I took a shuddered breath, groaning as I took off my shirt. I woke up in my father's office on the couch. A pile of clean clothes sat on the coffee table, and I didn't need to guess why they'd been brought in. I stunk. The smoke from the fire permanently ruined my clothes. After changing, I ignored my desire to fall back asleep and walked towards the office door. I opened the door to my father's office and stepped into the hallway. Drew and Sarah sat on the floor, both silent. They jumped up upon my appearance and Sarah handed me a water bottle with a small smile. As I cracked open the lid, I looked between them.
"How is everyone?" I asked, feeling the discomfort in my throat.
"Dad is badly hurt. He has some small burns, cuts, and a ton of bruising. Two or three large gashes on his body. Not sure where they came from," Drew explained to me.
"Where is he?"
"His bedroom."
I started up the stairs but felt instantly weak in my legs. I held onto the railing tightly, helping pull me up the stairs. Sarah and Drew stayed behind me, making sure I didn't fall backwards. I stopped in the open doorway of my father's room. The air was tense. Aaron, Cora, and Nicole filled my father's room. Nicole sat at the edge of his bed, wiping his forehead with a wet cloth. Charlie looked ill, face flushed and covered in sweat.
"Why does he look so bad?" I asked in a low voice. Aaron's head raised from his hands where he sat on a rocking chair in the corner. Aaron's face was stained with soot that he hadn't washed off yet. I wondered if I looked similar.
"The fire burned the edges of his cuts; they won't heal as quickly as they should. That's why he and Brandon started changing but couldn't get anywhere with it. He's unconscious for now. We sedated him."
I moved beside Nicole and started to the bandages on his upper body. A particularly large bandage on his collar bone looked dirty, starting to turn red. I looked up at Cora.
"Pass me some clean bandages."
"It's okay sweetheart," she said, coming up beside the bed, "you go check on James."
I looked at her, confused. Check on James? He seemed fine when I was with him in the forest, other than being unconscious. The expressions of everyone in the room show stress and guilt.
A knot dropped like a rock in my stomach. His door was open too and I had no time to prepare for what I was going to see. The left side of James' face and most of his forehead wrapped up. He wasn't wearing a shirt and his upper body was covered in bandages too. I didn't notice I'd moved closer until I instinctively knelt beside his head. I ran my fingers through the ends of his hair. I did my best not to catch my fingers in any knots or dried blood. Burn marks and little cuts scattered across his torso and face. I hadn't seen any of this in the forest. I should have moved quicker to get him out of there.
My head turned sharply, the sound of the floorboards creaking behind me. Kurtis leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed. He had a few minor scrapes on his face but other than that, he looked tired. It appeared he'd washed his face and cleaned his cuts up.
"How are you?" I asked him. Kurtis shrugged, sitting on James' desk chair.
"Tired and sore but I'm living. You?"
"Living," I chuckled. I tried not to wince at the pain in my throat. I needed another drink of water. I ran my thumb across James's forehead bandage. His head moved in his sleep.
"How long was I asleep for?" I asked.
Kurtis looked at his watch, "two hours."
"Is the fire out yet?"
"The fire department already came by. They asked if we'd seen anything, and I told them that we saw the smoke and called 911."
I nodded, staring at the bandage on James' forehead.
"Have you had anything to eat since you woke up?" Kurtis asked. I rubbed my forehead, wincing as my fingers hit an open cut. The stinging set off a headache.
"No, I came upstairs to check on everyone," I stood up, "I need to go check on Brandon."
A shot of pain went through my head, causing my body to tip as I stood. I felt Kurtis's hands grab my shoulders.
"You can check on him after you've eaten something. Brandon is already awake and begging for attention anyways. We don't want to give into the child's demands."
I smirked, the dizziness falling away. Closing the door to James' bedroom, Kurtis updated me that Aaron and Tyler made the executive call to bring in the rest of the Pack. We had to suspect it was Carrey not keeping to the agreement.
"We're going to have to clean the cottage up," I said, wincing as we walked down the stairs, "make it look less like a frat house."
Entering the kitchen, I paused at the unexpected old man sitting at the counter. His full head of salt and pepper hair made him look younger from behind.
"Lawrence?"
The man looked over his shoulder. Lawrence Oxborr was the eldest Pack member. Along with his two sons, Tony, and Matthew, they were spread out across the Western provinces of Canada. Other than Chrissy, they were the only living Pack members living there. Lawrence stood, putting down his coffee and opened his arms. I limped over to him and gave the old man a hug.
"How did you get here so quickly?" I asked, placing my aching body into a chair at the breakfast table.
"I was in western Ontario, interviewing for a job. Not that long of a trip I guess," Lawrence explained, placing a bag on to the table beside me. I recognized the bag. I don't think in my whole life Lawrence ever owned another medical bag. The older man gave me a pointed look once I'd looked away from the bag.
"I'm fine," I said, trying to stand up. Lawrence pushed me down by the shoulder which wasn't difficult. I let out a grunt. It was too hard to fight against him.
"Nice try. I heard you inhaled a decent amount of smoke. I can still hear you wheezing," Lawrence mumbled.
Over the next ten minutes, Lawrence gave me a check-up, focusing on my airways. Lawrence confirmed what I already knew that I was fine, with the prescription of rest and bandages to heal.
Other than the three on bed rest, everyone sat in the living room eating the take-out we'd ordered. The last members from out of town had arrived. I'd curled up in an armchair, exhaustion still stuck with me from the fire the other day. I didn't have much to say, so I listened to the conversations around me instead. Didn't matter what was happening around us, the Pack as a whole, never shut up.
My gaze stopped on a pair close together, whispering their conversation. Nicole was leaning towards Luke, listening intently to whatever his story was. My sister smiled at him, a look familiar to me. It was the one I used while flirting. I felt like a pillow hit me in the face with realization. How hadn't I noticed my sister flirting with a boy who was at our house almost daily? I turned to Cora with my eyes wide. She was already watching them, a small smile of satisfaction on her face. In her eyes was a peace I hadn't seen within the Pack since before Stella's accident. Mentally I roamed upstairs as I thought about the two youngest flirting. I stood, giving my half full plate to my twin, no questions asked about the free food.
After making up another plate, I took my time wandering up to the second floor. I opened James's bedroom door quietly. It was a mute point; he was sitting up in bed, reading a book. James put the book down and watched me put the plate on his side table. I sat down on the mattress carefully, afraid to disturb any injuries.
I leaned forward and placed a light kiss on his lips. James put a hand on the back of my head, holding the kiss for longer. When he pulled away, James looked down and laughed.
"Is that my sweater?"
I tugged at the fabric, "Yeah, I think so. I dropped Nicole at school earlier and grabbed the first sweater I saw in my room."
James chuckled, "I shouldn't be surprised."
James leaning his head back against his pillows with a grunt. I was glad the bandages around his head were gone. His forehead was still scratched up, inflamed, and scabbing over. It looked like he went face first through a leafless bush. Cora had gotten most of the debris out but once Lawrence arrived, they'd worked as a team to clean out the rest. What I could see of his torso wounds looked painful but running my hand down it, I could feel the scabs. It was a relief that he was healing. Like my father's, his wounds were burnt around the edges. Lawrence said he'd never seen it before, and it almost looked intentional. I quickly became angry at the thought. I examined his upper torso, looking for any missed injuries, feeling his eyes watching me.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
The words caused a laugh to bubble out of me, confusing him.
"I'm really bad at this," I said, "Everyone keeps asking me that when I should be the one asking. I'm not as injured as you."
James laughed at my self criticism, his long hair falling in his face.
"How are you feeling?" I poked his shoulder.
"Tired and my chest is sore. Head, not so much. I'm on a lot of pain killers though. Lawrence pumped me full. I'm getting restless though," he admitted. I bit down on my bottom lip lightly, trying not to laugh at his list of complaints. The look he was giving me, I knew he wanted me to break him out.
"If your wounds are healed more tomorrow, I'll take you for a walk. I promise." James rolled his eyes at my meagre promise of a walk.
"I want to go for a run. Something where I can use my whole body or run on all fours. Instead, I'm lying in bed with the promise of a walk as a boring human," James grumbled, "Lawrence said I won't be able to change without ripping these damn stitches open for at least two weeks."
Nodding at all the right moments but not exactly listening, I picked up the plate of food and placed a piece of bread in my mouth. I knew he wouldn't last two weeks. James abruptly stopped complaining.
"Was that food not for me?"
"It was," I shrugged, "but you wouldn't shut up."
James jerked forward, grabbing for it but suddenly stopped, groaning loudly at his action and the pain it caused him. I placed the stuffed fork in my mouth, laughing quietly at his pain.
"Idiot."
"I thought you were supposed to be taking care of me, not insulting me."
I shrugged, holding out a piece of chicken, "I am taking care of you, but you're also an idiot."
James shrugged and rolled his eyes, wordlessly agreeing with me. We sat, me feeding James and him enjoying the treatment.
James sighed, "Ashlyn, I'm tired. Will you take a nap with me, please?"
I rolled my eyes at my best friend's whiny voice. I put the plate back onto his nightstand and slipped myself under the sheets, careful not to disturb James's form. Usually, I would've automatically snuggled up to him, but I stayed on the opposite pillow. The familiar scent that came off the pillow with the light sounds of James's breathing slid me into a sleepy state.