he hadn’t caught someone else’s scent.
No. No one there. No one who could be carrying the scent he was picking up so heavily now. The strength of it on the air was telling enough. It wouldn’t be so strong if the source wasn’t right in front of him, and as he looked down again he realised it was. She was. “What happened?” he asked her, his voice quieter now, dropped down to a level only supernaturals like weres would be able to pick up on because there was no doubt in his mind that she would be able to hear him.
It was Kiley, so no, she had no idea that she was the exception, not the rule. She and Mason were opposites in many ways, and those who knew about their friendship never seemed to figure out why it worked, but it did. She remembered the kid she knew in high school easily enough, and knew that the young man standing in front of her now was being sincere. It was just much harder to reach out - to anyone - than she would have thought possible. “Okay,” she said, nodding her head, knowing she’d never ask anything more from Mason than possibly hanging out or something like that.
But then the wind shifted, and she watched his eyes widen, and she knew he’d caught her scent, like she’d already caught his. In that moment, Kiley froze, trying to fight the panic that rose within her. She’d never met another wolf before him, and as such, had no idea how to react. And anyone who knew Kiley knew she wasn’t an alpha, that was all Corwin’s business, and there was so much they didn’t know about what they were. She was both hopeful and terrified, all at the same time, wanting to ask him all the questions she had, while breaking down at the same time.
It took a moment for her to answer his question, spoken low enough for her to hear. Though the street was empty save for the two of them, she knew it wouldn’t stay that way for long. “It’s - a long story,” she managed to say, finally. “This isn’t the place, I don’t think.” She drew a breath and let it go. “Did - you want to go get some food or something?” Maybe he was free that afternoon, because Kiley did want to talk to him. She had to talk to someone, besides Corwin.
It wasn’t often at all that Mason was struck speechless, he was the kind of person who always had things together -- at least on the outside where other people could see and judge him -- and knew just what to say, even if only after a moment’s thought, but right then he didn’t know what to say, what to do, what to think. Kiley’s scent was familiar to him, one of those his wolf’s mind had long-ago committed to memory and associated with her and her alone but the difference in it now was so striking that both sides of him were reeling.
Kiley had been bitten.
He almost uttered an entirely uncharacteristic um when she asked him that but instead he cleared his throat and nodded his head, regaining his composure. All the while that shock revelation kept going around and around in his mind -- Kiley had been bitten -- but he forced himself to clear that from his face and behave like the Mason Normandin that she knew. The last thing she wanted or needed right now was him staring at her in utter disbelief. So many questions were barrelling through his brain but they would have to wait until they found somewhere a little more private.
“Sure,” he said to her, looking around for a place, before realising maybe it wasn’t his choice to make. “Where did you want to go?” It would be better to go somewhere Kiley would feel comfortable.
Was it a good thing, that Mason was so speechless? Though she'd known him a long time, right now, Kiley couldn't tell. Whatever it was, he was surprised, and he was still figuring out how to handle it. Probably thinking of a nice way to tell me I'm a monster and to have a nice life. In that moment, Kiley almost wished she'd stayed home, wanting the familiarity of her blankets and her couch and her movies, the things that made her feel safe. Sure, it wasn't living, and it wasn't moving on, but at least no one was getting hurt either. There was a part of her that almost expected Mason to leave.
But he didn't. Moreover, he left the choice of where to go up to her, which wasn't necessarily like him. And if Kiley was being honest with herself, she needed that companionship more than she was ready to admit. All wolves did. She thought about going back to Starbucks, but nixed the idea - her soon-to-be coworkers didn't need to know anything more than what they already did. She glanced around too, before talking again. "The diner, maybe? Unless you don't want to, I don't really care. Anywhere we can sit down and be kind of private is fine by me." Kiley doubted she'd actually eat, but not having a million eyes on her while she had a breakdown would be nice.
To see Mason acting any other way than how he was always expected to act was bound to throw anyone, especially someone who had known him a while. He had a reputation, one he perpetuated by continuing to act as people expected him to act, so confident and bold, always looking ahead and so rarely behind. Mason wasn’t the type to show shock or disbelief or any kind of weakness or insecurity but when he’d caught that scent on the air he hadn’t been able to help it, it had been like a knee-jerk reaction. There was a part of him that regretted it but it didn’t matter, it was too late now anyway.
“The diner? Sure.” He didn’t hesitate because his brain was once again unnecessarily reminding him that Kiley was the one who needed to feel like she had some control here, his usual need for it could be set aside for the time being. With that he started them off in that direction, and of its own accord his hand gently touched to the small of her back to guide him along with her. Mason had no idea what to say while they walked though, he couldn’t have expected this kind of revelation and he was still so completely thrown that he could barely string a thought together.
To be fair, Kiley had never met another wolf before now, and she knew that was exactly what Mason was. He seemed to have a far better handle on it than she did, which made sense - Mason always seemed so in control of everything he did. He wouldn’t let something like this set him back as much as Kiley had. If things had gone differently - if her parents were still around, if it had only been her who’d been attacked - maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad. But what was done and the sooner she figured out how to deal with it, the better.
She was hyper aware of the fact that Mason was keeping closer to her than he normally did, hand on her back and everything. Kiley couldn’t help it, she liked having him that close, reassuring in its own way. She’d always liked Mason, ever since high school, but she also knew that he was one, way out of her league, and two, never going to look at her as anything more than a friend. That, too, she’d gotten over. Mostly.
The walk over to the diner was quiet, but it didn’t take long to get where they were going. The place wasn’t too busy considering the time of day, and Kiley shrugged out of her jacket before she sat down, taking off her hat with it. Underneath it, she wore a zipped up hoodie and tee, unconsciously making sure the sleeve on her left arm was pulled all the way down so no one could stare at her scars. At this rate, Kiley was pretty sure she’d never wear short sleeves again. She blew out a breath as she looked over at Mason, wondering who should start speaking first. The waitress beat her to it, and Kiley ordered a water before looking down at her hands again.
Underneath his own jacket Mason wore a long-sleeved sweater but it wasn’t made of a particularly heavy material, he’d grown up in Scarlet Oak and was used to the weather and besides, having been a werewolf his entire life he wasn’t as susceptible to the cold. The sweater probably cost more by itself than the entirety of Kiley’s outfit but as he pushed up the sleeves to his elbows to keep them out of his way he didn’t even give that a single thought. He never had. Mason was wealthy and had the typical -- and perhaps expected -- sense of entitlement that went hand in hand with that, but he wasn’t a bully.
Getting himself settled and deciding against ordering a coffee -- they never made it right in places like this, they couldn’t -- he asked for a water, the same as his companion, and waited until the waitress left their table to get their drinks before he asked, quite simply, “When?” When did this happen? How long had she been hiding what she was from the world?
When. Kiley would always remember the date, just like how she’d always remember when the moons were coming and when she’d shift against her will. She couldn’t afford to forget things like that. “Six months.” It was also the moment when she effectively dropped off everyone’s radar, not just Mason’s. The waitress brought their waters over then, and when the girl asked if they needed a few minutes, Kiley just nodded. It wasn’t about what they were getting to eat, not right now. Maybe they’d get to that, maybe not. Either way, Kiley would leave a good tip for taking up her table for however long they were here.
She drew a deep breath and let it go. “Corwin graduated from college, this spring. He wanted to go camping - one last big family trip, you know? And I don’t really like camping but he’d been so excited and you know, it worked out.” Without realizing she was doing it, her fingers kept drifting over her scars, tracing the lines she knew were there, underneath her hoodie. “I don’t - I don’t remember everything that happened. Something broke into our campsite, in the middle of the night. The park rangers said it must have been some kind of animal but...” She had to pause for a moment, to keep from losing it right there and there. “It wasn’t. We wouldn’t be like this if it was. And my parents...” She sniffled. “They never made it through the night. If Corwin hadn’t been there, I’d be dead too.”
Mason was almost sorry he’d asked. His hand came to rest in front of his mouth, balled into a loose fist, and his blue eyes averted from Kiley’s face while she spoke, his own way of showing respect while she told him what had to be the story of what would likely forever be the most painful experience in her entire life. He could try to offer her some platitude, say that he understood how she felt, but the simple fact of the matter was that he did. Couldn’t. His entire family were werewolves and had been born that way, they prided themselves on their purity, their heritage, and while they sometimes scrapped and scuffled during the full moon when they were all in their wolf forms, it just wasn’t the same as what the woman across the table from him had been through. What her entire family had been through.
When his eyes came back up to hers, though, there was genuine sympathy there. Not pity. Mason had never cared for pity and so didn’t force it on others either. “I’m so sorry, Kiley,” he said to her, and he meant it, that much was clear. Mason wished there was something else he could do, something else he could say, anything, that would help but he knew there wasn’t. What she had been through was horrible, traumatising, and that would never change. “How have the two of you been holding up since it happened?” He paused, shaking his head. “That’s probably a stupid question.” What he was trying to ask was what she and Corwin had been doing with themselves during the full moon but he didn’t want to be indelicate about it.
Until now, Corwin was the only one who knew everything that happened, because he’d been there. It was one thing to know her parents had been killed, several of her friends had come to the funeral, but Kiley had no intentions of telling them the rest. And poor Corwin had been awake through the whole thing - she knew those memories haunted him, how guilty he felt. That, if he’d suggested some other trip, their parents would still be alive and they wouldn’t be like this. Monsters. But Corwin was strong, he always had been, and Kiley admired that about him. Sometimes she wished she could have strength like that, to be able to face this the way her brother was. Being able to confide in Mason - in another wolf - was a good start.
Thank god he didn’t look at her with pity. Kiley couldn’t stand to have one more person look at her like some charity case, broken and useless. She was putting her life back together, and someday, she’d be better. Until the moon, anyway. She nodded, trying to smile for him, as if by doing so she could let Mason know that she was okay. “I left my job,” she said. “I stopped… everything. I moved back home, with Corwin. Couldn’t finish my last year of grad school… but I’m doing better now. Going to get it all back on track, you know?” She shrugged. “And the moons, well.” She glanced down at the table, tracing a line through the condensation of her water glass. “I know better than to let myself be loose anywhere.” Oh no, she’d never hurt someone else the way she’d been. It wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair. After a moment, she looked up at Mason. “How long have you… you know. Been like this.”
Mason couldn’t imagine struggling with something that had been as natural to him as breathing since day one. To suddenly be thrust into the life of a supernatural without any warning. Had it been anyone but Kiley the sad but brutal truth of the matter was that he probably wouldn’t have cared, at least not nearly as much as he did here and now, sitting in the diner across from the nervous, wounded redhead who suddenly looked so small and scared. Mason felt a sudden urge to move around the table and wrap her up in a hug but thought better of it. That much closeness, an invasion of her personal space, would probably have the exact opposite effect of what he was aiming for here. So no hugs. Were they even close enough for that, anyway? Probably not.
Listening, being there for her, was the best he could offer, and maybe it meant more to her than he could really understand. She probably didn’t have many people to talk to about this, after all, and knowing that she could confide in someone about something so huge might make all the difference in the end. Mason nodded when she shrugged, acknowledging her words, agreeing with her determination, hoping to encourage it. At the end of the day that was exactly what she needed to do, what the wolf side of her would need. Forward motion. Action. When she looked up at him and asked that he paused for a moment, considering his answer. In the end he decided there was no sense in sugarcoating what might ultimately be a helpful truth for her. “Since birth,” he said to her, offering her a small smile, one that -- to others -- might look out of place on someone as big and confident as Mason Normandin. “My whole family is like this,” he said to her, turning his hands over in an accompanying gesture. “We have been for as long as anyone can remember.”
She would have accepted that hug, in a heartbeat. Sometimes Kiley needed that physical touch more than she was willing to admit, and having forced herself into a social exile of sorts, that probably wasn’t surprising. She’d never ask Mason for that, though - they weren’t close friends like that. But with these sorts of revelations, learning that they finally had something in common, who knew what would happen in the future. It wasn’t like Kiley would be able to forget that he was a wolf like her, if for nothing else than to answer a question or two about all this shit. She had the feeling Mason wouldn’t mind if she was a little curious every now and then.
Hearing that he’d been a wolf since birth, though? That threw Kiley for a loop, and all she could do for a moment was just stare at him. She’d never even considered that to be a possibility. All she knew about werewolves - aside from her own experience, that was - came from all the crap that Hollywood made movies about, and everything she’d seen said werewolves were made, not born. She was sure she must look like an idiot, gaping at him, mouth open and everything, before she said, “I didn’t - I had no idea that could even happen.” Kiley darted her eyes over at their waitress, still preoccupied with another table, and well out of earshot. “So does that mean you’re not a monster like we are?” Because that was how she saw herself - as a monster.
Monsters. That was a word that never got any easier to hear, nor did it sound any less ridiculous, even coming from Kiley’s mouth. Especially coming from her. Mason felt himself shaking his head, heard himself saying the word, “No,” at least twice before he managed to get his thoughts in some sort of order. “No, you’re not a monster, and neither is Corwin.” Not really, anyway, though he doubted she could see it the way he did. “You and I,” he said to her, “we’re the same species now, even if we’re not exactly the same.” Even if the Normandins were born and not turned. His family wouldn’t see it the way he did as he looked across the table at this frightened redhead who looked so small and frail right now. So vulnerable.
“What happened to you was awful,” he said, seeing no reason to lie about that, “but it doesn’t make you a monster. What happens isn’t your fault, it’s involuntary. Monsters choose to be the way they are, there’s something conscious there in the things they do.” Maybe that didn’t make as much sense as he thought it did but it was worth a try. “You shouldn’t think like that.”
Well, of course Mason wasn’t a monster. He was prim and perfect, always had been, always would be. Kiley, on the other hand, had never actually seen what she transformed into on the full moon, but she knew it was bad enough to wake up in the morning, no recollection of what she’d done, covered in blood and bruises. Whatever the monster was, she didn’t have any control over it, and never would. She didn’t see how she could ever get used to something like that. So she just looked at Mason and gave him a small shrug. Kiley wanted to believe him. Truly, she did. But she did remember what glimpses she’d gotten of the hybrid were that attacked her. If she turned into the same thing, then yes, a monster she was, and now a monster she always would be.
“So it’s instinct to try and destroy things?” she whispered. “Oh god, what if - what if someone else got hurt because of us?” She wiped a hand over her eyes. “I can’t do that. If that means that I lock myself up and away, then so be it. I’m just - god, I don’t know.” In her eyes, it didn’t matter if she got a choice. If she just shifted into a wolf, it would be one thing, but she didn’t and that was that. Every time she’d tried to take her animal form, at Corwin’s urging, it had seemed more awkward than anything else. “I don’t know how to do this.” It was as close as Kiley could come to asking for Mason’s help, in the moment.
That was a matter of opinion, naturally. There were people out there who would always see any kind of supernatural as monsters and nothing any one of them did would change that. So there were people out there who thought Mason was a monster, regardless of the fact that he always had control of himself and never went on any kind of rampage, and even during the full moon he was composed and relatively calm, all things considered. The pack went on runs together when the moon was full and they all transformed and remained in their wolf forms for the entire night but they didn’t hunt or kill, and they didn’t attack humans or anything remotely like a human either. The Normandins had a reputation to uphold, after all, though it wasn’t just that that had them holding back. Just because they were wolves that didn’t mean they were bloodthirsty, and Mason didn’t see Kiley or any other bitten wolf that way either. They lost control, that was all it was, and it wasn’t their fault.
“What have you two been doing during the full moons so far?” She had just mentioned locking herself up but Mason didn’t want to assume anything at this point, he would much rather have the facts than rely on guesswork. “Because there are things you can do, things that mean you won’t hurt anyone else.” Just because he didn’t know what it felt like to be a bitten wolf, that didn’t mean he didn’t have any advice for her. Mason had heard plenty of things about what bitten wolves did to keep themselves contained and if any one of those suggestions could help Kiley then he would gladly sit here all day and talk about them, Christmas shopping be damned.
Kiley’s problem wasn’t with the supernatural, exactly. She was a sci-fi girl at heart, she’d read these stories since she was a kid, but she was still having a hard time accepting that now, she was something from those stories. And not the shiny, fluffy Teen Wolf sort of werewolf, either. There was no Michael J. Fox here and no happy endings, at least as far as she was concerned. It wasn’t like she saw Mason as a monster - in her mind, there was no way he could be. She imagined that he was just the same as a wolf that he was as the man sitting across from her. Powerful. In control. There was a part of her that envied that, as her emotions would always get the best of her, whether she wanted them to or not.
“We made cages,” she said, low enough so that way he’d be the only one to hear her. If the tables around them had any idea of what they were discussing, she was sure they’d both be locked up, keys thrown away. “Stainless steel ones. If we’re locked in before sunset, then - then we don’t get out.” It was as simple as that, really. Corwin was the only one she trusted enough to let her out of her cage, when it was all said and done, and she was pretty convinced that Corwin would be the only one to ever see said cage, too. “Is it - is it the same for you, too?” Kiley glanced up at Mason, trying to imagine him locked up like she was each moon, and failing to see it.
Mason had never really been able to stand the werewolves depicted in any of those television shows or movies that he remembered Kiley being so fond of. No one could ever get it right, and even those that came close always managed to offend him in some fashion. They could get close but never hit the nail on the head and in the end they only frustrated him to the point that he had to switch them off. Then again sitting in front of a screen of any kind had never really been his thing. Getting out there, being active, that had always been much more preferable to him, his element, his area of expertise. Perhaps it was because he was a werewolf but Mason liked to think that he would have been just as athletic even if he hadn’t been born the way he was.
Cages. That made sense, and Mason communicated that with a small nod. For a few moments he wasn’t really sure what to say but then Kiley solved the problem by asking him what she did and he lifted his gaze back to hers, unsure of when exactly he had lowered it to begin with. “No,” he said after a pause, feeling strangely guilty for saying so even though he knew Kiley would benefit more from the truth than any placating lie. “We can control ourselves when the moon is full,” he told her. “We have to change but we don’t--” How to word it? There was no way to sugarcoat it, he realised, so he simply said, “Lose ourselves.” Mason looked almost apologetic when he met her gaze then, as if to say he wished there was some way it could be the same for her too.
Now, knowing what she did, she didn’t think she could watch all of those movies about werewolves ever again. It wasn’t even the fact that she knew the details weren’t right, but that they were either depicted as bloodthirsty monsters or everything was too shiny and happy to be real. Hollywood never got anything right, after all, having to pretty it up for the masses, as it were. Kiley had spent too much time watching movies, these last few months, but she was getting better. Corwin was even able to talk her into going for a run a time or two, and that was something she’d never been able to do before she was turned. Granted, they ran as wolves, not humans, because as a human she’d never be able to keep up with Corwin, but that was neither here nor there.
So, Mason didn’t turn into a monster on the full moon and he didn’t have to lock himself up, either. More and more, it seemed like she’d gotten the short end of the stick, and she’d never asked to be turned. But at least he wasn’t lying about it, either. Kiley appreciated the fact that Mason was always straightforward about everything. “Oh. Well, that’s different.” It never once occurred to her to be jealous. It was what it was, and it wasn’t going to change. “So does that mean you get to… run around as wolves?”
If Hollywood ever tried to make a realistic movie about werewolves they were still going to get everything wrong, Mason was sure of that. Best to just leave it alone and not even try. Not that they would, though, they were too in the dark for that, thank goodness. Sometimes ignorance really was bliss, at least for the other side in this case.
More so than with anyone else Mason was straightforward about everything with Kiley, especially in this instance. What was the sense in lying to her about something she was now stuck with for the rest of her life? Something she hadn’t even asked for or been born into, for that matter. At least for Mason it had been a birthright and he was able to enjoy the particulars of it, not to mention the freedom and peace of mind of never turning into what Kiley had called a monster only a short time ago. After a moment of hesitation he nodded. “Every full moon, for as long as I can remember.” With a sort of rueful smile he added, “We may not get along all that well as humans but as wolves it’s different.” Better. Mason actually sort of enjoyed the Normandins’ time together as wolves.
In a sense, it was a relief to know that the masses were in the dark about werewolves, as it were. Kiley didn’t know how she’d handle having everyone know everything. Would they look at her like a monster, as they should? She wouldn’t blame them. She’d expect that, actually. No, it was better this way. It was better if all the people she knew and cared about had no idea what the Ricks siblings had been through. She could talk to Mason. That was enough.
For a moment, she tried to imagine what that must look like, a whole group of wolves running through the woods together. An actual pack, a feeling she’d known of, but not quite understood the way Mason did. Her pack was Corwin, and that was about it. “That actually sounds like a lot of fun,” she said after a few long seconds. “I’ve only gone for a run with Cor, he loves it.” Kiley still didn’t know how she felt about it yet, the being a wolf part. She was working on it.
There was a part of Mason that was dreading that day when it finally arrived, when the general population became aware of supernaturals, because in his mind it was only a matter of time before it all came out into the open. They might have been able to keep their secrets for centuries but all good things had to come to an end, and besides, was it really such a good thing that they all had to hide what they were from the world around them? From people they cared about? Mason certainly felt a sense of relief now that he knew Kiley was aware of his real nature. It might not have been the best way for her to find out but knowing that she knew was like having a weight lifted from his shoulders, one he hadn’t known was pressing down on him in the first place.
The smile that he offered Kiley was a little sad, as sympathetic as he was going to allow himself to be because in his mind wolves didn’t benefit in the least from any kind of pity and it didn’t seem to him that she wanted anything like that. “That doesn’t surprise me, actually,” he said, shaking his head with the smallest, quietest chuckle. Mason had spent time with Kiley’s brother in school, they were both athletically minded individuals who loved to challenge themselves physically. “What about you?” he asked her then, sobering again, lifting his gaze back to hers. “You don’t like it?”
Kiley didn't mind hiding it, what she was. To her, that was easier than the constant explaining of what happened, how she got this way. At the same time though, she knew this wasn't something she'd be able to keep to herself for forever. At least she could talk to Mason. At least they finally had something in common. If the rest of the world couldn't see it, that was okay, she knew it was there.
"Corwin and anything that has to with running? Trust me, he's all over it." It was always easier to talk about her brother than herself, and it helped, knowing that Corwin and Mason were at least acquaintances, if not friends. Kiley hesitated again before she answered, not wanting to disappoint him. Mason had been a wolf all his life. She'd only been one for six months. There would always be differences in how they looked at their situations. "It hurts, still," she murmured, "to shift. Cor says it'll pass, the more I do it, but sometimes it's hard to find that light at the end of the tunnel, you know?" Kiley shrugged. "I'm working on it."
As he sat there listening to Kiley, Mason heard someone in the corner mention his name. It would give them acknowledgement and a kind of power to look back at them so instead he just ignored them, let them have their little conversation, but he did lift his chin a little as if to let them know they weren’t being as quiet as they thought they were being. Sure enough their voices dropped and for a while cut out completely. He didn’t want the distraction while he was talking with Kiley. Maybe it would have been better to go somewhere more private. There was nothing to be done for that now but he would have to bear that in mind for next time. If there was a next time, anyway.
Her response wasn’t unsurprising but it was still disappointing to hear, even when it shouldn’t have been. Mason had been a wolf for as long as he could remember and the transformation had never caused him any pain beyond a slight discomfort and that had been so long ago now that he barely even felt it when he changed nowadays. If he could give Kiley that same ease and freedom from pain he would do so, but that wasn’t in his power no matter how much he might want it to be. “He’s right, for what it’s worth,” he told her, keeping his voice low, for her ears only, wanting this conversation to be just between the two of them. “It hurts for all of us in the beginning.” Mason couldn’t remember just how uncomfortable it had been for him in the early days but he knew it hadn’t been painless. It wasn’t a lie. “It will get better.”
She heard his name mentioned, too, and unlike Mason, Kiley did look to see who it was. No one she recognized, but Mason didn’t seem too fussed about it. The fact that he didn’t stop talking to her to go see them, she noticed that, too. Kiley wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, whether he just didn’t want to be rude or what, but she appreciated it. Their current conversation wasn’t meant for anyone else to overhear, anyway. Clearly, the diner had been a bad idea, but she’d remember that for next time. If Mason wanted to see her again after this. He basically just told you he’d help you out with all the wolf stuff, so yeah, you’re going to see him again, obviously. Don’t be an idiot.
So Kiley leaned forward a little, knowing he could probably hear her anyway, but she was more worried about someone else hearing them, now. “I see. I guess I’ll keep working on it and let you know how it goes?” That was about as close as asking to keep in touch with him as she could get, right about now. Kiley wasn’t dumb, she knew Mason had a busier life than she’d ever have, and she wouldn’t ask for anything more than a few minutes of his time every once in a while. Not too often, no matter how much she did like his company. “This is gonna sound really dumb but… should I know anything else? Anything important?”
By this point in his life Mason was used to people mentioning his name, especially when he was in close proximity. His family was famous, at least by local standards, they had enough social standing that people were going to talk about them, casually or otherwise, and growing up as a Normandin meant he’d been born with a reputation, whether he liked it or not. There was a part of him that did, that liked people knowing just how much he was worth and how much power his name carried, but at the same time, in situations like this, it was nothing short of bothersome. Still, he was a wolf, and wolves didn’t show weakness, especially not dominants like him. He wasn’t about to let some stranger know that they’d gotten to him.
He didn’t say anything about the way she moved forward, didn’t say that it was unnecessary because this wasn’t about him and it certainly wasn’t about making Kiley feel silly or paranoid. If leaning forward made her feel more comfortable then she was more than welcome to do so. He smiled at her promise to keep working on it and gave her a little nod, showing his approval that she would make the effort. Good. Mason hadn’t doubted Kiley or her resolve but hearing her say it meant more. “There are more of us out there than you think,” he said to her after thinking about it for a few moments. “Wolves and others. The best thing to do is just--” How to put it? “Trust your instincts. If they tell you to back off, keep away, that’s the best thing you can do.”
Mason might be used to it, but Kiley wasn’t. People never remembered her name, and she was fine with that. If she was lucky, they might recall that she was Corwin’s dorky older sister, and as long as they didn’t call her names, she didn’t care. Besides, Mason had always been the popular one and thus used to that sort of attention. Now, especially since she’d been turned, knowing someone was looking at her just made her want to crawl under the table and hide. But that would be weakness, and she was trying to be better about it. She didn’t want to embarrass Mason, anyway.
She also hadn’t realized she needed Mason’s approval until she had it, either. Kiley just didn’t like the thought of disappointing him for some reason, as if by doing so, she would end this tenuous friendship in a heartbeat. “Oh,” she said, letting that information process. Wolves weren’t the only weres out there. She hadn’t imagined that werewolves could be real, so what was she supposed to do if she met someone who turned into meaner and more dangerous than her? You will run, that is exactly what you will do. Like you didn’t do last time. “Okay, I’ll do that. And I’ll let you know if I have any more questions.”
That sort of anonymity would actually be kind of refreshing sometimes, Mason thought, as much as he enjoyed being in the spotlight -- and he would be lying if he said otherwise -- it would be nice to be able to fade into the background from time to time and just live his life with no one watching his every move or wondering what he would do next. It was a territory thing at the end of the day, he had come to realise, popularity was all well and good so long as people respected your personal space and most people didn’t do that. Of course most people didn’t realise he was a werewolf so perhaps they couldn’t really be blamed for crowding him and making him irritable but there were those who really pushed their luck. And his patience.
There had been no other way to break that news to her, about the different kinds of werecreature, it was akin to ripping off the bandaid and hoping for the best. Mason reached into his coat, into the inside pocket, and retrieved a card, which he set on the table’s surface between them, tapping it gently with two fingers before pulling his hand back. She could reach for it in her own time then, she didn’t have to feel obligated to take it from his hand. “You can call me any time,” he told her, “day or night.” If there was anything he could do to make this transition easier for her then that was exactly what he would do. That willingness surprised him a little but he moved past it quickly, pushing it to the back of his mind.
It was easy to have personal space when no one knew you were there to begin with. What Kiley was coming to understand in the months since she’d been turned was that she couldn’t necessarily live like that anymore. Her first instinct would probably always be to pull away, to keep her mental breakdowns to herself so no one else would worry, but she didn’t have to. Mason himself was proof enough that there were people out there, aside from her brother, who would be willing to help her. All she had to do was ask. It was the wolf in her needing a pack, needing to be social, and she needed to adapt to that, sooner or later.
So she gave him a smile, reaching over for his card. Kiley didn’t have Mason’s number - she was trying to remember if she ever did, but she probably could have gotten it from Corwin if she asked - but that problem was solved. “I will,” and for once, there was strength in her voice when she said that, a promise of sorts. It might just be text messages until she finally worked up the nerve to call him, but it would be something. A start for both of them. “Thank you, Mason. It means a lot to me.”
Every wolf needed a pack, it was their instinct, but Mason wouldn’t dream of telling Kiley to do any such thing. Even though it had never occurred to him how difficult it had to be for bitten weres as opposed to those born he realised sitting there how intimidating it must be for someone who had been forcefully changed to follow those instincts. They were alien, unfamiliar, probably frightening. No wonder Kiley was so rattled. Maybe one day she would feel comfortable with the idea of settling into a pack but Mason understood, sitting there looking at her, that it had to be her choice. It couldn’t be rushed.
With a nod of his head and another smile that was likely so much warmer than those most people saw him express, Mason sat back again. “It’s no problem,” he assured her. “Really.” He was happy to help, and hopefully she could see that. Reaching into his jacket again to retrieve his wallet he pulled some notes from inside and set them on the table. “It was really great seeing you,” he said to Kiley once the wallet was back where it belonged, his eyes on her face, his smile returning easily. It had been so long since they’d last spent any time together that any chance to catch up would have been welcome but this was the last thing he could have expected. As sorry as he was that it couldn’t be under better circumstances -- so to speak -- he couldn’t bring himself to regret the fact that they would be seeing more of each other in the near future. “I meant it, by the way,” he went on, nodding at the card again. “Any time.”
Mason didn’t need to glance at his watch or a clock to know that time was getting away from him and as much as he hated to leave he had other places to get to, appointments to keep and obligations to uphold. “Take care of yourself, Kiley. Okay?” He meant that too, sincerely, it was clear in the way he looked at her before he pushed his chair back and stood up. “I’ll see you soon.” Offering her one more smile he turned and offered another -- not as warm or familiar -- to the waitress who had brought the things to their table and then he turned to walk away. When he reached the door he looked back over his shoulder, lifting his hand in the smallest show of a wave before he headed out back into the chilled winter air.