. . . Sweet Dreams
-By Yo-yo
Disclaimer: I do own Wolf Lake . . . wait, what did you say? The price for liars is . . . eternal damnation? Really? Ok, that's what I thought you said. Yeah, guys I don't own Wolf Lake, but if you loved me enough you'd just give it to me (don't get any dirty thoughts from the latter, that statement was totally kosher!).
A/N: hey babes, yeah I know I haven't updated in a WHOLE week, but I just couldn't. Suddenly teachers are starting to teach us stuff, and then giving us tests on it like we really care! I literally had at least one test per day this week. It was torture. I have figured out from this week that junior year will truly suck, but I'm thinking for running as class secretary, but if I do, then I'll probably have no time for this anymore. Not half an hour ago I arrived back from rowing practice, and I know tomorrow my muscles will hurt so much that I'll be crying like a three year old. Plus like they're redoing our bathroom, so I can't shower, so I'm stinking up the den from all the sweat I've worked up from gym and rowing, I bet you could even smell the reek from wherever you are!
Sorry if my updates take longer, but I'm falling back in my English class. We're reading The Scarlet Letter, and I haven't come up with any new questions to annoy my teacher, so I gotta' catch up or she'll suspect that her favorite aggravator isn't doing her job. Plus we're starting The Crucible next week, but I've got the weekends to type, although that only means I've got Sundays, 'cuz I've got practice and friends Saturday, and even then I gotta' do hw, so hope if I run for officer that I lose, 'cuz that's what I'm hoping, and if I do win, I will have to shoot myself from all the work. Ttfn (ta ta for now- Tigger) ULTIMATE ROWING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BRING WOLF LAKE BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
. . . Sweet Dreams -By Yo-yo
With his eyes clenched shut, he tried to control his breathing. His head was perched atop his arms and his body lay numb as he sat on the Victorian styled embroidered couch. Sitting quietly, he let the silent battle of a gazillion emotions whiz around in his head.
His father was dead.
Willard Cates, Alpha of the pack for over twenty years, was found murdered in cold blood in the enchanted woods that he strove for so long to preserve. He was slowly dying of cancer, while limping on an injured leg, and yet some selfish bastard still felt the need to take him away before anyone could prepare.
He wasn't ready yet.
He wasn't ready for the man who'd taught him to play baseball and do everything that had substance in his life to leave. He'd just recovered from the shock that he was dying and that they had only a few months left with him. He couldn't imagine that his father would leave him before he was prepared to let go. His father wouldn't leave him to take care not only of his wife and white-wolfed daughter, but also the position of Alpha, which he knew, he wasn't ready for.
He didn't know enough.
He was sorry for all the times that he'd gone out with Prestley or anyone else from the Brat Pack without even thinking once to spend time with his dying father. He was sorry that the other sex had more of his attention than the man who was supposed to help him gain the power that not only he deserved but needed. He was sorry that he didn't tell his father about Sophia, or school, or anything when he could have. He'd spent so many nights with his father, Luke doing homework, and his father reading one of the classics, lined up on the walls of the magnificent library, not speaking at all, just pondering on his own.
He wasn't ready for this whole ordeal. He wanted his father back. He wanted the man who taught him all about nature and the circle of life to return to him. He wanted his father to be there when he graduated from Wolf Lake High. He wanted his father to give him a hug and pat his back, and tell him quietly that he loved him and he was proud of him. He wanted his dad to be at his wedding when his mate for life, the new Alpha female, would be bound to him not only in Pack law, but under the sacred laws of man. He wanted to see his dad at every milestone in his life, even at the birth of his first son, or daughter. Raising the young pup to the Alpha senior, and watching the old age-creased face light up brightly, erasing all the sadness of his life, replacing it with the pure joy of this new life. He wanted his dad to be there always . . . forever.
But those dreams would have to lay unfulfilled. Even before tonight, when his father was alive, all those hopes for him and his father sat on a dusty shelf, never to be touched. His father was slowly dying of cancer, and nothing, no matter how dominant the wolf gene was in his veins, would be able to correct the damage that it had already caused.
Opening his eyes, he looked at his mother. She didn't look like the strong, assertive, Vivian Cates that normally sat beside her husband at Pack meetings with her face controlled and emotionless. Her shoulder length blonde hair led deep trails as if she'd run her hands through it repeatedly. Her azure eyes were an unusual color of almost black, rimmed red from all the crying she'd done. Her rosy complexion of good health had faded, and all she was left with was the ghostly pale shell of her being. The make-up that was meant to accentuate her beautiful features seemed to magnify the immense sadness consuming her, making her look like a twisted clown.
Her stylishly cut, royal blue satin blouse and her Brook's Brother's sharply creased khaki pants were rumpled and hung on her like a tent. Her long legs were pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. Clasped in her small hands was a crystal glass holding an amber liquid. Her chin sat on her knees as she looked past the lavishly decorated chamber into a place that he knew not.
Closing his eyes again, her drew himself back into the quiet world where his dad still presided, and everything was as it should be. Reality slipped further from his outstretched hand, letting his memories of the way things used to be flood into his mind as everything else faded away.
Faintly he could hear the sound of a truck coming down the road. It seemed to have been speeding because it screeched to a halt nearby. The doors opened, two sets of footsteps dropped, and the doors closed again. Before he could actually register what was happening, he heard the front door swing open so forcefully that it slammed against the wall and rebounded back to the assailant.
Soon the scent of apprehension invaded the large room, stilling the air.
"Matt!" he heard his mother turn, her voice trembling.
"Vivian?" he asked walking straight for her. "Yeah, how are you doing?"
"Why'd they have to do it? he was such a good man! He had family and the Pack to protect, why couldn't they just wait? God, why did they have to take him from me so early?"
Sensing another person in the room, he opened his eyes. Looking up at the figure standing there, and wasn't sure what to think. Were his eyes playing with him, was he still asleep? There was no way that this could be real.
Standing behind Sheriff Donner, unsurely, was the one person that he needed and didn't expect to actually show up.
"Sophia?" He asked lifting himself from his seat, his eyes wide with disbelief.
She looked as if she'd just woken up. She was wearing her Dad's old WLSD hoodie and plaid boxers. On her feet were old sneakers with no socks on. Her long hair was tousled atop her head, and her eyes were heavy lidded. She looked as if she'd just jumped from the bed, pulling on the hoodie and sneakers.
"I'm sorry." She whispered softly, her own eyes sparkling with unshed tears.
Walking steadily, they both met somewhere in the middle. Needing no words to express themselves, they wrapped their arms around one another, comforting each other with their warmth.
Burying his face in her neck, he let his warm breath tickle her skin and caress her ear. Her eyes closed almost involuntarily as she listened to his blood coursing through his veins and felt his heart thumping against her chest. A small smile curled her lips as she felt him press his lips against her skin.
"I'm so sorry."
"I wasn't ready yet." He whispered so lowly that only she could hear him.
"I know." She sighed gently stroking his blonde hair.
"I mean, I knew about the cancer, and I knew he was going to die, but I wasn't ready to give him up yet. I thought he'd be there for all the important things in my life. I wanted him to be there for everything that was important to me!" he cried, holding her more tightly.
"I felt that way."
"Does it ever go away?" he muttered, letting a tear cascade down his cheek.
"The hurt?"
"Yeah, it's so painful. I wanted to do so much with him; be the son that he'd be proud of, tell him things that only he could help me with, and now all that time has been lost."
"He was like my second father." She whispered, sadness dripping thickly in her voice like cream.
"He loved you like a daughter." He replied, no vestige of a lie anywhere near his voice.
"The hurt will go away eventually." She sighed placing a soft kiss to his chest.
"How? I need you to help me. I need to be strong."
"I don't know what to say." She sighed, the tears finally slipping from their ducts. "I've never been on this side of the conversation before."
"Don't say anything then." He whispered gently stroking her back.
"Guys, I'm going to speak to Matt, so go upstairs." Vivian smiled weakly, interrupting their intimate conversation.
Hearing the voice invade their quiet world, they broke apart, both facing their steely-faced parents.
"Vivian?" Matt sighed worriedly.
"Matt they're not going to do anything." Vivian insisted shooing them upstairs.
Nodding his approval, they headed upstairs without a word.
As they entered Luke's room, he closed the door behind him. She turned to face him, her eyes full or worry.
"Are you ok?"
Walking past her to his bed, he sat down without acknowledging that she'd even spoken.
Not knowing what to do, she sat beside him, staring out into space. No words were uttered as they sat in each other's company, only the knowledge that the other was there, comforted them.
She reached out and grasped his hand amongst the stillness. He didn't look at her as he intertwined their fingers together, holding hers more tightly. She could feel him trembling beside her. The gentle shiver of the bed and his staccato breathing was giving away all the emotion that he omitted to show.
Turning to him, she finally asked,
"What can I do? I want to help you, I just don't know how. Tell me what to do, I'll do anything."
Turning to her, his emerald eyes surveyed her as if he were scrutinizing an expensive vase. Her dark brown ones were filled with a sincere need to help him. She wanted to take some of the pain from his heart and help him bear it.
No one in his whole life had ever wanted to help him like that. No one had ever truly cared about how he felt and how scared he was. He was the future Alpha to them, and nothing else seemed to matter.
Before taking a moment to contemplate his actions, he leaned over and placed a kiss to her lips. The first kiss was soft, like a small trickle of wind swept past her, causing her long wisps of auburn curls to lift, almost like feathers and dance around her like butterflies. As they reveled in its sweet intensity, they never lost the sheer innocence as they passionately savored the taste and feel of each other. Their lips pressed to each other, and deep sighs both escaped their lips.
Soon his tongue began to trace the outlines of her lips, begging for entry. Before long they were both trembling as his hands moved around her waist settling her on his lap while her hands had mysteriously found themselves lost in his blonde hair; not wanting to be separated from his lips and their breathless kisses.
Pulling her hoodie over her head, he let his hands roam over her thighs as she softly moaned into his kisses. They were both totally lost in their emotions as he began to run his hands over the soft skin under her tank top, caressing closer and closer to her sensitive breasts.
His fingers came in contact with the responsive flesh and she arched to his touch, causing her lips to break away from the kiss. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she felt herself lying in a pool of bliss.
This felt so good, only problem was, it didn't feel right.
Breaking away from his kisses, she opened her eyes, letting them get used to the light. Their breaths were both heavy as they calmed down. Finally, after her breath returned once again to her control, she pressed her forehead to his and searched for the words to convey what she wanted to say to him.
Opening his eyes again, he found hers staring back at him with a brilliant fire of passion burning behind them. She looked so passionate, and yet unusually sober.
Returning his gaze, she finally said after long moments:
"Are you sure this is what you want?"
TBC . . .
A/N: yeah, I know this one was a little dry, but I've been extremely busy lately. And next week will be the same. I'm trying to get practices @ least 3 times a week, so that means my time is really starting to stretch, and I start driver's ed soon. I'm even thinking of getting a job during the weekends so that next year I can get my own car. I miss kindergarten when all you need was next week was to learn how to tie your shoelaces (even though I'm sure I failed that test).
I'm trying my best, so stay alive. I'm already writing the next one, I didn't want to make this one long. The problem w/ these fics lies in typing them, not writing. I could write during my boring classes, but w/ homework and stuff, finding time to type good quality is really hard.
Your exhausted writer, Yo-yo
Disclaimer: I do own Wolf Lake . . . wait, what did you say? The price for liars is . . . eternal damnation? Really? Ok, that's what I thought you said. Yeah, guys I don't own Wolf Lake, but if you loved me enough you'd just give it to me (don't get any dirty thoughts from the latter, that statement was totally kosher!).
A/N: hey babes, yeah I know I haven't updated in a WHOLE week, but I just couldn't. Suddenly teachers are starting to teach us stuff, and then giving us tests on it like we really care! I literally had at least one test per day this week. It was torture. I have figured out from this week that junior year will truly suck, but I'm thinking for running as class secretary, but if I do, then I'll probably have no time for this anymore. Not half an hour ago I arrived back from rowing practice, and I know tomorrow my muscles will hurt so much that I'll be crying like a three year old. Plus like they're redoing our bathroom, so I can't shower, so I'm stinking up the den from all the sweat I've worked up from gym and rowing, I bet you could even smell the reek from wherever you are!
Sorry if my updates take longer, but I'm falling back in my English class. We're reading The Scarlet Letter, and I haven't come up with any new questions to annoy my teacher, so I gotta' catch up or she'll suspect that her favorite aggravator isn't doing her job. Plus we're starting The Crucible next week, but I've got the weekends to type, although that only means I've got Sundays, 'cuz I've got practice and friends Saturday, and even then I gotta' do hw, so hope if I run for officer that I lose, 'cuz that's what I'm hoping, and if I do win, I will have to shoot myself from all the work. Ttfn (ta ta for now- Tigger) ULTIMATE ROWING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BRING WOLF LAKE BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
. . . Sweet Dreams -By Yo-yo
With his eyes clenched shut, he tried to control his breathing. His head was perched atop his arms and his body lay numb as he sat on the Victorian styled embroidered couch. Sitting quietly, he let the silent battle of a gazillion emotions whiz around in his head.
His father was dead.
Willard Cates, Alpha of the pack for over twenty years, was found murdered in cold blood in the enchanted woods that he strove for so long to preserve. He was slowly dying of cancer, while limping on an injured leg, and yet some selfish bastard still felt the need to take him away before anyone could prepare.
He wasn't ready yet.
He wasn't ready for the man who'd taught him to play baseball and do everything that had substance in his life to leave. He'd just recovered from the shock that he was dying and that they had only a few months left with him. He couldn't imagine that his father would leave him before he was prepared to let go. His father wouldn't leave him to take care not only of his wife and white-wolfed daughter, but also the position of Alpha, which he knew, he wasn't ready for.
He didn't know enough.
He was sorry for all the times that he'd gone out with Prestley or anyone else from the Brat Pack without even thinking once to spend time with his dying father. He was sorry that the other sex had more of his attention than the man who was supposed to help him gain the power that not only he deserved but needed. He was sorry that he didn't tell his father about Sophia, or school, or anything when he could have. He'd spent so many nights with his father, Luke doing homework, and his father reading one of the classics, lined up on the walls of the magnificent library, not speaking at all, just pondering on his own.
He wasn't ready for this whole ordeal. He wanted his father back. He wanted the man who taught him all about nature and the circle of life to return to him. He wanted his father to be there when he graduated from Wolf Lake High. He wanted his father to give him a hug and pat his back, and tell him quietly that he loved him and he was proud of him. He wanted his dad to be at his wedding when his mate for life, the new Alpha female, would be bound to him not only in Pack law, but under the sacred laws of man. He wanted to see his dad at every milestone in his life, even at the birth of his first son, or daughter. Raising the young pup to the Alpha senior, and watching the old age-creased face light up brightly, erasing all the sadness of his life, replacing it with the pure joy of this new life. He wanted his dad to be there always . . . forever.
But those dreams would have to lay unfulfilled. Even before tonight, when his father was alive, all those hopes for him and his father sat on a dusty shelf, never to be touched. His father was slowly dying of cancer, and nothing, no matter how dominant the wolf gene was in his veins, would be able to correct the damage that it had already caused.
Opening his eyes, he looked at his mother. She didn't look like the strong, assertive, Vivian Cates that normally sat beside her husband at Pack meetings with her face controlled and emotionless. Her shoulder length blonde hair led deep trails as if she'd run her hands through it repeatedly. Her azure eyes were an unusual color of almost black, rimmed red from all the crying she'd done. Her rosy complexion of good health had faded, and all she was left with was the ghostly pale shell of her being. The make-up that was meant to accentuate her beautiful features seemed to magnify the immense sadness consuming her, making her look like a twisted clown.
Her stylishly cut, royal blue satin blouse and her Brook's Brother's sharply creased khaki pants were rumpled and hung on her like a tent. Her long legs were pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. Clasped in her small hands was a crystal glass holding an amber liquid. Her chin sat on her knees as she looked past the lavishly decorated chamber into a place that he knew not.
Closing his eyes again, her drew himself back into the quiet world where his dad still presided, and everything was as it should be. Reality slipped further from his outstretched hand, letting his memories of the way things used to be flood into his mind as everything else faded away.
Faintly he could hear the sound of a truck coming down the road. It seemed to have been speeding because it screeched to a halt nearby. The doors opened, two sets of footsteps dropped, and the doors closed again. Before he could actually register what was happening, he heard the front door swing open so forcefully that it slammed against the wall and rebounded back to the assailant.
Soon the scent of apprehension invaded the large room, stilling the air.
"Matt!" he heard his mother turn, her voice trembling.
"Vivian?" he asked walking straight for her. "Yeah, how are you doing?"
"Why'd they have to do it? he was such a good man! He had family and the Pack to protect, why couldn't they just wait? God, why did they have to take him from me so early?"
Sensing another person in the room, he opened his eyes. Looking up at the figure standing there, and wasn't sure what to think. Were his eyes playing with him, was he still asleep? There was no way that this could be real.
Standing behind Sheriff Donner, unsurely, was the one person that he needed and didn't expect to actually show up.
"Sophia?" He asked lifting himself from his seat, his eyes wide with disbelief.
She looked as if she'd just woken up. She was wearing her Dad's old WLSD hoodie and plaid boxers. On her feet were old sneakers with no socks on. Her long hair was tousled atop her head, and her eyes were heavy lidded. She looked as if she'd just jumped from the bed, pulling on the hoodie and sneakers.
"I'm sorry." She whispered softly, her own eyes sparkling with unshed tears.
Walking steadily, they both met somewhere in the middle. Needing no words to express themselves, they wrapped their arms around one another, comforting each other with their warmth.
Burying his face in her neck, he let his warm breath tickle her skin and caress her ear. Her eyes closed almost involuntarily as she listened to his blood coursing through his veins and felt his heart thumping against her chest. A small smile curled her lips as she felt him press his lips against her skin.
"I'm so sorry."
"I wasn't ready yet." He whispered so lowly that only she could hear him.
"I know." She sighed gently stroking his blonde hair.
"I mean, I knew about the cancer, and I knew he was going to die, but I wasn't ready to give him up yet. I thought he'd be there for all the important things in my life. I wanted him to be there for everything that was important to me!" he cried, holding her more tightly.
"I felt that way."
"Does it ever go away?" he muttered, letting a tear cascade down his cheek.
"The hurt?"
"Yeah, it's so painful. I wanted to do so much with him; be the son that he'd be proud of, tell him things that only he could help me with, and now all that time has been lost."
"He was like my second father." She whispered, sadness dripping thickly in her voice like cream.
"He loved you like a daughter." He replied, no vestige of a lie anywhere near his voice.
"The hurt will go away eventually." She sighed placing a soft kiss to his chest.
"How? I need you to help me. I need to be strong."
"I don't know what to say." She sighed, the tears finally slipping from their ducts. "I've never been on this side of the conversation before."
"Don't say anything then." He whispered gently stroking her back.
"Guys, I'm going to speak to Matt, so go upstairs." Vivian smiled weakly, interrupting their intimate conversation.
Hearing the voice invade their quiet world, they broke apart, both facing their steely-faced parents.
"Vivian?" Matt sighed worriedly.
"Matt they're not going to do anything." Vivian insisted shooing them upstairs.
Nodding his approval, they headed upstairs without a word.
As they entered Luke's room, he closed the door behind him. She turned to face him, her eyes full or worry.
"Are you ok?"
Walking past her to his bed, he sat down without acknowledging that she'd even spoken.
Not knowing what to do, she sat beside him, staring out into space. No words were uttered as they sat in each other's company, only the knowledge that the other was there, comforted them.
She reached out and grasped his hand amongst the stillness. He didn't look at her as he intertwined their fingers together, holding hers more tightly. She could feel him trembling beside her. The gentle shiver of the bed and his staccato breathing was giving away all the emotion that he omitted to show.
Turning to him, she finally asked,
"What can I do? I want to help you, I just don't know how. Tell me what to do, I'll do anything."
Turning to her, his emerald eyes surveyed her as if he were scrutinizing an expensive vase. Her dark brown ones were filled with a sincere need to help him. She wanted to take some of the pain from his heart and help him bear it.
No one in his whole life had ever wanted to help him like that. No one had ever truly cared about how he felt and how scared he was. He was the future Alpha to them, and nothing else seemed to matter.
Before taking a moment to contemplate his actions, he leaned over and placed a kiss to her lips. The first kiss was soft, like a small trickle of wind swept past her, causing her long wisps of auburn curls to lift, almost like feathers and dance around her like butterflies. As they reveled in its sweet intensity, they never lost the sheer innocence as they passionately savored the taste and feel of each other. Their lips pressed to each other, and deep sighs both escaped their lips.
Soon his tongue began to trace the outlines of her lips, begging for entry. Before long they were both trembling as his hands moved around her waist settling her on his lap while her hands had mysteriously found themselves lost in his blonde hair; not wanting to be separated from his lips and their breathless kisses.
Pulling her hoodie over her head, he let his hands roam over her thighs as she softly moaned into his kisses. They were both totally lost in their emotions as he began to run his hands over the soft skin under her tank top, caressing closer and closer to her sensitive breasts.
His fingers came in contact with the responsive flesh and she arched to his touch, causing her lips to break away from the kiss. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she felt herself lying in a pool of bliss.
This felt so good, only problem was, it didn't feel right.
Breaking away from his kisses, she opened her eyes, letting them get used to the light. Their breaths were both heavy as they calmed down. Finally, after her breath returned once again to her control, she pressed her forehead to his and searched for the words to convey what she wanted to say to him.
Opening his eyes again, he found hers staring back at him with a brilliant fire of passion burning behind them. She looked so passionate, and yet unusually sober.
Returning his gaze, she finally said after long moments:
"Are you sure this is what you want?"
TBC . . .
A/N: yeah, I know this one was a little dry, but I've been extremely busy lately. And next week will be the same. I'm trying to get practices @ least 3 times a week, so that means my time is really starting to stretch, and I start driver's ed soon. I'm even thinking of getting a job during the weekends so that next year I can get my own car. I miss kindergarten when all you need was next week was to learn how to tie your shoelaces (even though I'm sure I failed that test).
I'm trying my best, so stay alive. I'm already writing the next one, I didn't want to make this one long. The problem w/ these fics lies in typing them, not writing. I could write during my boring classes, but w/ homework and stuff, finding time to type good quality is really hard.
Your exhausted writer, Yo-yo
