👀 Can we get a scene of Tara introducing the baby to the wolf?
It is my right, growls a voice inside her head. “You have no right,” Sam responds, agitated by the constant demands from the beast. It scares her, how desperate it is to meet Annie. She fears what it means. The wolf inside of her has demanded to meet many people since it began to manifest its own voice inside of her, a year and a half ago. None of them survived to meet their next sunrise.
She won't let it near Tara's daughter. She'll tear herself apart before she gives it an opportunity to touch the girl.
She is mine, it declares. Sam can feel the anger radiating from the beast at her continued denials, but it is nothing compared to her own. How dare it? How dare it try to claim something that belongs to her?
“She's not yours,” Sam hisses through grit teeth, careful to keep her voice low. Tara's just in the other room feeding Annie, and she won't have her disturbed. Again. She doesn't need her to worry, Sam will take care of this. She always does. “You are nothing, just a parasite hitching a ride inside my brain, like my father. He became a nuisance and I found a way to get rid of him, so mind your tongue or I'll do the same to you.”
The beast huffs, but doesn't continue to argue. Sam sighs in relief. It gets more and more vocal by the day, and she doesn't know what to do about it. It always has more to say around the full moon, and this month especially. But given what happened last cycle, perhaps it makes sense. Maybe once tonight is over she'll finally get some peace and quiet. For a while, at least.
Sam glances out the kitchen window at the soon-to-be setting sun. She needs to make a move now if she wants to be far away from here by the time the moon rises. And she does.
Despite her anxiety over the situation, Sam still takes a moment to pause in the doorway and watch her sister feed the baby.
Tara's seemed... different, since she came along. Happier, in a way. Calmer. Sam thinks she might be different too. Anika was an accident, but she might just be the best mistake they've ever made.
Walking forward, Sam rests her hands on the back of the couch and drops a kiss to the top of Tara's head. She reaches forward to run a hand over the downy hair on Annie's and leans over to kiss her as well.
“How are my favourite girls doing?” she asks, unable to hide the affection that laces every word. Not that she would want to. She never wants Tara to doubt how much she loves her, never again. Annie will never doubt how much she is loved.
Tara reaches up to leave a kiss of her own to Sam's jaw. “We're just as fine as we were half an hour ago,” she teases with a wide smile. It twitches, weakening as she takes in Sam's face, gaze lingering on the tightness of her expression and the white knuckle grip she has on the couch.
“It's still bothering you, isn't it?” she asks quietly. Sam doesn't respond, Tara already knows the answer. Her eyes flick between the window and her sister. She hates the way Tara's face drops as she catches the movement.
“Already?”
“It's safer this way, it's already restless. I don't want to be caught off guard too close to home.”
“I just wish you didn't have to do this alone.”
Sam moves around the couch and drops to one knee in front of her sister. “I'm never alone. Even when we're apart, I always feel you with me,” she says softly, eyes never leaving Tara's. It leaves her sister speechless. Sam takes the opportunity to make her escape now, before Tara says something that only makes it harder to leave.
Standing up, she cups Tara's face and leaves a kiss on her brow. “Don't try and wait up for me, you need your rest,” she declares. Turning to the baby, she gives her another kiss too. “Be good for your mother.” Annie just blinks up at her without recognition.
Sam forces herself back. She needs to leave, no matter how much she would rather spend the evening with her girls in her arms.
The wolf inside of her tries to reach back, pushing at her chest, desperate. It makes her spin on her heel and head for the door, every step away feels agonising. Pulling open the door, she resists the urge to look back. “Don't forget to lock the door,” she reminds her sister, a familiar routine.
“I won't,” Tara replies, as always. She sighs at the click of the door as Sam closes it behind her. She misses her already.
“It's just you and me tonight,” she murmurs sadly to the girl in her arms.
They've rarely been apart since Sam came back into her life. At first it was Sam's way of making it up to her, overcompensating for five years of loneliness by never leaving her side. Now it's nothing less than a want, a need. Sam's always said that her life began the moment Tara was born, and she thinks it must be true, because she knows now that Sam is the other half of her heart. She finally understands the heart-wrenching loneliness that almost tore her apart when Sam left. They were meant to be together.
She regrets that she couldn't appreciate the effort back then, too caught up in her own head, in trying to pretend everything was normal, in trying to be normal. It all seems so stupid now. She regrets not being able to appreciate Sam more when she needed her support, but she'll never regret what it led to, how it's freed her – freed Sam. It changed their lives for the better, the girl in her arms is evidence of that.
Tara's kicked out of her thoughts with a foot to the chest. She manages to pull her arms back just in time to miss a little fist flying for her too.
“What happened to being good for mommy?” she asks the fussing baby. Annie only whines in response, squirming in her arms. “I guess you didn't actually agree, did you?”
She stretches out her legs before getting up off the couch and taking her for a walk around the apartment, bouncing her arms in a way that never fails to calm Annie down. Except tonight it seems.
“You miss her too, huh?” she sighs, stopping at the window and looking out into the night. Sam says she can always feel her with her, Tara wishes she could say the same.
-
Something about tonight's change feels wrong. She's not far enough away, she realises too late. The thought coincides with her head snapping in the direction of home. It's like a beacon calling to her and she begins to move against her wishes. Sam struggles with her limbs as they move on their own. Her mouth growls, but it's not her voice. Home now, it says. No, she snarls back. The wolf doesn't listen. It drives her back, wrestles control over the body from her.
Sam doesn't think she's ever felt so out of control. It's been so long since she's felt this helpless.
This is her fault, she thinks. She got cocky, overconfident. She thought nothing could touch her.
If anything happens to her girls, if she does anything to them, she'll never forgive herself.
-
It's dark inside the building. Not even the moons piercing glow can breach the thick curtains caging the window. It's not right, but sometimes the absence of a blessing is one in itself. The dearth of its guiding light allows this one to violate the sanctum.
The tenacious one knows nothing of what she's truly capable of, knows nothing of what they are capable of. She's passionate but doesn't know how to listen very well. It has much to teach her, so it has to make her listen. It must make a demonstration.
It can hear its victims steady heartbeats. It's own heart races with anticipation as it skulks towards them, body near invisible in the darkness of the room.
-
Tara jolts awake in an instant, gasping. She was having a nightmare, she thinks. The details quickly fade from her mind, but the feeling of terror remains. She feels watched. Hunted. It unnerves her.
Rolling over, Tara reaches into the bassinet beside her to pick up Annie and pull her close. The baby sleeps through the movement, much to her relief. She doesn't want to disturb her just because she had a silly nightmare, but she needs her in her arms. It soothes her nerves, knowing Annie's safe in her embrace.
She turns back to Sam, intent on cuddling into her as she always does when she wakes up scared, before she remembers that Sam isn't here tonight.
The memory of Sam walking out the door sets her back on edge, arms tightening around her daughter on reflex. The dip in the mattress beside her is usually nothing to note, just a reminder that she's safe and her sister is here beside her.
Now it's an alarm bell screeching in her ears.
She holds her breathe, frozen. That's when she hears the panting, notices the prescence beside her. It's familiar, yet not.
The wolf begins to move, now noticed. It leans towards her, hot breathe blowing against the side of her face.
This isn't Sam, something inside of her screams.
The beast lurches forward, snapping its jaw near her ear. Tara hates the way she whimpers, curling up to protect Anika. She doesn't want it to know she's scared. It's still a part of Sam, how can she fear any part of her?
"Please," she whispers as it growls. She can feel the way it moves around her, fur brushing against her bare arms, reaching, grabbing.
The wolf has always claimed Tara as its own. They feared how it may react to another claiming her too, even before it began to show interest in the baby.
"Don't hurt her."
Her voice is edged with desperation, tears beginning to fall.
It doesn't like that, and snaps again, nipping at her shoulder, snarling all the while.
The beast steps back, reevaluating as it watches the girl only draw away, hiding the pup further. It cannot treat prey like a predator, it thinks.
It barks and lays down, pinning its intended's legs with their own, head resting on its paws. It means them no harm, as she fears, but it has no way to communicate this with a human. The moon only knows its host would never allow them the opportunity to speak through them, only to. It laments this fact, for it has so much to say to their packmates.
The thought has the wolf whimpering.
The noise makes Tara peek up from between her arms and legs. She meets the curious silver eyes peering up at her, and feels reassured.
This still isn't Sam, but it is familiar. She's met this wolf before, been protected by it before. It makes her fear dull.
Relaxing, Tara begins to reveal the baby to the wolf once again. Its ears perk up, tail beginning to wag.
It shuffles forward, pausing to look up at Tara, concerned it may scare her away again. She bites her lip, considering, before lowering her arms.
Annie's awake now, disturbed by the nighttime interruption, sleepy brown eyes staring up at the two of them.
She lets out a yawn, and the wolf immediately nudges forward to nose at her. The movement makes Tara flinch, and it draws back, waiting.
A hand on its head gives it the confirmation its been waiting for, and it finally gets to meet their newest packmember.
"Gentle," she warns, and if it could roll its eyes, it would. It's no fool, it knows the pup is fragile, weak and in need of protection. It's been trying all month! Its host has been so selfish, keeping it locked away. It needs to mark the pup as pack, so others know she's claimed.
Tara watches the beast nuzzle her daughter. She feels stupid now, seeing how careful it is with her. How could she have ever thought any part of Sam would hurt her daughter? Sam may doubt herself, but Tara never should.
She won't make that mistake again.
The wolf finishes scent marking Anika and moves on to Tara instead, taking her off guard.
"I smell just fine," she grumbles pushing the massive head away with one hand, the other cradling Annie in her lap.
It just grabs at her hand, catching it between teeth and weaving its tongue between her fingers.
