"I'm a terrible mother."
The words had come out of the blue - Fin herself had too, actually. Eljay was spending time with his cousin and the Blackthorn had intended to take that time to do some casual hunting to try and take her mind off of things. Her leg and body had healed enough to allow it, which was something she'd been waiting for with almost unbearable longing. And yet, when the moment had finally arrived, it was not off on her own that Finley had chosen to go - it was to track down the one wolf she'd been wanting to avoid since she had returned home. Her mate.
Finley said nothing else as she stood a few yards from
@Elwood, her gaze trained upon her paws. She stood like one broken and defeated, her ears slung back and face turned slightly as she always did now. Her voice had shaken with emotion when she spoke, and now it was the rest of her lithe frame that trembled showing her heartache and fear for whatever was to come of this conversation, for whatever misery that had gone through already, and for the guilt and sadness that still weighed heavily down upon her every second of her life since the moment she'd decided not to come home when she had promised that she would.
He had been surprised by her sudden arrival -- it was rare to see her away from home, and he certainly hadn't expected her to track him down. For the last few weeks, they had passed like ships in the night, ghosting through conversations that only skimmed the surface of their relationship. Elwood had attempted once to dig deeper, but Finley had deflected his questions, and he hadn't tried again since.
Now, confronted by her presence and her words, he felt uncomfortable. Normally, he would have gone to her immediately and comforted her, assuring her that she was anything but a terrible mother. But physical affection was something that had been lost long ago, and he found himself at a loss. Could he even disagree with her? He wasn't sure, and that was what scared him.
After a silence that was much too long, he shook his head and took a tentative step towards her, though he didn't reach out to touch her yet. His gaze traced the slope of her muzzle, studying the way she kept her face turned to hide her scars. "What do you mean?" he finally asked.
He didn't argue. For a moment, Finley wasn't certain he would say anything at all. And why would he? It was inconceivable to her at this point that he could disagree. She had done nothing lately to suggest that she hadn't been a complete failure to her family. And yet, when he asked what she meant by it, she felt a flare of anger at him for asking. It felt as though he was trying to rub it in - that he wanted her to feel worse by forcing her to explain it when she already intended to do just that. But the moment the anger came, it was gone again. What right did she have to be upset at him?
"I should never have left," Fin said quietly, her voice shaking in a way that had nothing to do with the bitter chill in the air, "I ruined him. I ruined everything." She shut her eyes tight as the tears she thought she'd been too exhausted and defeated to shed came suddenly and violently to her lids. "I don't know what to do."
"I should never have left," she replied, and Elwood couldn't argue with that fact. He had given her his blessing at the time, but hindsight was twenty-twenty -- maybe he should have advised her against departing. But she had seemed to need time away from Eljay and the responsibilities of motherhood; he had hoped that a little trip would help return her to the carefree, happy Finley that he had fallen in love with.
After what had transpired, however, she had slipped further and further away from her former self. This worn, weary, scarred Finley was almost unrecognizable, and yet Elwood almost couldn't remember what she had been like before. He had nearly forgotten the sound of her laugh or the shape of her smile. He took a deep, steadying breath, looking away from the tears that streamed down Finley's face.
"It's not your fault," he said, though his words sounded hollow even to his own ears.
"Yes it is," Fin replied almost instantly, breathing deep to steady her growing misery before it could fully overcome her. She hated crying. She hated being weak like she had been for the past few weeks. She hated everything about what she had become, but she felt so powerless to be anything else or to feel any other way.
"I knew I should have come back," she said after a moment, "I knew I had been gone longer than I said I'd be. I was so selfish and stupid. I told myself that a few more days would only give him more time to adjust to not always being around me. Like it was helping him." She felt physically ill over admitting the truths she had long been trying to forget, but she knew there was no holding back, not now that she'd started.
"What the fuck kind of mother does that to her son," she murmured angrily at herself, almost as though she wasn't even aware that Elwood was listening, "What kind of mother doesn't know her own kid well enough to be able to tell that she was doing the worst thing possible for him?" Her shoulders began to shake as the dam began to break. "I don't deserve either of you." With that, the Blackthorn crumpled.
And just like that, the proverbial dam broke. An onslaught of words rushed out of Finley, more than she had spoken in weeks. Elwood was taken aback at first simply by the sound of her voice, but he soon honed in on what she was saying, deciphering her sentences as her voice began to shake.
She admitted that it hadn't been as accidental as it had seemed. She had made the decision to stay away from the caldera for longer than anticipated. These facts rang in Elwood's ears as he digested them, finding it hard to comprehend even though it all seemed to make sense. He wasn't quite sure how to feel; was he supposed to be angry at her? Or forgive her for coming clean? How would they move forward from this?
By this point, Finley was slumped in front of Elwood, but he hadn't moved to comfort her. He realized that he was trembling slightly, though he couldn't be sure if it was with fury or fear. "Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered, his ears tilting back against his head. He stared hard at the grass between himself and Finley. "If you were having such a hard time with him -- you could have talked to me. I could have tried to help." But you didn't, and you made it worse, he wanted to add, but bit his tongue.
Her body shook from the force of her sobs as they wracked through her. She tried again and again to regain control of herself, but it was a wasted effort. The wall had come down, and for a moment, all Fin could do was try not to drown as the waves throttled her.
It was Elwood's voice that pulled her back, and though she wasn't able to stop fully, she did manage to reel herself in enough to hear him and to force an answer to her mouth. "I didn't want you to know," she said truthfully, knowing there was nothing she could hide at this point that might save them, "I wanted to fix it and make things okay without you ever having to know how... how worthless I am. I was scared I'd lose you." And now I've lost everything anyway... she added in her mind, causing a fresh wave of tears.
She calmed enough to answer him, although what she said didn't make him feel much better. At least she was being honest, he reminded himself, and sighed. "We're supposed to be a team, Fin. You're not supposed to hide things from me," he said, frowning as he finally lowered himself into a sitting position.
Just as quickly as her tears had stopped, they sprung up once more. He felt his resolve wavering, although things were still far from being fixed. Gnawing thoughtfully on his lower lip, he added, "Truthfully, I don't really know what to do with Eljay, either. I'm just as inexperienced as you are. That's why we're supposed to figure out this whole parenting thing together." He felt a new wave of bitterness wash over him -- he had been a single father by definition while Finley was gone, and while she was sorry for what she had done, it had still been selfish.
But dwelling on the past wouldn't do anything to improve their situation. He exhaled again, then fixed her with his gaze. "I want you to tell me everything. No more secrets."
Finley could tell by his tone that he was upset with her, but there was more softness in his words than she had anticipated. Slowly, her sobs grew more gentle. The tears continued to stream down her cheeks, but she felt finally as though she was gaining control again.
Timidly, she stole a glance at him and sought his gaze. She held it for only a moment before turning her cheek again, feeling too ashamed to be able to connect for too long. She shook her head, feeling miserable as he spoke of them learning to be parents together. It didn't seem to her that he had anything to learn at all - he was so good with Eljay, so patient, firm, and loving. She simply couldn't imagine him ever wishing he could just pick the boy up and throw him when he was in the middle of one of his tantrums. He never would have screamed at him for refusing to eat meat...
"I want to make him better," she said quietly, "He's so.. fragile. And he's so scared and unhappy. I don't know what to do. I don't even trust myself to do anything. I just know I'm going to screw up again and make everything worse." She lifted her eyes skyward and swallowed the knot in her throat.
There was something deeply disconcerting to her about Elwood demanding that they keep no secrets between them when she felt so very haunted by one in that moment - one that was just even more evidence that she would always screw up and lives would be hurt or ruined because of it. But that was another topic altogether, and Finley saw no reason to bring it up then as it had nothing to do with the real issue here with their son, even despite the tiny flicker of guilt that squirmed in her stomach over leaving it unsaid.
"You're not going to screw up again," Elwood said firmly, perhaps even a bit too forcefully. His expression softened when he realized how commanding he sounded, and he rephrased. "Eljay is...Eljay. And we can't change what happened to him. But we can move forward and try to provide him a safe, secure home." It was likely that even their best efforts wouldn't yield the results that they wanted -- Eljay would probably always be a nervous, skittish wolf. He always had been, even before Finley left.
Gazing thoughtfully over her shoulder at the trees beyond, he continued. "Besides, he's almost six months old. He's growing up, and you know what? I think he's going to be fine," he said. Sure, Eljay wasn't as well-adjusted as Nightjar, Wildfire, and Raven, but hopefully his confidence would continue to grow as he matured.
With that said, Elwood stood. He took a few steps, closing the gap between himself and Finley, until he was standing on her "good" side -- so that he was looking down at the side of her face that was still smooth and unmarked. It was like gazing into the past for a moment, and he had to give his head a gentle shake to remind himself of what was happening in the present. He leaned down, nudging her shoulder softly. "So what do you say? Are we still in this together?" he asked, and there was apprehension in his eyes as he withdrew.
His encouragement sounded more like a command, and even a bit like a threat. Fin peeked at him again, feeling wary. She didn't protest for she realized that their relationship depended on her not screwing up. Her stomach clenched with guilt again as she also realized what an insurmountable task that would prove to be for her.
Finley was quiet as he spoke. Her mind was clouded with negativity, but she kept each argument to herself, knowing it would do them no good and she was simply in too dark a place to see the truth in his words or to take comfort in them. She simply nodded, gazing solemnly down at her paws until he touched her and his final question drew her eyes fully to his face.
She stared at him for a moment in silence as though she wasn't entirely sure who he was. Then finally, with a quiet voice, she asked, "You still.. want me?" As though her own words had made her aware of the fact that she was staring right at him, she turned her muzzle slightly to hide the ugly scar upon her face. Her eyes were still turned towards him meekly, her ears perking ever so slightly to capture his response.
There was a long pause before Finley answered, and when she did, she only strung together four words. And despite the brevity of her comment, it was enough to melt his heart. Any uncertainty that had been brewing there disappeared, at least for the time being. Even as she tilted her head, revealing to him her injured cheek, he saw a glimmer of the wolf he had fallen for, a faint sparkle in her eye that reminded him that she was still Finley.
"Of course," Elwood replied emphatically, leaning down to gently touch his nose to her scarred face. He hesitated, then carefully licked her, feeling his tongue grazing the rough flesh that once had been smooth. While the sensation could have caused him to recoil, he did not; he remained close to her for a long moment.
"I love you," he reminded her in a whisper, the tip of his tail giving the tiniest wave.
She expected him to say no. Of course he didn't want her. She was a broken, pathetic shell of a wolf - barely an echo of what she had been. Even more, she was disfigured and ugly. It was no more than she deserved for abandoning her family, but it still made her feel so ashamed. How could he want her? She was ugly, inside and out. And he was perfect. He deserved so much better than her and all of this misery she'd brought him.
It was with disbelieving eyes that Finley brought her gaze to her mate's. She heard his words, felt the touch upon her mangled face, and after the briefest moments of sitting frozen in shock, she tilted her head towards him to drink in the most wonderful, the most therapeutic, hopeful words she would ever hear in her life.
"I love you too..." Fin said, gulping back another round of tears as they surfaced. She had nearly called him 'Twig', but it felt too soon and raw to utter such a familiar moniker. Timidly, she reached out for him, to run her nose along his jaw and then to press herself against him - if he let her.
She replied in kind, and it felt as though a missing puzzle piece had slid into place. Things were still far from perfect, but at least they still knew how they felt about each other -- no matter what had happened, that wouldn't change. When she reached out to touch him, he did not move away. Instead, he leaned into her gentle, timid embrace.
"It's good to have you back," he said softly, and he didn't mean just physically. She was more emotionally present than she had been in weeks, and it gave him hope for their future.
Elwood didn't reject her, and Finley reveled in his embrace. She felt as though she were going to come unhinged again simply out of relief, but it was fleeting as the heavy weight of knowing they were not nearly healed quite yet fell upon her shoulders. She growled softly with affection - the only response she could muster to his comment for now. She was not back; not yet. But for the first time in weeks, she felt as though she could be, and that was enough for now.