#whether it talks or growls doesn't really matter because it's literally not fucking real!!!

[coockie8]

Anyone else like genuinely hate the Harkness test?

It's an imaginary monster that literally does not exist in real life. Who cares if it can communicate as a human would? It's not real! You can't actually fuck it anyway!!

[mama-ghostie-61542]

A Thousand Lifetimes

Rated M++ for language and themes

If you recognize it, IT AIN'T MINE.

Sorry for the OOC-ness

Chapter 4

Wolf--

"If I hear the word 'Mom' anytime in the next five minutes, you are, all three, gonna lose grandparent privilege's! Enough with the fighting. 'Kala, you need to get over there and do your homework."

"But, Mom," my younger son shouted. "I can't do it alone."

"Yes, you can, dear. All you have to do is write the words in the blanks."

Mornings here were always crazy. This year, they got worse, with all three kids home all day and me working three jobs from home, while taking a few classes to keep up my certification. But what would do my head in were the constant conflicts of scheduling the boys services around project deadlines. Especially when my childless brother was my boss...One of them.

A text came through ~'Hey, Bry, do you have those reports ready? I have to submit them to the bank this afternoon.'

Loveland Demolition was well known in the Midwest, and had been doing well before the pandemic, but now, we were expanding again. I dug around in my ever expanding pile of outgoing paperwork for the fax copy of the expense reports my brother wanted. Why everything with this end of the family business went through me, I would never know. Maybe it was because he had named me our VP of NE Operations. Like I didn't have a decent job already. I mean, I didn't get my Doctorate for it to look pretty on my wall.

Speaking of, I have a class in 15 minutes. Botany of Common Herbs.

I sent off a quick message, ~ I faxed them yesterday. Did you not get them before the boys did?~

My brothers pit bulls were notorious for grabbing the pages as they fell out of the fax machine and shredding them.

A few minutes later, he replied, ~Dammit, Pita! The Pain got 'em. Already in transit?~

~Yep. UPS grabbed it yesterday. Email?~

~Ok. No. Need hard copy. Will reschedule with the bank. Do good in class today!~

About that time I got a plastic cup thrown in my general direction with my oldest son yelling, "More water! Please, Mommy."

Thankfully, my Botany Professor understands me being a little late, as she has a Downie of her own.

I get his water, and as I am standing at the sink for a few seconds extra to breathe, I feel a cold spot on one hip and the pressure of a thumb on my cheek.

'You are amazing, my Queen. You've got this.'

I smile as the feeling, and the ghost of his smiling eyes fades. How does he always know when the stress is getting to me and just what to say; just what to do. It's like I don't have to say a word, he just knows.

Great....Now I am gonna be all giggly the rest of the day. Probably gonna get an email from my Professor, too; nosy old bat.

Kihyun PoV

It was almost 22:00 when I felt the wobble in thin silver thread that connected us. As I reached for it, I felt her stress and frustration start to bleed through and somehow, instinctively knew what to do. It bothers me when she gets this stressed, because she forgets to take care of herself. And then the tension lodges in her back, manifesting as a knot just to the left of her spine.

Settling myself into my meditation, I could almost see her standing at the sink, working on something. Always working, this girl; whether it's on her actual job, her side hustle, an Etsy store where she sells knit caps, or the boys' homework. She ALWAYS has something going on. Her brothers hare-brained decision to expand the family business does not help in the slightest.

As I settle in, I can hear the din of the kids yelling, a timer going off on something, and from some where, another louder ding. She is amazing, how she can just take it all in stride. Some how, I know, she just needs a second to breathe, so I imagine my hand on her hip; stopping her right where she stands.

I visualize my hand cupping her cheek, and whispering to her, 'You are amazing, my Queen. You've got this.' I can't help the smile that spreads across my face as I see her smile. That soft, sweet smile, that just borders on the verge of blushing. I send how I feel seeing her smile down that thread and, some how, just know that she will be smiling all day now.

Awakening from my meditation, I glance at the clock. Hmm. Time for bed. But first, I am curious about the next chapter. How in the hell, with everything else she has on her plate, did she find the time to write this.

I set back on my bed, my pillows piled up behind me, and start reading.

Still Joey

I couldn't sleep so I got up at sunrise and made coffee. Sis woke up a little while later. I heard her alarm go off and then, I heard her sniffle a little. As she stumbled to the kitchen for her morning coffee, her whole bearing was like all the wind had been sucked out of her.

My heart went out to her.

"Sis. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Joey. Just my own brain. Think I am going crazy. That's all."

I'm right there with you.

"Explain," I said.

Rather than use actual words, she put on 'Comatose' by Too Close To Touch. "This says it better than I ever could."

I set aside the story and brought up the song. As I sat there listening, I could almost feel how hurt she was. How she thought she was going crazy. I wanted, so much, to fly to her, where ever she was.

"Sissie," I sighed, "What is the matter?"

"I think I am losing my mind, Joey. I just don't want to remember, if remembering is always going to hurt. I'm afraid that it will cost me the one of the two things I am most afraid to lose; my kids or my mind."

"You aren't going crazy, Sis. Who told you that you were crazy for feeling like that?"

"Mom. According to her, I am. Apparently, it is all just a construct of my own mind. Can't be real because it's all in my head, but it is all that I could ever dream of. It makes me want to sleep until it is real. I want to forget the way his voice sounds, cause it hurts too much to hear it when I am alone. I want to forget the color of his eyes, but I see it everyday in my coffee. I want to forget it all, so it doesn't hurt anymore. There is no way he can be real. No way his smell can be real. The more I remembered, I guess, the more I want to forget."

"Bryn, tell me about him?"

"What does it matter? He is no more than a fantasy my own mind created," she said as she dug in a cabinet and added a more than generous amount of Jack Daniels to her coffee.

"Bry! Really??"

"What," she groused as she sipped on her coffee flavored whiskey.

"It is barely sun rise and you are already drinking. What would he say if he caught you?"

"Doesn't matter," she grumbled as her bottom lip pulled in a little and blinked rapidly, a sure sign she was fighting back her own tears. I could see her start to fold in around herself.

'No, my dear, I am very real. And very disappointed.'

"Bullshit," I yelled. "It does matter! I will prove you wrong. I'll prove to you that he is very real," I growled in my own temper, as I leaned over the table at her, "and I know him. He would be so disappointed in you, right now. Instead of working with the connection, you were trying to drown the memories in whis-," I came to a dead stop as I realized what was actually happening. "How long have you been fighting them? The memories, I mean."

'Told ya. Wait. What!? She'd been wrestling with our memories? Oh, my stubborn Wolf, you were never meant to carry them all yourself.'

She deflated and slid the mug away from her. Resting her head on her arms, she whispered, "I was 14 the first time I remembered anything. At the time it was no more than a whisper, a cold spot when I was upset or hurting. Which, lets be honest, was a lot of the time back then. When I was 16, I finally worked up the courage to talk to someone about my dreams. My mistake was telling Ma."

I cringed. I had heard nasty stories about her mom, but sat still and let her continue.

Is her mother really that bad? How much of this had she been keeping from me.

"She went off and let loose a litany of my supposed short-comings. I still remember it, to this day. 'You are so stupid. Why would any man, especially one like THAT, want anyone like you. Anyone else would be better than YOU; you stupid, worthless, ignorant, ugly, child.' After that, I went back to keeping it all to myself. This one," she said as she brought up Forest Blakk's 'Find Me', "Says it all."

I put on the song and knew how it had hurt her for years. My anger burned when the artist spoke of being told you were crazy. 'I want her, you Crazy Bitch. Good Mother, Please,' I started, before thinking better of the prayer that had been on my tongue a moment ago. 'Please watch over her, Grandmother.'

Hearing her own mother call her those things, was tough to listen to. But I could tell she still wasn't finished yet. I let her go, she had years of this pain to offload.

"As I got older, it changed. I was almost 26 when the burn of a kiss landed on my cheek. My ex-husband, at the time, saw the blister it left and went ballistic. Woke me up by kicking the end of the bed. 'I want a divorce. I don't know who he is, but I plan on making you pay for it. Now, get your stuff and get out.' And I paid for it, alright. Didn't even bother to ask if I had it the night before, just assumed I was sneaking out. I never did. Looking back now, maybe I should have left the first time accused me. The ink wasn't dry on the divorce papers when he got remarried. Literally, got them both done in half an hour."

"Are you kidding me? He wanted to accuse you, but he...," I will admit that I was finally starting to see just how messed up her life had been. "Did you love him?"

'Messed up,' I thought, 'No, Sir. Her life has been a craptastic shitshow of epic fucking proportions. Honestly, I would like to know what fucking moronic bastard ordered this shitastical fuckfest for my Queen! I'd like to fucking throat punch him.'

She shook her head. "No. My mother sat it all up. Literally walked into the house Friday afternoon and said, 'You are getting married on Monday at 9.' He was getting deployed and she thought he would be a good fit for me, that she would get grands out of the deal. She didn't find out he was fixed until he was already gone. That is where I learned to keep my hair really short. He used to drag me around by it and scream about all of the things I did. The next day he would scream and drag me around by it to yell about all the stuff I didn't get done."

"So it was more or less arranged?"

"Yeah. After that, I met the asshole. The day he left, I had just buried a brother, and I had lost my job; all on my birthday. After all that, I fell into a deep depression. To the point where I would wonder sometimes why I was still breathing. It was in that place that I saw him. It was no more than his eyes, the exact shade of my coffee, and that voice, but still; if not for him..." she trailed off, a haunted look in her eyes.

After a few minutes of her staring off into space, I prodded, "If not for him?"

She turned and looked at me, "I wouldn't be here. I would have cut ties with this world and willingly walked right into that darkness. I can remember him telling me once, 'Don't you give up. Don't you dare give up. Get up, keep moving.' It was those eyes though, watching them seem to burn in the darkness. They stayed with me so much that I drew them at least a thousand times."

"Really?"

"Yep. Dark eyes that burn," she chuckled. "Got called crazy for that one, too. 'Why do you always draw the exact same thing, ya crazy bitch? How about a tree or a nice mountain. Why is it always those damned eyes, Not that a worthless bitch like you can draw anyway.' So yeah, there's that."

"Hold it. She actually called you worthless?"

Bryn just nodded. "Multiple times, and ugly quite a few times. At the end with the ex, she told me, 'I hate that when I, and she stressed the 'I', put a block in your path, you seem to dance around it and go off into the woods and still end up on the other side. That you whip off of the beaten path, going God knows where, on some barely visible game trail, and somehow still come out on the other side, just where you meant to be'. She said nothing pissed her off more than my ability to adapt."

'That's my Ghostie,' I thought as I smiled proudly. 'Her ability to see things others miss, explodes lower minds.'

Now, I have seen pictures of her mom and old photos of Bryn when she was younger. Let me tell you, when she was young, Bryn was coltishly pretty before becoming ethereal. Not that you could tell it now. Now, she jokes that she traded looks for brains about the time she got her doctorate.

"So, how did you end up with Clark?"

"He was there and I was getting tired of waiting, tired of my Auntie's trying to set me up with whatever boy they could find. One tried to set me up with her ex-nephew. That was nothing but awkward. We are still good friends, almost family. He has said before, 'I love you to bits, but that is icky, you are like a sister to me. Now, please, go throw on a skirt, you have amazing legs and should show them off.' That boy can turn up the girlfriend vibe in 3 seconds...flat.

I know someone who can do that. Weird.

"In the end, I got tired of the pitying looks I would get at the family things. Truth be told, when I told him to either commit or get out, I thoroughly expected him to take off at a run, like he couldn't get away fast enough. Before I knew what had happened, he told everyone I had proposed and picked a Saturday. After that, it was a whirlwind and I almost took off."

"Took off? Eloped?"

She snickered. "No. Ran away. Far away."

"Oh. So you almost pulled a runner?"

"Oh yeah. Had my bestie stand up with me because I knew that if Haka showed up and objected, he would have knocked Clark to the floor to give me time to run."

'I very nearly did show up.'

I thought back to what I said when he finally left.

"What did I say?" I stood there, leaning on the doorway, arms crossed over my chest, fingers tapping on my bicep. The look on my face was thoroughly parental.

"That it would never work."

"And....."

"You were right, I was wrong, I am sorry."

"You gonna listen to me from now on?" My face was passive, but there if she had looked she would have seen the anger in my eyes. I wasn't mad at her, I was more than a little upset with him, though.

"Yes, Dear."

"Good Girl. I'll be home as soon as I can." I cupped her face, kissed her forehead, and said, "Don't do it again. Next time you won't get away with it, my stubborn Wolf."

"Next time?"

I was turning to head back to my body, "First one doesn't count. It was arranged. This one, you got swept up in. Don't do it again. Now, go to sleep."

I had to breathe a minute against the anger building in my chest. Then, I went back to the story.

"You call him 'Haka'? That's cute."

"Yeah, he's Heyhaka, the Elk. Haka, for short. Then there is Sweet Pea, and the occasional Assbag."

"And is he often a jerk?"

"Nah. Only when he is making promises he has no intentions to keep."

'Listen here, Lady! I fully intend to keep them when they are made, Woman!'

"I really don't think he would make them if he didn't intend on keeping them, Sissie. Sometimes, circumstance gets in the way, and then they don't get the focus they deserve. How does he phrase it?"

"All he says is 'Soon'."

I laughed. "The word 'soon' is not a promise. It's an open guarantee."

"What?"

"It's a half promise. He can't put a time on it so he just says soon. You know, sometimes you can be kind of dense."

'Exactly. You are kind of thick sometimes, Darling.'

Bryn's cheeks pinked. "Aww, shut the fuck up," She laughed.

"You've got a potty mouth!"

My jaw dropped. 'Naughty.'

"Like you didn't know or don't have one of your own. Has he not told you the extent of my sailor's mouth?"

"He doesn't know that I know you. I get to hear about everything from both sides. Kinda makes me wanna poke my ear drums out sometimes."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. You two are fuckin' perfect for each other."

'I guess we are, huh?'

About that time, the kids started waking up. Davidd was first, followed by Mattie, and then Darryn. I was sitting on the couch, getting the walkthrough of how to turn on the cartoon channels when Mattie climbed up next to me and curled up in my side.

"Morning, Munchkin," I said cheerfully.

She sagged against me and whispered, "Morning, Uncle Joey. Can I have some new milk?"

I was taken aback by the simplicity of the request. "Shouldn't you be asking your mom for that?"

"I would but Daddy called and him and mama got into another fight."

'And that just cashed out my good night.', I thought as I could have sworn I heard a knock at my door.

A-N:) Please don't shoot the messenger. Spirit put up some of the tags. Lol.