A number of things happened after that. You'd say they happened in no particular order, but that would be a lie.
It started after you called your mother. You'd been putting it off and putting it off, again and again, until you couldn't any longer.
She didn't pick up the first two times you called. That wasn't a good sign, yet you persisted. Luckily --or rather, unluckily-- she answered the phone on the third ring of the third attempt.
You should have just left a message.
"Y/N?" Your name was badly slurred, but you'd heard it like that so many times that you still recognized it. She'd been drinking. You could practically smell the cheap vodka over the transceiver. She'd been drinking again, even after she promised--
You didn't want to fight with her.
"Hi, Mom," you said, trying --and failing-- to sound bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Instead, you just sounded tired. "I wanted to let you know I finished up early and I'm coming home."
"Home?" She sounded confused.
"Yes. I thought you'd want to know, before I just showed up." Your mother always had a habit of making you feel like a guest in your own home.
There was a bit of static, followed by shuffling noises. She was probably peeling herself off of whatever horizontal surface she had passed out on. "I don't think that's a very good idea, Y/N," she sighed.
It was your turn to sound confused. "Why?"
"I've been thinking..."
After a long --too long-- pause, you prodded her, "Yeah?"
You should have just hung up.
"I think... I think I realize now why I never loved you."
You were stunned into silence. You always suspected she didn't, but hearing her admit it --plain as day-- broke something fragile inside you that had already been cracked.
"You remind me so much of my mother. So cold and distant, as if you were made of dry ice, like touching you would only hurt us both."
You tried to swallow but found you couldn't. Not around all your rage. "I'm your daughter, Mom. Not hers. I am what you made me." Again, you should have just hung up, forgot this call ever happened. No doubt she would deny everything she said once she sobered up. But you couldn't resist asking, "Why did you even have me, if you weren't going to love me?"
"A drowning woman will clutch at straws. Your father was moving up in the world, out of that frozen hell... He wouldn't have taken me with him if I hadn't been pregnant with you. You saved me. That being said, you should have died in the womb. As soon as I had that ring on my finger, I did everything in my power to miscarriage. You always were a fighter, though. From birth to now, you fought me every step of the way."
"I fought for my life." And you meant it.
She laughed, high and light as a helium balloon disappearing into the stratosphere. "What is a home if not the first place you run from?"
"You... You...!" You could call her all manner of nasty names. It wouldn't change a goddamn thing.
"I don't think it's a good idea to come back here. Now, or ever. I wish you luck in the world, Y/N. You're gonna need it." Click.
You held the phone to your ear for a long time after that. She was drunk, you told yourself. She didn't mean it, you told yourself. Lies, all lies. Your mother was never more honest than when she had a few drinks in her.
Your heart and head pounded like synchronized drums as you remembered all the things she said to you. I never loved you... I never loved you... I never loved you... You should have died, you should have died, you should have died!
"Y/N," a familiar voice called out. Lanius. But she sounded an ocean away, like your head was fathoms underwater.
You wondered how much she heard, how much she knew. One thing you missed since moving into her abode was privacy. There were no secrets, no locked doors, in her house.
You didn't turn to look at her, lest your expression give you away. Instead, you tiptoed down the ice-slick front porch steps before padding through the snow towards the edge of the woods.
You were still dressed in your pajamas and slippers, which did nothing to keep you warm. It was so cold that it hurt a little... But only a little. You'd already been outside long enough for your lips, nose, fingers, and toes to turn blue.
You shook and shivered, but not due to the freezing temperatures. If anything, you felt skillet-hot, skin tingling all over. And you were certainly sweating buckets.
"Woah, woah, woah!" Lanius said. You heard rather than saw her follow you. "That's a bad idea, hun." She grabbed your elbow, used her superior size to stop you in your tracks.
You used the momentum to swing yourself around. Crack!
The sound of the slap rang out as loud as a gunshot. Your palm stung as surely as her cheek must. It was a wonder you didn't cut yourself, her cheekbones were so sharp. It produced the desired effect. She let go of you.
"Who asked you?!" You snarled. "No one! Leave me alone!" You were lashing out. You were acutely aware of this fact, yet couldn't stop yourself. Maybe this is why your mother confessed to you. It felt good to hurt for once, rather than be hurt.
More than that, though, you just wanted to get away.
But you didn't get far. You weren't more than a dozen feet away when you were grabbed by the waist and held aloft.
"That's enough of that," Lanius said. Her tone wasn't cool, but it was calm.
"Let go!" You shrieked. She held you at arms' length as she turned you around, towards her. You only got a brief glimpse at her expression before you were casually tossed over her shoulder. She didn't look angry, but looks could be deceiving. Once the air returned to your lungs, you beat your fists against her back, screaming, "Let go, let go, let go!" You sounded a little like a petulant child.
"I think not," she answered gruffly. Back to the porch, through the front door, and then a quick left to head upstairs to the master bedroom.
She kicked the door shut behind her before laying you on the bed, supporting your head on the way down like you were a baby. The only thanks she got was a glob of spit in her eye and your teeth sunken into the meat of her palm.
"You'd make a good wolf," you thought you heard over the roaring in your ears. You weren't in a mindset where you were capable of decrypting whatever the hell that meant.
While you were preoccupied with trying to gnaw a bite off of her, she deftly wrapped you up into a blanket. Once you were swaddled tight as a newborn (or maybe a rabid animal that needed to be put down), she climbed into bed and spooned your quilt cocoon. Her arm held down the flaps that, if loosened, would release you from your binds.
That didn't stop you from struggling with all your might, trying to break free some other --any other-- way.
"I hate you!" You howled, still blind with fury, seeing nothing but red. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you--!"
"You're alright, honeybun. You're okay. Spit and bite and struggle all you want. I'm never letting you go." The words sounded almost threatening but, to your broken heart, were also vaguely comforting.
...
It took hours for you to calm down, for the fervor and the frenzy to drain from you. You wanted to run. You wanted to scream. You wanted to hurt, in more ways than one. Maybe punch the wall until either it or your fist broke. It would have sped up the process... But you could do none of these things.
Your only expansion of energy was when, every so often, you'd thrash like a fish on a hook, testing Lanius' hold, trying to catch her slacking. It never worked, though.
Obviously violence wasn't the answer. Plan B. Talk out your feelings, at least a little bit.
"I'm hot," you complained, because it seemed the safest place to begin.
"Are you going to hit or scratch me if I free your arms?"
You chewed the inside of your cheek, seriously debating it. It wouldn't get you anywhere, though. "No."
"Okay," she replied, so trusting for someone who you slapped without warning earlier. She proceeded to turn you around in her arms until you were facing her. Still, you didn't meet her eyes.
Next she peeled off layers of blankets, quilts, and coverlets until your arms were free, allowing some of your sweat to dry, cooling you off a little in the process.
You didn't know what to actually do with them, though, just looked at your hands for a while. Eventually, Lanius made the choice for you, pulling you closer until they were crushed between your bodies.
"I'm sorry," you said at last. It felt like a confession. In a way, admissions of guilt always were.
"For what?" Her tone wasn't one of condescension. You hated when people did that, not accepting your apology without making you put into words what you did wrong. But, if anything, she made it sound like you'd done nothing wrong. Except you had. Big time.
"For losing my shit. For lashing out."
"Oh, that's okay. Animals caught in traps always bite, even those that are just trying to help them. Comes with the territory. Was that another panic attack?"
You nodded sheepishly, still avoiding her gaze, even as she peered into your face.
"We should really come up with a few coping strategies for when you get overwhelmed. I want to help... I just don't know how."
You shrugged sulkily.
"I think it might be time for me to go," you said.
"I think you should stay," she disagreed. How could she still say that after what you did?
"I don't belong here."
"Where do you belong, if not here, with me?" Those two simple words tacked on to the end of her question made your heart pound. Still, you wouldn't be swayed.
"I don't know. That's something I need to figure out for myself." There was no hurry. You had plenty of time to do so. You were still young, after all.
"Stay here. Stay with me," she pleaded, holding you just a bit tighter, even though she knew you'd already made up your mind to leave.
"You've been nothing but kind to me, Lanius..." You sighed.
"But?"
You thought of your father. He loved your mother more than life itself, but love wasn't enough to repair a damaged human being.
The only person who could save you was you. Your mother never put in the effort, so she never got better. Eventually, your father realized that and decided to leave. You didn't hold it against him. You just wished he had taken you with him.
You were your mother's daughter, but that didn't mean you had to share her fate.
"But I need to work on myself. The only person who can make me better is me."
"I could help," Lanius offered, sounding so hopeful that it broke your heart.
"No... This is something I have to do on my own. I'm sorry."
She let out a little sigh through her nose. "I am, too."
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Mr Wolf, Mr Wolf, what time is it?
Eleven o'clock...
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