To Love a Stray Ch. 05

"Get a couple of heating pads, her body temperature is down." Doc orders as he shines a light in my eyes. I realise gaps are missing from my awareness and struggle to sit up.

"No, lay down Rosy your not well," Doc tells me.

"Alex," I manage as I struggle even though I have no strength.

"He's gone. A blood clot dislodged from one of his injuries, it went to his brain. It was fast and painless. One moment he was talking about how you'd been sleeping on his bed, next he was gone." Doc says gently. I close my eyes tight as tears well in my eyes and start to trickle down my cheeks causing me to shake my head and try to roll away from him.

"Rosy, I want to give you something very gentle to help you sleep." Doc tells me.

"Alex's funeral have I missed it?" I ask softly.

"No, it's tomorrow. If you rest between now and then and you should be able to go to it," Doc says gently.

"Alex wasn't supposed to die, warriors kill strays, not the other way around ..." I sob until a hazy darkness starts to descend. I gasp and open my eyes wide in fear but my body is too weak and everything goes dark.

I wake to the soft early morning light but lay motionless, I can smell the scents of both Micah and Steven surrounding me and I vaguely remember them being with me during the night but I long for the solitariness of the forest. I don't know how long I remain laying there I only know that the sun has changed position to higher in the sky when I sense people come into the room.

"Good you're awake," Doc's voice is soft as is his touch as he checks my pulse and blood pressure.

"How is she?" I recognise Micah's voice and feel fear well up inside me.

"The funeral?" I ask and am surprised at how weak my voice is.

"That's why I'm here, to see if you're well enough to go." Doc tells me. I feel fear, anger and desperation swell inside me and I begin to tremble, Doc is going to declare I'm not well enough to go and inject me with some drug so I miss the funeral. They're going to keep me here against my will, I'm sure of it.

"Stop sniffing me!" I cry in a panic when I hear the slight noise from Micah.

"I'm not, well not intentionally," he tries to sooth me softly.

"With a nice warm coat on you can go to the funeral," Doc sounds very serious as he tells me this.

"You're not stopping me from going! I won't let you! You're not stopping me!" I cry frantically. Fear and an incredible sense of loss twine making tears stream down my face as I struggle into a sitting position and look frantically for my clothes, a small part of my mind registers the fact I have clothes on but still I search desperately.

"Here are your shoes and a warm rug to wrap yourself in," Micah sounds sad and I scream in fear and snatch at my shoes.

"I'm going! Stop stealing my stuff!" I cry even as a part of me recognises they are trying to help me another part only sees them trying to prevent me going. They are going to lock me in the cage like the strays did ... I scream as I clutch my shoes to my chest. My arm hurts and I look down at it surprised. When did I hurt my wrist?

Somehow I manage to pull my sneakers on, crying out as pain shafts viciously up my arm as I use it despite the injury. I hear a choking noise and wonder why Doc or Micah is crying when it's me who's hurting. I am too terrified to struggle when Micah wraps me in the blanket and lifts me in his arms while I whimper and look around for an escape route as I am carried outside. I see the large hole in the ground and realise it is a grave, and it comes back to me. Alex is dead.

I move away from the others to stand alone by the grave as a short service is read and I shiver as the coffin begins to sink slowly into the ground. Pain clutches at me and I struggle to take a deep breath as sense of impending doom washes over me and I begin crying again. I hug myself as the pain of loosing my Alex washes over me again and I know it is tearing me apart as I smell the warm coppery scent of my own blood. Everything wavers a moment and I blink uncertainly, I look down and I can see Alex's blood pooling slowly at my feet.

"Doc! Rosy!" I hear Mitchell's terrified cry and wonder why I am on my knees. I don't want to be here, don't want the soft sounds of concern or the hands that touch me. I just want to be alone.

* * * * *

I turn my head towards the light from the window before I open my eyes, even though the day is warm and sunny outside I don't attempt to stir from the lounge where I have been carried. It is four days since the team returned and three days since Alex died. Yesterday when Alex had been buried I had collapsed and later when I had come around Doc had told me I had lost the babies I carried.

"Want to come outside for a while?" Mitchell asks. He has been my constant companion since Alex died only leaving my side at night or when Micah became angry and sent him away. I shake my head slightly not wanting to have to interact with anyone, even Mitchell.

"Rosy?" Mitchell urges after several more minutes but I fail to respond and he walks away. Time seems to run together and suddenly noise fills the room as the warriors return for lunch.

"So do you feel like eating at the table or do you want to eat in there?" Micah asks as he leans over the back of the lounge. I don't react to his presence, it seems having to sleep in his bed in his room has made his scent familiar to me but I still feel uncomfortable around him. I smell Steven as he stops beside Micah and most likely looks down at me. I don't want them there, don't want them talking to me or touching me. I know they will, toms always want to touch me and then the bad stuff starts. Where they hurt me until I scream and beg them to stop. Toms always end up hurting me like that, stray or clan it makes no difference. Fear starts building along with fury at my own helplessness.

"Hey Rosy, we saw a few deer today. Want to come hunting tomorrow?" Steven asks. I roll over so I am facing the back of the lounge and pull the blanket up to cover all but the very top of my head to cut out the intruding sounds, I wait expecting to be forcibly removed from the lounge but surprisingly I am left alone. After a while the TV is turned on and I hear the sounds of the toms settling down around the room, the lounge moves slightly as someone settles against the front of it and I once again smell Micah.

The very presence of so many in the room grates on my nerves and I long to be able to run on all four by myself. Yes, I think, I need to shift and hunt tomorrow to build up my strength so I can escape.

I push the blanket down and roll onto my back as I realise I am missing out on a meal now, a meal that would help to build my strength. I sit up and use both hands to push my hair back off my face. My injured wrist is healing nicely thanks to shifting twice already today.

"Hungry?" Micah asks from the floor where he sits with his back to the lounge.

"No but I must shift so I must eat," I mutter. I don't talk to anyone unless I have to and they all know I am here under protest, I just hope they don't guess at what I am planning.

"Want some?" Micah asks offering me his plate but I shake my head as I swing my feet to the floor. There is no way I am touching his kill and be attacked for it.

"I'll get my own," I say in a clipped tone and head for the kitchen. I dish up generous amounts of cold roast along with heaps of salad makings and sit down at the table to dig in hungrily. I am happily eating when the toms start drifting into the kitchen with their empty plates and dirty cutlery, I am terrified by their proximity to my food and I still guard my food so they can't take it. I need to build up my strength and all they want to do is steal my food.

"Whose turn to wash up the cutlery?" Edwin asks.

"Make Timny do it he's entirely too cocky today," Chris comments.

"Hey it's not my fault that the little redhead at the service station has taken a liking to me!" Timny says happily. I listen to the banter flowing back and forth but I don't contribute to it or react when they try to draw me in. When I am finished eating I get to my feet and dispose of my plate and fork before returning to the lounge room to sit in one of the chairs away from the rest of them as I start planning how I will escape. Fear is my constant companion and it is all I can do not to hiss or growl when they come into the room, even their scents send fear spiralling through me as I pull my legs up onto the seat and away from where they might be able to grab them easily if they decided to attack.