Author's Note: I'm sorry for such a delay with the update. Really, there are no more excuses my co-author and I can use other than the truth that, emotionally and otherwise, a lot of things have been sapping our attention. Things much more important than our internet lives. Updates will be sporadic, but we will not abandon this fic. Thank you so much for sticking with us. We hope you had a merry Christmas, happy Hanukkah, joyous Kwanza, or whatever you celebrate, and continue to have a happy and healthy New Year.

-Cole-

It was actually pretty cold out, for an early fall morning.

The house was pretty quiet. Only the slight whistle of a few drafts stung my ears at this asinine early hour. My bones felt sort of brittle, the way they get whenever a chill sets in. Settling into my marrow, like a long-lost friend reuniting. I shivered. Not even the scalding hot, shit-tasting coffee Sam and Grace liked was enough to warm up my insides. It felt like I was slowly being chilled from the inside out, like a bottle in a wine-cooler, only backwards. I stared out the back kitchen window, toward the Golden Woods. They looked horribly innocent, and even beautiful. Tranquil, maybe. But I knew those woods and the secrets they held. I knew what those trees whispered, late at night. The songs the wind sang whenever Jack Frost rippled on through.

Although I normally don't go out of my way to wake up early in the morning, in fact, most of the time, the only reason I'm awake in the early morning is because I haven't yet slept, today was one of those days. I stood with my cup of coffee, thinking. An abandoned legal pad and pen lay on the kitchen table. I had been attempting to scribble notes in there all morning. I decided to take a break, and stood here instead. I'm not sure why; and even if I was sure, I doubt I'd be able to put it into words. I just felt like it was the right thing to do, really.

I was thinking. I did a lot of that; a lot more than Sam or Grace or Isabel really thought I did, anyway. My mind flickered back and forth between things, buzzing like a kicked hornet's nest between topics and thoughts. How would I deal with the upcoming winter? I couldn't shift now. I couldn't leave Isabel and Cole Jr. alone. Would the baby have my werewolf-genetics? Well, not really werewolf – shapeshifter, really. But whatever. It still posed a threat. How would the baby react to the temperature drop? How would I fix my "little furry problem", albeit temporarily, like Sam and Grace did? There had to be a safer and more secure way than Meningitis. There just had to.

All I had to do was find it.

But that posed the biggest problem.

That would require hours, days, and even week's worth of studying. Experiments, tests, test subjects, illegal drugs, legal drugs, combinations of drugs, bio-chemical warfare grade shit, disease testing, diseased subjects for experimentation… basically, I couldn't see any plausible solution of any sort without some sort of massive, government-funded project.

"Someone's up early."

I nearly jumped at the comment. Sam had startled me from my thoughts; rose me from my near-delirium. All with a simple sentence and the clang of a pot as he prepared a fresh pot of coffee. Where Sam was, Grace would follow, and I assumed she was probably in the shower and would be down in a few moments.

"Mornin', Ringo." I jerked my head toward him, keeping cool as always as I sipped my disgusting, somewhat lukewarm coffee.

"Whatsup?" He replied, absent-mindedly filling the water-part of the coffee-pot with, well, water. Duh.

"I'm going to be a dad." I stated, as if he didn't know. He just shot me a look of mild irritation and minor confusion before shrugging it off. That bastard had known for weeks about the spawn I'd accidentally brought about; and he had the nerve to shrug me off.

"Stop thinking. You're going to hurt yourself. Some of the greatest and most successful species have evolved without the need for functioning thought processes; I'm sure you'd be able to benefit from that." He retorted, clicking the buttons on the coffee pot – which responded with obnoxiously pleasant beeps.

"It's almost winter." I licked my lips. I had to say it; maybe Sam had some ideas.

He sighed, a deep and heavy sort of sigh that comes from the very bottom of your lungs and chest and forces its way up your throat and out.

"What if… what if something with my genetics got passed to the kid, 'yanno? With the shapeshifting thing. I can't shapeshift, Sam. I can't afford to – I can't leave Isabel and Cole Jr. alone. Not that I don't trust you and Grace, but… I need to be there for them, right? What if this is my last winter, or whatever, before it's done? Like Beck?"

I couldn't help but to pour it out; once I started I just couldn't stop. So I kept going, and by the end I was pretty proud of myself because I managed to keep my voice steady the entire time.

"We'll find a way, Cole. You and your brainy yet illegal concoctions will find a way to help end your shifting; a safer and easier way than Meningitis. We'll keep testing, hopefully with more legal things, and find a cure. Even if it's just a temporary one – just to buy us enough time to work on a bigger and better cure. There's no way this is your last winter; you're too young. You're not me. Besides, you're being totally unrealistic. Isabel wouldn't ever let you name it after yourself." He snorted at the end, rolling his eyes.

I smiled and offered a half laugh, a sort of short bark.

"But what if I'm a shit father?" I couldn't help but to throw out. Part of me actually worried about this, while another part of me whispered something about knowing when the time came.

"Well, then you'll have your ass kicked by a hormonally imbalanced girlfriend, her best friend with a bit of an animal problem, and some dude with a guitar that doubles as a nice clubbing device." He jabbed at me with a snicker.

I laughed, placing the cup of now relatively cold coffee onto the table, abandoning it alongside the crossed-out scribbles in my legal pad.

"Without a doubt."

-Sam-

It's times like these that restore my faith in Cole, as a person. When he actually gives a shit about people other than himself.

Even though we're around the same age, he always seems younger than me when he lets that façade of… superior-ness fall, and trusts me with his insides. As gross at that sounds.

I smiled at his laughing and began to pour a cup of coffee for myself and Grace, whenever she decided to come down – or, whenever the shower ran out of hot water. Whichever came first.

"Hey, Sam?" I heard Cole call again.

"Yeah?" I half drawled, not really wanting to talk philosophy at – what time was it? 9 in the morning?

"We need better coffee."