Who: Carson and Rylee When: afternoon, Friday, November 10 Where: Home Status: Complete
Rylee slept for the entire morning, and into the afternoon. She couldn’t recall much from her night out with Zania beyond the alcohol and spending a little bit of time in the bathroom with her head in the toilet around three in the morning. Even that was a bit hazy because she only had vague recollections of flushing the puke down the toilet. Everything else was a bit of a blur. It was probably ‘irresponsible’ of her to go out on a Thursday night with Zania, of all people, but Rylee had needed to feel like herself again. And feeling like herself included drinking herself silly. It usually also included finding a guy to fuck, but as far as she knew, that particular vice had been avoided.
When she finally woke up it took Rylee a few moments to orient herself. She was home, curled up in her bed and wearing her pajamas. That was something, at least. The room was dimly lit, telling her it was daytime, but like the rest of the week, the sky outside was gray and ominous. With her head throbbing, Rylee pushed the blankets off her body and slowly sat up. She wasn’t nauseous, so that was something. Maybe yarking in the early hours of the morning and gotten it all out of her system. And if there was any silver lining to how she was feeling, it was that she didn’t have to work tonight.
She left her bedroom and padded down the hall into the bathroom. After washing her face and brushing her teeth, Rylee tied her hair up into a ponytail and took another moment to close her eyes and regroup. Was it too late for coffee? Was Carson home? Carson. Rylee thought about Nick. Mr. Muscley Werewolf Expert. Rylee wanted to tell her cousin about the guy, about what she was able to find out. More than that she wanted to see if he was doing okay. She suddenly felt guilty for going out with Zan, and then sleeping off the hangover. It had been irresponsible, hadn’t it? Sighing, Rylee popped a few pain meds into her mouth and took another quick drink of water before flipping off the light and leaving the bathroom.
Rylee could hear the television in the living room, so she followed the sound, finding Carson on the couch. He looked tired, but what else was new? “Hey,” she greeted as she moved to sit down beside him. “How are you feeling?”
In the days since Saturday night, Carson felt like he’d been moving through a fog. A thick one that kept him disoriented and off balance. He’d recovered physically from the ordeal, his scratches healing into just some itchy scabs; none of them would leave a permanent mark. The only real scar he’d picked up was a mental one. Because he’d of course heard about the woman who’d been killed. The teacher, Ms. Gaines. Jared’s ex wife. Dead from an animal attack, quote-unquote. Carson hadn’t even been able to make himself go to the funeral, something he would’ve naturally done to support his friend, casual as they were. How could he, when his brain was swirling with all these unanswerable questions?
Had he been that animal? Had he murdered Sadie? Carson had seen what he’d done to the cabin. He didn’t remember being the monster, not exactly, but he’d been having disjointed, powerful dreams of running through the woods ... and eating. Carson hadn’t had a stitch of meat to eat since that night, because every time he smelled some his throat felt thick and full of hot copper and bile rose to meet it. He did remember puking up all kinds of stuff when he’d woken up. Had any of that been Sadie Gaines? Had he eaten a woman? The news hadn’t been very specific about how badly she’d been injured. Killed. Torn asunder. On one hand it was good not to be too graphic, but on the other ... Carson had a vivid imagination.
He’d been trying to be as numb as possible to get through the days. Carson had been smoking a lot and sleeping a lot. He’d been aware of Rylee’s absence the night before, and had briefly woken up, thinking he could hear her puking, but the drugged sleep dragged him right back down. Lying on the couch and staring at the television was about all he felt like he could do, and he barely lifted his head when Rylee joined him. He pulled his legs up to curl more and make room for her, his dull eyes sliding back toward the TV. Carson realized he didn’t even really know what he was watching. “Bad,” he answered her, his voice full of gravel. “You? Thought I heard you getting sick last night.”
The guilt from staying out the night before intensified and Rylee reached out to pick up the remote and turn off the television. She scooted up closer to him, sitting on the edge of the cushion now so she could slide her hand over his shoulder. "What can I do?" Rylee asked him, thinking about getting a glass of water for him. Or food. She had no idea if he had even eaten today. She wasn't thinking about her headache, or how she had gotten sick the night before. That was all alcohol induced and her own fault. "Are you hungry? Thirsty?" Rylee nearly asked if he had taken his meds, but she could tell by the glassy look in his eyes that he probably had.
Carson frowned vaguely when Rylee turned off the TV. He didn’t want her to fuss over him. There was nothing she could do, not really. Unless she could make him not a monster anymore, make him not a murderer. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he shouldn’t beat himself up, he couldn’t really be held responsible for what the monster in him did, but he couldn’t seem to stop. Sadie Gaines was dead, and Carson might have thrown up parts of her guts in the woods. He smoothed out his expression, because none of that was Rylee’s fault and she was trying to take care of him, and he needed to appreciate it. “Not really hungry ... some water, maybe? A Gatorade?” he suggested. One could never be too hydrated, right?
Rylee nodded and stood to head into the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of ice water and got Carson a Gatorade, carrying it back to him and offering it once she sat again. A part of her wondered if this was the right time to talk to him about Nick and Adam, but was there ever a right time for this stuff? He needed to know people were there for him and they were going to help him through all of this. The shitty new normal, Nick had called it. It was so painfully accurate. "So... I went to see Adam," Rylee told him after she had taken a long drink from her glass. The cold water felt good in her throat, still sore from the alcohol and vomit. "He gave me Nick's information. The guy who showed him the werewolf photos? He's staying at the Juniper Inn and let me come to his room to talk to him about all of this stuff."
Carson had sat up while Rylee was in the kitchen, pulling the loose blanket over his legs. He hadn’t even bothered to put his prosthetic on that morning, since he was just moving from bedroom to couch, essentially. He accepted the cold bottle with a murmured thanks and twisted the cap off for a swallow. Carson felt a little jolt in his stomach when she said she’d talked to Adam -- Adam hadn’t seen him as a werewolf, but he’d seen the damage first hand. There was a part of Carson that was terrified that Rylee would decide he was too dangerous and make him move out or something. But she kept talking, about going to see Nick, so Carson tried to focus on her words instead of his anxiety. “Yeah?” he murmured, picking at the Gatorade bottle label with his thumbnail. “What’d he have to say?”
"Well, he seems to know his stuff," Rylee said. The cool glass felt good against her sweaty palm and Rylee took another quick sip before continuing. "He said that no one really knows what it is, if it's a virus or mutation or whatever, but apparently there are people who are researching werewolves, who are trying to find out more about the science behind it." She almost wanted to tell him that maybe there was a cure in the future, but then she remembered Nick telling her he didn't want to give her false hope. And she didn't want to give that to Carson either, even if she thought it might make him feel better. Because this was something so far out of her depth that she had no way of knowing if this could be cured or not. Right now they needed to focus on how to prevent him from hurting someone in the future. "Basically you're you every other day of the month but on the full moon. He said nothing will change for you physically or anything. But he offered to help find proper accommodations for you when you do change. And he suggested stronger tranquilizers with a rifle for when you change. The ones Adam had used weren't adequate enough, obviously. So..." Rylee licked her lips, "we have some help."
Carson had inferred some of that, but it was good to hear it confirmed by someone else. Someone who apparently knew his shit. He wondered vaguely for a second why she hadn’t invited him along to talk to this expert, but he knew he hadn’t been the most receptive to anything for the past few days. He nursed his Gatorade and nodded slightly as she talked. Tranquilizers being shot at him out of a rifle should’ve been scary, but they really weren’t. Not compared to being a vicious kill-beast. “What kind of accommodations?” he asked, glancing over at his cousin. “Something better than a cabin, I hope.” Wherever it was, he didn’t want Rylee there, he couldn’t put her at risk like that. At least not until there was a solid, foolproof plan in place.
Rylee nodded. "Yes, something better than a cabin." She smiled faintly for a moment before it faded and she set her glass of water down on the table. "He mentioned a cage large enough to hold you. It would have to be put somewhere no one would stumble across. He has some contacts so he's going to look into it and then call me. We're going to make sure everything is safe for next month and that you're safe." She was going to learn how to fire a tranq rifle too. And look into whatever else she can do to protect herself while protecting him. "That's the most important thing. Adam said he was willing to help too, even if you just need someone to talk to." Rylee knew she might not be the best choice for that, which was why she asked Adam to come around a bit for Carson's sake. Things between them were still a bit strained and she felt like it would help him more to have someone removed from their situation to help him through this. Someone he could talk to without worrying about other things.
A cage somewhere. That was both reassuring and ... not. The shackles that he and Adam had tried hadn’t worked, but cages were built to hold animals like tigers and gorillas and shit, so maybe something more solid would work. If he could tear through steel? He was in trouble, and so was anyone else who risked being close to him. Carson had already been something of a time bomb with his mental health issues, but all of that seemed like paltry bullshit now. Now he was a real danger. “I’m more concerned with you staying safe,” he muttered, lifting the Gatorade bottle again and not meeting Rylee’s eyes. As for talking to anyone at all? It was unappealing. Carson couldn’t therapy or medicate his way through this one, and he had no idea where to start trying to explain how he felt about it. And suddenly guilt crashed in that he wasn’t taking care of this himself, Rylee was. He gave her a sheepish glance. “Thanks for ... going and talking to him,” he added quietly. “Hope he comes through.”
Rylee had more faith in this new plan than whatever Adam and Carson had come up with, because clearly it hadn't been enough. Not that it was their fault. She was thankful they had actually tried something but it was a stepping stone to figuring out the best methods for the next full moon. She had faith in Nick, and she could tell Adam did too when they had spoken. "I'll be safe," Rylee promised him, not overly concerned about her own welfare when Carson was the one dealing with so much. But she wasn't going to let Carson shut her out of everything this time. "I'm going to learn as much as I can about all of this. And Nick will come through because he'll have me knocking on his door every day he spends in this town until he does. I can be annoyingly persistent." Rylee reached out to touch his arm again. "Do you want to talk about it? Any of it? I know you have to be scared."
If he hadn’t been feeling like a murderer, the bit about being annoyingly persistent probably would’ve made him laugh. Or smile at least. Rylee was good at that. He’d been watching her hound his doctors for answers and better treatments and such for years. She advocated for him when he couldn’t do it himself, and here she was doing it again. It made him want to cry. But a lot of things did these days. Carson’s gaze ticked to Rylee’s hand on his arm and he had to resist the urge to grab it, to pull her in and wrap his arms around her tight and not ever let her go. “I think I killed Sadie Gaines,” he whispered through numb lips, still staring at Rylee’s hand. “I’m friends with her ex. How the fuck do I live with that.” It didn’t even come out like a question, because Carson was pretty sure there wasn’t an answer.
"What?" That startled Rylee to the point where it nearly stole her breath, and her hand tightened briefly on his arm as she studied him closely, trying to find the answers in his eyes, even though they looked a little red and out of focus. Now her mind was racing over details of Sadie's death. The only thing the police had revealed to the local news was that she had been attacked by a wild animal. A rabid dog? They hadn't really given any more detail than that. She suddenly could understand why Carson might believe he had been responsible if the attack had been gruesome and violent enough to kill her. But that didn't mean it had been him. "What makes you think that, Carson? Do you remember anything from that night?"
Carson was vaguely surprised at her surprise ... but she hadn’t seen him. Granted, he hadn’t seen himself either, but he’d dealt with the aftermath. The disorientation and terror and being half-frozen when he woke up, and especially the gore that had come up out of his body. Had it been human or animal? He hadn’t been able to tell, it was all half-digested ... there’d just been so much of it. And yeah the news had said it had been a rabid dog or something, but they’d said that about what had attacked him too. He’d just been lucky enough to get away. Maybe he shouldn’t have. “No,” he admitted in a mumble, his gaze straying up to Rylee’s neck and no further. What if it had been her? What if one day he woke up naked and over-full again and it was Rylee’s body underneath him? Or just parts of it? The thought made him want to throw up all over again. “But I ate something ... it might’ve just been ... animals, I dunno. But what if it was me? Everybody kept saying it was a dog that bit me, and it wasn’t.”
The more she watched him the more Rylee realized that he wasn't really looking at her. He kept avoiding her gaze. Out of shame? Something else? She thought of Sadie Gaines, tried to imagine Carson, even as a werewolf, ripping the poor woman apart. It made the throbbing in her temple intensify. But she wasn't ready to accept that he was responsible for it. And if he was, had it really been him? Nick even told her that once Carson changed he was nothing more than a predator who wouldn't hesitate in killing her if he could. Rylee thought about what he said, her stomach churning over the mere thought of throwing up animal - or human - guts. Her gaze ticked away from his face to stare at the wall for a moment before she spoke again. "You were out in a cabin, though. I don't... I mean, that would have meant you traveled all the way from that cabin to Sadie Gaines's back yard without anyone seeing you. And... I mean, another werewolf bit you, Carson, which means there's at least one more out there. For all we know, it could have been him. Or her."
It was a valid point, and it was that uncertainty that had kept Carson from truly losing his shit over this. At least so far. He nodded slowly, his brow furrowing. He didn’t want to be difficult, feeling like he ought to be keeping this particular terror to himself. But Rylee seemed to want him to talk, and there wasn’t much else on his mind. “That’s still a fifty-fifty shot,” he mumbled. “I don’t like those odds.” The other werewolf did already have a history of attacking humans though, obviously. Maybe Carson had been a ... less cannibalistic werewolf. Was that stupid? Probably. But he wanted to cling to that possibility anyway, he had to cling to it. “But it did ... come after me. Maybe it like ... lives closer to town or something.” He didn’t sound very convinced though, and Carson wasn’t sure he would ever truly know. That was the second to worst part -- the first obviously being that Sadie was dead.
"How do we know they're the only other one in town?" Rylee asked. "I don't want to go down a rabbit hole here, but the werewolf that bit you had to have been bit by someone... obviously there's not a pack of werewolves overrunning Point Pleasant, but we can't know for sure who in town is cursed and who isn't. Maybe there are more who take precautions during the full moon and one escaped, like you did. We just don't know, Carson. I know it's easier said than done, but you can't let yourself go down that road when you can't know for sure that it was you. I mean, they police were theorizing an animal attack, but they didn't reveal much else. It could have been..." A person. Although thinking about someone out there capable of doing that to another human being made Rylee feel nauseous all over again. Even if it had been Carson who killed Sadie, it hadn't been Carson, but Rylee was aware that if she had been in his shoes, that rationale wouldn't have made her feel any better either. She reached for his hand to hold it and give it a gentle squeeze. "We're going to work this out. Nick told me this was... manageable. It's a shitty new normal, but it's something we can live with."
Another good point. Who knew how many of them there were out there? It was a scary point, sure, but if it alleviated some of the terrible pressure on Carson’s chest, he wanted to accept it. How fucked up was it that his cousin, the one he was in love with, kept having to talk him through these horrible, scary situations? Carson knew he couldn't fully understand the crazy burden he’d put on her in the past couple of months, but he was suddenly overwhelmed with stupid gratitude. He capped his drink and set it down, then shuffled around until he was leaning over and laying down with his head in Rylee’s lap. He slipped both arms around her thigh to hug it, his knees pulling up closer to his body. Carson’s throat felt thick and tight, but fuck, he didn’t want to cry on her again. “I love you,” he said hoarsely instead, closing his eyes for a moment. “I can’t thank you enough.” Carson just hoped that Nick was right and they could live with it. That he could live with it. Because if there was no way to fix it, his other option was bleak.
Rylee wanted to alleviate his worries, although lately she felt like she had only been making them worse. She just didn't know how to really wrap her brain around all of this. It was jarring and scary and it had been difficult to truly digest what was really going on in this town while she was trying to help Carson through it. But she felt a little more grounded after having talked to Nick. Like maybe this was manageable if they had the right supplies and the right people helping. Rylee lifted her arms slightly when Carson began to move, but her hand slipped into his short hair once his head was in her lap. "I love you too," she murmured. "And you don't have to thank me for this. For any of it. I'm just... sorry I couldn't be there for you sooner."
It felt shitty to know that he was being mostly useless in all this, that other people -- Rylee, Adam, Nick -- were taking care of his problem for him. Carson had just sunk into a place where he felt stuck, didn’t have the first idea what to do next, all he wanted to do was sleep and not think. All of this werewolf shit, the injury itself, whatever was going on with the dreams, and now a crushing guilt that he might have brutally murdered a woman ... it all felt like so much. He knew he needed to get his shit together, but it was like he couldn’t even see his shit to gather anymore. Carson gave a negative little grunt and shook his head against Rylee’s leg slightly. “Don’t say that, not your fault,” he murmured. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I just wanted it to not be true and then ... over. But now it’ll never be over. M’sorry I’m such a ... constant problem.”
"Please stop saying that," Rylee whispered. He wasn't a problem. He wasn't a burden. Rylee didn't know how many times she could tell him that he wasn't any of those things to her. She wanted to believe that if their roles were reversed, that he wouldn't think her a burden, but she didn't know that for sure at this point, because he didn't seem to believe her when she tried to reassure him that he wasn't. He was her cousin, and her best friend and all she wanted was for him to be healthy and safe. "Nothing that happened to you was your fault. Not your leg, or your trauma, or... the dreams, or this. You're not taking advantage of me, you're not treating me shitty. You're not a problem, okay? You're not a burden, or difficult. I'm here because I love you and I want to help you."
Carson knew for sure that he wouldn’t see Rylee as a burden if she’d needed him the way he needed her. But for some reason it was so difficult to apply that to himself. It wasn’t a slight against Rylee or how much she cared about him -- at least it wasn’t that way in his head. She’d just been taking care of him to some degree for so long, and he was so afraid of losing her completely, he worried that there had to be some point where she would burn out and need to be rid of him on some level, for her own sake. All of this made him want to just pack bags for both of them and take off, leave this town behind, start over somewhere they could be together. Even though Rylee had said that was over ... Carson still thought about it. Still dreamed about the few times they got closer, still yearned for that. But he couldn’t escape himself, and now there was a part of him that needed a lot of maintenance, apparently. “Okay,” he whispered belatedly, turning his head just a little to peek up at her. “I’ll try. I just ... hate that you go through so much ‘cause of me. But I’m so glad you’re here.” He hugged her leg a little tighter, then pushed a kiss against her thigh. “I never wanna hurt you.”
There had been moments in the past couple of weeks where Rylee had briefly considered moving out. Not because she was burned out, or didn't want to be rid of him, but because of how difficult things had gotten between them. She felt responsible on some level for his unhappiness and it felt like some form of self-torture to continue living together when they weren't able to be together. In her heart Rylee knew she would say fuck all to the world and society and everyone in it if it meant she got to be with him, but Carson had been right. The world was the way it was, and that was why they couldn't. If they both weren't willing to make that sacrifice, then there wasn't much else to be done. But she still loved him and she wanted to see him through all of this. Moving out now was definitely out of the picture. Rylee stroked her fingers through his hair, ignoring how her skin tingled where he had kissed it. "I don't you don't," she murmured. "I'll be here as long as you need to be, okay? I don't want you to worry about that."
He wasn’t sure if he was capable of not worrying at all, but he would try. His anxiety was difficult to put a damper on as it was, and all of this bullshit happening only confirmed to him that there was a lot to be afraid of. Things kept going wrong, and it made Carson feel so unstable and scared. Which led him to make worse decisions and turn into awful company and all that. He just had to get through it, was all, and not forget that he had people in his corner, helping him out. “Then you’ll be here forever,” he murmured and rubbed Rylee’s leg a little bit with his thumbs. He didn’t think he would ever stop needing her. Carson let the quiet settle for a moment, then added. “I’m meeting up with the dream people today. In a couple hours. The girl thinks she found the road, where we all are in the dreams.”
Rylee continued to stroke her fingers through his hair. She wasn't sure that he would always need her, but she supposed she was self aware enough to hope that he did. It was a selfish and unfair desire, and she knew that too. It was probably why she had been so upset that he hadn't told her about anything that had been going on with him lately, because he hadn't needed her then. But she wished none of this had happened. She didn't want Carson to have to go through any of this. The real unfair thing was that he was. Her gaze ticked back down to his face when he mentioned the dream people and Rylee frowned. "You're not going to go out there, are you?"
The thing was, Carson had needed her then. He’d just been stubborn about trying to protect her from it all, and afraid that she wouldn’t believe him at all. He needed her bad enough that he didn’t want to risk scaring her off. As heavy as everything felt now, Carson knew that it would’ve been much worse if he hadn’t come clean to Rylee, didn’t have her help and her reassurance and her petting his hair right then. He needed her and if she insisted he wasn’t a burden, then ... well, Carson would try to believe her. “Don’t think so,” he said. “One of the guys, Neil, knows someone who ... I dunno, does stuff in dreams. Like a psychic, I guess. He’s gonna try to get her to help us out, see if we can get some answers about why it’s happening. But the fact that it’s a real place ... kinda freaks me out,” Carson admitted in a mutter.
A psychic. Of course. Rylee was just waiting to be told vampires were real too. And Bigfoot. At this point would she really be surprised? But if someone out there could help Carson and Nic and the others than she wanted it to happen, she didn't care what they could do. "I understand. It's scary," Rylee said. "But maybe it just means you're closer to getting answers, and when you have answers, you can try to figure out how to make all of this stop." She felt a little bit better about it, knowing Nic was involved. If he could really do magic, or whatever it was that he did, maybe he could keep them safe too.
Everything was so fucked up and weird, Carson hadn’t even second-guessed the existence of psychics. If that was even what Jane was. Who really fucking knew, honestly. So he didn’t even think to worry about Rylee not believing that part. It was scary, yeah, but it seemed kind of less-so, now. Being doomed to turn into a flesh-eating monster once a month for the rest of his life had changed his perspective a little bit. “Yeah, hopefully,” he murmured. Carson had no idea what those answers might be, or how they would get it to stop, but ... it had to come to some kind of end, didn’t it? He didn’t want to be stuck with two lifelong magical afflictions, for fuck’s sake. Carson gave a little sigh and closed his eyes again. “I’ll let you know how it goes,” he told Rylee, because he’d promised to keep her involved and he meant to keep that promise.
It was difficult to think about everything Carson was going through because she was so focused on working out a solution for the werewolf problem that she had nearly forgotten about the dreams. Were they connected somehow? At least he had people involved on both sides so he wasn't facing his problems completely alone. Rylee knew she could check in with Nic... and Nick. Life was fucking weird. "Do you want me to go?" Rylee asked. "I could stay in the car." He may not want her there, she didn't know. It wasn't like she could really offer much in the way of help or advice. But she wanted to be there for Carson if he needed her.
Carson smiled faintly at the offer, turning his head enough to look up at her. “Nah ... I dunno how long it’ll take,” he answered. It probably wouldn’t be too long; they’d discovered pretty quickly last time that they had nothing in common. If they were just going to talk about the road and whether or not Neil had talked to Jane, Carson didn’t know how long it would all last. “But maybe I can pick up something to eat on my way back and we can hang out after?” he suggested in a murmur, looking up at her. She was already helping him so much, Carson really just wanted to spend some normal time with her. If he could pull his head out of his ass and stop being such a mopey bastard, that was. He would try.
Rylee nodded. "Sure," she said. She had some school work to get done online anyway, and a long hot bath definitely had her name on it. She still felt gross and hungover and Rylee knew she needed some time to get herself back together mentally. "Is there anything you need before you go? Will you be okay to drive?" Rylee knew he was a capable, grown man, but she still worried. He looked exhausted and she could just imagine him driving to meet the others, zoning out on the way and maybe not paying as much attention to the road as he should be.
Carson still had a little while before he had to be there, so he wasn’t rushing out the door or anything. He didn’t even want to get up off of Rylee’s lap. It was sweet of her to fret about him like that, and he smiled faintly, giving her leg another gentle squeeze. “I’ll be okay,” he said. “It’s not far.” Nothing was far in Point Pleasant, and he could drive. Hell, it would probably be good for him to get up off the couch and go somewhere, no matter what it was for. And maybe they would make some progress. It was hard for Carson to feel optimistic about any of it, but he would still show up. “Just to, uh ... Nic Castell’s spice shop.”
"That's not too far," Rylee murmured. She sighed and continued to run her fingers through his hair slowly. "I went and talked to him last week on Halloween. He told me he was a witch. Showed me what he could do. Zania too, remember her? Nic's sister." It probably wasn't her place to tell Carson these things, but she didn't really care. Carson was her best friend, the person she was closest to, and in a way she felt like maybe Carson deserved to know, since he and Nic were experiencing the same weird dreams. Her social life had never really aligned with Carson's, even back in high school, so it wouldn't have surprised her if Carson had forgotten about Zan and Rylee's friendship. Or even her brief fling with Nic. It just struck Rylee as bizarre, the way people seemed to be tied together in this town.
He frowned vaguely at that news, but nodded that yes, he remembered Zania Castell. Not super well, they’d never run in the same circles and Carson’s memory of his high school days was kind of spotty, but she was a difficult one to miss. The frown was because it seemed odd that Nic would just blurt something like that out to Rylee. Carson had more or less figured out that he was a witch or warlock or whatever the right word was from things he’d said at their meeting, but why would he just tell Rylee? Why would Rylee go talk to him specifically anyway? Was that a tug of jealousy he felt? “Yeah ... why’d you go talk to Nic though?” he asked, looking up at Rylee curiously. “Do you two know each other?” Had she fucked him? Should he care? That last one was a ‘no, definitely not,’ and he tried to remind himself of that.
Rylee's lips twitched into a brief, faint smile as she peered down at him. "We were close in high school. And there was a brief thing during the summer a long time ago. It wasn't serious, but we've stayed in touch since. When you mentioned him being one of the people sharing your dreams... I went to talk to him about it. I don't think he remembered that you were my cousin. But that's when he told me what he was." There was a lot Rylee didn't know about the people in Point Pleasant, but now she was learning. It was a bit jarring, obviously, but she would rather know than not know.
A brief, non-serious ‘thing.’ Huh. Rylee saying it was a long time ago relaxed that sudden knot in Carson’s stomach that had no right to be there. He knew she was liberal when it came to sex, he knew Rylee had slept with a lot of the men in town, and he’d never cared, never let it bother him. Until now, apparently. He had to wonder why she hadn’t said something about knowing Nic when Carson had first said his name, but the whole thing was so crazy, he guessed it hadn’t seemed important. That, and he was the last person to talk about omitting information. Carson tried to push all that out of his head because it didn’t matter anyway. “He’s said to us that there’s not really anything he can do about it, so fat lotta good it does us,” he muttered with a little sigh. “I mean ... it’s cool to know a witch, I guess. Or, uh, two of ‘em.”
"Well, there's nothing he can do about it now, because you guys don't know what you're dealing with yet, but... maybe once you get some more answers, there might be something they can do to help." Rylee didn't know for sure, but she was willing to grasp at anything to try and make him feel better. Hope was not all lost. "I guess it's cool to know a witch or two. It's a bit weird that I've known them for so long and never knew about the witch thing, but... a completely different world has opened up for me, so now I'm just trying to get through the day without wondering if everyone I see is something special or different."
Carson hoped she was right, that Nic and-or Zania could help them when they started to figure this out. If they started to figure it out, fuck. This Jane lady better have something to tell them, that was all he could think. If that avenue failed, Carson didn’t know what they would do. He gave a faint chuckle to the rest of what Rylee said. “I’m right there with you,” he murmured.
“There’s probably way more than we think, and it’s ... I dunno, jarring.” Both of them knew a lot of people in this town, as lifelong residents ... what if they already knew the other werewolf? How fucked up would that be? Carson rubbed absently at Rylee’s leg. “At least we know for sure what one of my deals is?” he offered, squinting one eye a bit, half-joking about it being a positive.
Rylee would have been lying if she said she didn't think about who might have bitten Carson. Was it someone they knew? Someone passing through town at the wrong time? She supposed ultimately it didn't matter, because what could they do about it now? Her hand paused briefly in Carson's hair and her lips twitched into a faint smile again. "Yes, we know...and we'll handle it. You're going to be okay." He might not believe that right now, but over time hopefully he would see what Nick had told her - a new normal, if it was manageable. And Rylee would make damn sure it was manageable.