Morning brought a brand new world, literally. We woke up to the sound of the wind hissing like a tea kettle. The big romantic flakes of last night are like little bullets now, whipping around everywhere. All I can see out the window is white snow, blanketing everything.

Luckily, we have a shovel here—just one rusty old thing. Jackson is outside now, shoveling paths to the outhouse and the bathhouse.

He gave me the grim news this morning. Winter is here, ready or not, and our bathhouse must be winterized and shut down after today. Now that it has snowed and the temperature has dropped so low, the water in those big drums will start freezing. 

The plan will be to ensure we each get a bath in today and do any laundry needed. We did it a few days ago, so we don't have much. Then, we will take one of the giant water containers into the cabin for the winter, as we can only fit one. It'll be around thirty gallons, and moving it won't be easy. Jax said he usually uses his boat to drag it across the snow. I suggested we try the sled this time, and he agreed. Thirty gallons goes faster than one would think, so we'll have to add buckets of snow every few days to keep it up. 

I stretch my arms out as I stand from the table. In the mornings, I like to sit here and quietly sip water for a little bit, but today, I am moving slower than usual. It took a bit to wake up fully. That glass of whiskey last night made me sleep hard and wake up feeling groggy.

Jax jumped out of bed fast this morning. He usually does. He likes to get up and get at it. I get that, but our lives consist of working, hunting, eating, and sleeping. I need ten minutes of peace in the morning before diving into everything. He doesn't seem to mind me doing the chores a little after him though. 

I glance out the window to ensure Jax is not coming back, and when I don't see him, I slip my pajamas off to change. I pull on my very faded jeans and wear thicker socks. I slip a camisole on because my bras no longer fit and a tee shirt over that, and then I grab Jax's red flannel for the last layer. I pretty much stole this from him. It's so warm, and I love it.

Jax and I took our winter gear out last night and hung it up. I grimace as I grab my heavy winter coat and slip it in. I've been avoiding the heavy coat because I knew I'd be bundled up for months once I started wearing it.

I step outside, nearly blinded by all the white, as I squint my eyes.

"Damn."

I've lived in Illinois all my life and seen plenty of snow and tons of snowstorms. But never anything like this. We got at least a foot, and it's coating everything. I can't see a single damn tree under it all, and it is still going! 

"My traps," I groan. No doubt the heavy snow likely broke all my perfect little snares, and I won't be able to find them in this mess either.

Jax has shoveled a path to the outhouse, and I step onto it. But it's already starting to fill back in with snow as it continues to come down fast and hard. I duck my head down as it whips angrily toward my face, hustling into the outhouse and happy for a reprieve. 

This outhouse was built much bigger than the tiny one by the creek cabin. It even has an actual toilet seat installed on top of an actual bench seat with a hole. It also has a window that we can open to freshen it up. We keep a small water basin opposite the toilet, with soap, toothbrushes, and a lantern on a large shelf built into the structure.

The toilet paper I brought is long gone now. We have a bunch of maple leaves in here that we use and have plenty to last for the winter. They are secured in a five-gallon bucket with a lid next to the toilet. 

I also keep my box of tampons in here in case I ever need them. I have only had one period out here so far, a mild one that lasted about three days. I'm glad because being crampy and crabby out here for a week would suck, but I'm worried too. I know it's unhealthy to be this irregular, but I try not to dwell on it.

After I finish in the outhouse, I hustle out to help Jax. He's probably so tired from moving all this snow himself. I should have got going faster this morning and offered his arms a break.

"Damn he's fast," I mumble as I walk along the freshly shoveled path, I nearly reach the bathhouse when I see the smoke coming up from it.

Shit, is he taking a bath?

Just as I'm about to turn around, I see him shoving the shovel in a snow drift. He shrugs his coat off, hangs it over the shovel handle, and then wipes sweat from his brow. He must've been working hard to get hot in this weather.

Before, I have a chance to make my presence known. He's turned, and his back is to me as he peels off his long thermal shirt.

A horrified gasp escapes me when I see the deep claw marks that run down his back. The scars are cruel and jagged. His upper back looks to have taken the worst of it, as it's deeply gouged into his skin there. Standing there with my mouth agape, I cannot turn away from it.

"Sam?" He turns quickly, looking startled to see me. "What are you doing out here?"

"It doesn't matter, Jax- your back," I exclaim as the tears spill over.

"Oh, sweet Sam, don't cry for me." He's in front of me in moments as he brushes the wet drops away from my cheeks with the pads of his thumbs."I'm alright. It doesn't hurt anymore. It just looks bad."

"You had to heal from that all alone." My voice trembles. I can't get the image of a wolf pouncing on him from my head.

"It's okay... I'm okay." He's wrapping me up in his arms, comforting me when he's the one who went through it. I realize he is beginning to shiver and quickly pull away.

"Jax! You have no shirt on. You're going to get sick!" I scold him, pushing him into the hut. I follow behind him, the tarp closing after us. The fire and steam have warmed it in here despite the brutal weather outside.

"I know I shouldn't have taken my shirt off outside, but I was so hot," he explains hastily. "I'm sorry you had to see these."

He walks towards our clotheslines, where we have some clean clothes and towels hanging, and he takes a change of clothes and a towel down as I come up behind him.

"I'm not," I say softly as I get closer. "Everything that happens to us, good, bad, and the other, becomes who we are, and I want to know you."

"I want that too," he whispers.

I lightly run my fingertip around the edge of one of the deep-embedded claw marks in his back shoulder, a chill running down my spine.

"The wolf that chased you across?" I guess out loud.

He swallows heavily as he turns to look at me with a haunted look in his eyes, he hands me his clothes and towels, as he slowly walks past me a bit towards the tub. My gaze finds those terrifying scars again as I turn and watch him move. I set everything down for him on the ledge near the boat as I carefully watch him. 

"I don't remember much other than running so fast," he's mumbling. "It was so close, and then I heard my jacket ripping before I felt it..."

"Oh, Jax," I say as I step closer. He turns and looks at me with wide, pained eyes.

"I don't know how I got away. I can't remember most of it. I ... think, my mom?" He pauses and looks up momentarily as if he's hoping the answer may be written up there. "Something saved me. I think it was her. I know that sounds crazy, Sam, but — it had its claws embedded in my back. I shouldn't have been able to get away."

"I believe that. I think the ones we love that we lose are always with us," I tell him, and he smiles sadly as he nods.

"Thinking that, it did help." He gulps, and I know... he should talk about it. He needs to talk about it. He went through something so terrifying and traumatic, and he needs to release some of that.

"What do you remember?" I ask gently.

He lets out a shaky breath, his eyes dropping to the ground. "From that day...not much. I remember running so fast, begging and praying that I'd make it, but it was so fucking close, and then the sound of the leather tearing, and then panic —sheer panic took over. The next thing I remember clearly is lying next to the animal with a bloody rock in my hand."

"My gosh," I whisper as I shake my head slowly. He's right in that he shouldn't have survived that. Something was watching out for him, of that I'm sure too.

"I woke up in my boat the next day, southeast from the creek cabin, hiding in a circle of pine trees with a tarp wrapped around them. I vaguely remember running from the creek cabin and setting that up, but it's like a hazy dream. That whole day after the attack is blurry like that. I think I was running on adrenaline and shock or something. I can't even remember feeling the pain that day," he says.

"I think you went into flight mode," I tell him, recalling a report we did about fight or flight response at school.  "Your body just knew it had to get you away as fast as possible. As far as the pain, the response sort of protects you from that too. I think it is  a little like an adrenaline thing." 

"I wish it protected me from the brutal weeks that followed." He shudders a full-body shudder, then drops to his knees.

"Jax!" I rush over to him, kneeling and wrapping my arms around him as he starts shaking. Maybe this was a terrible idea to push him to talk about this. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to bring it all back. You can stop."

"No, it's okay. I want to if you want to hear it." He buries his head into the crook of my shoulder, and I hold him there, stroking his hair.

"I do. I'm here. Talk to me." I do my best to keep my tears at bay and sound strong.

"I woke up screaming every morning. The fucking pain. It was unbearable, Sam. It hurt so bad; all I could do was beg for mercy, but I got nothing. No relief and no comfort. I'd lie on my back in the snow, and that would help for maybe a second, but then I'd be so cold and get up, and the wounds would burn all over again."

"My god, Jax. I am so sorry." I am starting to cry as I hold him, and he's beginning to shake as the memories take root.

" .. it hurt, it hurt so bad," he whispers the words so intently I can nearly feel the pain myself. "I didn't think it would ever stop. I was — ready to give up, but I couldn't because if it was my mom if she was who saved me. I had to live for her, but fuck, it was so hard, so hard to wake up every day and feel that searing pain."

"You are so strong. I don't know if I could have gone on," I whisper into his hair. I hold him tighter, and he starts to sob, full-body sobs.

"I kept asking why. Why save me to put me through this? The days turned into weeks, maybe months, I don't even know... I thought the pain would never end."

"It's okay, let it out," I tell him as I smooth his hair down. "I'm here. Just let it out."

"I kept asking, why me? I felt so alone."

"You're not alone anymore," I promise as I kiss his head and hold him tighter still.

"I think you were why," he mumbles. "It was all so I could  save you."

"I think maybe we were meant to save each other," I say, and he responds by kissing my neck softly as he clings to me, soaking in the comfort I am desperately trying to give him. I can never take those horrifying, painful weeks away from him, but maybe I can ease the memory of it now.

We sit on the floor of that hut for a long time, and I hold him until his tears run dry, and even after. I release him gently as I stand to survey his bathwater. I add one more bucket to bring the hot temperature from the fire down, and then I stick my hand in to ensure it's a good temperature.

"Come here, babe," I say as I hold my hand out for him. "Let's get you in the tub, okay?"

He nods weakly, wiping at his swollen eyes. I hold his arms, keeping him steady while he undoes his jeans. I turn my head as he lowers his boxers and gets in. On any other day, I'd be all red-faced and giddy about being in here while he bathes, but my mind isn't thinking about anything but what he's been through and what he needs from me now.

Once I hear him settle into the tub, I come over to the side and kneel down. I take the soap from him and wordlessly start helping him wash his hair, slowly taking my time with it. He closes his eyes and releases a soft breath, seeming to find comfort in my touch.

I rinse his hair out, and then he leans forward as I start washing his back, trying hard not to cry at the horrible scars that caused him so much anguish for so long. If only I could take every single one of them away.

"I was still in a shit ton of pain when I found this place," Jaz continues the story as I rinse his back. "I was pretty sure wounds were infected. The burning pain was getting worse by the day, and I wasn't feeling good either. It was pure luck finding the cabin. The salt is what saved me. I started boiling salt water, soaking a towel and lying it over my back. After a week, the pain finally started to ease up, and a few weeks later, it finally healed over."

"The strength it took for you to get that," I say in total awe of him.

"I just kept telling myself one more day, one more day, just one more day. Had I not found this cabin, I don't think..." He leaves that unspoken, and my lip quivers at the thought.

"I am so glad you found it.... and you're here with me. I am so .." I trail off as words get lost in all my emotions. 

"I don't want to remember those days anymore," he says in a raw tone as he looks at me. His wet hair is on his face, and his eyes are earnest and vulnerable. "The days before you."

I can't find the words for that. Instead, I'm giving him a teary smile as I brush the wet locks from his forehead. The sadness lifts from his eyes as they meet mine. An affectionate rush of emotion comes over me at that moment, and if not for me kneeling, I think I'd have fallen over.

"I'd sit here and stare at you forever," Jackson says with a slow smile as the mood around us lifts. "But this water is getting kind of hot..."

"Oh shit!" I notice the steam as the fire below is working hard. "You better finish and get out." 

"Yeah, uh, I got to get my front quick," he says. 

We both laugh awkwardly, suddenly realizing how naked he is in front of me. I stand and turn away as he finishes his bath. I squeeze my eyes shut even though I can't see him from this angle.

I listen as he dries himself and then shuffles into his clothes. 

"I'm decent now, baby," he chuckles lightly, but his voice is still raw. 

I turn and find him in his sweatpants and another thermal shirt, drying his hair with a towel. 

"Are you okay?" I ask softly with a tilt of the head.

He lets out a soft breath, his gaze washing over my face as he drops the towel onto the boat ledge. 

"I think so..." he looks slightly embarrassed as he pushes his wet hair from his forehead. "I didn't expect to break down like that. I'm uh–"

"Human," I cut him off. "You're human, of course, you. I don't know how you got past that."

"I didn't either, until now," he says intently as those smoky eyes encapture my attention. "My sweet Sam, come here."

He wraps me up in a tight hug that I melt right into as he kisses my head. We both close our eyes and sigh softly as we savor it.