You promised (Chapter 1)
#3 of You promised...
zAUTHORS NOTE: Woot! I can't believe I managed to finish this as early as I did. I think it came out pretty well. I'm still a little rusty, and desperately looking for a beta reader! I may have the next chapter out tomorrow or the day after hopefully at the latest. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read, and REVIEW! Criticism is welcome, as I would like to improve the quality of my writing. So without further ado, and no more gabbing by me... Here we go.
PROLOGUE
Fresh, untouched snow covered the ground, shining under the bright crescent moon in the sky. It was a beautiful night, calm crisp and clear. Without warning, wailing sirens shattered that calm. At the intersection of two back country roads, lay two heaps of twisted metal, lit by the spotlight of the sheriffs department car that was pulled alongside the road, red and blue lights flashing in the night sky, an ambulance rapidly approaching in the distance with it's distinctive wail growing quickly louder.
But not quickly enough, to one 17 year old, silver fox. He knelt in the middle of the road, blood quickly turning his silver fur red, from a gash on his head. But he didn't notice the pain, or the hot blood soaking his fur. He didn't notice the silent tears that were soaking into his face, or how they blurred his vision. All of his attention was focused on the wolf he now knelt over, stroking the side of his face. The wolf was on his back, arm bent at an unnatural angle, blood from numerous gashes and cuts rapidly matting his dark fur. He was silent, eyes closed. Unmoving, safe for the subtle, yet strained rise and fall of his chest.
The sheriff deputy lay a firm paw on his shoulder, squeezing, pulling him upright. He didn't resist, his mind blank from shock, and panic. Only one thought in his head. The name of his wolf. _Terry.... Terry... Terry... _He didn't even notice the paramedic, an older raccoon, giving him a gentle examination. He barely blinked as a bright light shined in his eyes, testing for reaction. He didn't do anything at all, staring straight ahead, unable to fathom what had occurred.
Outside of his stupor, paramedics were lifting the critically injure wolf onto a stretcher. Police and firefighters were desperately working on the other twisted pile of metal that had been, until a few minutes prior- a car. Working to pull the driver out, while an empty bottle of liquor lay, miraculously unbroken next to the vehicle. Persistent shouting, following by a loud and steady, but decidedly weak beeping noise was finally able to grab his attention. He slowly turned his glazed eyes toward the ambulance, and they slowly focused on the form that lay on the stretcher that was being lifted inside, accompanied by more paramedics. The sight of his wolf, Terry, on that stretcher, unconscious, was enough to finally shake him out of his shocked state.
He collapsed to his knees again, head down, sobbing uncontrollably, crying out his name, over and over, his small shoulders jerking with the strength of his misery, his head shaking in a gesture of no. Terry couldn't leave him... He couldn't.... Thoughts of his wolf only renewed his sobs, tears dropping onto the freezing pavement. His body shook, wracked with tremors brought on by the cold and the tears. The fox cried until he felt like he would throw up, and cried some more. He was barely aware as a blanket was draped over his shoulders, and he was lifted up, and placed in another ambulance, a pair of slim arms wrapped around him, as comforting words and "shh"s were whispered in his ear. He leaned into the embrace, and was barely aware of the slight prick of pain in his arm, as a needle was injected and pulled out. The world wavered slightly, and he felt himself slipping away into darkness. The last thought that went through his mind before the world went blank was _You promised you would never leave... Terry...." _
CHAPTER 1
----- 1 Month earlier----
Harman groaned, the silver fox lowered his head and rested it on the desk. How could he be so bad at math? He closed his golden eyes and sighed deeply. A sixty percent! His parents would kill him, he knew. But he studied hours every day. There was nothing left he could do. A slight shiver went through his slight body at the thought of his parents. His dad had... Never accepted that his son was gay. The way he looked at him, his tone of voice whenever he spoke to him; it filled the seventeen year old with pain, and fear.
The obnoxiously loud bell sounded, startling him and shocking him out of his introspection He sat bolt upright, and after a sight began to place his book into the bag. His paw lingered on the test for a moment, before crumpling it into a ball, and shoving it in as well. He stood up, stretching his 5 foot four inch frame, and walked out of the small classroom, not making eye contact with anyone, instead keeping his gaze low, and shoulder hunched.
Ever since it had been revealed that he was gay he had been the subject of more torment than he had ever imagined would be possible. People who had once been his friends were now among the worst of his tormentors. Not a day went by when he wasn't jeered at, shoved, or subjected to another session of abuse. After a few weeks, he had learned to keep his gaze down, and not speak to anyone. Just get from class to class, hopefully without being noticed.
As he neared his destination, his hope was shattered by a voice off to the side. "Hey, fag! Come over here and suck my big, fat cock. That's all your good for, anyway!" A chorus of mocking laughter followed. Harman swallowed. He recognized the voice- it belonged to Jack McIntyre, a bull who loved to make his life miserable. Knowing he should just keep walking, he slowly turned to the bovine and his accompanying posse'. Jack was on the wrestling team, and it was obvious looking at him, why. 350 pounds of muscle, towered over him at 8 ½ feet tall. The moment the bull saw that he had Harman's attention, he launched into another round of abuse. With each line, Harman shrank back into himself, too afraid and timid to say anything back.
"Aww look guys, the little fag doesn't is scared." His voice dropped to a malicious growl, and he took a step toward the little fox. "Maybe it's about time I gave you a real reason to be afraid." Harman took a step backward, his ears flat against his skull. There was no way he could fight this... He had never fought in his life! A small crowd had now grown around them, some faces grinning, some were unhappy, some were unreadable. Harman was terrified. He had backed up against the wall, hugging his bushy tail to his chest and shaking in fear as the enormous bull approached, smirking at him, cracking the fingers in his massive fist. "I'm going to enjoy this."
The fist raised, Harman's eyes closed waiting for the blow to fall. An instant before he moved, a voice rang out over the silent crowd. "STOP!" The voice was a warm tenor, and full of anger. Jack started, and growled loudly, face contorted in rage, red eyes darting around the crowd looking for the speaker.
"Who are you? How dare you tell me to stop! Come out and face me, fucker!" Jack spat out, shaking with anger. His request was answered; the crowd parted, and a wolf of medium height walked confidently out. Everyone's eyes were on him. Nobody recognized him, none had seen him before now. Quiet murmuring broke out in the assembled spectators. Who was this wolf? Harman stared at his savior with wide golden eyes, taking him in. The wolf was average height, but was all lean muscle. Slender, but not skinny. He wasn't physically imposing, but he stared at the bull with such intense anger burning the green orbs that Jack took a slight step back. They stared at each other, the crowd having fallen silent again.
Harman, was breathing hard, still shivering, looking between Jack and his mysterious savior anxiously. Despite the situation, he couldn't help but notice that the wolf was quite attractive. Those bright green eyes, that slim.... He immediately quashed those thoughts, irate at himself for being able to think about such things. Finally, the wolf spoke again, his voice quiet and controlled, but it contained barely constrained malice. "You, bull. Leave this fox alone. If you so much as breathe on him, you will be on the ground so fast you'll think you were in a time warp. " Jack's eyes widened. Both furious, and impressed that this wolf would have the balls to talk to him that way. But his rage beat out impressed, and he took a step toward him, raising his fist once again, growling at him with a grin. He was going to enjoy this.
"I'll teach you to mess with me, little wolf.." And he swung. What happened next, no one could believe. The wolf smoothly and easily dodged the punch, and stepped forward and with a few deft movements, knocked the bull's legs out from under him, and had him down on his back; his foot on Jack's chest, glaring down at him with a slight grin on his muzzle. There was deathly silence for a moment, and the crowd erupted. Some were shouting mocking and jeering comments, some were arguing over what had happened. But by far the majority were cheering frantically; they were ecstatic that someone finally had the courage and the cohones to stand up to Jack McIntyre. Jack himself lay on the ground, staring up at the wolf in shock. His expression changed rapidly from shocked, to furious, to impressed, to somewhere in between. The newcomer took his foot off of the bovine's chest, and stared down at him, body still tense, waiting for another strike. Jack hauled his massive body off the ground, and huffed, sizing up the wolf.
He grinned slightly. "You win today, wolf. You've saved the little faggot from the beating he deserves, for now. But he won't always have you around to protect you, will he?" By the end of the sentence, his face had returned to a scowl, and his voice had dropped to a dangerous snarl. He turned and began to walk away, but stopped and looked back. "Before I go... What is your name, wolf?" Everyone looked to the stranger, expectant. The wolf shrugged, and answered in a calm voice, the tenor notes sent shivers through Harman, who had remained silent thus far.
He said simply, "Terrance." The bull snorted, and whipped around, and walked away, followed by his original posse`. The crown began to disperse, muttering quietly. No teachers had shown up. None ever did. The silver fox stood against the wall, clutching his tail to himself still, staring at Terrance with wide eyes. Terrance himself turned to Harman, and walked toward him slowly. He stood in front of Harman, and they both looked at each other for a moment; then Terrance smiled warmly; the green eyes that had burned so fiercely with anger now sparkling, full of playfulness. Harman was entranced, lost in those eyes. Then the wolf held out a paw to the fox. "It's nice to meet you... My name is Terrance, but you can call me Terry."