A/N: Hi peeps. I'm not apologising for taking forever to update this fic, and you wanna know why? Because I hated season 4 of LG, that's why. I can honestly rescue one, maaaaybe two episodes out of the entire thing. I ranted a lot about this on , you can find my posts on the LG community.

Anyway, my hopes for this show are dwindling day by day, and if Kenzi does not come back, I doubt I'll be following it anymore.

My LG muse ran away from me, and I can't blame her. But for you, and for this story, I will try my best. It'll be a struggle, but I'll do it.

This is a short one, but it's sweet, and it sets the stage for the best

Disclaimer: I don't own Lost Girl, but if I did, I would have done season 4 completely differently.

7: Second and Third Sense: Hearing & Smell – Part Two

He should have let Hale stay. He'd thought Lauren's medicine was supposed to help him some, but this thing he's feeling? This churning of the entrails like they're dancing the conga inside him? He did not sign up for this. But what would Hale do if he were here? Hold his hand while he goes through detox?

It's better this way. Dyson can take care of himself. He's always done it, so why start changing tunes now? There was no way he was staying at Kenzi's after seeing her as tired as she was. This is not something he can kiss and make better.

The scent of her blood was very present in his mind. She needed to get better and everyone knew that Dyson staying there would not help her at all. She'd just fight everyone to stay up and help Dyson go through… whatever it was he was going through. Because just like he'd always been there for her, Kenzi had always been there for him.

He realised just how much trouble she'd gotten herself into –hell, how much scary shit she'd battled- to help him out of whatever situation was currently aggravating him. She'd saved his life without asking for anything in return, and what did he do for her, besides leaving her when she'd asked him to stay? Take her home after she'd had one drink too many? That didn't sound like a fair trade to him. Maybe the shitty feelings in his gut weren't all related to the curse that was afflicting him.

Trick had come with him and Hale, taking advantage of Dyson's momentarily clear mind. The barkeep had repeated the same thing over and over, and over, until Dyson had had it, releasing a loud roar, than more than make his friend tremble, had put a smile on Trick's face, after seeing Dyson coming back to his senses.

Dyson could still hear the man's words floating in his brain: Whatever you do, stay well away from Kenzi. Do you hear me, Dyson? If not for you, then for her own good. I'm not willing to lose two friends in a day, you got it?

Yes. He got it loud and clear. But maybe Trick would like a little taste of the curse flowing through his veins, Dyson thought, to see that it took more than a little wishful thinking to get his mind off of the Russian female he couldn't stop seeing in his mind's eye.

Let's rephrase that. It wasn't just in his mind anymore, oh no. Dyson could catch locks of black hair and ice blue eyes floating around his loft, emerging from under his covers, peeking out from behind windows and doors. Everywhere he looked, there she was. Of course he knew it wasn't the real her, but it still drove his mind a little bit more over the edge each time.

His loft has never looked so empty and cold before. Every neuron in his mind is screaming at him that the only place he'll find warmth is by Kenzi's side, the only place he'll be safe is with her. The adrenaline rushing through his veins, courtesy of the doc, is helping him battle these emotions some, but he knows it won't be long until he succumbs to the spell's wishes again. Kenzi's words keep unravelling in his brain in a melodious tune that keeps going and going and going.

Overwhelmed, Dyson plops down on his bed, on the mattress that is still soaked in kitsune blood, and takes a deep breath through his nose. That blood, that Fae substance so unlike Kenzi's, makes his own blood boil in his veins until he remembers that the fox that hurt his Kenzi is already gone. He saw her die, it was right here, on this bed, in his arms. He remembers how terrifying it had been, and that feeling of unease binds itself around his chest until it is all he knows.

Suddenly, it doesn't matter that Kenzi's sleeping at her home, with Bo. It's all the same to him, because he's not there, and what if something happens while he's away? Dyson has brought his hand to his face without realising he was doing it. It still smells faintly of her, of vanilla flowers. It's been forever since she was at his place, the entire expanse of his dwelling quarters lack that soothing aroma he needs right now.

Dyson knows he has to stay put; he would be putting them both in danger if he went to see her. But his wolf is rebelling inside him, threatening to come out, and the first thing he can think of is grab his mobile and dial her number, in an attempt to rein his beast in.

His fingers fly over the buttons, her number committed to memory, and he doesn't have to wait long to hear her pick up on the other side. A sleepy yawn is the first thing he hears. It's enough to get his wolf to calm down. But only for a little while.

"Dyson?" she asks, groggily.

He smiles into the phone, his eyes shutting closed. "Hey, Kenz. Did I wake you?"

"Um, no!" comes her high pitched voice. Dyson can hear the rustling of sheets through the line and knows she's lying for his sake. His heart swells a little at that thought. Kenzi sighs heavily, before saying, "I couldn't sleep anyway. What's up?"

The battle waging inside the wolf is a fierce one. On the one side, the spell is fighting to dictate the moves. On the other, Dyson's charging with all his might to keep his Kenzi safe. But even he can tell it's a lost cause. He knows his body's shutting down slowly (after all, he's been alive for over a millennium and he knows his body well), so what's the harm in letting Kenzi come closer than she's ever been?

He smiles once more, his rumbling voice conveying (or trying to) all he's feeling. "I just wanted to hear your voice. You know that's one of the stages of the spell?"

It's insane, because he's not even looking at her, but he swears he can feel her shoulders sagging, her expression dropping, when she says, "I remember. The third stage. I didn't think it'd advance this quickly."

There's a tremor in her voice; Dyson can see in his mind's eye the way her lip would quiver and he feels the urge to run to her side and smooth his thumb over it. He's overcome by a desire to hold her against him and never let go, to squeeze her until she can't breathe anymore.

And now it's his turn to break down, because he knows that if he's not careful, those impulses could very well come true, and he seriously cannot afford to lose this woman. Since this is a moment of honesty, a time to share truths, he decides to be honest with himself, too. He knows that, with or without the spell's intervention, he would have come to the same conclusion on his own in a short time. Dyson can't keep denying it anymore, the way Kenzi's stormed into his life and changed it for the best has him seriously re-thinking the choices that led him here.

But, he thinks, it doesn't matter now, does it? Life's full of rough patches, but at least he was fortunate enough to meet her. To have spent some time with her, even if that time was but a blink of an eye in the many, many years he's walked this earth.

"Dyson?" she asks, agitated.

He realises he has been quiet for a while and imagines her fretting over what could have happened on the other side of the line.

"I'm here," he says, his voice breaking towards the end. He doesn't know how much longer he will be here, and it scares him. He can finally admit he's petrified of being face to face with his own demise. His only consolation is that she will stay, and she will be okay. He already promised her as much.

Without having to say much more, Kenzi has heard all the things left unsaid in that single line. Yes, he's here, but what will happen when he's not?

Dyson hears Kenzi's breath picking up speed over the phone, but before he can ask her what's troubling her, she says something that makes his resolve go flying out the window.

"Screw Trick. Screw Bo. Come home, Dyson. Be with me."

Never did a statement like that one made him bolt out the door so fast, his mobile left forgotten on his bed. Kenzi listened to him run to her over the line, and could do little to stop the hammering of her heart from breaking her bones, or the smile that slowly crept up her lips, knowing her wolf-man would soon be by her side.