Butterflies and Hurricanes

I wasn't entirely sure what I should do or say right now. Even my tears had ceased. She was sat there sobbing away to her hearts content with all these ridiculous notions in her head, she'd seen Zack, and she knew he was fine!

He'd got up and walked away from the whole thing! The only thing that showed any battle wounds were his clothes and his ruffled hair. Yes he may have a few bruises by the morning but he was fine!

Brian however...

When Zack was shot I could well have burst into a fit of tears and done nothing but worry for Brian. Instead I mopped up all of her tears; I stayed awake all night with her till she finally fell asleep. Brian didn't get much of a thought.

So now it was me who was worried and needed her tears wiping why could she only cry for herself? And since when did she seem to think I would be okay if Brian died? If Brian dies my life is over, I couldn't care less about money to get me back to London.

I stood up without looking at either of them and moved over to the door. "Where are you going?" Sarah suddenly asked, her hand on my arm. I shrugged her off and continued on my way out, closing the door behind me as I did so.

I didn't know where I was going to go, or what I wanted to do or who I wanted to see. So I walked to the ballroom to survey the damage. It wasn't a helpful idea of mine since it only made me want to cry more.

All of that hard work gone to waste, everyone’s enjoyment in tatters. This would go down well; I'm sure enemies of the Haner’s would be laughing at the misfortune right now hoping for the worst.

I crouched and picked up one of the trampled lilies from the floor, twirling it to assess its sad condition. Much like the rest of the ballroom and entrance hall I guessed, trashed and scattered with the debris. Spattered with blood and bloody paw-prints, and covered in a patchy dusting of fur lumps in varying colours giving no identity to owners.

I moved around the mess and into the entrance. The candle holder was alone, discarded amongst the shards of a former vase of Mrs Haner's. The door to the closet was bowed in on itself and hanging from its hinges; the middle where it was bent out of shape, splintered and protruding dangerously.

I looked the other way and saw the bloody rags ripped from the dress still gathered up around my knees. The bloody prints on the floor there were marred by the smudged puddle from where he had fallen back into unconsciousness.

I moved over and knelt down beside it, staring glumly. The house was much too silent and still to say we were now in the aftermath of an attack. Saying that his body was still on the floor behind me. I didn't want to look at him.

One tear rolled down my face, followed by another and I sobbed. It was rather painful and the silence only made it worse. I didn't know if anything was wrong or if everything was okay.

Where did women even stand in these situations? He was hurt, rather seriously too, so what am I supposed to do? Do I as his fiancée demand to see him or do I wait until a doctor has checked him over and given orders? Not only that but I am a human being and he is a werewolf, what's the protocol on that?!

At the first sound of footsteps I lifted my head and looked up to the top of the stairs where Zack was quickly making his way down. His former tidiness dismissed in place of no dinner jacket, no bow tie and even his top button was undone and his sleeves rolled to his elbows.

I scrabbled up onto my feet and made my way up the stairs to meet him half way up. "How is he?!" I almost demanded as I grabbed his arm to stop him moving round me.

"The doctor isn't finished with him yet," he sighed as he looked down at me.

"Well why not?" I asked impatiently. "It can't possibly take this long to figure out what is wrong with him!"

"I don't know why not, medicine isn't my forte is it?" He snapped and pursed his lips; I think I was annoying him now. Taking note of this I moved around him and hurried on up the stairs, wondering if I may be able to catch them off guard and walk straight in or if the room would be guarded to keep me out.

Not that I even knew which room it was they had taken him in. The Haner mansion was very big and it was also very easy to get lost in as I had found out the hard way. I started logically and started at the first room of the first corridor upon which my room was situated.

Once I had cleared that I went to the next and low and behold Matt was laid out across the front of a door. I stopped in my tracks and heaved a sigh when he lifted his head to consider me before resting it back down on his paws. He didn't take his eyes off me once.

Well that blew my chances right out of the water. Feeling my eyes hot up again I pushed my back against the wall and slid down it to the floor, drawing in a deep shuddering breath to release it out again as a wail.

I felt so helpless, not helped by the fact I couldn't actually think straight for long enough to decide what I could or should be doing right now. I think the fact that Matt was guarding the door was the final stab to let it all out and oh boy did it gush from me.

By rights the floor of the corridor should have been deemed dangerous for if it were water it would have flooded it and made the wood too slippery to walk upon. That aside I was making quite a spectacle of myself; all these well to-do men would wonder what on Earth Brian had got himself into.

In the time it took me to finally stop, I must have fallen asleep (or was simply too busy crying my eyes out to have noticed) because when I became aware of myself and my surroundings I was in my bed. Still in my party dress might I add.

With a sigh as I noted the closed curtains, I climbed from the bed and undressed myself so that I could slip into my nightgown. I left the first dress and all my petticoats on the floor as I removed my hairpins to let my tumultuous golden hair cascade down around my shoulders.

Once I was done I curiously moved over to a window and peeked behind the curtain. My view of the garden was lit blue by the moonlight, the night sky was clear of clouds and scattered with innumerable stars.

As pretty as it was, this wasn't what I wanted to look at. I didn't know how long it was since I had been sobbing on the floor outside of his room, but I was willing to try once more just in case. It was, I realised, a slim chance but I could hope.

With a lit candle to hand, I decided to tiptoe through the house. I was only small so my footsteps would barely make a sound at all anyway but I didn't want to take any chances. When I reached the end of the corridor, I could just make out Matt in the flickering luminescence of the candle.

He had moved away from the door to the window seat and, much too big for it anyway, had lain across the cushion at the most uncomfortable angle with his arms and legs splayed every which way. He was snoring and at this little bit of information I managed to smile. It took great effort to wake up the great Matthew Sanders; only the smell of a fight could tempt him from sleep before he was ready to come round.

Padding softly across the carpet strip down the middle, I blew the candle out the moment I was in front of the door before pushing the handle down. I opened the door, not all the way but enough for just me to slip through before closing it behind me.

Thankfully there was a candle on the table beside the bed. Its light touched him where he lay fast asleep in the bed, the covers pulled up. I could still see his bare shoulders though, or as bare as his right shoulder could be considered as strapped up as it was beneath the bandages.

I set my own extinguished candle down on the sideboard and moved over the room to stand at the side of his bed. He looked pale even in the dim light and the bandages were beginning to show flecks of blood.

Sitting on the edge of the bed I gently touched my fingers to his tender cheeks before leaning over to press a kiss to his wounded shoulder. He stirred and I sat stock still, hovering over him with my eyes fixed on his face.

One eyelid flickered and then the other till they both opened. He blinked a few times before finding my face. "Now this is much better than everyone else pulling me pillar to post," he muttered, his voice thick with sleep before finishing up with a wince.

"Shh," I whispered, brushing his hair back from his face. "Just you rest okay?"

"I'm sorry," he spoke despite my instruction.

"You have nothing to apologise for."

"I have to apologise for allowing my world to get so close to yours." He bought his good arm from underneath the covers and held my hand with his left, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. "And for letting it ruin your night."

"You can't help who you fall in love with and in that case you cannot help it when the two worlds collide," I merely answered. "It is not your fault. No one but that...man-"

"Do you understand why I don't like cats now?" He cut in, smiling lightly through his pain and discomfort. I couldn't help but smile back with a shake of my head and a tiny giggle. Then his smile disappeared and a solemn look came over him; in the light of the candle, I could see a shimmer in the corner of his right eye as his bottom lip began to tremble.

I cooed, bending over him and hugging him as best as I could. His good arm wrapped around my back and held me as tight as he could manage but I still heard the sob that escaped. "I love you," he cried into my neck, his fingers pressing into me a bit harder.

I don't know in which context it was coming from, but I knew one way or the other that this attack had scared him.

"I love you too."