Fic: Running With The Wolves (Red/Snow, Once Upon A Time)
Title: Running With The Wolves
Fandom: Once Upon A Time
Pairing: Red/Snow
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 4,529
Spoilers: Takes place after 1x15: Red-Handed
Summary: Red has to learn how to cope with it all. Snow helps.
A/N: Written for the rare pairing challenge at femslash_land
There’s a low growl in the darkness. Surrounded in the pitch black of night, I can see nothing; I can hear nothing but that deep, menacing sound.
Harsh scents, the ones that no one else notices, prick my nose - the damp earth beneath the snow, musky sweat, and blood. There is blood everywhere, some spilled onto the ground and some still rushing through hot veins.
Gradually, my eyes adjust to the darkness. I can still hear the wolf. I cannot see him, but I know he is near.
There is a lake before me, and I find myself drawn towards it. I keep looking around, but though the low growl remains audible in the air, there is no one to be seen. No one else but me.
I arrive at the lake’s shore. Although I am not thirsty, the water still calls me forward.
Standing at the very edge, I lean out over the water, calm and just as smooth as the face of a mirror.
I recoil at the sight of the reflection that greets me, but even as an angry snarl breaks the eerie silence, a niggling thought at the back of my mind tells me that this is something I’ve known all along. A long howl of despair is torn loose from the wolf’s - from my - throat.
I take off running, but I cannot out-run the wolf. He and I are one.
***
Red’s eyes shoot open, and she is halfway up and out of bed before her mind catches up with her body. Her hands fly to her face, but all she feels is damp and sweaty skin, instead of the coarse fur she had expected to find.
Closing her eyes, she keeps her hands up and covering her face as she sits slumped at the edge of her bed, pulling desperate gulps of air into her lungs. Slowly, she pulls her hands away, gazing out at them through narrow slits.
They are shaking, but they are human.
“Red?”
She jumps to her feet and whirls around, startled by the hesitant touch at her back.
“Don’t.” Her throat is squeezed tight - sore from a night of crying to the moon? - but she manages to push out the single word. She clears her throat and turns away, unable to meet Mary’s concerned gaze.
“Don’t touch me,” she continues bitterly. “I’m a monster.”
She closes her eyes, but the images from her dream - no, nightmare - flood the backs of her eyelids, and so her eyes fly open once again.
Dream or nightmare, it makes no difference. It is her reality, now.
“You’re not a monster, Red,” Mary protests sincerely. It is sweet, but foolish, of her to say so. “It wasn’t really you. None of this is your fault.”
“All of this is my fault!” Red yells, anger and pain vying for dominance. She spins around once again, taking one aggressive step towards the bed.
Her lips curl back into a snarl as her muscles tense, and she wants to see fear in Mary’s eyes. She wants to see disgust, and hatred, and horror. Instead, all she sees is compassion.
It’s enough to make her feel sick with self-loathing.
She swallows, and though later she’ll believe that she imagined it, she can’t help but think that she can still taste flesh and blood on her tongue, and now she really is going to be sick.
Red rushes to the window, throwing open the shutters just in time, before her insides fight their way up and out of her body. She heaves violently, over and over again, emptying the contents of her stomach.
Mary is at her side, then, holding her hair back and running a soothing hand up and down her back. Even when Red has nothing left to expel, Mary remains, and Red no longer has the energy to push her away.
Instead, she pulls herself back through the window and immediately sinks down into a heap on the ground. She lies on the floor, trying to shrink her tall and lanky body into the smallest possible shape.
Mary sits with her back against the wall, and as mournful sobs begin to quietly spill out of Red’s mouth, Mary simply pulls her head into her lap. Red tries to resist, but Mary is stronger than she looks, and she holds Red in place.
There are no words of comfort, but Mary hums a soft, lilting melody over the sound of Red’s cries, and her hands are gentle but steady as she smoothes out the knots of confusion, grief, and fear.
***
I am running.
I am naked and running through the forest, but my feet barely touch down on the cold, hard snow. Instinct drives me forward, and I am moving too fast to consciously think about navigating the narrow space between the trees, but my body simply knows how to move. There could be a thousand more obstacles, and they still wouldn’t slow me down.
Am I chasing, or being chased?
I have no idea.
***
The next time Red wakes, for a few moments, she’s actually forgotten.
Why is she on the floor? Why is her head lying in Mary’s lap? Why does it feel like her heart’s been tied up into a knot?
She stiffens when it all comes back to her, but Mary merely squeezes her shoulder in comfort.
Part of her wants to stay exactly where she is, curled up in her friend’s loose embrace. Part of her never wants to move, never wants to face whatever has to come next.
It’s the rest of her that eventually forces her body into action. One step at a time; first she simply pulls herself into an upright sitting position, and then she returns to her own two feet and stretches out her stiff muscles. She frowns when she notices Mary’s slight wince at what must be a cramp in her leg.
“I’m sorry,” Red mumbles softly, staring at the floor. “How long was I asleep?”
“Not too long, I don’t think,” Mary replies. “It’s a little past mid-day. Granny came in a bit ago and left some food for us.”
Red just now notices the way her nose is tingling at the smell of venison. She turns to glance distastefully at the food sitting on the table in the corner of the room.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Well, I am,” says Mary. She holds her hand up, and without thinking about it, Red reaches down to hold tightly onto Mary’s forearm and pull her to her feet.
Neither one of them lets go right away. They stand face to face, each silently daring the other to look away first.
Red turns away.
She is calmer now, but she still doesn’t understand. There is a lot that she doesn’t understand, but her focus for now is on a question that she can actually handle - why is Mary still here? Mary knows of the monster that lurks under Red’s skin, but still, she stays. It doesn’t make sense.
“Will it bother you if I...?” Mary doesn’t finish the sentence, but her head is tilted towards the waiting food.
Red shakes her head, but moves back to the open window. She can’t even watch. Thankfully, snow has continued to steadily fall, so when Red breathes in deeply, the scent of her earlier sickness is almost entirely masked.
She has to leave here, she knows. She needs to find someplace where she can’t hurt any more people. There is no other choice. Granny will be better off without her. Everyone will be.
That night, dinner is held in silence. Granny tries to talk, but Red doesn’t want to listen. She can’t bear to hear the shame that she knows Granny must feel because of her. So Red interrupts, and she makes a fuss, until finally, Granny gives in with a sad, downcast look.
Mary tries to lighten things up, but soon she too falls into silence.
Red is hungry enough to try eating, however. She gets through some vegetables and potatoes without any trouble, but as soon as she swallows her first bite of meat, she knows that it’s been one bite too many. She pushes back from the table and rushes to the door, managing to get a few steps away from the cottage before she falls to her knees and once again vomits into the snow.
Both Mary and Granny appear in the doorway, but Red yells brokenly for them to stay away. They hesitate a moment longer. “Please,” Red cries desperately. “Leave me be!”
They disappear back inside, and Red exhales in relief.
It’s not long before there’s nothing left to come up, but still, she stays where she is. She falls backward into the snow, gazing up to the sky. She wishes that she could disappear amongst the stars; instead, she’ll have to resort to disappearing into the trees. Soon.
***
It is Spring, and I smile up at the wide open sky as I float across the surface of the lake on my back. It is peaceful, here. I can’t seem to remember why, but somehow I know that each moment of peace is as welcome as it is rare.
I bump into something behind me. I turn to see, and my grin widens when I catch sight of Peter’s familiar head of hair.
But something is wrong.
There are others in the lake as well, I am only now noticing them, but none turn to me.
They’re dead. They’re all dead by my hand. The lake water is slowly stained red with blood.
And all I can do is scream.
***
Red jerks into consciousness.
It’s still fairly dark outside, but with that slightest hint that dawn will soon be on its way. The wind is blowing strong enough to rattle the shutters. The timing is perfect. She can walk in the same direction as the wind, and it’ll both cover her tracks and carry her scent forward, away from Granny.
As quietly as she can, Red moves about the room, stuffing some clothes, an extra pair of boots, her bow, and various provisions into her rucksack.
She leaves two notes.
To Granny, she says, “I can’t stay here any longer. Please try to understand. I am sure that Jack from the village will be happy to look after you and help in any way he can, all you need to do is ask. Don’t come after me. This is how it has to be. I love you.”
For Mary, the note is simpler: “Thank you,” she writes.
With that done, she is ready. She wraps her red hood tightly around her body, takes one last look at the only home she has ever known, and trudges off into the snow.
Red doesn’t get far, before her ears pick up the sound of someone trailing along behind her. She turns a corner, and finds a stout tree to cover her. She waits until her shadow - it’s Mary, just as Red suspected - passes her by, stopping to look ahead in confusion.
“What are you doing, Mary?” Red calls, causing the other girl to jump in startled fright.
She regains her composure quickly, turning back to face Red and replying, “I’m going with you wherever you’re going, of course.”
Red rolls her eyes, but strides forward once again.
“You already said that people are after you, Mary. I really think that following a wolf is the last thing you should do,” Red advises as Mary falls into step beside her. “I’m going to be on my own, where I can’t hurt anyone.”
Mary stops her with a firm hand on her upper arm. “You were a friend to me when you had no reason to do so. Please, just let me do the same, okay? We could both use a friend right now.”
Red eyes her warily. The thought of a friend does sound incredibly appealing, but... But it’s more than Red deserves. The thought of the monster lying in wait inside her; of the horrors she has enacted; of all that she is capable of... She can’t even trust herself any longer, how could she dare to ask anyone else to trust her?
She turns away, bitter tears running down her cheeks.
“Mary...” she begins, her voice soft and insecure.
“That’s not really my name, you know,” the other girl interrupts. “Remember how you assumed that I couldn’t tell you my name because I’d only just met you and didn’t know whom I could trust?”
Red shoots her a sidelong glance, but doesn’t bother answering. It wasn’t all that long ago, of course she remembers.
Mary - well, whoever she is - offers a beautiful smile and sticks out her hand. Red, confused but curious, reaches out to shake it.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Red.” Her grip on Red’s hand is firm, showing no hesitation. “My name is Snow White.”
***
It’s cold.
I can see my breath, exhaled as mist in the air before me, but when I shiver, I am not sure whether it’s because of the cold, or the fear.
The wolves surround me, forming an increasingly tight circle as they slowly stalk in towards me, one synchronized step at a time. There are six of them, and only one of me. Hardly a fair fight, but that doesn’t seem to matter to the wolves.
There is one of them in particular whose gaze has met mine. I close my eyes against him, and when I open them, everything around me is in sharper focus. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that the wolf smirks at me.
He and the others raise their eyes to the sky, and as one, a chorus of howls echoes through the night.
I only realize that I have changed when my own voice blends seamlessly into their harmony. I look down at my lupine form and shudder, but the usual revulsion isn’t quite there.
The leader ends his call and the rest of us follow his example. And then we are running. There are seven of us, coming together to form one whole.
***
The first time that Red consciously makes a decision to change, it’s only because there’s no other choice. She and Snow have been walking for days, and though they’ve managed to catch enough game, Red has been wholly unable to keep any of it down.
But one cannot subsist on plants, roots, and berries alone, and Red is growing weaker by the hour.
“Red, please,” Snow implores her. “You have to. We’ll track an animal and then I’ll go downwind from you and build a fire, lighting it once you’ve changed. Then your instincts will take over. You won’t smell me, so you won’t go after me. If anything, the smell of smoke will overpower my own, and you’ll just naturally go after the rabbit, or deer, or whatever we find.”
Snow reaches out to cup Red’s cheek in her gloved hand as she continues, “I know you’re scared, but you’ve got to do this. Wolfstime is almost over, but if you don’t eat, you won’t make it that long. I know that you can do this. We’ll teach you to control it. I’ve always had a way with animals, after all,” she concludes with a soft smile.
Red really doesn’t want to even try, but she’s just so hungry...
“If I do go after you...” Red looks down at the ground in shame. “Snow, you have to promise that you’ll use the fire against me if you have to.”
Snow looks like she’s going to protest, but with one pleading look from Red, she closes her mouth and nods.
Afterwards, Red doesn’t remember any of it. She comes back to herself after Snow has managed to safely get close enough to throw the hood over her body. For the first time in too-long, her belly actually feels comfortably full.
The next time that Red accidentally changes, it isn’t even Wolfstime.
The snow is starting to melt, and they’ve come across an abandoned cabin, secluded enough to serve as their new home. It needs a lot of repair work, but they make do the best they can, and it’s far better than anything they’ve had up to that point.
Red had always figured that they’d eventually stop somewhere; this cabin in the woods seems as good a somewhere as any.
One day, though, their evening meal - it’s been a while, now, since she got over her aversion to meat - is interrupted when they hear a loud roar outside their makeshift home. The fear is immediate. Snow’s first instinct is to go for her spear, but Red finds that she cannot move, as images from her various nightmares flood her brain.
Red can never remember anything from her time in wolf’s form. But as Snow tells her later, one moment she’s an immobile young woman, cowering in fright; the next, she’s a strong and angry wolf, literally tearing their door off its hinges - Snow will make a point of complaining about this often in the days to come - and rushing out to meet the threat.
The bear is taken by surprise, and Red’s wolf defends her territory well.
Once the bear is gone, then just as suddenly as before, Red is back to being herself, even without the aid of the red hood. Snow stands in the doorway, looking like she can’t decide whether she should be scared out of her mind, or full of wondrous awe. She seems to be leaning towards the latter.
That’s when they realize that she can really change at any time. It seems to be the base emotions that are most likely to set her off: fear, hunger, desire.
One night Red dreams of... She can’t quite remember all the details, but it’s enough to make her blush.
Snow wakes to the sight of a wolf prowling around the room.
She can’t help the shriek that jumps from her throat, but though the wolf is focused entirely on her, Snow somehow realizes that the animal means her no harm.
There’s something beautiful about Red’s wolf, entirely different from the girl’s own beauty. The sleek brown fur, the ripple of muscles beneath the skin, the bright and piercing eyes... There’s an undeniable magnificence, there.
Still, Snow quickly finds Red’s hood and throws it over the wolf, watching her friend return to normal.
***
The fox should be scared of me, but isn’t.
All it would take is one half-hearted swipe of my paw, and my smaller canine cousin would find himself in a great deal of pain. Regardless, he skips along beside me, darting playfully through the snow.
I almost lose sight of him, as he rushes forward to chase after a hare, his bright white fur blending in with the surroundings.
He soon returns to me, yipping at me cheerfully.
He should be scared of me, but isn’t. He is either very brave, or very stupid.
***
Knowing that she is somehow capable of changing at any time doesn’t mean that she has any idea how to actually do so at will.
Snow has been getting on her nerves, though, and she can’t at all figure out why, until the moment when she finally snaps. Red whirls on her, ready to lash out at the other girl.
The next thing she knows, she’s stumbling backwards and almost losing her balance when she collides with a chair behind her.
Snow stands at the opposite side of the cabin, her eyes wide and her hand pressed to her heart, but she laughs out loud in delight.
“You did it!” she exclaims, beaming proudly. “You roared right in my face, and then literally scared yourself back into being you!”
Red scowls at her, unhappy at having been purposely manipulated, and doesn’t speak to Snow for the rest of the day.
Still... Slowly, but noticeably, it starts to get easier.
The days are growing hotter, and instead of taking the time to fish in the stream behind the cabin or successfully find, track, and shoot game, Red finds herself wishing that she could simply turn into her wolf. It would make hunting so much faster.
One day, just like any other, that’s all it takes. She wishes that she would change, and then some untold amount of time later, her human consciousness comes to again, and now there are two rabbits lying at her feet. It’s disconcerting. But helpful.
It’s not as simple as she first thinks, however. The more she changes, the more she sometimes feels like she is losing her real self. The nightmares return, this time full of the idea that one day she’ll change and never switch back; that she’ll be stuck as a wolf forever.
Sometimes she growls, in human form, without even realizing it. There are times when she catches herself at it; at other times, it takes a gentle stroke of Snow’s hand down her arm to get her to stop.
Sometimes there’s this... hunger that builds inside of her. It’s not for food, exactly. Red doesn’t quite understand what it is.
The first time she’s aware of it, she’s been thinking about Peter. When she notices that she’s licking her lips, she’s disgusted with herself in a way that she hasn’t been in a long time. Snow has long since convinced her that her past, though tragic, is not her fault.
Still, after thinking about it for a while, she concludes that the feeling isn’t about food, or the hunt, or anything like that. What it actually is, though, she cannot articulate.
***
I have been walking for a long time. I’m not sure where I’m going, but it doesn’t seem to matter.
I am alone. I’ve been that way for a long time, too.
There are these two girls in my head. I’ve been thinking about them a lot, but I can’t remember why. They look familiar, but I can’t remember who they are. The not remembering just makes me think about them even more. It feels important, somehow. Like I need to remember.
Are they old friends, maybe? It seems unlikely, since wolves don’t have friends, as far as I know.
I have no idea what their names are; in my head, I just think of them as “the girls in red and white.”
But who are they?
***
The days blur together. They have settled into their lives here, in their cabin in the woods. It’s been almost half a year since they last saw another human being, other than themselves.
Red doesn’t feel lonely, however, and she doesn’t think that Snow does either. She does miss Granny, though. She wonders, sometimes, what happened after they left, what happened to her old life.
Still, in spite of the growing pains, this new life has become a pleasant one.
They are lying in the sun. Well, Red is lying in the sun, luxuriating in the sun’s warm rays. Snow’s fair complexion leads her to remain in the shade. There is a comfortable silence between them; for once, Red feels completely relaxed, able to keep the thoughts which normally plague her at bay.
Two things occur at once, though, which disrupt her sense of equilibrium.
Red notices the strange hunger has been gradually building within her, until it’s strong enough to get her attention. At the same time, she realizes that for the last who-knows-how-long, she has been simply staring at Snow.
She sits up, confused as to how those two things fit together. It bothers her, that she can’t come up with an answer, but that does nothing to help her figure it out.
That night, Red notices in a way that she hasn’t before, just how tactile her friend can be. When she talks, Snow likes to emphasize her words by touching Red on the elbow, or shoulder, or hand. She never hesitates to show her affection with a bright smile or a tight hug. She enjoys the sleekness of Red’s hair, and so will often volunteer to brush out the long locks, always gentle in a way that Granny never was.
Red has never had a problem with any of these things, but tonight... Tonight she sees them in a new light, as the hunger continues to simmer low in her belly even after they have eaten. Red has taken to using the word ‘hunger’ in her mind, as that was the closest equivalent. Now, though, if pressed to put a name to the feeling, she would have to choose a different word.
It’s not hunger, really. It’s more of a sharp edge of...yearning, of longing.
“Red, what’s wrong?” Snow asks, reaching out her hand to lightly stroke the side of Red’s face. The feeling spikes upward at the touch. “Are you all right?”
Red realizes that she’s been lost in thought, frowning to herself. She meets Snow’s concerned gaze, but isn’t sure how to answer.
“I... I don’t know,” she admits. “There’s this feeling inside of me that I don’t understand.”
Snow only means well when she reaches to hold Red’s hand in comfort, but it really doesn’t help matters. “What does it feel like?” Snow queries.
“I don’t know,” Red repeats. “I just... I want...”
She doesn’t know how to finish her sentence, but it doesn’t matter. She knows, somehow, that she has stumbled onto the crux of things. She wants.
If there is one thing that Red has managed to take away from her time as a wolf, it is the ability to listen to her instincts.
So now, Red inhales deeply, allows her mind to go blank, and then leans in to softly press her lips to Snow’s.
She pulls back after a moment. If anything, the feeling has only gotten stronger.
“Oh,” Snow murmurs softly.
Red opens her eyes to see Snow staring at her, her fingertips pressed to her mouth. Finding some bravery deep within her and grabbing hold of it, Red meets Snow’s stare head-on.
With that one, simple kiss, a new level of clarity has come to Red. This feeling inside of her, it’s not just some wolf-instinct; it’s real, it’s human, and it’s all about Snow.
Neither girl says another word, but there’s a moment, when Snow’s gaze suddenly softens. Her eyes flicker down to Red’s lips, and then she is taking a firm step forward and confidently raising her hand to the back of Red’s neck to pull their mouths back together.
It’s a little while before they separate again, breathing much harder than before. A bright smile spreads across Red’s face, an expression of happiness which Snow returns. She doesn’t quite know why, but suddenly she is laughing - a laughter of joy, rather than humor. Snow raises a questioning eyebrow, but soon she is laughing too.
They stand there in the middle of this home they have created, foreheads pressed together, arms wrapped loosely around each other, and mirth pouring forth from their lips.
***
My wolf and I are running, side by side.
Neither chasing nor being chased, we run to feel the wind caressing our face, to feel the miles passing beneath our feet, to feel free.
I cannot out-run the wolf, but neither can he out-run me. He and I are one.
THE END
