Swiftcurrent Creek Pick you up, let you down

@Alessia set for 2/1

He wasn't sure how long he had sat at the borders hanging his head. The passing time meant nothing as shame and desolation rolled through every single part of his body and when he had finally risen to his feet, it was with the feeling that some part of him was broken beyond repair. He had some kind of flaw inside him, and maybe that was the source of the curse all along. The universe had seen inside the depths of him and found ugliness and had seen fit to take the plateau from him. Then that ugliness had finally shown itself as he destroyed his marriage and the woman who had only ever loved him unconditionally. His mistake had spread through his life like a virus, slowly infecting his relationships and leaving him completely alone. Ruenna hadn't said as much, but Kavik knew he was the reason she left--she hated him; she had every right to, and he had the feeling she wasn't the only one who felt that way. But no one hated him more than he hated him. 

Tonight, he slowly moved through the snow after a somewhat useless patrol; something that once gave him peace now seemed to only feel like going through the motions. When he had done about as much as he could stand, he turned and headed back towards his den, staring blankly at the path in front of him without actually seeing it. Over the last two days, numbness had started to slowly replace the unbearable anguish that had threatened to force him into unconsciousness at almost every miserable moment, and he used it to focus on getting himself to his den. He just needed to make it a little farther, and then he could collapse into blissful nothingness; it was far more than he deserved, but he didn't think he could survive much more of the day without some kind of relief.

Some part of her had realized, that day at the borders, just how much this single incident has truly changed her — but she hadn't really realized. Not until she met Liri. The encounter had shaken her more deeply than she'd thought possible, had made her see things in herself she'd never known existed. She must have laid there for hours after the woman had left, blank and hollow save a single dark seed planting itself in her mind; the only way she can think to fix this. Or, if not fix it, at least remove a problem, though she shudders to think of it that way.
She doesn't dare to wonder at Kavik's state as she approaches his den with purpose. She'd seen the grief in Liri's gaze, and understands enough of loss to guess at what she might find there. She doesn't get that far, though; it seems quite sudden when their paths cross, and her surprise triggers a momentary bolt of nausea. Her gaze drops briefly and she swallows hard, halting the moment she sees him. Kavik, She says immediately, ears laying back against her skull as she takes in the sight of him. It suddenly feels cruel to ambush him with this — but it cannot wait. I-I'm sorry — I can — I can get rid of them. The pups — before they're born. And then I'll go, and you won't have to see me again. It all comes out in a rush, voice tremulous and breaking slightly toward the end, and for a moment she almost wants to take it back. But she swallows the feeling instead, reminding herself that Kavik's pups should never have been hers anyway — that this is the only way she can correct that mistake.

Myrren suddenly appeared in his path, and it took him a few seconds to register her. He blinked a few times, coming out of his trance as his misery began flow through him again. His shoulders sagged a little under the weight as he listened to her speak. At first, he looked at her with confusion, unsure he had even heard her correctly. Had she just asked him if he wanted her to kill their children? He was piece of shit, sure, but to ask her to do that would surely be pure evil. The ugliness whispered in his ear that he could be with Liri if the pups no longer existed, but he pushed the awful thought away. Even if she would take him back, what would happen when she found out that he sacrificed innocent life for his own happiness? It just wasn't an option. If anything, the children were the only good thing in his life right now, and he would never do anything to harm them. No, he said first, shaking his head as disbelief replaced the confusion in his expression. They shouldn't have to pay for my mistake, he added, the anger in his tone surprising him.

She shrinks a little at the anger in his tone, flushing with shame as her gaze drops again; when did she become so timid? Maybe around the time you got knocked up, a nasty voice chimes helpfully in the background, and her nausea intensifies. Our mistake, She corrects quietly, eyes still trained on the ground. She pauses a beat, then adds more quietly: I'm sorry. She doesn't know what she's sorry for this time; sorry for suggesting it, perhaps — or for making such a suggestion necessary.

He winced as she recoiled from his fury, eyes closing as the all too familiar guilt found its way back into the mix of emotions currently tormenting him. His anger wasn't directed at her--only at himself, the only one here who deserved it. She corrected him by mentioning that it was their mistake and not just his. He sighed softly through his nose as his gaze found her once more. Her apology only served to make him feel even worse, and he shook his head again. Don't, he said, the word almost a whisper, and his tone completely devoid of the anger that had been there before. This isn't your fault. He couldn't bear for her to take the blame anymore than he could bear to see her look so dejected. He touched his nose to her cheek if allowed, wanting to soothe her even as he felt like his own suffering would crush him at any moment.

She closes her eyes as he touches her, taking in a slow breath. It's almost maddening, the way he insists it isn't her fault; it seems everyone believes as much, and she can't stand it. She might have been content, once, to allow herself to be seen as blameless here — smug, even. Now it fills her with shame, recalling the way she'd more or less thrown herself at him each time another wolf dismisses her blame in the matter.
It is my fault, though, She says after a moment, pulling away slightly to meet his eyes as she speaks. Her own are already stinging with the beginnings of tears, a feeling she's grown so tired of that she would not mourn at all if her eyes simply fell out. I came to you — I started it. And I know you haven't been with any of the other women in heat here. The scent would have stuck in his fur, surely; she does not think him a man to hide such a thing anyway. She swallows, breaking eye contact again as she continues. You've been nothing but kind to me, and I — I'm sorry I ruined your life.

He held her gaze as she spoke, every one of her words making him feel worse. He wasn't even sure he could feel worse, but it seemed his minds ability to torment him with guilt was endless. And of course he hadn't been with any of the other women; like he had thought multiple since realizing what he had done, he was done destroying his life. He had agreed to be her mate, and he wouldn't mess that up again, even if it was mostly out of necessity. Her eyes shined with the threat of tears before she looked away and uttered her apology. Kavik closed his eyes and sighed once more. Myrren, he said softly. If you refuse to let me carry all the blame here then I guess there is nothing I can do about that, but you have not ruined my life. He did that all on his own, and he would not let her continue to think that she was at fault for that. He was the one who had defiled his vows and betrayed the love of his life. I don't think I can stand for you to carry that burden, he said, exhausted eyes trained on her profile.

She can't help but feel a little bitter when he denies her the blame she feels she deserves, though she knows she should not have expected anything else. She's silent for several beats, wondering why it had to be him of all wolves; why couldn't it have been someone she could hate? Instead... You deserve better than this, She says finally, loathing every moment of the shaky, quiet confession. You're the kindest man I've ever met — mistakes included. And I've done... many terrible things — far worse than this. She pauses, releasing a short, humorless huff of laughter and shaking her head a little. Myrren isn't even my real name — just another way to avoid my past. You shouldn't have to do this, Kavik. Not with someone like me.

He closed his eyes, head falling a little. They were the first nice things he had heard in...days? weeks? He wasn't sure, but he most certainly didn't deserve them. As much as he wanted to let them soothe some of his pain, he knew they wouldn't. It was too consuming and there was entirely too much of it to really be soothed by anything except maybe time, and he wasn't even sure that would help very much. He felt like he was condemned to drown in the aftermath of his weakness for eternity. 

His eyes opened in surprise with her last statement. Myrren wasn't her real name? If you're name isn't Myrren, then what is it? he asked somewhat hesitantly, not wanting to force her to offer him information she wasn't ready to give. I am in no position to judge anyone for their mistakes, He consoled, shaking his head a little. And you shouldn't have to do this either, but here we are. They were essentially strangers, yet she was really all he had now, and he couldn't help but feel like she deserved better than a broken, flawed, cheater as the father of her children.

She'd expected him to ask, but she hesitates, even knowing her name holds no meaning here. All that she is hiding from has been left far behind — yet she still fears it, somewhere deep inside herself. She still recalls vividly that horrible night: blood and fear and losing the only wolf who'd ever seen the most rotten parts of her soul and still truly loved her. It isn't the idea of following Rosalie into death that terrifies her; it is the thought of seeing their faces again, should they ever find her.
But they can't find her here — she has to tell herself that. There are more pressing things to deal with, now. It's um... my name is Alessia, She murmurs, resisting the urge to shudder as the name slips from her tongue. She can't recall when she'd last spoken it, or heard it from another. Perhaps Alessia is dead now, crushed by her life as Myrren, her mistakes. Perhaps she's changed forever. She falls silent, suddenly wishing she'd saved this conversation for another time and kept to herself today; she doesn't know how much more of this she can handle before she... — ah, she'll be fine. She always has been.

He wanted to ask what in her past she was avoiding, but he wasn't sure she was in a position to tell him right now; she looked like she felt just as emotionally decimated as he did. Alessia, he repeated instead. I would like to call you by your real name when it's just us if that's okay, Kavik asked quietly. He would, of course, continue to call her by Myrren if that's what she preferred, but maybe she would trust him enough to allow him to use her real name at least in private.

She shivers slightly as he says her name, a little surprised by how intimate it feels. It's almost uncomfortable. His question comes before she can decide how she feels about it, and she hesitates a beat. That's — that's fine, She says quietly after a moment. She can't begin to understand why it feels so strange, but it's easy to ignore; she's just grateful he isn't questioning her use of a moniker. He's being kind about it, of course — as she should have expected. Perhaps one day she can learn to expect it, at least from him.

Thank you, he offered, grateful for her trust and permission when he really didn't deserve either. So far, he had not really seen any hate from her, which surprised him; she had every right to hate him, but he couldn't help but be immensely relieved that she was on his side at least for now. That probably made him selfish, but he didn't have the capacity to really think much more about it currently. Plus, things were shitty now, but he wanted them to be a unit once the pups were born so that they could provide them with as much stability as possible. 

Even with the comforting thought of his future children lingering in his mind, Kavik was beginning to have some trouble fighting off the cloud of emotional torment that still lingered over him. He was so tired--more than tired; he was completely drained, and just the thought of standing here for more than a few more minutes seemed like torture. He closed his eyes against the influx of pain, drawing in a deep breath through his nose. I'm not sure I can stay awake much longer, he said apologetically, opening his eyes to look at Alessia. She looked about the same as he did, and he was sure she had to be far more exhausted than he probably was. You should try to get some rest, too, he offered, hesitant again. He didn't want her to think he was telling her what to do, but he couldn't help but worry.

She shifts a little uncomfortably when he thanks her, skin crawling at the conflicting emotions brewing within her. At his next words, her ears fall back a little, and she hesitates again before she speaks. Do you um — would you mind... company? There seems to be no good way to phrase the question, and her ears heat slightly at the awkwardness to her tone. For a beat she almost worries it will be taken the wrong way — but surely he knows better. She only wants the comfort of his presence; the only one at the Creek that she can truly call familiar.

He didn't even realize how much he did actually want company until she offered it. Kavik smiled a little, the gesture feeling foreign. Of course, he answered with a small nod. That would be...thank you, he said softly, shoulders dropping a little in relief. Maybe his den wouldn't seem so cold and empty with the warmth of the only wolf he could really trust right now. He turned then, motioning with his head for her to follow, and headed silently to the rest of the way to his space, trying not to think too hard about the tiny sprout of hope beneath all the ugliness for fear it would disappear if he let himself want it too much.