A Big Shiny Blue Marble Ch. 53

She considered her position and fought off the urge to cry. The others back at the quarry were no less greedy than she'd always been. She remembered that Callie had said that her life wasn't worth much more than a bullet. Nancy knew that even if there still were a few of the quarry guards nearby, she couldn't expect any help from them. Even if she could get free somehow and make her way to them, she was pretty certain that they'd been offered a monetary reason to bring her back as a corpse to collect what had been offered.

She sobbed a little. Ewan had been right about her. She wasn't one bit better than the prisoners in her quarry.

And her life was probably worth less than a bullet.

Nancy heard a few soft sounds and when she looked up, her heart felt as though it was banging against the bottom of her esophagus. There were three of the werewolves standing by the side of the wagon and they weren't trying to hide as human men at all. She was looking at large and powerful creatures from out of somebody's nightmare for damn sure. They towered over her, leering down and one of them was reaching for her.

Nancy wanted to scream, but no sound came. She was sure that if she hadn't just emptied her bladder, she'd be sitting in a puddle of her own urine now. In fact, she was a little sure that urine wouldn't be the problem in about another minute.

But two of them yelped then and the third backed away a step, though he fell over backwards and disappeared from her sight a half a second later. The two others now stood on their toes as Roland pulled on their long ears. They couldn't move their heads, but she saw that they were listening to the soft sounds that Roland was making as he hissed some words at them through his teeth.

"Aw c'mon, Wheezer," one of them said, "We weren't gonna hurt her. Sam just said to scare her a little, that's all."

The one who had spoken whined in pain quietly and found himself looking sideways into Roland's yellow eyes for a few moments. Roland still looked like a man to Nancy, just barely, as he hissed something else which Nancy couldn't make out before he released them and the three were gone a second later. Roland turned away for a moment and bent down to a flat rock where he'd set a platter of food and a tin cup.

"I'm sorry," she heard him whisper quietly, "Some people here don't like you much, I guess."

Nancy nodded, "I guess they've got their reasons. Thank you, Roland. I really mean that."

"It's ok," he shrugged, "Nobody's gonna hurt you. Or they'd better not, anyway," he smirked just a little, "I'm the one who pays them every week. I brought you something to eat and drink. Can you manage tied up like that, or should I try to feed you?"

"I think I can manage," she tried to smile, "Have you eaten?"

"I stuffed a sandwich in my mouth over there," he whispered, "That red-haired girl who owns the big machine made it for me. They say she makes the best sandwiches anywhere. By the one that I had, I think they're right. Here. Please eat."

"Can you stay here?" Nancy asked and Roland nodded, "Sure."

As she ate, Nancy tried to get a better look at Roland without being too obvious about it. He looked so serious under that Stetson that he wore. His long brown hair appeared to be clean and it spilled down over his shoulders. His eyes were part of the cause for his stern look, but she could see that it wasn't anything that he meant. It was just how he was. Like this, he appeared human and to her, he was even quite attractive with that long, down-turned mustache, in spite of the usually silent and dour persona that she saw around him. The rest looked quite scruffy by comparison, but Roland looked as though he shaved about every day. Nancy had no explanation for it, but though she usually disliked mustaches, she found herself admiring the full and longish one drooping from his upper lip.

"Tell me," she said, "Those other guys were - I dunno – being themselves, I guess. I mean, they were ... um, -"

"Natural," Roland hissed softly, "We usually never show what we look like to outsiders – especially on the job. But D'Arcy said it was ok tonight, so they just took off their clothes and changed."

Nancy gaped," Took off their, ..."

Roland smirked again, "Yes. We have to, or we'd wreck the clothes. They're made to fit human men, right? No way they'd fit one of us if we're natural. It's just a waste of money to change without getting undressed first."

"Why didn't you do that too?" she asked, "Or is that too personal?"

He shrugged, "You looked like you were about to crap yourself as it was."

"I was, "she chuckled a little, surprised that she was able to, "It was a hell of a shock, and they didn't look friendly."

"Am I looking friendly?" he asked.

It put Nancy off her stride for a moment and she looked at him, "Well, you don't look like you hate me, so I guess I'm thankful for that."

He shook his head, "I don't hate you. They don't either, most of them. I'd say that Ewan holds a dislike for you – and from what I hear, he's got a reason. Sam hates you, because she's pretty taken with Ewan, though I've told her to smarten up. D'Arcy and Shane don't hate you, though to them, you're a bit of a bothersome detail, and the new people with the big machine likely don't give shit either way."

"What are they, anyway?" she asked, "Do you know?"

Roland began to chuckle and on him it sounded odd, a wheezing laugh which was mostly silent, "Lady, if you have a problem with what we are, you're in for a shock. Nobody knows what the black-haired girl is, but we all figure that she's just some real bad ju-ju in a beautiful package. The one with the reddish hair is a little less of whatever that is, but she can change her body like we can. Only then she looks like I don't know what, though she's still really pretty like that.

The guy though," Roland said, "He's the one who'll make you fill your pants. He's a demon, though from what I heard from D'Arcy, he's not like the ones who fly around and fuck everything up – though he can fly. I've seen his wings myself."

He looked over, "Finished already? You must have been hungry. Do you want me to get you more? I don't mind."

Nancy shook her head, "No, thank you. I'm really thankful to you, Roland. Nobody gives much of a damn about me and I guess I can say that I deserve it, but it is good to have someone's kindness, at least. Thank you very much."

Roland said nothing, but he nodded and took the plate and her cup, "I'll be back in a minute," he said, "I just want to clean these off and put them back in my pack."

She nodded and watched him walk away; suddenly realizing that he'd fed her with his own things. She guessed that it shouldn't have been a big jump to think about it, but it did come as a surprise to her somehow.

She saw Shane walking with Callie and called to them. Callie looked as though she still wanted to shoot her, but at least she was holding her tongue, so Nancy forced her own courage a little.

"May I ask something, Shane, or would it be wrong to even speak to you?"

He shrugged, "Ask."

"Please, if it's not being too nosy, what happened to Roland's voice? Why can't he speak louder?"

Shane's eyebrows knit together for an instant and Nancy thought that he'd refuse to tell her, but then he spoke quietly, "His vocal chords were cut when he was a kid. He got separated from his mother when he was little and he was caught by humans who didn't know better, I guess. They thought that he was a dog or something. They must have been either idiots or they were blind. Anyway, they kept him for a few years until he got too big. He was always kept with their small daughter to protect her or something like that because he'd never hurt her and was very protective of her.

But he used to cry for his mother at night and the woman and the man slit his vocal chords so he'd be quiet." He shook his head, "Roland could have killed them even then, but he held still and took it because he loved the little girl."

Shane looked disgusted then as he remembered more, "I don't know why, and I think that he's forgotten the reason, but they whipped him and he ran off sometime after that. My guess is that the man must have finally figured out that their 'dog' hadn't stopped growing after a few years like a real dog or a wolf cub would have by then. Or maybe somebody told him that he was an idiot and said exactly what that thing was in their home with their daughter, so he whipped Roland to drive him off. I guess it must show something about him, but even at that age, Roland could have ripped that fool apart for it.

But he didn't. He just ran away and then started walking when he was far enough away, he told me.

Is that what you wanted to know? Don't tell him that I told you, ok? I hate it whenever he gets mad at me and kicks my ass all over. He's worse than D'Arcy, for Chrissake."

She nodded and they walked away. Nancy slumped down to sit on the floor of the wagon in shock.

Roland was back a minute after that, "Here," he said, "It's getting cold and you don't have a coat. I brought you these." He held out a stack of blankets and set them down. "Try not to lose your mind now. I'll have to climb in and lay them out for you. Then I'm going to move you a little so that you can lie down. I figure there are enough here so that you can use one for a pillow. I think it might snow tonight. If it does, don't worry. I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here with you."

While he was whispering, Nancy realized that it had grown a lot colder, since she was already shivering and it annoyed her a little to see that he was right. She wondered why for a moment, before she remembered what he'd said and looked up, "You'll be right here? What do you mean?"

He looked surprised for a moment, "Nancy, touch the floor of the wagon for a second."

She did and noticed that the wood felt cold and damp as she looked up at him.

"It's not gonna get any warmer for you by itself and you'll likely be sick by morning – even with the blankets. You've got nothing to cover your body like a roof. So I hope you don't mind too much, but I'm going to be sleeping with you. I won't do anything to you but keep you warm."

When he saw her doubtful expression, he reached out and grabbed her bound hands gently before he brought them to his chest and held them there. At that moment, she was startled to learn two things; his chest was very, very warm and he was now naked.

She gaped as she stared at his lupine face and wondered how it was that she hadn't noticed it before during the conversation. Then she realized that she wasn't at all afraid of him like this and wondered about that. From his expression, she could see that he'd almost read her mind.

"You looked into my eyes just a bit too long," he smiled a little, "Didn't anybody ever tell you not to look into a werewolf's eyes? Jesus, Nancy, you're lucky I don't do all kinds of things to you now. You fall under really easily, you know. Anyway, I'm being honest. I won't hurt you or take advantage of you. Just relax and use me to stay warm, ok?"

As she sat on her knees quite helpless, he climbed in easily and lifted her just as she was with no apparent effort to move her out of the way. Nancy was struck dumb with wonder as she watched his body move while he spread out a blanket and then laid another three down so that they could obviously be used to cover her. Finally, she watched him pick up a fourth blanket and fold it further, rather than spread it out. "This one's for your pillow," he said almost silently.

He picked her up again then and he tied one rope to her ankle. It was loose enough to allow her some comfort and movement, but as she watched him knot it, she knew that there was no give in it so that it couldn't be stretched at all. She'd never get her foot through it to escape. Oddly enough, she wasn't bothered by it a bit as she sat on his leg while he untied all of the others.

"Please lie down here," he whispered softly, "and you'll be warm in no time."

She stared at him, but she did as he asked and true to his word, he lay down next to her very carefully and covered them both. Nancy found herself looking into his eyes again from very close up and fought with herself over something that she wanted to say. The trouble was that it was very difficult to get out.

"You should roll over, facing away from me," he said and he looked a little uncomfortable when he reached out and pulled her to him so that her back was against him. She was about as enveloped by his body as it was possible to be there in the bed of the wagon and she found herself feeling the warmth and heat of his massive body in seconds.

It felt good to her; so very good and far beyond being more comfortable than she'd been in a long time. She thought about that and wondered how long it had been since she'd felt this good lying down to go to sleep and realized that the answer was probably never or too long to remember. She felt his chin over her head and pressed her head back a little, seeking more of his comfort without really thinking about it and he asked her if there was something wrong. She answered no and they were still for a few minutes.

Something came to her as a distant feeling and she reached up behind her and touched his head without meaning to, really. It was just something that felt right to her and she had no way to explain it to herself. She just hoped that he wouldn't mind.

His reaction was to sigh slowly and then she felt him move in little tiny movements. Before long, she knew what they were.

He was sniffing her as covertly as he could, smelling her hair and drawing in her scent. She kept touching his head, drawing her hand over his long ear and sliding her palm along his snout. It caused him to move his head forward a little, as though he was just as helpless as she was in some ways, but Nancy didn't mind at all now. She was warm and very comfortable, lying on her side in a wagon in the middle of nowhere curled up with someone large who obviously didn't hate her. In her present position in the world, it felt like a small but very important victory.

"Roland? Can I ask you something?" she whispered and she felt him nod once ever so slightly.

"Where did you get that name?" she asked, "I don't know much about werewolves, but I'd have thought that their mothers give them some other kinds of names. Maybe it just shows my ignorance, I don't know."

"It's my last name," he whispered, still sniffing her neck and hair, "I forgot the name my mother gave me, since I never heard it after we got separated, I guess. I lost my mother when I was very young. I can't even remember her anymore."

His head was now a little over her neck and Nancy felt a little thrill at that. It made feeling good even better and she was a little sure that none of the other werewolves would ever do such a thing or make any sort of gesture like this. There was something coming up in her from somewhere and she noticed something in his voice – as though he was having a little trouble speaking at all now. She didn't understand that and wanted to ask if he was alright, but then she smelled his scent just as he spoke again.

His voice was just a whisper in the darkness to her, the same as it was at any other time until now, but it sounded just a little tortured and raw to her.

"I knew it was you," he hissed so softly, "I remember your smell. Roland is one of the names that you gave me. You said that it was my last name, since I was a part of your family."

Nancy Lynne Roland's day had been just about pure shit up to the point where he'd taken over her care and custody. In the past few minutes, she'd been getting more and more little cues and signals which now gathered and ran through her mind in the most disturbing and insistent way, refusing now to be ignored or squashed down any longer. Her eyes opened wide as she listened, her upset and misery now threatening to burst the dam of cool resolve that she hid behind as she lived her lonely life – a life which she hated, but was helpless in because she didn't know how to change or remake it.

There was a moment's silence, and then he spoke again – a quiet thought, but it came out as though his heart was coming out along with it just as she felt his tear on her neck.

"You used to call me –"

She suddenly fought to get free and before even Roland's reflexes could react, she spun in his grip to face him, looking at him – searching his features in the darkness - seeing his normally hard yellow eyes awash while her own eyes filled faster than she'd have ever believed possible as she gasped.

"Buttons?"

He nodded and then her dam was sundered. Nancy threw her arms around his thick and powerful neck and she buried her face in the fur over his throat and sobbed hard enough to hurt her ribs. She couldn't even begin to get a handle on resuming control – she'd just lost the last of her self-management. Nancy felt his quiet sobs, but she heard only little sounds from him, since he couldn't make any louder sounds than that. But she was making up for it. Her own crying was enough for them both for many minutes.

D'Arcy appeared beside the wagon asking what was wrong and if Roland could do anything to keep Nancy a little quiet. Roland looked up and shook his head, his tears running like rivulets. "Nancy is the girl that I used to watch over when I was young," he said haltingly and D'Arcy decided that on Roland, that wasn't a flattering look.

"Holy shit," he whispered as he walked away to where Rudhi stood, looking over questioningly.

Randi and Billy walked past then and looked at the two of them walking for a moment, "Hey, if you want a place to talk without all the walking," she said to Rudhi, "We've pitched the tent behind the tank. Might not be the quietest place, but it'll be warm."

Rudhi nodded and thanked them, taking D'Arcy's hand to lead him back to the other end of the clearing.

"Uh, how do I get in?" he asked, looking at the strange rumbling machine for a moment, since he could see no easy way to enter the tent.

"I think it will be the same as with any other female that you have known," Rudhi chuckled.

He turned to look at her and saw her little smile then, "It takes me a little longer," she said, "but slowly I am learning to make jokes with you."

-------------------------

Roland just hung on to Nancy and cried silently.

"They told me you ran away," she bawled when she could get a breath to work her way for a moment, "I cried for months."

"They ran me off," Roland hissed with a quiet cough, "Your father threw rocks at me until I left."

Nancy looked at him in the darkness lit only by the soft flicker of a little firelight from the campfire some yards away. Now that there was no doubt, she could see him as he was back then, the young and confused male canid who never wanted to be very far away from the little girl whom he protected. She remembered how it was strange to find out that her 'dog' was the only one that she'd ever seen who could talk, though he begged her never to tell anyone his secret – the secret which she'd never been able to understand, being only a little girl.

She remembered how he'd stand up in a way that other dogs just couldn't and how he'd pick her up to help her out of her bed long after her parents were asleep. They'd sit together quietly on the floor and he'd reluctantly show her his other secret – how if she wheedled and begged him enough, he'd turn into a boy several years older than her and they'd curl up together on the floor to sleep together.

It was how they'd often been found by her mother in the morning; a tiny little girl asleep against her huge dog on the floor. It was how she still remembered him – a massive creature who she'd loved to sleep on or against.