Even as the pack had sat down at the dining table, awaiting dinner, Garrett had felt the tension in the air, thick and rising. It flickered through the bond that connected them, a red string of unrest, making it hard to maintain focus. Bonnie and Nathan were stationed in the other room, and before the shouting had even begun, Garrett was grinding his teeth in frustration, desperate to intervene. Of course he was the topic of conversation. Despite Bonnie's attempts at defending him, Garrett knew Nathan was right, on that singular point. He had been staring him out. The manipulative behaviour was all too familiar, and Garrett had seen it displayed by Nathan more than once, instantly setting off a prominent dislike for the man Bonnie called her husband.
Along with the irritation Garrett felt came guilt, knowing his inability to subdue his own discontent was the main cause of the argument. This time, anyway. But it was near impossible to smile in the face of a man who so closely mirrored his father. It was even harder to keep quiet, driven by a desire to protect the woman who'd helped save his life. Bonnie deserved better, she deserved to feel the safety and love that she'd continuously offered the rest of their group. Garrett knew that if this continued, he'd end up begging her to leave him, for her own good.
They're not my family. "â That's it. I'm going in there." Garrett shoved himself into standing, hands slamming down on the table, an uncharacteristic act of aggression. He'd heard enough. He wouldn't allow history to repeat itself, it was time to amend his prior mistakes. Several of the pack made motion to stop him, but Jackson was the most dominant, of course, rising himself. Although his expression remained neutral, masking the emotion Garrett knew he felt, his eyes flashed a deep shade of red, asserting his dominance. Jackson didn't say a word, and still Garrett slumped back into his chair, reaching over to his left to take Allie's hand, instead. It was the only way he knew how to ground himself. "He can't talk to her like that. Do something," he pleaded, leg furiously shaking underneath the table.
Sensing Garrett's desperation, his discomfort, Jackson nodded in defeat, turning to face the kitchen. Until Bonnie's voice rose louder, her pain cutting through the bond like a blade, stunting them all in place. The heated conversation had reached it's conclusion, and yet there was no relief in it. Nathan was the only source of the pack's unhappiness, and if they hadn't known it before, they did now. Bonnie's relationship was her business, her decisions were her business, and whilst Garrett respected that, he was finding it increasingly difficult to understand it. It seemed Jackson was the only one who did. Ignoring the gazes of his peers this time, Garrett followed Bonnie out of the house the second he heard the door open, meeting her on the front step. "â I won't bother asking if you're okay. I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry."
Having only recently become bonded to the pack, Allie was still very much adjusting to the foreign and fluctuating emotions, and she became overwhelmed much more often than she was used to. She didn't regret her decision, not for a second â she trusted Jackson with her life, and more importantly, with the lives of those she'd come to call family. But that didn't mean it wasn't a lot. Garrett and Malia's intense emotions were tricky to handle even when she had been on her own, but now that she felt them within her own heart, she carried so much more empathy and fear than she could ever have imagined. The moment the ceremony had ended, she knew she would live through any discomfort and shoulder any burden if it meant being tied to them forever, for the bond had only made her love them more. That night at Bonnie's put her vow to the test, Allie struggling to work out who the emotions were coming from, what they all meant, and if that even mattered. The tension at dinner was growing, and Allie didn't need a bond to spot Bonnie's discomfort, her tight smile, the way she tensed up every time Nathan made remarks at the table.
She'd never thought much of Nathan personally. She found his humour distasteful and often ill-timed, he didn't seem to contribute much in the way of parenting, and considering how much she idolised Bonnie, Allie never understood them as a romantic match. Even at surface level, Bonnie was gorgeous and kind, and Nathan was neither of those things. But she'd never vocalised it, her respect for the woman that had helped saved their lives too great. Bonnie didn't seem like someone who would keep choosing something she didn't want, so Allie was left with the conclusion that she must want Nathan, and that was her right. But she could tell the rest of the pack also struggled to understand that decision, even if they'd never talked about it. Even Jon, who was arguably the most introverted and observant of their group, wasn't impressed with whatever was going on in the kitchen, one of his eyebrows raised. Bonnie and Nathan were now in there alone, apparently having a conversation everyone but Allie could hear, and without that particular skill, she was left only with a churning anxiety in her stomach, and a growing frustration in her chest. Nervous, Allie leant closer to Garrett, her question barely a whisper. "G? What's going on?"
He didn't answer but he didn't have to. Now that Allie was watching him, she noticed his discomfort immediately. She chided herself for asking when he was so clearly struggling, and for some reason, looking at him helped her connect the dots in her own gut, now able to identify what feelings were his. He felt guilty, she was sure of it. Allie's eyes creased with concern, now assuming the conversation she couldn't hear was about him. Sure, his dislike for Nathan was obvious, but she couldn't understand why that was suddenly an issue tonight. It wasn't new, and nothing had happened tonight to flare tensions. Nothing, except, Nathan's attitude. Allie glanced at his abandoned spot at the table, at the remnants of beer in his glass. No doubt he'd had a lot more than the few they'd seen him consume. Allie's frown grew as she thought about it, unaware her own anger was being flared by the pack around her, when suddenly Garrett's hands met the table.
Allie jumped in her seat, caught unawares by the action, but it only took her a moment to recover before she was trying to reach for him. "Garrett," she shook her head, knowing it wasn't a good idea to involve himself in whatever was happening behind the wall. His guilt deeply worried her and she knew it would consume him if they didn't steer him away. Thankfully, Jackson quickly intervened, and even without direct eye contact, Allie felt chills run down her spine at the deep red of his eyes. Now back by her side, Garrett finally accepted her hand, and Allie held on tight, trying to ground them both and keep him sitting. To her surprise, he spoke up again, this time pleading with Jackson. To her dismay, his single request confirmed the story she'd already come up with, and Allie sighed, chest heavy. Then came the yelling.
"Oh my god," she murmured in the deafening silence that followed Bonnie's departure. As it often had since the ceremony, the pack's collective emotion choked her, and tears began to fall from Allie's eyes. For a moment, she felt frozen, unsure what to do first, who to look after first. She still held onto Garrett's hand, but before she could even react, he was gone from her grasp, and a moment later, she blinked, his departure bringing herself back to the present. She didn't think it had been the right move for Garrett, Allie very protective of him and what she knew was going to be a spiral of self-blame, but she could address that with him later.
Swiping at her eyes, she turned to Skye, who'd gotten out of her chair herself and was now staring, pale, in the direction of the front door. It broke Allie's heart. Knowing Bonnie would need a moment, she spoke up, gentle. "Skye? Hey. Mummy's okay, alright? She just needs to get something from outside. She'll be back in soon." The girl didn't look convinced, but it was the best Allie could come up with after they'd all just heard her mother yelling. "Do you think - maybe you can show me your room? I haven't seen it yet." It took a few more tries, but Skye finally conceded, leading Allie upstairs. Obviously, she was glad to help, but she couldn't deny she wanted out of that room herself, the emotion overwhelming.
Sucking in the cold air, Bonnie let out the sobs she'd been holding back inside, allowing herself to cry for a minute. She didn't often make room for her heavier emotions, capturing and saving them deep down until they were all stacked so high they had nowhere else to go but out. With years of abuse to account for, it was far easier to just continue on through life without ever checking in. That was how she made it as a doting mother, as a wife to a man she barely liked, as a loyal friend who took on everybody else's burdens. Experiencing turmoil like this was so rare, in fact, that she immediately wanted to run from it, run away from her home, her responsibilities, her promises, and never look back. The discomfort was unbearable. Through her tears, Bonnie stared down the street, past what she could see, into the murky distance, and every instinct screamed at her to go, to disappear into that nothingness. But she remained stunted in place because of one thing â her daughter.
With the realisation that Skye would have heard what had just gone down between her and Nathan, Bonnie doubled over once more, regret and sorrow consuming her. She wanted to go to her child but Skye couldn't see her mother like this. Couldn't see what her dad had done. It was too much. Knowing the pack would have her back, would look after her daughter when she couldn't, Bonnie remained rooted in place instead, unable to step into the night but also unable to step back inside. She heard the door swing open, and with all her senses currently preoccupied, all she could do was hope it wasn't Nathan. Thankfully, it wasn't.
He didn't come into her view, not at first, but Bonnie confirmed it was Garrett the second he spoke, and her guilt only doubled, for of course he also would have heard every single word that had been shared. It only worsened her sense of embarrassment, of shame. She should've kept it under wraps and dealt with it privately, like she always had. Bringing her entire pack into her marriage had never been the plan, and now she felt exposed and vulnerable. For someone who did nothing but run from her trauma, she hated it.
Hearing his apology, Bonnie felt a sob spasm her ribs, and she shook her head defiantly, turning to him. She wouldn't allow him to carry this, this was her marriage and her burden. "No. No, sweetie, it's not your fault." Bonnie had wanted to make sure he understood that, had to make sure he would let it go, but meeting his eyes and seeing the guilt there only made her feel worse, so she pulled him in for a hug instead.
" â I'm sorry," she whispered. "I shouldn't have.. encouraged it, even brought it up. It's the drink, you know?" Pulling back, she wiped her eyes, willing herself to settle. Enough, now. "He starts running his mouth, he goes looking for a fight. I should have just - left it alone. That's all this was. Garrett, this had nothing to do with you."
