{"sf1_id":2073849,"sf2_id":"k1VJQwA1","title":"The End: Chapter 21: Time and Trauma.","author":"Mojotheomegawolf","words":2964,"posted_at":"2023-11-19T17:51:00.000Z","tags":["Feral","Kate","Wolf","Wolves","Yiff","alpha and omega","humphrey"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/2073849-the-end-chapter-21-time-and-trauma","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/k1VJQwA1","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/a5/2d/a52d986e-5155-444f-a18d-82783c982d02","description":"#21 of The End\n\nChapter 21","content":"Chapter 21: Time and Trauma.  \n  \nKate's P.O.V.  \n  \nThe next three days were the longest days of my life, and, honestly  \nthere aren't even words to describe what happened. Believe me, I've  \ntried to put the events that transpired over those three days to tongue,  \nbut there are some things that are just beyond words, and I gave up  \ntrying to make sense of it all years ago. All I know is that somehow,  \nsome way, my husband defied the odds, cheated death, annnnnnnddddd  \ndiscovered that Flint's suicide was only one of many scars that my time  \nin A-School scourged upon my soul. With time, it's gotten a bit easier  \nto talk about what happened to me, but there's really only so much that  \ntime can do for a wound like this. So I apologize in advance if this  \nbecomes too much for me and I end up faltering, okay?  \n  \nOkay... So...  \n  \nTruth is, I had another friend in A-School. I was vaguely familiar with  \nDaniel before he and I shipped out to Pointe West. We had crossed paths  \na time or two, and he was nice enough, but he was always a bit of an odd  \nduck, so we didn't ever really connect. However, when he was outed as  \ngay during Zero Week, that all changed. Contrary to what many may  \nbelieve, I struggled in A-School. In spite of my bloodline and in spite  \nof the countless hours that I trained, I avoided washing back or washing  \nout by the skin of my teeth more times than I'd like to admit. As I'm  \nsure you're aware, kids can be quite cruel and they love to prey upon  \nthe weak. To them, I was a pathetic washout, and Danny, well...\n\n\u0026nbsp;Danny faced unrelenting hate and discrimination from the other students  \nas soon as his secret was revealed, so he and I quickly became the black  \nsheep in our class. The other students either shunned or bullied us on  \nthe daily, and Flint, being the friend that he was, would defend us  \nevery chance he got. This, of course, caused them to turn on him as well  \nand it wasn't long before we three were all each other had. I know it  \nsounds lonely, but honestly, we lived for it. Our shared ostracism bound  \nus together. We wore it like a badge of honor, and before long, we had  \ngrown closer than any group of friends I had ever seen. When our trio so  \nsuddenly and so tragically became a duo, Danny was my rock. He held my  \npaw at Flint's funeral. He was the only living soul to ever see me break  \ndown. I trusted him more than I ever trusted anyone before, but it is  \nbecause of him that I will never be able to fully trust anybody ever again.  \n  \nDanny was my best friend. I used to tell him all the time that if he  \nwasn't gay, I'd marry him. He would laugh his stupid, boyish laugh and  \nshoot me that goofy, crooked grin of his.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\"Marry me anyway,\" he'd jest, \"nothing says we gotta fuck.\"  \n  \n\"No offense, Danny,\" I'd reply with a roll of my eyes, \"but ya girl  \nwants to get some dick at least once in her life.\"  \n  \n\"Dirty birdie,\" he'd tease.  \n  \nAnd our conversations would go on like that. Fun, good natured back and  \nforths like that, but somehow we would always go back to the day that  \nthey pulled Flint's body from the river and sadness would taint the air  \nbetween us. In these moments, the weight of the loss we shared would  \nbegin to slowly crush me, but I knew that when things got too heavy for  \nme to carry, I could always find comfort in his soft, yellow eyes. Those  \neyes that held me close and told me that everything would be okay. Those  \neyes that prevented me from seeing the monster that hid beneath...  \n  \n...  \n  \n...  \n  \n...  \n  \nExcuse me.  \n  \nHumphrey's P.O.V.  \n  \nAsk me how I did it and I'll say that your guess is as good as mine. By  \nall accounts, I should be dead after what happened to me in A-School,  \nbut somehow I survived and life went on. I won't say anything about what  \nhappened to my mate. That's her story to tell if she even wishes to tell  \nit, but what I will say is that once those truths were brought to light,  \na noticeable tension began to form between us. I couldn't even begin to  \ntell you why. It's not like a blamed her for what happened to her or  \nwhat she did as a result. She didn't ask for it to happen to her, and  \nthe guy had it coming, but for some reason, seeing the darker side of my  \nmate's past made me deeply uncomfortable. If I had to take a guess, I'd  \nsay it's because in that moment, I realized just how little I actually  \nknew her.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;I grew up with her, I pined for her, I married her, and we shared some  \nof our most intimate secrets with each other. I thought I knew  \neverything there was to know about her, but that clearly wasn't the  \ncase. Though I guess I couldn't hold it against her. There are worlds  \ninside of me that she has still never seen, and that she never will see.  \nHonestly, that makes me wonder just how well she actually knew me. I  \nguess it's true what they say: \"You never truly know a person, only what  \nthey show you\", and honestly, I didn't want to know. Now that those  \nskeletons had been dug up, I shared in her pain. Ordinarily that would  \nbe a good thing, but with how she handled trauma, I felt so helpless. I  \nknew that deep down she was suffering, and there was nothing I could do.  \nShe insisted on carrying it alone, so all I could do was sit and watch.  \n  \nI used to wonder if I should just break down and tell her the secrets  \nthat brought me to her doorstep that fateful night, but once I saw her  \nugly side, I realized just how lucky she was that she never had to see  \nmine. She didn't have to endure the disenchantment and the mounting  \nfrustrations that I did. In her mind, she knew me and it was honestly  \nbest for both of us to keep it that way.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;Kate's P.O.V.  \n  \nI'm sorry about earlier. I guess that wound hasn't healed quite as much  \nas I thought it had...  \n  \n...  \n  \n...  \n  \nAnyway, as I was saying earlier: Danny was my best friend. I loved him,  \nbut I pretty quickly discovered that what I thought was a beautiful,  \npoignant friendship was nothing more than an insidious scheme. First of  \nall, Danny wasn't gay. He deliberately planted that rumor amongst the  \nstudents so they would target him and he allowed himself to be  \nbrutalized by the other pups. He assumed a life of misery so he could  \nget close to me and pose as my friend. He used Flint's suicide as a tool  \nto make me vulnerable around him, and then, as if all of that wasn't  \nenough, he raped me. Now, you might be asking yourself: \"If he just  \nwanted to rape you, why would he go through so much trouble?\"  \n  \nWell, I'll tell you. It's because he was as smart as he was sick. You  \nsee, Daniel was the type of guy who got his kicks from playing with  \npeople's heads. He was handsome, charming, eloquently spoken, and he  \nalways knew exactly how to get everything he wanted without consequence.  \nPersonally, I admired that part of his personality and enjoyed watching  \nhim spin various, tense situations to his favor. It allowed him to live  \na life free of doubt, and I wished I could have what he had, but now  \nthat I look back at it, I realize that he had me under his spell long  \nbefore Flint threw himself from the bluff. He made me believe that he  \nwas my friend, that our bond was unlike any other, but in reality, he  \nhad spent the entirety of A-School manipulating me into becoming  \nemotionally dependent upon him. He wanted me as his property and with  \neach interaction, I had unknowingly given small pieces of myself to him  \nuntil I was chained to him. Every day, I was at his mercy and I didn't  \neven realize it, but he made every single intention known the day that  \nhe pinned me to the floor and took my innocence.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;And what's worse? He had established enough of a reputation among the  \nstudents and instructors alike that if I tried to report him, nobody  \nwould believe me. He literally rendered me powerless in every aspect of  \nmy life, and he knew that he did, too. The next day, he acted as though  \nnothing ever happened, and once again under the spell of his silver  \ntongue, I believed that I had to do the same. Honestly, looking back at  \nit now, I can't believe that I was once so stupid, and, even though I  \ndidn't ask for any of it to happen, I feel like Humphrey secretly  \nresented me for it.  \n  \nMaybe I was reading too much into it all, but after he discovered  \neverything that had happened to me and saw what I did, he started  \nacting... weird. Even though the lead I got up north was not quite as  \nhelpful as I'd hoped, we did start to make headway in the Elias  \ninvestigation, but Humphrey suddenly refused to talk about it. If I'm  \nhonest, he barely spoke to me at all after it all happened and his  \nentire demeanor began to change. He became aloof, quiet, angry even.  \nSometimes we would go days without speaking to one another, or even  \nreally spending time together. Since he failed A-School, he was in a bit  \nof a temporary limbo while my dad tried to sort out what to do. He no  \nlonger performed any of the alpha duties he'd previously been assigned,  \nand he no longer was my shadow. Then, with no more responsibilities to  \nkeep him busy, he began to revert back to his previous lifestyle.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;I went to work before he woke up in the morning, and he would stay out  \nall night drinking and doing whatever else with his friends, so by the  \ntime he got home, I was already asleep. Or if on the rare occasion he  \nstayed out late enough to catch me on my way out in the morning, he  \nwould be far too drunk or delirious to have any meaningful conversation.  \n  \nI truly didn't know what to make of it. If it ever actually was me, he  \nnever told me, and if it was what happened while he was under, he never  \neven mentioned it. Maybe it was a mixture of both, but come on...  \n  \nI mean, even though I didn't ever see any of it, if Humphrey had to  \nrelive his worst days while he was under like I did, then I'm sure he  \nhad a laundry list of shit to deal with. So, in that sense, I could  \nunderstand wanting to numb himself, but in the process of numbing  \nhimself, he phased me out. One day, I'll admit, I got fed up with it all  \nand that was when we had our second big fight.  \n  \nHumphrey's P.O.V.  \n  \nLooking back at it now, I can't believe how stupid we both were after  \nwhat happened in Pointe West. We both had to relive some serious  \ntraumas, and rather than work through them and heal together, we  \nsuffered apart. Kate buried herself in her work, and I burned the park  \ndown every night with my friends. Kate and I barely saw each other  \nduring those couple weeks after we returned, and if we did, I can't  \nreally remember. That time in my life is a bit of a blur, but I do  \nremember the fight we had like it was yesterday.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;Kate took two days of leave specifically to spend time with me, but for  \nwhatever reason, I didn't want to spend time with her and, as I'm sure  \nyou can imagine, she went absolutely ballistic. I mean, I can't say that  \nI blamed her, of course. I was completely in the wrong, but at that  \ntime, my head was so clouded by everything that I was trying to deal  \nwith that I couldn't see or care about anybody's needs but my own.  \nCompletely blinded by rage, we argued and screamed at each other, called  \neach other names, even declared that we hated one another.  \n  \nAnd then things got violent...  \n  \nKate's P.O.V.  \n  \nI can't remember what Humphrey said that made me do it, but I remember  \nthat at some point, I became so angry that I completely lost my head,  \nand that's when I hit him. My paw landed squarely upon the side of his  \nface and knocked him off balance, but before I could even process what  \nhad just happened, he squared up and struck me back. That's when things  \nreally got ugly. I leapt upon him and we rolled around on the ground:  \nsnarling, snapping, slashing, tearing. Personally, once we were on the  \nground, I thought for sure I could have him, but in the blinks between  \nour youth and that moment, I had forgotten how strong he was. I fought  \nvaliantly to gain the upper hand as we so viciously snapped at each  \nother, but it wasn't long before he overpowered me and pinned me down by  \nthe shoulders.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;And after that, I don't know what the hell happened. One moment, he  \ntowered over me and glared down at me with gnashed fangs and I returned  \nthat hate-filled look in kind, but then in the next, we were lost in the  \nthroes of passionate, angry sex. Our lips met in a heated, violent kiss,  \nand as we rolled together on the floor, our lust only continued to build  \nuntil we were both ablaze with raw, primal instinct. Like, I'm sorry to  \nbe so crass, but when he climbed on my back that night, he fucked me  \nlike he hated me, and I was in heaven. He took charge, pinned me to the  \nfloor, and mercilessly dominated me from behind. Like, I'm talking paws  \nbetween my shoulders, biting my scruff and pounding me into the ground.  \n  \nIt awakened something in me, and it was then that I realized that this  \nwas what I'd wanted from him all along. Sure, we had a few good moments  \nbetween our honeymoon and then, but as I said before: Most of the time  \nwe fucked, it would inevitably leave me disappointed and I never quite  \nunderstood why. He did everything right- at least as right as he knew  \nhow to do, but for whatever reason, it just wasn't ever enough to  \nsatisfy me and it frustrated the hell out of me. That night, however, he  \ncould do no wrong, and by the time it was all said and done, we were  \nboth so satisfied and exhausted that we could barely move. So we simply  \nlied there on the floor, tail to tail with one another and breathed  \nheavily as we swam in the high that flooded our bodies.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;Humphrey's P.O.V.  \n  \nI can't even begin to describe the way I felt as I lied on the floor and  \nstruggled to catch my breath. What we had just done was so ardent, so...  \nangry, and it awakened something inside of me that I had never felt  \nbefore. As I forced my mate's chest into the ground and rendered her  \nhelpless against my desires, it all felt so wrong, but at the same time,  \nso right. I never thought I could bring myself to treat her like she was  \nmy property, but in the heat of the moment, as she begged me to thrust  \nmyself into her deeper, faster, to bite down on her neck until she bled,  \nI felt so... powerful. There was something about the idea of setting my  \npaws upon an alpha and making her nothing more than an object for my  \npleasure that really turned me on, and as I stared down at her from my  \nposition of dominance upon her hips, as I forced her chest into the  \nground so I could take her as quickly and as deeply as I wanted, I  \ncouldn't help but feel like that was how it was meant to be.  \n  \nThat kind of thought process obviously went against everything I had  \nbeen taught, but my mate liked it that way, and I got such a power high  \nfrom it that I never stopped to think about the damage I was doing to  \nher. I never considered just how toxic and deranged it was, given what  \nhappened to her when she was young, or how those traumatic events may  \nhave contributed to her insatiable desire to be defiled, abused and  \nsubjugated by someone stronger than her. All I knew was it felt good,  \nand we finally connected sexually, the way I always hoped we would in my  \nmany failed attempts to get her body in tune with mine, so I wasn't  \nabout to stop. If extreme intercourse was what she wanted, then extreme  \nintercourse was what she got.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;All it took was for us to continue to destroy our marriage one stupid  \nmistake and one petty fight at a time, because the angrier we were, the  \nmore we despised each other, the better it was for us. Of course we  \nstill loved each other, but we had lost ourselves so deeply in that  \npernicious game of anger and spite that we lost sight of why we were  \ntruly together. That all changed, however, when we received some rather  \nshocking news.  \n  \n  \n  \n\n","series":{"name":"The End","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/2073843-the-end-chapter-20-murder-myths-and-meilo.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/2085032-the-end-chapter-22-growing-pains.json"}}