They settled down in the debris, for once neither of them complaining. "Brings back memories, eh?"
He snorted. "You say that like it's a good thing."
"It is," she said, ignoring his startled expression. "It was nice not to be the only fucked up person around here."
After deciding he lacked the energy it took to be pissed he simply raised his eyebrows in response. "I can never quite tell whether you're joking or not."
"Sometimes neither can I," she admitted honestly. "I remember after my dad died I went and saw this one shrink. He said I compensate with bad humour."
"For what?"
She shrugged. "My awful personality? Depression and all that shit? Beats me."
"Maybe."
"Of course, I could just be naturally snarky."
"So you're not depressed?"
"I dunno. Maybe. Maybe not."
"You ever... thought that perhaps it would be easier if you just gave up?"
"Never." The word seemed to hang in the air around them for a short eternity. Somehow that answer, so calm and definite, was even scarier than the alternative. From the way she spoke they both knew she'd considered it, once. Twice. Countless times, perhaps. But no, she was still here, on her own terms. And this was Leah Clearwater you were talking about, not some shy young girl who was going to muddle through life without getting anything out of it. If she was still here, that meant she thought there was something she should stay for.
There was so much he wanted to ask her. Is it even possible to see something worth fighting for in the same world in which you've lived through twenty one years of shit? If so, what? Who? Why?
In the end, though, he didn't really care. She was here, and his life was better for it. Instead he simply said: "Good," and that easy, honest, semi-affection made her smile.
"Thanks," she whispered, and in an effort to lighten the tone, she quickly replaced it with a smirk. "That's the nicest thing you've said to me all night, you know?"
"What can I say? I'm feeling generous. Now sleep, we're patrolling early tomorrow."
"I forgot how uncomfortable it is out here at night," she commented, for once not whining about it like she normally would have.
He knew it would be easier on both of their bodies if they changed, but for some reason neither wanted to be in the other's mind overnight. "Come here," he sighed, motioning to the relatively agreeable piece of ground next to him.
She grumbled a bit as she lay down, but surprised herself by letting her body relax- for the first time in months- practically in her alpha's arms.
"This is weirdly... not weird," he said, half to himself.
"Speak for yourself," swiped a voice muffled by various woodland debris, and before he closed his eyes he had to stifle a laugh.
Thanks for reading 3