Melissa McCall wins Mother of the Year every year. (alphamom) wrote in nemetonlog,
She didn't want to say her Mom-senses were tingling, because that was a lame joke, but...they were. Something in the pit of her stomach told her that whatever it was Scott had to tell her, it wasn't going to be bad; it was going to be really bad. The rest of her shift had her distracted at best, but she pushed through it and had a sick, uncomfortable feeling in her stomach the whole drive home. The kind of feeling people get when they know something is wrong; that something bad is going to happen but they can't quite put their finger on what. It was an agonizing, gnawing sensation, especially since, these days, Melissa really preferred the rip-it-off-like-a-Band-Aid approach. The wait was the worst part.
Scott's body language and pacing when she'd gotten home and he'd immediately ushered her to the couch weren't helping matters. Whatever it was that he had to say, she really wished he'd just come out and say it, because his stalling was only making her more anxious.
...but then when he finally did, it felt like the breath had been knocked out of her and, even worse, seeing the toll it had taken on Scott himself made her want to cry. She was still wrapping her head around the fact that her son had killed someone when he crumpled in front of her and Melissa was off the couch, crouching beside him on the floor and wrapping her arms around him in an instant.
Melissa tucked his head under her chin, one hand stroking the hair at the back of his head and the other rubbing up and down on his back. "Shhh, shhh, hey...it's okay, we're gonna figure this out," she was saying and she didn't have time to process the actual words before the tumbled quietly from her lips. She couldn't concentrate on what he'd done, because Melissa could still separate her son from the werewolf he'd become. It was easier for her; she didn't have to live it. Her concern was less the act and more the aftermath and what it was doing to Scott. Seeing her baby so broken hurt her heart and she wanted to make it better. She wanted to take away his fear and his pain and bury it somewhere deep and far away where it couldn't ever hurt him again, but she supposed that was true for every ounce of physical or emotional pain a child had to suffer; a mother would always want to stifle it.