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A/N - Okay, this kinda grew again. More introspection and development.

Chapter 7 - Remembering the Past and Cursing the Future

"We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered."

Tom Stoppard

Thompson State Forest

New London, NH

October 16, 2011

"Mike. We've got to talk."

At those words, almost sounding forced, my entire mood and outlook changed. I had expected a calm evening relaxing and catching up, nothing major to do with this weekend...I just wanted to know that the old Amy I knew that lifetime ago was still there. I thought I knew that she was...that's why I had acted so...well, normal with her, but her words...her voice somehow changed that for me. They caused me to question her. This Amy wore my Amy's face and body, and had all of the same mannerisms I remembered, but after the events of this weekend...

Returning to this cabin had been like flipping a switch. I thought I could feel the spirits...souls if you will, of my murdered family. The presence of these lycans had to be more than just some coincidence...particularly from those bite marks. That look that I had seen in the eyes of David, that feral look of hatred, completely devoid of reason and...I don't know if humanity is the word I was trying to pull out of the recesses of my mind, but it fit the bill. It seemed as if these 'Lycans' could have easily been their killers. But, I did grow up with these people...and Amy had done nothing but support me this entire time. I just couldn't see her being involved and figured I needed to give her the benefit of the doubt.

I looked across the hood of the jeep at Amy. Her face was as somber and serious as her tone had been. Her piercing emerald eyes tried to bore into me. I bit back a wince as a twinge of regret coursed through me for what I had both done and not done over the past decade and a half. I met her eyes, hoping that my own didn't convey the regret coursing through my veins, but rather nothing...the same determined, say-nothing stare that I had cultivated over the past fifteen years. Sometimes it worked to show nothing.

I had just gotten too good at it over my lifetime.

"Food first." I replied, forcing a smile onto my face. "Talk later." I dreaded this talk, the why did you run away, what did I do wrong, and all of the other deeply personal questions that she would want me to answer. I had my skeletons, no doubt about that, and I'm certain that she would try to pry them out of the closets where they were currently sequestered...hidden from the world...from those they could destroy. Her tone and mannerisms also seemed to suggest that she had a pretty significant concern that she wanted to discuss.

That feeling that swam deep in my guts...that called out trouble, with an almost supernatural efficacy? Well, it was back. Back with a bit of a vengeance.

"Fine. We've got a lot to discuss though, Mike." Her reply was clearly audible, although slightly muffled by the slamming of the rear driver's side door as Amy retrieved dinner, a family size package of sirloins with potatoes and asparagus. Hopefully one of us could cook...even if I may be the only one here that wanted it seared.

Starting to walk toward the cabin I felt the stiffness of my leg and the accompanying unfamiliarity with walking with it, or rather attempting to. It took a try or two to get my body used to how it could move with its current injuries, although my body still complained with every movement. Loki followed just behind me as I walked toward the heavy wooden door.

To my right, in the corner of the porch, my memory conjured up Sarah's pitiful body as I had found her those few nights ago. My mind had been trying to adapt, to overcome the shock from everything that had happened in these woods, over the past few days, and I think it was during that trip back to this place that everything fell into place. I opened the rough-hewn plank door and ventured back over that threshold.

Almost nothing had changed, just been cleaned. The damage had been repaired, the window replaced and all the contents of the upholstery and drawers replaced and repaired from the search that had evidently gone on there. On the table I saw a small pile of my belongings, along with a receipt from the local auto shop. Apparently the Suburban was being repaired and refurbished and was due to be finished today. I saw that all of my gear, my rifle, sidearm, cell phone and everything else that I needed had been cleaned and placed near the pile with care.

Amy had followed me in, breaking the short reverie I was having. Her arms were full of the grocery bags that contained our dinner and she made her way directly toward the kitchen.

"How do you want the steak? Well done?" Her tone was back to being its normal jocular self, although I knew that it would go to its seriousness back later. Thoughts poured through the back of my mind. Foremost among them was whether she was trying to toy with me?

"No, medium-rare. Just sear the two sides and warm it a spot. Do you need a hand?" I hated being waited on, but I knew my limitations. I also thought I knew Amy, or that I had known her, and realized that I was probably just being polite with the offer.

"No, I'm fine. The grill's just out back and I wanted the fresh air anyway. Plus, I saw you try to take yourself out when you got out of the jeep. Just take it easy. Someone's got to watch out for you. Since it won't be you, may as well be me."

As she was cooking the dinner I tried to get all of my belongings together, at least a little bit. My sidearm went right back onto my hip. Even though I was in what I had assumed was a safe environment not even a week ago, my sense of self-preservation...or was it paranoia?...couldn't allow me to not be armed. Everything else went back into my bailout or suitcase as appropriate. Even that motion significantly helped stretch muscles back out and significantly decreased the discomfort from moving.

Once that was settled, I hobbled, or rather now walked to the sofa and sat, allowing my mind to wander. A weight settled in my lap and I saw those chocolate brown eyes of Loki looking up at me as he laid his head on my lap. I absently scratched behind his ear as my mind continued to piece together my life.

My life in this town had been ordinary enough. I was just a standard kid. Grow up, get hurt doing so, make a friendship and then lose that friendship. Only, I happened to have grown up in a town where werewolves, err Lycans, were common, and that one friend was one of them. The loss of that friendship, a loss that now more than ever seemed orchestrated by someone outside the two of us, had sent me into the Navy. I didn't begrudge the service, but the events of those last two years would haunt me for the rest of my life.

I had been getting increasing flashbacks from that imprisonment five years ago. The nightmare that had woken me scant days ago, before all of this started, was by no means my first, and would by no means be my last. I could remember bits and pieces of my incarceration, but until this week, they had all seemed unreal...dreamlike. Now with what I knew, my mind was finally realizing what I had done...what I had destroyed.

And now I questioned whether it deserved to destroy me, or rather whether I could prevent it from doing so.

Sarah had been trying to resume communication with me throughout my duty. Heck, she had even tracked me down after I started in Boston. I still had the letters, unopened stored beneath the bed at my apartment.

My reminiscence was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and Amy walking through, carrying plates piled high with dead cow flesh and vegetables. I felt Loki's head jerk under my hand as both of us stared at the meat as it passed us. I think I may actually have been drooling. I hadn't had a good meal in too long.

"Dinner'll be ready in a couple minutes. Just let me get the plates." Amy was still bustling around the kitchen, finishing final preparations and grabbing seasonings from the cabinets. Determined to make myself useful I made my way to the refrigerator.

"Drink?" I queried as I pulled out a brown bottle of local lager.

"Sam's fine. Thanks." Apparently she was a little less adventurous I thought. I pulled a second brown bottle out and made my way to the table, placing the bottles, sans caps, at our respective seats around the small table.

At that, Amy came over to the table, arms filled with plates. There were three plates. And four steaks.

"Hungry are we?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow. "And...are you trying to corrupt my dog?"

Her only reply was to flash a quick grin and place one plate on the floor between the two of us. It seemed Loki was there even before I could blink. She deftly split between the other two plates, placing one steak before me and the other steaks in front of her own before taking her seat.

"What's with the name Loki, anyway. I thought Fenrir was the wolf?" Great. She wanted to know how I named my dog? Really?

"Fenrir is the wolf. Loki was his father and, more importantly, a major trickster. Loki here," I stated, gesturing to my companion, "Well, there's a reason I'm missing the right shoe from three different pairs of dress shoes. He'd take one of my shoes and bury it. I found a few of them, but he got good at covering his tracks. He's also good at being in the way. I've tripped over him more than once. He just sits and watches when it happens too. I think it amuses him."

Her laugh hadn't changed. That was refreshing. I was beginning to wonder how much of my concern was valid, and how much was overwrought worry.

Dinner passed quickly. We chatted, mostly small talk. Once we had cleared everything out of the way, I realized that food was done. Talk was next.

"Amy, what did you want to talk about earlier? You've lived up to your end of this bargain. Now it's my turn." My nerves were beginning to fire...to worry me. Hopefully my voice didn't show too much of that. I didn't detect it, but would Amy?

"Mike, you've been through a lot this last week. I figured I owed it to you to explain what happened. There's also something... personal." My nod was enough to have her continue.

"Mike, as you know, I am a Lycan. We feature the best and worst traits of man and wolf. The scientific explanation is a little out of my league, but it's related to a mutated rabies virus. We are not werewolves. We don't make other into beings like us, we don't tell anyone who isn't one of us or highly trusted by more than one of us, and we don't attack or eat humans. These are three of our highest laws. Sadly, some of our people will break these laws. Our life is one of a duality, of beast and man. I try to shift nightly to acclimatize my body and mind to the beast which also lives within me, but others avoid it. They fear the beast. They never learn how to live with it and they lose control. Others lose control to stress or anger. Your life has been affected by some of these beasts."

"My parents?"

"Yes, although we were not at fault. One of our young pups was kidnapped, much as happened to Sarah. Your parents stumbled into the ceremony where the pup was being killed. There was nothing that they could do, but your father tried to help anyway. The killers attacked him and the other rangers with them. Your mother was ended up going down the widowmaker. These bastards just tossed your father down the slope as he was bleeding out. He didn't survive."

"But what about the bite mark?"

"That, I don't know. I don't remember seeing it when I found your mother. She was in bad shape. She had broken her back and was, I believe, bleeding internally. I came out to her in my human form...the form she recognized. There was nothing medical science could do. I'm sorry, Mike. I can bring you to where she lies tomorrow. I wanted to bury your father near her, but there was too much activity near your father's body after I finished with your mother."

I was at a loss for words. I had always expected that she was dead, but to be dead because of some vendetta against these Lycans? What did she have to do with anything?

"Mike, your mother had one last request. She only asked me one thing, to keep you safe...and to reconcile. Of course, I agreed. You see, she knew I cared for you. And I do, very much."

"Is that the 'something personal,' Amy?" I asked, still trying to wrap my head around everything.

"Yes, it is. I wanted to say yes all those years ago, but I couldn't give away my secret because of the laws of the pack. In order to keep the secret, our alpha ordered that we may only mate with other lycans. The letters were because I wanted to keep in contact. I wanted to be your friend if I couldn't be your lover, however that's all changed. In the years after your leaving, however, his stance was softened. He gave permission to general mixed marriages before he died last year. I'm sure the current alpha would do the same. So...I want to say yes."

My heart leapt back into my throat. This was all just too sudden, but I knew I didn't deserve what she was offering. Not after my actions all those years ago. I lifted my head to look at her. The eager look in her eyes and pleading expression on her face showed that she wasn't trying to cheer me up, but that she really felt this way.

I saw the jubilant look on her face fall as my own eyes told her my answer. My own dead eyes.

"I'm sorry Amy. Part of me wants to go forward, but even that part feels it's much too fast. Another part of me, with everything that's happened, well, I don't know if I can anymore. I don't blame you, but I need to get my head straight. Forgive the clichéd, stale line, but it's not you. It's me. I'm sorry, but I just want to sleep on all of this."

With that, I left her stunned and saddened face to walk over to the bedroom. Closing the door, I slid myself under the covers and was out in no time. Surprisingly, my mind had just shut down, not bothering with trying to piece together everything that Amy had told me that night. However, it did bring me back somewhere that I emphatically did not want to be. Back to my memory of the day when my life became forfeit.

I found myself in a barely lit concrete room. A dim overhead lamp cast a dim glow over everything. This cell had been my home for the past eighteen months now. I had just enough food to survive, and just enough water, but the malnutrition had sapped my strength. I had given up on survival and was hoping for death. With a clank, the heavy steel door opened out, flooding the cell in white, artificial light. Two rough sets of hands grabbed me under my arms and dragged me through the cellways to a large, open area.

As my eyes adjusted to the light, I realized that I was standing in a large storeroom. I could feel one of my captors standing directly behind me. Looking up, I saw a clear ceiling ringed by other dim figures. There were also cameras ringing the room. It looked ominously like some sort of betting ring. A hard shape was pressed into my side.

"Take this and use it," hissed the voice from my captor. "If you listen, freedom will be yours. Don't be stupid, either. The room will fill with cyanide gas in three minutes." With that, the clang of the door behind me, punctuated by the clank of the lock, was all that momentarily broke the silence of the room..

Gripping the object that had been slid into my waistband, I found a Beretta 92, my sidearm. Quickly checking the weapon, I saw it was loaded and ready to go.

I saw the bound body that was walked to the center of the room. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It looked like some movie monster. The grey fur that covered its body was matted with dirt, blood and sweat. Its amber eyes looked at me, pleading around the muzzle that clamped its jaws shut.

"Kill it," shouted a new voice from an overhead speaker.

I lifted the pistol, but couldn't bring myself to aim at the creature. The muzzle of the pistol just kept swaying to the side. This...thing was no threat to me...so why would I shoot it. The odd thing was that the creature seemed to follow the muzzle, almost as if it wanted this.

"Kill it or we kill you both!"

The creature's pleading eyes stayed locked on me as it wimpered, almost as if it was in pain. At this I started and stopped trying to avoid the creature. The creature took that chance and showed me its desire. It placed its forehead directly against the muzzle of the Beretta. I scratched the creature behind the ears once, swearing I could almost hear someone speaking the word 'please.'

"I'm sorry." I closed my eyes and pulled the trigger, feeling the recoil of the shot.

The creature's blood spilled over me, warm, wet and sticky. I felt its strength rapidly ebbing away. I closed my eyes, breathing a sigh of relief, but when I opened my eyes, I was met with one of the most sickening sights I could have even considered.

Before me, drenching my barely clothed body in his blood was a young boy, barely even a teenager. I fell to my knees in front of the body, shocked. This kid should have been no threat to me, and yet...I shot him...dead. My pistol fell to the concrete floor next to me as I realized that I must have been hallucinating. People can't change from wolf-man to a teenage boy; my frenzied mind told me there's no such thing as werewolves. And I believed it. I stood up, almost as if expecting that I would be freed when I felt my head grow strangely heavy.

"But you said..." My words were cut short as I fell to the ground.

"We lied."

I awoke with a start. I was back in the cabin. It was morning and the sun was just starting to peek over the horizon.

I wasn't hallucinating. I really killed some lycan all those years ago. I didn't know why this was so gut-wrenching to me now. I had conditioned myself to believe that I had shot some poor kid. Some human teen. I had dealt with the guilt of killing a human kid for half a decade now. A guilt that I had shared with no one. What made this different now that I knew I hadn't been hallucinating? Why was I so guilty now that I knew that those pleading eyes really were puppy-dog eyes?

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I padded toward the bathroom to shower and try to clear my head.

After showering and dressing, I walked into the living room. Amy was back in her fur, lying on the floor in front of the couch, curled up like some oversized dog. She did look amazing, even in this form, and maybe a little cute. I almost chuckled when a deep, husky voice caught me by surprise.

"Laugh and die." Amy's head came up to gaze at me. I think the smile was intended to be humorous, but wasn't so sure. "Are you okay? That was quite a racket you made in there."

"Yeah, just a nightmare. I have a favor to ask, though. I want to go home for a bit...just try and get my head straight. Thank you for your hospitality, but I think I just need to get away for a bit."

"Of course. I can bring you to your mother when you return." She didn't sound overjoyed at my request, but she also didn't sound surprised.

The trip to retrieve my suburban was relatively quick. As we loaded it up at the service station, I stopped Amy as she put the last piece of my gear in the truck.

"Amy, I'll call to chat in a couple days. I just need to sort some stuff out. I'm...I'm not the same guy you knew all those years ago."

"Mike, that's bull. Life changes each of us, yes, but what I like about you is still in there. You seem willing to accept what I am...Please trust that I am willing to accept you. Good luck."

At that, I climbed into the truck, Loki in the passenger seat. I had to readjust my seat, but otherwise everything was as it had been before all of this started.

As I started towards I-93, I heard the familiar strains of Johnny Cash start to come across the speakers from my CD deck. All that I knew was that music and my own thoughts.

I hurt myself today To see if I still feel I focus on the pain The only thing that's real The needle tears a hole The old familiar sting Try to kill it all away But I remember, everything

Amy, I do care for you...more than you know. I just wish I could express it.

What have I become My sweetest friend Everyone I know, goes away In the end And you could have it all My empire of dirt I will let you down I will make you hurt

Every time I meet anyone, I fail them. I failed my team in Germany. I failed that teen Lycan. I failed my parents. I even failed that boy in Boston.

I wear this crown of thorns Upon my liar's chair Full of broken thoughts I cannot repair Beneath the stains of time The feelings disappear You are someone else I am still right here

I have become a master of deception, lost my ability to feel. I am no man who can love or be worthy of love. It's just all gone.

What have I become My sweetest friend Everyone I know goes away In the end And you could have it all My empire of dirt I will let you down I will make you hurt

Amy, I wish...I wish I wouldn't hurt you. But I already have, haven't I?

If I could start again A million miles away I would keep myself I would find a way

Amy, I'm sorry.

A/N - Please read, rate and review. More to come.