Prodigal | J2 AU NC-17 | Chapter 3

[fufaraw]

Chapter 3

Jensen and Lee were waiting on the front porch when Jim reached his house. Mara had done her job; he noted the sweating glass of iced tea in each of their hands.

He nodded to the alpha, "Lee."

Rumohr raised his glass in salute. "Principal Beaver."

"I don't stand on ceremony, you know that. It's just Jim." He turned to the boy. "Jensen, if you'll step inside with me, we'll get started."

*    *    *

Omundson had called Alan and asked if he could come by the mayor's office while Jensen was taking his placement tests. Alan arrived to find Omundson and two of his men waiting with Kim.

"Hi, Alan. Good to see you again."

Alan shook Tim's hand and sat in one of the chairs he indicated. Tim took the other. "You've had a little time now to look over Wolverton and get a feel for the town. Does it feel like a place where you and your family could live and be happy?"

"I think so," Alan said, with some hesitancy. "Everyone here has been nothing but kind and welcoming, both to me and to Jensen. It seems like the kind of place Jensen needs to feel safe, and I'm starting to feel comfortable here."

He took a breath and tackled the real reason for his delay. "But, my wife has no idea about any of this—that Jensen's been found, why he was abducted in the first place, and most of all, the changes that our son has undergone and will have to live with the rest of his life. Once she's had a chance to work through all that, then she'll be able to understand why Jensen can't come home, why Mackenzie may be in jeopardy from these wolves as well. And then she'll be able to see the wisdom of this kind of move for our family."

Omundson nodded thoughtfully before he spoke. "I do realize what you're saying. That's one reason I wanted to speak with you. You recall that I have men at your home, watching over your family?"

Alarm spiked at the reminder. "Has there been anything—?"

Omundson shook his head in reassurance. "No, nothing yet. But we are pushing the odds, here. I think it's time we got your wife and daughter out of their exposed position and here where they'll be more protected. You haven't discussed any of the events since Jensen contacted you with your wife?"

Somewhat shamefaced, Alan shook his head in the negative. "I just haven't known how to bring it up," he told the alpha. "And I couldn't do it over the phone. I need to sit down with her, face to face."

"Well, I think it's time. She needs to know what's happened to Jensen, and I'm sure she will want to see him. And you two need to talk about moving to Wolverton, and possibly even find a house while she and your daughter are here, even if this trip winds up being just a visit before they move. I want you to call your wife in the next 24 hours, and explain what's going on. Have her and your daughter ready to travel, and you can vouch for my men, who will drive them here."

"She has her own car—"

"But I doubt she will be able to defend herself and your daughter should any of the Fenris pack be watching and take this opportunity to attack, and possibly kidnap your daughter. Or follow her car to Wolverton, and come to take Jensen back."

Omundson waited for a beat while those possibilities sunk in. And when they did, Alan asked, a little shakily. "Are there names I can give her? Other proof that your men are who they say they are?"

Omundson agreed. "I'll get you that information before you leave."

Alan nodded, forced to accept that he couldn't put off explaining everything to Donna any longer.

*    *    *

Jim was pleased to see the boy testing close to grade level for his age on several things. Specific course knowledge lagged behind, but not irremediably far, and Beaver spent a couple of evenings designing course work for Jensen. He called Ms. Abbott's to let the Ackles know he was ready to go over Jensen's assignments with him. He made a list of textbooks he needed to bring home from the school's book storeroom, and when Jensen called back, they decided to meet Saturday morning to go over the work Jensen would be doing.

Jensen was eager to get back into schoolwork, which puzzled him a little. "I've never been much of a bookworm," he remarked to his dad.

"Yes, but it's normal for a kid your age to have to study, bring home assignments, and do classwork." He punched Jensen's shoulder gently. "Getting back to real life, kid," he said with a grin. Jensen grinned back, and he nodded.

"Yeah," he agreed. "You're right. I'm ready."

*    *    *

Alan left a voicemail for Donna, saying that he needed to talk to her sometime when she wasn't working, and when Mackenzie wasn't there. She texted back with a time, and a "what's up?" But he just sent back, "Tell you when I call. Love you."

When he did call, he told her that their son had been found. That he was with Alan. That he was safe. He let her cry with joy and celebrate for a few minutes, but then he had to tell her that the men who had kidnapped their son were almost certainly trying to find him, to take him back, and so Alan had turned to people who could help, who would help to keep Jensen safe. They were in a secluded location, and Alan had arranged to bring Donna and Mackenzie to meet them, men who would drive them from home, who would be aware if anyone tried to follow them, who could protect Mackenzie and Donna should anything happen.

"I'm sorry it all sounds so cloak and dagger, hon," he told her, hearing the disbelief and fear clearly in her voice. "But Jensen hasn't had an easy time, and this is the best way to keep him safe, and give him back some kind of normal life."

"Alan?" She sounded angry, and he knew her well, knew that this was the way she reacted to things that scared her. "I don't understand. What aren't you telling me?"

"Sweetheart, I swear I'll tell you everything, but I really need you both to come to us, okay? I promise you'll be safe, and I promise I'll tell you everything once you're here. Please say you'll come."

She finally agreed, and he gave her a pass phrase the men would know, along with their names and descriptions. He told her they would be at the house in the morning to drive her and Mackenzie to meet Jensen and him, and they should pack for a long weekend.

"And while you're packing, can you pack some clothes for me, too? Jeans and shirts, nothing fancy. T-shirts. I bought underwear and socks for Jensen and me both. But I could use a couple of pairs of sneakers, and some pjs?"

"Alan? How much longer are you planning on staying there?"

"Not much longer, I hope," he told her. "But I've been wearing the same two sets of clothes—one of those bought at a thrift shop—and washing out my underwear by hand. I need enough clothes to actually make up a load for the washer. Please, hon? If you don't mind?"

He could hear the grin in her voice when she agreed, and knew she was picturing him bent over a bathroom sink scrubbing out his skivvies with bar soap.

"I can't wait to see you, sweetheart. I've missed you. I've missed you both."

"We miss you, too," she answered. "I—we'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Yeah, baby. See you tomorrow. Love you."

"Love you, too."

*    *    *

Jensen did not have an easy morning. When Alan asked, he was positive in his wish to see his mom and sister again. But Alan remembered how hard it had been for Jensen to tell his dad what had happened to him, what he had become. And Alan knew his son was feeling all of that uncertainty and fear of rejection now. All he could do was grip a shoulder. Give a pat on the back in passing. And offer a reassuring smile now and then.

Both Lee and Hugo were within sight, though not obviously on guard as Alan and Jensen waited on Ms. Abbott's front porch. When the SUV pulled to a stop and Donna and Mackenzie stepped out, Alan was first to move, to wrap one, then both of his girls in a hug. Donna's gaze went to Jensen, and she turned and held out her arms. Like he was drawn on a line, the boy stepped into his mother's embrace. She loosened her arms after a moment or two, and looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, and smiled. Her boy had grown so tall! He felt a tugging at his sleeve and turned to see his baby sister, fourteen now, and still trying to keep from jumping up and down with excitement and impatience.

"Mack!" He turned from his mom to engulf his sister in a bear hug, and she hugged him back just as hard.

"Missed you!" she murmured into his shirt front, which was now damp with her tears.

"You too, squirt," he grinned down at her, and she made a face and whacked him on the arm.

"You got so tall!" It sounded like an accusation, the way she said it.

"Okay, everybody," Alan held out his arms to shepherd his family into the building. "Ms. Abbott has set aside a meeting room for us, with drinks and some of her wonderful hummingbird cake. Let's all go inside and catch up."

After cake and some chatter, after getting and giving their fill of hugs and long, fond, assessing looks, Alan suggested a tour of the town, and everyone climbed into the familiar family car. It was the first time they had all ridden together in a very long time. Hugo followed them in his own vehicle, at a discreet distance.

Alan wanted to show off the charm of the town, and as they drove, he pointed out a few of the houses he and Jensen had viewed. Donna didn't have much to say about the houses though, or the town. She couldn't really seem to take her eyes off her son. Jensen wanted to be happy under his mom's gaze, with Mack by his side, but somehow he couldn't relax. He felt ill at ease. Donna couldn't seem to help it, though. Rather than interacting with Alan, and even less so with Jensen, she seemed quiet.

They returned to Ms. Abbott's after their tour, and Alan suggested that Jensen show Mackenzie around town. He needed to pick up some school supplies, so why didn't they walk down to the stationer's and see what they had in stock? Jensen was glad enough to escape the confines of the room, and Mack was willing to follow where he led. Jensen introduced Hugo, who moved off with them on their errand.

Alan hoped the errand would keep them occupied for a couple of hours. He had a quiet word with Hugo, and asked him to make sure Alan and Donna had an hour or so before the kids came back. When the door closed quietly behind them Donna turned to her husband, finally too impatient to wait any longer for the promised explanation.

“All right, Alan, tell me what the hell is going on! What did those kidnappers do to Jensen--what has my baby been through?" She didn't give him time to answer, continuing almost without a breath. "He’s changed, Alan, so much. He's so tall! But it's not just that. He's...quieter. Even with Mack he's not our silly, goofy boy. He seems almost a grown man now, and so serious when he thinks nobody's paying attention. There's so much I've missed! He’s changed—he's just not like himself. Tell me what's happened to him."

She grabbed onto Alan’s shirt and held on, tears in her eyes threatening to fall.

Alan wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in tight. “It’ll all be explained, love. Be patient. There’s … there’s someone I want you to meet. A man who understands what Jensen has gone through and can explain it far better than I can. He’s in charge of tracking down the kidnappers. They won’t get away with this, Dee, I promise you. Just be patient, let him speak. Be grateful our boy has come out of this in one piece. He's healthy now, and he's starting to smile. We have reason to celebrate.” He patted her hands and pulled away, stood and walked to the door to speak to someone outside in the hall.

The man who came into the room was a stranger to her, though Alan seemed to know him well. He introduced him as Timothy Omundson, and Omundson asked her to call him Tim as he took a seat. She regarded Alan with questions in her eyes, and Alan sat in the chair next to her, reached over and took her hand.

"Tim's here to help me explain," he told her. "And to back me up on some of the story that's going to sound impossible to you."

Omundson merely nodded, and waited for Alan to go on. Alan took a breath, and started.

*    *    *

Being with Mack again was fun. Jensen had forgotten what talking trash and teasing his sister about her latest boy band crushes, and trying to find out which boys at school she was sweet on wasn't quite the same when his knowledge of the music world was three years out of date, and he had no idea who the people were she was talking about from school. But he was delighted to discover that the annoying big brother moves were still there, irrelevant to concrete facts, and so they picked up their parts in that game without a stumble.

The stationer's was surprisingly well stocked, even with Jensen's preferred brand of notebooks, and a new style of highlighter in neat new colors, along with his favorite pens. Jensen stocked up, and offered to buy stuff for Mack, as well. But she assured him her school supplies were well stocked. He did slip a packet of novelty gum erasers into his purchases; they were molded in the shape of cartoon and anime characters he remembered her being fond of.

When they found a bench in the park to sit and eat the soft serve cones Jensen bought them from the ice cream parlor, he gave her the little packet. She squealed a little, and thanked him with a smile.

"This has been fun, bro. But there's stuff going on, stuff I'm not being told. I—I know you've been through some shit, and I don't want to push, if you're not ready to tell me about it, okay?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but she kept talking. "Let me get this out. I don't care what's happened, you're still my big brother. Anything I can do, I'll do it. I'm here, for whatever, whenever you need me."

Her tongue lapped at a long drip that threatened to fall, before she looked him straight in the face and repeated, "Whatever, whenever. I know I look like a kid, Jensen. But you're not the only one who had to grow up in the last three years. Having you gone, like that? Was really hard. On me, but on Mama and Daddy, too."

Her face scrunched as she shot a look at him from under her brows. "Try being an only child, dude. It's not all 'I don't gotta share nothin', man!' It's also nobody else to blame when all Mom's chocolate gets eaten, or the paint can in the garage gets kicked over."

His eyebrows rose in mock consternation, "You didn't!"

"Well, you weren't there to blame it on." She grinned again, then sobered. "But it was pretty hard, being their only chick, and them trying to not let me out of their sight. Like, ever." There was a beat; her face reflected some of the difficulty of her last three years. And then her grin grew very big, and she swung her legs and bounced where she sat. "So, you're back now. And I can put the blame on you for Everything!"

Jensen had been looking, sort of, for an opening to tell Mack at least the werewolf part of what had happened to him. This seemed like that chance. But he didn't want to upset this moment, this affectionate reunion between them.

He was sure his dad would make an opportunity to tell his mom—in fact, that could be happening right now. A quick chill ran down Jensen's back; the next time he saw her, she might know what he was. How would she react? How could he know if she would see him differently? As no longer her son? Or if she would still welcome him, even if— He cut off that line of thought. But he did consider that perhaps his parents would want to tell Mack themselves, and in their own time and place. Even if it was his story to tell, he didn't feel comfortable going against their wishes, if that was the case. So he grabbed his sister's wrist and feinted at her cone, only pretending to devour it. She shrieked, as he expected, and he let go.

"But I was only trying to help!" he protested. "It's melting all over!"

She called him names, and bit a big mouthful of ice cream off the cone, and then did the brain freeze face for a few minutes while he laughed at her.

Hugo watched the kids, a smile softening his features. He liked the kid, at least what he'd seen having watched over him for a few days. Honestly, from what he and Lee had been told, the kid had been through several kinds of hell, but he seemed to be recovering. Still timid—but most omegas were more timid than betas or alphas—but you could see the intelligence and humor that were part of him, man or wolf. Hugo observed and acknowledged the sibling closeness, hoping that would serve to keep the boy and his sister close once she learned the truth.

*    *    *

As Alan had feared and expected, Donna didn't take any of the news well, and when the hysterics started to mount, Tim was quick to reassure Donna that Jensen was being protected, was welcome in town, as his family would be. People in town would happily make a place for them, find a job for Donna and get Mack situated in school. She listened, watching his face carefully as he spoke, trying to judge the truth of what he was saying.

After the storm of hysterics, a kind of shock began to set in, and Donna said little and seemed to withdraw somewhat, as Alan and Tim each tried to reassure her that things were going to work out okay for Jensen, for the family. That they would be happy in Wolverton, Jensen and Mackenzie would be safe and protected by the whole town, allowed to be kids and live a good life. That the family would be together, would make new friends here, and would be happy.

She was obviously listening, but she didn't have much to say. Alan knew she needed time to adjust, to think things through. He stood, and thanked Tim for his support, and suggested he and Donna needed some time alone to talk. Tim agreed and, offering help if he was needed, left Alan and Donna alone. Alan sat next to his wife, put an arm around her and pulled her in to his side. She laid her head on his shoulder, and he didn't try to talk anymore. He didn't try to push her to talk, either. It was enough that they were together, and that she finally knew the truth. It was good that the secrets were out. He knew she would need some time to adjust to the new facts of their lives, before she could begin to consider where their family would go from here. He was content to sit in silence and hold her close, before they needed to make plans for moving forward.

*    *    *

The kids got back before dinner time, with bags full of notebooks, pens, markers, and other supplies. Jensen took his haul up to the room he and Alan shared. And since there were no other boarders at the moment, the family had the dining room to themselves for dinner.

Mackenzie was going full force with animated chatter, attempting to bring Jensen up to date with all the goings on in the neighborhood, including the Murphys' pregnant cat who had given birth to six orange kittens, along with what Jensen’s old friends were up to, who was dating who, who wasn't speaking to whoever else, and why. It felt almost like a happy reunion. Alan joined in where he could, but their efforts didn't quite cover for Donna’s silence.

Donna couldn't meet Jensen's gaze, but she couldn't keep from watching him as he ate, and conversed with his dad, and teased his sister. He tried to draw his mom into conversation, too, but without much success. He could feel her eyes on him, and he wished she would just talk to him. Her silent observation felt creepy. He had a bad moment when he suddenly thought she might blame him for everything that had happened. Did his mom believe it was his fault? Had he somehow brought it on himself? Suddenly it was hard to breathe. His heart rate sped up and he wondered why everyone else in the room couldn't hear it pounding away in his chest. He sent an anxious glance in her direction, but she wasn't looking at him just then. And then Mack grabbed his arm and shook it, asking a question he had to ask her to repeat, after he gasped in surprise and shook himself out of his sudden panic. He kept slanting glances at his mom, but she never seemed to be looking back, he couldn't catch her eye. And his dad appeared to notice nothing wrong.

He gave it up, after a while. He was tired, and his appetite had fled. He played idly with his fork and smiled absently at Mack's prattling until Alan announced that maybe everyone needed to take a little time on their own in their rooms.

He’d rented two additional rooms for the night: Mackenzie had her own, a ruffled, flowery wallpapered little candybox, and Jensen had the room he and his dad had been sharing. Ms. Abbott put Alan and Donna in her best room, with a view of the mountains beyond the forest, and a vast, kingsized bed.

Once they were alone, though Alan reached for his wife, to ease the loneliness both of them had been suffering, she didn't want sex. But she was glad to be held, to have his arms around her, and for the familiarity of him breathing next to her as she tried to sort through the strange turn her son's life had taken, and how she was ever going to deal with that fact, of Jensen's future, and Mack's, and of their family's future.

Alan laid awake for a long time, aware that this was only the beginning of the tough adjustments and conversations they would need to have.

The bed was empty when Alan woke. The sheets were cold, though it was early enough the room was still awash in grey dawnlight. He lifted his head, "Donna?"

"Here."

He turned his gaze to the window, where she sat in an armchair facing the view. "It's really beautiful here," she said.

"Yes, it is," he agreed, sitting up. "Why are you up so early?"

"Couldn't sleep," she confessed.

He pulled on the robe he'd tossed over the footboard and sat beside her at the window in the matching armchair. She was already dressed, and as his glance took in more of the dimly lit room, he saw her suitcases were waiting beside the door. "You're leaving?"

Her expression was stricken, but firm, when her eyes met his, and she nodded.

"But—there's so much to talk about. So much you still don't know, things we need to decide, as a family—"

"I can't stay," she said, and though her voice carried a tinge of regret, it held no indecisiveness.

"Sweetheart."

"I can't stay, Alan." He could see the tear tracks, illuminated as the sun's first rays breached the treeline. "I missed him so much. I imagined every kind of horror when he was taken, when we couldn't find him, when time dragged on, and we heard nothing. I couldn't stand thinking about him, about where he might be—or that he might be dead." She sniffed, and blew her nose on the tissue in her hand. "Gradually, I guess I made myself put some distance between the pain and my life as it was happening. I had to keep living, I had to take care of Mackenzie—and you. I had to, or I wouldn't have survived."

Tears glimmered as she looked at him. "When you told me he'd been found—it was a minute before I could breathe. I couldn't believe it. And then I was so enormously happy I just couldn't deal with it. I couldn't wait to see him. To get to him, I dismissed all worries and suspicions of the cloak and dagger stuff that went on to get Mack and me here. It didn't matter, because I was going to see my boy!"

She wiped with her fingers at the tears that hadn't stopped falling. "And now, I can't—I can't look at him. He's so different, so—" She raised a glance to him she couldn't hold. "It's not just that he's grown, matured, while he's been gone. I expected that, though I did think there would be something left of the boy I raised."

"How can you say that? He's still that boy. He needs his parents, his family—"

"No." Her voice was flat, implacable. "He's—something else, now. Can't you feel it?" A delicate shudder went through her, though she tried to suppress it. "The whole town—I can sense it, running like a strange undercurrent, some unfamiliar energy beneath and behind every normal-appearing thing I see."

"Sweetheart, you're imagining things. These are good people—"

"Not people, Alan. Stop pretending they are. They're not the same as us. They're different, not human, no matter how much they look like it, and how much they try to pretend."

He just listened, shocked to silence, as she went on. "I can feel it. It's making me ill, to be here. I have to leave."

"But—Jensen," he pled. "Our son needs us, needs his family."

Her smile was sad as she put a conciliatory hand on his arm. "He has a new family now. And they can teach him and care for him in his new life far better than we can."

He couldn't think fast enough of any lucid, logical argument, and her hand tightened a little before she released him. "I'm taking Mack. I can't leave her here in this...place."

"What if she wants to stay? What if Jensen wants her to stay? And I say she's welcome to stay if she wants?"

"Then I'll divorce you and get full custody." She didn't raise her voice. This wasn't anger, this was conviction. Her attitude left him reeling.

"Donna!"

"I'm not leaving our child here at the mercy of werewolves."

"But that's exactly what you're doing—to Jensen. You're abandoning him!"

She smiled at him kindly as she rose from her chair. "I'm not. He has others to teach him, now." She picked up the cardigan draped across her suitcase and put a hand on the doorknob. "And you." The smile broadened a little. "At least for now. I hope you'll soon see sense, though, and come home to us."

She turned the knob. "Mackenzie needs to get ready to leave. I trust you'll arrange for us to be driven home?"

"Donna, the house isn't safe. We need to talk more about this—make plans, to move, to get you—and Mack, if you insist on taking her with you—someplace safe to live."

"We'll do that, by phone, if you can't come home yet. But I can't stay here any longer." She was through the door, but looked back to say, "Please arrange for the drive, dear. I want to leave after breakfast."

And she was gone, down the corridor to Mack's room.

What was he supposed to do now?

Mackenzie wasn't in her room, and Jensen's door was open, his room empty. A tickle of uneasiness propelled Donna downstairs and through the empty lobby, until she saw Mack's bright head in the morning light, she and her brother in two of the rocking chairs on the porch. They were talking and laughing, much the way they had always done, when things were normal. Donna felt the same urgency to get herself and her daughter out of town and away from these strangers, but something—memory, nostalgia, possibly even mother-love, momentarily overcame, or at least delayed, her bursting onto the porch to separate her children, to send Mackenzie to pack, and to leave the boy who had been born to her behind, rejected and abandoned.

Such melodrama. She shook her head at her own folly, drew a deep breath, and took a step back. A few moments' delay wasn't going to hurt anything. And it might ease the inevitable pain of separation, for both her children.

A sound in the dining room informed her that Ms. Abbott's staff was about, preparing the room for breakfast. Very well. She would wait until after the meal to send Mackenzie to pack.

While Mack argued and protested, Jensen stared, from his mom to his dad, in wordless appeal, before the truth sunk in. His mother wasn't going to reconsider. To her mind, he was already in her past, someone she no longer knew or cared for. He didn't understand how he knew, but the certainty nearly took him to his knees. And his dad, though trying to be strong for both his children, was just as devastated as Jensen.

"Mack." Jensen reached to take her hand. "This is pointless. Come on, let's get you packed."

"Jenny!" She spun on him, disbelief and shock in every atom of her right at that moment. "You can't just—" She turned to her dad. "Daddy, you can't let her—"

"Mackenzie, we're not going to argue now. Your mother needs to leave."

"Well, let her go, then! I'm staying."

"I'm not leaving you here," Donna said, and Mack knew the look in her mother's eye. She wouldn't be argued out of whatever she'd decided, and she wouldn't be defied.

"But—Jensen," she appealed to both parents. "We just found him. We can't—"

"Mackenzie, go pack your things. We're leaving in half an hour." Donna turned to her husband. "If the car will be ready then?"

Alan could do no more than nod.

Jensen tugged her by the hand. "Come on, Little Bit. Let's get you packed up."

And something in his voice, something in his expression made her relinquish her fight and follow him.

"Don't be long!" their mother's voice followed them up the stairs.

Jensen wasn't waiting now for his parents' permission. Something in his mother's demeanor, and some deep acquiescence in his father's, made him wonder if he'd ever see his baby sister again, once she drove away from Wolverton. He took both her hands in his and sat her on the edge of the bed. "Mackie, you have to listen to me—no. It's my turn to talk and I don't have long. Mom may not want me to talk to you—be with you."

"But why?" she wailed. "I don't understand what's—"

He shook her hands a little. "The men who took me," he had her attention, he couldn't take the time to soften this. "They were werewolves." When she opened her mouth to speak, he tightened his grip on her wrists. "Yes, it's true. Yes, they exist. And they bit me." She shook her head in denial and tried to pull away, drew breath to speak, and once more he held her hands tighter, shook her to bring her focus back to him. "I'm a werewolf. Dad knows. He told Mom. And she can't deal with it. That's why she's leaving."

She'd stopped trying to get her hands free, stopped trying to move away, to speak. She just looked at him, taking in his familiar features, disbelief warring with the truth she saw in his eyes. "I can't tell you what to think, Mack, how to feel. But you ought to know the truth." He sent a swift glance to the hallway outside the door. "She's probably going to be angry that I told you, but I had to. If you still love me—" Mackenzie pulled her hands free and threw her arms around his neck.

"Don't be stupid, Jensen," she said, her voice wobbly with new-sprung tears. "You're still my big brother. I'll always love you."

She squeezed hard, and he held her just as tight. "Okay." The relief he felt was much greater than he had expected. "Okay, we'll figure out a way to keep in touch. I'll call, or write, or email—something."

"If she lets us," Mack said.

"Yeah," Jensen had to agree. It looked like his Mom wanted to cut all ties with him. Maybe their dad could run interference. He hoped so, anyway. His ears picked up footsteps at the bottom of the stairs, and he gave Mack a quick hard hug before he turned her loose, got up to retrieve her bag and set it on the bed.

"No, you're the one who's going to have to search under the bed," he told her, his smirk and raised eyebrow in place. "You've probably got nine shoes and a couple of purses under there by now."

She was quick on the uptake, sliding to her knees and lifting the bedskirt. "I didn't even bring nine shoes with me," she scoffed. She did emerge with a single sneaker, then stood and scanned the floor for its mate. She and Jensen looked at the same moment toward the doorway where Donna stood.

"Ten minutes," she said to Mackenzie. She didn't even look at Jensen.

He smiled anyway and reassured her. "She'll be down in time."

Their mother lingered in the doorway, as if hesitating to leave them alone together. Mackenzie broke first, turning to retrieve her things from the dresser drawer. Jensen moved toward the closet. "Anything in here?"

"A couple of things," his sister said, and when they looked again, Donna was gone.

The bags were loaded and the motor was running. The driver and a second man were already in the car. Mack hugged her dad, and whispered, "Fix her!" before turning him loose. She turned to Jensen and clung to him fiercely.

He murmured. "Gonna be okay, Little Bit," hoping she picked up on the list of: You, I, the situation, Mom, he was referring to. She sniffled, and batted at her eyes with one hand.

"Hope so," she said, turning him loose.

Alan held onto Donna, and she hugged him back, before they stepped apart. She turned toward the car, then stopped and walked straight to Jensen. She wrapped him up in a tight hug, held on for a minute or two and told him. "Always love you, son."

"You too, Mama." He held on tight till she stepped away and got into the car, and it was pulling onto the street in the next minute. Mack waved for as long as she was in sight. Donna never looked back.

Lee watched the car pull away, saw Ackles move up to put an arm around the kid's shoulders. Jensen didn't lean in, though. He stood straight, watching his mother and sister leave.

"I'm so sorry, Jensen," Alan said. "I had no idea."

Jensen eased out from under his dad's arm. "Yeah, well. It's a surprise. It hit her pretty hard."

No harder than it had hit the kid when he found himself turned, Lee thought.

Alan offered, "Maybe she'll come around. I'll work on her."

Jensen threw him a weak grin. "Thanks." He moved toward the door and stopped. "I don't want to lose Mack, too," he appealed to his father. "Don't let her keep us apart."

Alan sighed heavily. "I wish I could promise, son. But I swear, I'll do what I can. Did you tell Mack?" Jensen nodded, and he asked, "How did she take it?"

The composure the kid had fought for cracked. His features twisted and tears sprang to his eyes. "Good," he said. "Like a champ."

Alan nodded in relief.

"No time for Q&A, but I got a hug and a fierce poke in the ribs for doubting her." The grin was heartening.

Alan's arms engulfed his son and he declared, voice rough with emotion, "I have great kids."

Jensen stood it for a minute before he eeled out of his dad's hold and punched him gently in the shoulder. "Your fault—you raised us."

Lee watched silently as the father and son stepped back inside. He would never understand humans, how a mother could just reject and abandon her child. He'd seen it with wolves, of course, but usually because the mother was incapable of caring for her young. Donna had just seemed cold and anxious to leave Jensen behind.

Alan, though, was as dedicated a father as Lee had ever known, even through the tough circumstances his son had experienced, and was still likely to face.

And Jensen— Lee knew the kid had been through a rough turning, with no support, at all. He had managed to get himself out of a bad situation, find help, and was fast adjusting to pack life. The kid was strong, for an omega.

The fact remained. Lee still didn't understand humans.

Comments are like fuel for the soul || Master Post | Chapter 2 | Chapter 4