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vannahfanfics · 4 years

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Courage

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

Characters: Tsunayoshi Sawada, Kyoko Sasagawa

Hello, everyone! Here is my story for Day 3 of Katekyo Hitman Reborn! RarePair Week, for the Prompt “Hilarious or Shocking Reveals”!

Tsunayoshi Sawada had shed tears many times in his young (and unfortunately harrowing) life. He honestly never dreamed he would be blinking away tears while staring admiringly at the rolled-up diploma in his hands. His quivering fingers bent the thin paper when they curled tightly around it. He sunk his front teeth into his bottom lip, but his mind was numb to the dull pain of the action. With a sudden squeal of delight, he crushed the paper in his fist and threw his hands in the air.

“I did it! I graduated high school!” he crowed triumphantly. He puffed out his chest and put his curled fists on his hips to close his eyes and inhale haughtily. “I am not No-Good Tsuna anymore!”

“Yes, you are.” Tsunayoshi deflated like a popped balloon to cast a sordid glare at his home tutor. Reborn had grown significantly in the last several years since the Arcoboleno curse had dissipated, now standing at Tsunayoshi’s waist. The man trapped in a child’s body still dressed way too sharp for his apparent age, donning a neat, pressed suit and his magic chameleon disguised as a hat. He sipped matter-of-factly at his coffee and smirked teasingly at Tsuna. “That paper in your hand doesn’t change the fact that you still have a long way to go- and it was my teachings that earned you that diploma, anyway.”

“Ahhh, Reborn, you’re just as ruthless as ever,” Tsunayoshi grumped and pouted at the diploma. I don’t care what Reborn says! This is an accomplishment, and I’m gonna treat it like one!

“Tsuna, Tsuna!” Takeshi called as he came trotting up, beaming as always, with his father watching with a pleased smile from a distance. “My old man says he’ll treat us to sushi tonight. Everyone is invited!”

“Awesome!”

“I want sushi! I want sushi!” Lambo sprang out from the bushes where he had been presumably playing in the dirt looking for worms, as evidenced by the smears of soil he left on Tsuna’s uniform pants as he pawed at them. Tsunayoshi recoiled with a whine, looking dejectedly at the streaks of brown disfiguring his pants. Lambo skipped over to Takeshi and began running circles around him, bleating about sushi. The afroed boy had undergone a similar growth spurt, only slightly shorter than Reborn, but he had not acquired much in the way of maturity. Takeshi laughed good-naturedly and patted Lambo on the head affectionately. Nothing ever dampens Yamamoto’s spirits, Tsunayoshi thought warmly.

“Hey, little brat, you’re so loud,” Hayato griped as he strolled up with his hands in his pockets, and his diploma tucked in a back one. Scowling, he pushed on the back of Lambo’s head with the sole of his shoe. Though it couldn’t have hurt much, Lambo still took great offense. The little boy plopped down on his behind and began to bawl, screaming about how mean Hayato was to him. “Shut up, you baby! I didn’t hurt you!”

“Gokudera! Stop tormenting my dear sweet Lambo!” Tsunayoshi narrowed his eyes at the familiar but very out-of-place voice. Haru came running into the schoolyard to scoop Lambo up and press him into her bosom. Lambo cooed and snuggled into her breasts, clearly with lascivious intent, but Haru nuzzled his fuzzy head endearingly.

“What are you even doing here?!” the bomb expert griped. She shot him a seditious pout and a stony glare.

“I came to see Tsuna graduate, of course! Our school just finished, so I rushed over here. And what do I find? Gokudera is as much a villain as always!”

“Oh, can it, stalker!”

“I am not a stalker! I am a lady in love!”

Tsunayoshi abandoned the duo to their quibbling and pushed himself onto his tip-toes, head craned back to scan the many craniums of the students mingling in the courtyard. He did not find who he was looking for, but close enough. He could hear Ryohei screaming about the usual nonsense from a mile away. Wherever Ryohei is, Kyoko must be! he thought and pushed into the crowd.

Tsunayoshi was still small compared to his peers, so squeezing through the many chattering students was a chore. He followed Ryohei’s crowing and howling laughter towards the center of the mass of people. With a grunt, he pushed through two very stocky football players before stumbling out into a circle of green grass. Tsking, he smoothed out the creases in his shirt and pants and fixed his fluffy bangs, then inhaled deeply and straightened his back. He fingered the box-shaped lump in his front pocket nervously, eyeing the beautiful young girl chatting amiably with her overzealous boxer brother.

All right, Tsuna! It’s now or never!

“Kill him! Kill the Vongola Tenth!”

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” Tsunayoshi screeched in anger and tore at his orangey-caramel hair in frustration. As machine-gun fire ripped across the yard, the new graduates erupted into confused screams and scattered like marbles. Thankfully, whoever was attacking only meant to entice the Vongola family into retaliating, so the fire harmlessly rained down into the grass and concrete. Ryohei shoved Kyoko behind him and threw up his fists, while Tsunayoshi begrudgingly trotted over to stand beside him.

“What cowards! Show your faces and fight like a man!” Ryohei yowled and shook his bandage-wrapped fists.

“Can they not?” Tsunayoshi replied with a groan. “Can they just go home?” The yard had thinned in a matter of seconds; all the crowd had spilled out into the streets and run for cover, leaving just the mafia family behind. Takeshi had drawn his katana and Hayato his bombs. Kyoya (who had been lounging around the school though he had graduated before them) was standing across the yard with his tonfa, frowning. Chrome, brandishing her trident, scampered up with Haru clinging to the hem of her shirt. Lambo was sitting in a puddle of his tears, and Reborn was nonchalantly sipping the last dregs of his coffee.

“Reborn! Do you have any idea who these thugs are?” The Vongola Tenth asked his tutor. Reborn pretended not to hear him. “You little-! Gaaaaaah, let’s just get this over with,” Tsunayoshi huffed and activated his Dying Will Flame, alighting his forehead with the orange glow and materializing his gloves on his hands. “Come out!”

“Yeah, so I can blow you all to Hell!” Hayato sneered. Dozens of armed men in black suits appeared on the rooftops, with a man in a mink overcoat at their head.

“My name is- Hey, what the fu-?” Tsunayoshi didn’t give the mafia leader a chance to introduce himself, instead opting to blast his way up to the roof and drop-kick him in the face. As their leader slid across the tiled roof with an imprint of Tsunayoshi’s shoe across his forehead, the underlings could only gawk at Tsunayoshi’s malice and prowess. Tsunayoshi, his expression blank, flexed his fingers.

“One day. Can’t I have one day without some goons crashing in and threatening my life and the lives of my friends? Seriously, did it have to be graduation day?” Tsunayoshi griped as he advanced on the man, who was now crawling away on his hands and knees blubbering. The men around Tsunayoshi howled angrily and trained their weapons on him, but before any of them could fire a single shot, his Guardians jumped into the fray. Within seconds, the attackers’ formation crumbled into chaos. Tsunayoshi ignored the mania to stride over to the leader.

“Have mercy!” the leader pleaded as he pressed back against the roof’s wall, shaking like a leaf and staring fearfully at Tsunayoshi. Using Leon in the form of a mini-helicopter, Reborn perched himself atop the fence and tutted at the poor excuse of a man.

“How shameful. Did you really think you could take on the Vongola Tenth with such a small force and such little resolve? This is an insult.”

Tsunayoshi smothered his Dying Will flame and pouted up at his tutor.

“Rebornnnnn, please don’t tell me this was some kind of training exercise or scheme…”

“Of course not. Even I am kind enough to allow you to enjoy your graduation day.”

“Y-you asshole! How dare you patronize me!” the mafia boss screamed and lunged at Tsunayoshi. A knife glinted in the sunlight, shooting towards Tsunayoshi’s throat, but his hyper-intuition made dodging it an easy task. The young Vongola Tenth side-stepped the attack, leaving the manic man stumbling across the roof. Takeshi dispatched him with a neck-chop to his pressure point, and he crumpled like a doll.

“That was no fun. I wanted a challenge,” the swordsman whined and sheathed his katana.

“I would rather not have to deal with stuff like this at all! One day! Just one! That’s all I want!” Tsunayoshi argued. Takeshi just laughed animatedly, like he always did, squinting his eyes happily. When he stopped, he glanced down at the ground with a confused grunt.

“Oh? Tsuna, what’s that?”

Tsunayoshi knew exactly was Takeshi was referring to and released a high-pitched screech, but before he could retrieve the precious object, Lambo scampered over and swiped it.

“No! Lambo! Give it back!” he wailed and chased the afroed, horned child across the roof. Lambo screamed elatedly, pleased with the chase, and opened the box as he ran in circles with Tsunayoshi in hot pursuit.

“A ring! It’s a ring!” Everyone froze, including the girls, who had just mounted the steps.

“Ahhhhhh! Tsuna is finally going to make Haru his mafia wife!” Haru trilled and clasped her hands beside her cheek. Clenching his teeth, Tsunayoshi shot her an incredulous look before lunging for Lambo, who had stopped running in his bewilderment of everyone’s reactions. He yelped as Tsunayoshi snatched the ring box and hid it behind his back.

“Lambo’s lying! It’s not a ring!”

“Uh, yeah it is, Sawada,” Kyoya blinked disinterestedly. Tsunayoshi growled at him, infuriated that he was no help to his cause; it was just par for the course, because since when did Kyoya care about anything but his naps and the middle school?

“Who’s it for? Who’s it for, Tsuna?” Ryohei grinned and bolted over to shake him. Tsunayoshi released startled gasps as his brain rattled in his skull along with all his other bones under the boxer’s relentless jarring.

“Gah! Ah! For the love of-! Kyoko! It’s for Kyoko!” he choked out. Ryohei ceased shaking him to gawk stupidly at him. Tsunayoshi went pink from the base of his neck to the top of his forehead. He shouldered away from his Sun Guardian, fidgeting with the box incessantly. Kyoko gawked wide-eyed at him from across the roof, mouth agape. Ugh! I had wanted to do this in private, but since when does anything in my life go as planned? he lamented. He cleared his throat before striding over to the girl, trying to seem dignified. It was a meaningless effort, because his knees buckled as soon as he reached her. “K-kyoko,” he stammered, then swallowed thickly, hating how quivery his voice was. He tried again, opening the box as he did so to reveal a silver band with a tiny pink opal in the center.

“K-Kyoko, this isn’t how I wanted this to go, but…. I’ve loved you for a long time. You were the motivation to get me through the hardest parts of my life. This is a promise ring,” he explained with a glance down at the jewelry. “M-my life is really dangerous now, with the mafia and all, and because of that, I’ve put your life in danger far too many times… B-but, with this ring, I promise to protect you, always, a-a-and love you w-with everything I h-h-have…” His voice grew high-pitched and trembly at the end, making his blush redden to a tomato color. With shaking lips and shaking hands, he extended the ring to her. “P-please be my girlfriend, Kyoko!”

“Nice delivery,” Hayato muttered sarcastically, which made him hunch his shoulders up to his ears. He heard Hayato yelp as his sister slapped him upside the head. Still, he kept his eyes firmly locked on Kyoko’s face, watching as she studied the ring curiously. His breath halted as she reached out with slim fingers to pull the ring from the box and admire it in the sunlight. The little pink opal sparkled beautifully, but not nearly as wonderfully as her eyes, Tsunayoshi thought. His heart somersaulted in his ribcage as she smiled broadly and slipped the ring onto her right ring finger.

“I accept.”

“Yes!” Tsunayoshi howled and threw his hands in the air triumphantly. “Kyoko said she’ll go out with me! This is the best day of my life!”

“Sawada!” Tsunayoshi cringed and hid behind Kyoko as Ryohei barked his name. He hunched down to peer above Kyoko’s tiny shoulder, watching fearfully as her elder brother stomped across the roof to cross his arms and glowered down at him.

“R-ryohei, I can explain…”

“No. I’ve heard enough,” he grunted with a stern expression. Tsunayoshi whined and squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for one of the boxer’s devastating punches. Instead, he felt a hand ruffling his fluffy hair. He cracked an eye open to see Ryohei grinning and even crying a little. “This is so exciting! I know you will take care of my sweet little sister.”

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, big brother. You’re the one who needs taking care of, getting beat up all the time!”

“Heyyy, Kyoko, that was so mean…”

“So are Tsuna and Kyoko getting married?” Lambo asked Chrome while sucking on his index finger.

“No, no, they are just dating,” the illusionist responded. “I think…”

“Hey! This is just one more thing to celebrate over sushi!” Takeshi laughed good-naturedly.

“I’m leaving,” Kyoya snorted and whirled on his heel to begin striding for the stairs. He bristled when Takeshi clapped a hand on his shoulder and turned him around.

“Come on, Hibari, don’t be such a stick in the mud! Surely you like sushi? My father makes the best.” Kyoya glowered before clicking his tongue thoughtfully.

“Do you have tuna sashimi?”

“Of course.”

“Fine. But I’m going for the sashimi, not because we’re friends.”

“Sure, sure.”

Tsunayoshi watched fondly as his friends rejoiced on the rooftop, smiling alighting their faces like beacons as always. As Ryohei scampered over to throw his arms around a laughing Takeshi’s shoulders, Kyoko looked at him with a sweet smile, making Tsunayoshi’s heart stop in his chest.

“You’ll keep your promise, won’t you, Tsuna?” He blinked, then smiled lovingly at the girl he had adored for the longest time.

“Of course, Kyoko. I’ll protect you with my life. I swear it.” His eyes snapped wide open when she leaned in to press a small kiss to his cheek, leaving bright pink heat in her wake.

“Good- but don’t be in a hurry to throw your life away. I’d miss you so much, Tsuna.” Smiling charmingly, she skipped over to Haru and Chrome, wherein they cooed over the pretty pink-gemmed ring. Tsunayoshi slowly raised a hand to his cheek, a smile slowly spreading over his face.

“I’m proud of you, Tsuna,” Reborn remarked and patted the back of his thigh. “I never thought you’d do it, really.”

“It’s all thanks to you, Reborn. You gave me courage.”

“No,” the mafioso retorted with a sly smirk. “You always had the courage. I just taught you how to find it.” Tsunayoshi nodded in agreement.

“Yeah. You sure did, Reborn.”

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

Tag List: @khrrarepairweek, @deliathedork

#khrrarepairweek2020 #khrrarepairweek #tsunakyoko #tsunayoshi x kyoko #tsuna x kyoko #kyoko x tsuna #kyoko x tsunayoshi #tsunayoshi sawada #sawada tsunayoshi #kyoko sasagawa #sasagawa kyoko #khr #katekyo hitman reborn #katekyoshi hitman reborn #hitman reborn #khr fanfiction #khr fanfic

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unholyhelbiglinked · 5 years

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Camp BeaverBrook | 018

READ FROM THE START | AO3 LINK

Emily’s grasp was thick and domineering. Bloodied fingers dug into her side hard enough to leave little purple moons against clammy skin. Aubrey didn’t mind too much- she figured that was a good sign. Maybe she hadn’t lost too much blood. Maybe the fact that she was so cold wasn’t due to a slowly flickering flame- maybe it was just the frigid weather.

The moonlight leads the way, she can’t decide if that’s a God sent or not. They can see what’s in front of them as clear as day: The way little crystals of ice form on Beca’s ice-cold hair. The way A bruise wraps its deathly hand around Chloe’s neck. The wet blood that dripped around Emily’s lips. Who deserved justice more?

There was an eerie calm that had fallen over the camp. The campers had left- the counselors that were smart enough to follow were probably sitting in a warm diner right about now, or one of the darkened hotels that presented itself along the interstate. None of the name brand stuff that offered breakfast, the places where you would be lucky enough to find a room without a switch that made the beds vibrate.

She couldn’t hear any crickets, though. None of them could. That was a sign of danger and everyone knew it.

When she was younger, the house two blocks over caught on fire. Plumes of toxic smoke floated into the sky and the decaying scent of rotting wood being enflamed filled Aubrey’s lungs as she rode her bike around the corner and stopped just short of getting hit by an ambulance with roaring sirens.

She noticed a lot that day, a lot of noise that was impossible to drown out. But one thing that did hit her was the silence of the morning birds that sat on the powerlines and watched a family home destroyed in utter silence. Maybe it was out of respect, or maybe it was out of fear.

She hugged Emily closer at the memory and adjusted her fingers against her hip. Chloe held wordlessly onto the other side While Beca walked ahead of them all, her fingers on a trigger that she probably didn’t even know how to shoot. It made Aubrey feel uneasy.

Every time she blinked; she swore she felt it. Felt the wood under her fingertips as she pushed into the cabin that she had signed her final paperwork in. But it wasn’t just a cabin, it was Gail’s home. She braved the winters up here- felt safe up here. Until someone, Beca, maybe, stormed in and shot her between the eyes. A mercy killing. The blood dripped from her nose like cherry syrup.

“She couldn’t have been in two places at once.” Emily’s voice carried with the wind.

“Huh?”

“Beca… fuck, she uh, she was with Chloe and me. It’s not humanly possible for her to get across the camp in that amount of time. To blow up the shed… to strangle Chloe. She’s right, there are two of them and she’s not either.”

Aubrey frowned. She nearly failed statistics in her junior year. Not due to lack of trying, just because the logic of it all would throw her off from the equation. It was hard for her to admit that she was wrong, even harder when it was some snot-nosed counselor that pushed her buttons every single chance she got. She decided to focus on the old car in front of them instead. Its doors closed and something of a dummy leaning against the driver side window.

He almost looked fake and blue under the full moon. His eyes were closed, and that same dried brown liquid was spilled from his throat. Beca let out something like a grunt as she pressed her shirt sleeve against her lips with her free hand. Aubrey could smell it too. The blood and tobacco.

“Someone help me here,” Beca said, pulling open the door with conviction. Hesitation if not for survival. “He’s a heavy dude.”

Aubrey wordlessly leaned Emily against the hood of the car. Chloe instantly kneeling to adjust the strip of fabric that was keeping the young girl from fading out completely. It was soaked to the point of being pitch, like the sky.

“What was he like?” She nearly choked on the laden air as she grasped the other side of the fallen officer. His badge was luminescent in the moonlight. Beca edged herself around him, letting him crash to the ground in a heap of weight.

“He was a dick. A real pain in my ass who smoked enough to make up for a textile. But now I can see why he did it.” Beca placed her knee against the now empty drivers’ seat, the leather cold as she searched around in the scare visibility for something, anything, that resembled keys. “They’re not here.”

“What?” Aubrey asked.

“You heard me, they’re not here. I swear to god I left them in the center consul when I grabbed the gun but-“

“Don’t you know how to like… hop a car or something?” Emily asked from the front of the hood.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re right. I went from tagging walls to Grand Theft Auto, Emily.”

Chloe shot a deathly glare from her perch next to the wounded camper and Beca slightly coward under it before she dragged her fingertips around the console once more. No keys with a fuzzy white rabbits’ foot on it. Nothing but ash that stained the grooves in her fingertips a dark grey.

“Do you need some light?”

Aubrey’s chest seized, her heart in the throat and a cold sweat instantly beading against her skin. that voice, a voice, that she recognized whole-heartedly but never expected to become privy to while they searched a dead man’s car for a set of keys that may or may not start an El Dorado whose gas tank was probably on empty.

Beca Mitchell apparently held the same affinity for the situation. Her hand quickly wrapped around the weapon with a dull click as she whipped around and pointed the weapon dead in the direction of the newcomer: Jesse Swanson.

Brown eyes were wide, and fingers twitched in the cold of the night. He wore a dark flannel over his yellow camp shirt. That stupid little green beaver glared at them, almost mocked them. “Whoa, Jesus Maverick, I thought you had never seen Top Gun.”

Beca glanced sparingly at the other girls as she adjusted her stance, shoving the weapon back into the hem of her pants. “You can’t sneak up on a someone like that dude. Not now. What are you even doing here? I thought you would have left by now?”

“And miss the genuine chance to be a part of something this big? Haven’t you ever seen Sleepaway Camp?” He said excitedly. Almost with pure glee. “there’s no way I’m passing up that chance… where’d you get a gun anyway?”

“Doesn’t matter. You’ve got that light?”

Jesse nodded and rounded the other side of the car before he pulled the door open with a long creak. Aubrey stepped to the side, her arms crossed over her chest, part of her wanted to pull the warmth in. The other part thought that if she held tight enough maybe it would keep her bones from falling into a pile on the soft grassy floor like an old Steamboat Mickey cartoon.

He flipped open his chrome zippo and it gave an instant orange glow to the car. Beca could see now that it had more to offer than just ash. There was a half-smoked cigar and a few ketchup packets that had yet to be unopened. She never took Wilken’s as the one to get fast food, but she couldn’t’ blame him.

She glanced up, frowning as the hot glow shaded half of her face in ghostly shadows that screamed in the night. “I don’t see them.”

She hadn’t noticed it before. The night dark and her heart echoing in her ears like a steel drum. The brown scratches against the edge of his cheek. Cutting across clear skin that was beading with cool moisture. A bruise stretched around them like a marking- a brand. A dead give-away.

Beca mumbled a few profanities before she stumbled back from the car altogether. It was useless anyway. The keys were gone, probably shoved into someone’s pocket. It was nothing but a barrier. Aubrey nearly caught her, but Beca was quick, once again grasping for the gun- breath thick with the scent of blood that seeped into the soil like water. She didn’t pull it, not just yet.

“What happened to your face?” She asked, the girls watching from the hood.

He laughed, scoffed really. “What?”

“Your cheek. It’s scratched. What happened?”

Jesse glanced around; four blinking eyes boring into his. His fingers reached up to the welt, barely noticeable when the light from the zippo vanished in his movements. “I work in a kitchen, Beca. I nicked it is all, no big deal.”

Beca tightened her grip around the gun. She was fast. It was somewhat natural of her now, to pull it- to have the adrenaline rush through her veins. Fast was something she had always been: Fast with excuses and fast when it came to dodging the local law enforcement through city streets.

Jesse was faster. Her pulled Chloe flush against his body as she let out a sharp scream, as much as she could muster. He moved her arm against her chest, keeping her in one place with the tip of a hunting knife against the edge of her throat- once more in peril. The steel blinding against a browning bruise. Emily stumbled into Aubrey, pressing her fingers against her lips.

“It was you at the lake-“She said, voice tight. “You tried to drown me!”

“Yeah, I did. And maybe if I had you’d have a better chance at finding your keys.”

“Why?!” Beca yelled over his last words. Tears were threatening to boil over. They were dripping down Chloe’s muddied cheeks in clean lines. Her fingers dug into Jesse’s arm, struggling to keep it from pressing too hard. “Why are you doing this? Tell me or I’ll shoot!”

“You’re not that good of a shot, Mitchell, don’t fool yourself.” He hissed; words reaped with poison. “I’ll shove this blade into her carotid artery before you even have a chance. She’ll bleed out just like your mall cop did.”

Beca sniffed, pulling in as much oxygen she could as she pushed the base of her palms against her forehead out of frustration, the gun pointed to the sky for just a moment before it was aimed back at its target. Her eyes were red, the tears finally spilling over and dripping past her chin.

“Do it,” Chloe choked out. “Beca, it has… it has to stop. It’s okay, look at me.”

She struggled, swallowed in a gulp of cold forest air. Chloe’s eyes looked bluer than they ever had before. Maybe it was the dull moonlight or the darkness of Jesse shielding her from the rest of the world. But there was honesty there. It was warm. The only warmth she had felt all night.

Her voice was one with the camp, a demand. “Do it.”

Beca let out a scream of frustration, closed her eyes, and pulled the trigger.

#Beca Mitchell #Chloe Beale #Aubrey Posen #Emily Junk #Bechloe #Junksen

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juju-on-that-yeet · 6 years

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> SHOOT RIGHT > NO

In my defense, the good ending isnt done yet ;w;

This is the bad end in which Dark stays dead forever and the other egos have to cope. Be warned that theres some pretty messed-up stuff in here. I added new tags on AO3, Take a look at those before you read if youre worried.

Tag list: @spookyscarydarky @alliedoesstuff

Happy reading?

> NO

“Well?” Chrome asks.

Dr. Iplier shakes his head.

“He’s not going to come back,” he says, somber and quiet, “It’s been weeks, and the bullet wound is the same as it was when he first got shot. If he was going to heal, there’d be some progress by now.”

Chrome’s eyebrows knit together. He was never Dark’s biggest fan, but Dark is still one of them, not to mention the leader of them all. Chrome is young, he’s never seen a figment die like this before.

“What happens now?” he asks.

“I…” Dr. Iplier shudders. “I have to tell the others. I have to tell everyone.” He begins to pace as it sinks in. “Dark’s dead, the others have to know. Wilford…fuck, Wilford might kill someone. He might kill me. Someone has to watch Yan…”

“I can watch him,” Chrome says, “And I can put out an alert for a meeting.”

Dr. Iplier pauses, surprised to hear the most crochety of the Googles offer help.

“Yes, please do, thank you,” he replies. He sighs. “This is bad. This is really bad.”

Chrome nods as he sends a mental ping to his brothers, letting them know that a group meeting is to be called.

Dr. Iplier leaves the clinic, still muttering.

Yandere sleeps a dreamless sleep.

Yandere misses the meeting, which is for the best. Dr. Iplier relays the news, and despite how uncertain they all were to begin with, they can’t help but be shocked. Wilford takes the news especially poorly, putting a dozen new holes in the conference room. It takes all three attending Googles to restrain him, but by some miracle no one is shot. It takes quite a long time for the meeting to calm down, and Dr. Iplier is beyond drained by the end of it.

When he walks back to the clinic to see if Yandere has woken up yet, he finds him sobbing into Chrome’s chest. Chrome, meanwhile, holds Yandere with a pained expression that he doesn’t bother disguising when he turns to Dr. Iplier. The doctor bites his lip as he walks over.

“Oh, kid,” he says softly, sitting down beside Yandere and Chrome. He lays a gentle hand on Yandere’s shoulder, and feels it shake as he cries. “I…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t…don’t say it,” Yandere chokes out through his sobs, “P-please don’t say it.”

Dr. Iplier’s mouth snaps shut. It’s in his nature as a figment to say what he’s about to say, so doesn’t let himself say anything at all. Chrome is silent, too, and the pair comfort Yandere as best they can.

Several days go by as Yandere cries almost nonstop, curled up in a clinic bed with half a dozen IVs in his arm. He starts to recover despite himself under Dr. Iplier’s care, and Chrome is practically glued to his side the entire time. Dr. Iplier and Chrome both know that Wilford is always the best at comforting Yandere, but they also know that they can’t go to him for help right now, not when the man is barely himself.

Since the meeting, Wilford has become more erratic than ever. He paces, mutters, twitches, and doesn’t respond when others try to talk to him. Before long he ends up in Dark’s room, taking Yandere’s place there. But instead of cuddling Dark and talking to him quietly, Wilford rages. He screams at Dark so loud the whole building can hear, curses him for doing this, for dying on him again, or else he laughs, letting out peals of deranged hysterical laughter because surely it’s another joke, isn’t it? It has to be another joke, Dr. Iplier is in it, and it certainly was a fine prank, but it’s gone on too long, it’s not funny anymore, quit joking around and wake up Dark it’s not funny wake up come back not again not again not again not again it’s been ten hours it’s been so much more than ten hours Dark you asshole you self-absorbed bastard don’t you fucking do this to me–

As angry as he gets, somehow he always stops short of violence towards Dark. He’ll punch the wall or fire into the ceiling, but he never touches Dark. Anyone who enters the room to talk sense into him is fair game, however, so the other egos mostly leave him alone.

Eventually, though, Wilford and Yandere both calm down, and the other egos decide it’s finally time to bury Dark before either of them get too upset again.

When Dr. Iplier leaves that meeting and enters the clinic, this time he finds Yandere laying in his hospital bed, staring at the ceiling with tired, half-lidded eyes. Chrome is sitting nearby, silently watching as per usual.

“Hey, Yan,” the doctor begins as he approaches Yandere’s bedside, “How are you feeling?”

Yandere says nothing. He doesn’t even look at Dr. Iplier.

“Look, Yandere, we’re having the funeral tomorrow,” he says, knowing he doesn’t have to – and shouldn’t – clarify for whom, “Do you want to be there?”

There’s a long pause as Yandere closes his eyes. When he opens them, his blank expression remains unchanged.

“Of course,” he says, voice flat and monotone and so unlike Yandere that it hurts Dr. Iplier to hear.

The funeral happens with every ego in attendance but Wilford, who couldn’t bear to see his oldest friend go under the ground. It’s somber and mostly quiet, though the most sensitive among them can’t help but cry.

All but Yandere.

Throughout the entire sad ceremony, Yandere’s expression remains blank. His eyes are glazed and half-lidded, but they stay dry. His lips are a straight line, never turning even slightly up or down. His steps are measured and quiet, his arms at his sides, body language stiff. He doesn’t shed a single tear, doesn’t say a single word, doesn’t give Dark any last touch before he’s buried. He’s since healed up from his time spent not eating or sleeping, but he still looks like a ghost as he stands among the other egos, silent and nearly still. He stares at the ground where Dark is buried, remaining there even as the others leave. For nearly an hour he stays there.

Mourning.

Brooding.

Plotting.

Mark already knows what’s going on. He was shocked to hear of Dark’s death, and despite how much he and Dark hated each other, he still expressed sorrowful and guilt-stricken apologies to the other egos when he was told about it. Yandere doesn’t doubt Mark’s sincerity, but sincerity cannot raise the dead, nor can it make up for what death takes. An apology isn’t good enough. There needs to be something more.

Consolation.

Reparation.

Revenge.

And Yandere knows just how to get it.

The other egos, by now, are used to him leaving Ego Inc. and traveling through Los Angeles to have fun or let off steam. So no one thinks anything of it when he slinks away from Dark’s grave and disappears into the city.

Mark takes a moment to sit back and stretch for as he edits a video. He’s been at it for only an hour, but already he finds himself getting distracted by his thoughts as he works. Perhaps it’s because he’s editing footage of himself playing a horror game, but he can’t help thinking about Darkiplier.

It’s stunning to know that he’s dead. That something as simple as a Valentine’s video, intended to be goofy and lighthearted and a treat for the fans, was the thing that did it. It’s almost poetic; videos brought Dark into the world, and a video took him out of it. It’s sad, too. Mark didn’t like Dark, still doesn’t like him now that he’s gone, but he can’t help but feel a strange sort of sorrow. Maybe the fans were the ones who created him originally, but they only made him because Mark gave them the idea. In a way, Mark made him, and he hadn’t meant to cause his death. His friends have already told him it wasn’t his fault and that no one could’ve predicted this outcome, and objectively Mark knows it’s true, but he can’t help but feel responsible. It had been Dr. Iplier who told him, and Mark could hear in his voice how serious the situation is. Dark had led all the egos, who’s going to do that now? Mark’s first thought is Wilford, but having created him, he can’t imagine him as a very effective leader. So who, then? Mark doesn’t know. He suspects Dr. Iplier doesn’t know either. The entire future of the egos is up in the air, all because of a video that, by all accounts, should’ve made Dark stronger.

He sighs to himself, shakes his head to clear his thoughts, and decides to go back to editing. He slips his headphones back on, but before he can unpause the footage he was looking at, he hears Chica running through the hall, hears her claws scrabbling on the hardwood. He takes his headphones off again, wondering if she might need to go out. Chica makes a deep sound, somewhere between a bark and a woof, and beneath it, Mark hears a door opening.

Wait, that can’t be right. He’s the only one in the house aside from Chica. He isn’t expecting any visitors, and even if he was, they wouldn’t be able to just come inside. This is Los Angeles; Mark can’t afford to leave his front door unlocked, and he never does.

He stands from his chair, walking to the door of the recording room he’s in and pressing an ear against it, trying to listen to whatever’s happening in the house more clearly. He knows he could hear better if he just opened the door, but he’s too nervous to. Chica continues to bark, sharper now, in a way that suggests whatever’s she’s seeing is unfamiliar to her.

Mark’s heart stops when, between Chica’s barks, he hears a voice telling her to hush.

He pulls away from the door and instinctively puts a hand over his mouth, hoping whoever’s here – whoever’s invaded his home – doesn’t know he’s here. Hoping whoever’s here isn’t out for blood. The kitchen is within sight of the front entrance, his wallet’s on the counter there. It’d be a hassle to cancel and replace his cards, but the best-case scenario in his mind is whoever’s here snatching his wallet and leaving as quickly as they came. Mark hopes they don’t hurt Chica, who continues to bark and growl.

Until she stops.

Mark feels ice freezing his veins. Why did she stop barking? He can hear the person walking around still, no longer telling Chica to be quiet. Emotion rises in Mark’s throat. Is Chica hurt? Did this person break into his house and hurt his dog? Or worse? Terror grabs hold of Mark’s heart, but he stays where he is, frozen in his recording room. He wants to go out and confront this son of a bitch, find out if Chica is alright, but he has no idea what he’d do if the other person started a fight. What if they’re armed? Mark hasn’t heard a gun go off, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have one. Or a knife, or a bat, or anything that could’ve silenced Chica quietly.

That thought makes Mark whimper from behind his hand, but he doesn’t move. He feels like a coward as he listens to whoever is in his house walk around a little more before the front door shuts.

Then, all is quiet.

Mark waits, silently counts to ten, before throwing open the door and running down the hall, rushing to the kitchen. He finds Chica laying on the floor, chewing something between her paws, blood spotting her neck and back.

“Chica!” Mark cries as he reaches her. He pats Chica all over, looking for injuries, not caring about getting blood on his hands.

But he finds nothing. Not a scratch. Chica looks at Mark blithely, tongue hanging out of her mouth, as though nothing is amiss at all. Mark finally looks at what she’s holding in her paws: A bone, rather like the rawhide ones he’s given her in the past, long and already pocked with Chica’s teeth marks on one end. Mark has never seen it before. Is that how the intruder got Chica to stop barking?

“No, no, you can’t have that, you don’t know where it’s been,” Mark says as he pulls the bone from between her paws. He chucks the bone in the trash and washes his hands, getting the blood from Chica’s fur off them. It occurs to him that if Chica is fine, then the blood wasn’t hers. Did Chica bite the intruder? He looks back at her. There’s a bit of red in her teeth and lips, but most of it is around her neck and on her back. It doesn’t add up, not to mention he’s never known Chica to bite before. He finishes washing his hands, drying them off on a dish towel before walking back to her.

“What the hell happened?” he asks, exhaling. The fear is wearing off, leaving Mark exhausted, not to mention confused. He peers at Chica as if he’s expecting her to answer him. In a way, she does, because it’s then that Mark sees something white at Chica’s neck, near the blood. Paper? He takes it, avoiding the blood (he’s wary of it now that he’s no longer worried for Chica), and finds a note tied on a string around Chica’s neck. It’s loose enough for him to simply tug over her head, and he does, looking at the bloodstained string and paper note now in his hands. He unfolds the note and finds a message written in black ink, letters scraggly, splotches of scribbled ink covering errors. He reads it:

Mark,

If Yami taught me anything, it’s how to take revenge. I already know I can’t kill you: Without you, the channel dies and so do the others. But I can make you wish you were dead.

You can see I left a present for Chica, and I left one for you, too. Check your doorstep.

Sayonara,

Yandereplier

Oh.

Oh no.

Mark thinks of the bone he took from Chica, the bone sitting in his kitchen trashcan, and feels sick.

He supposes he has no choice. He gets up on suddenly shaky legs and moves to the front door, letting the note fall out of his hand and flutter to the ground. Chica follows suit, padding after Mark nonchalantly. When he reaches the front door, he takes a deep breath, then grabs the doorknob and turns it before he can change his mind.

On the doorstep, partly covering the welcome mat, is a cardboard box. Chica sniffs it intently, but Mark pushes her away from it, ushering her back inside. He closes the door behind him, making sure not to lock himself out. He turns back to the box, and right as he does, takes in a breath through his nose. He reels, gags, almost pukes from the awful smell he catches coming from the box. He starts to tremble, as afraid as he was when Yandere was in his house, maybe more. He takes in a shuddering breath through his mouth, exhaling in a nervous sigh. He thinks again of that bone, and of the blood in Chica’s fur. He closes his eyes, willing the bile in his throat to settle back into his stomach. But Mark knows he can’t stand out her forever. For better or worse, he has to open that box. He bends down, takes the cardboard flaps, and pulls the box open.

Mark screams.

Resting inside the box is Amy’s severed head.

Her once-pretty face is frozen in an expression of horror and agony. Her once-beautiful brown eyes are wide open and glassy. Her mouth is twisted in a grimace. Her dark hair is splayed around her head. The ragged stump of her neck is just barely visible. Blood coats the bottom of the box, reaching out in a pool from her neck, staining parts of her deadly pale skin, slicking up the ends of her hair, stinking up the air.

Mark wails, howling with grief and fighting the urge to vomit, kneeling and sobbing on his doorstep as Chica whines from behind the front door.

The egos don’t find out until hours have passed, and Mark is still a wreck when he thinks to call Ego Inc.’s landline, screaming into the phone as soon as Google picks up. He’s so distraught he’s incomprehensible, and Google has to get Dr. Iplier to calm him over the phone, to get him to breathe and explain himself. Once he does, Google and Dr. Iplier can’t hide the horror they feel.

“Google, do you know when Yandere came back?” Dr. Iplier asks, voice wavering.

“Four hours and seventeen minutes ago,” Google answers, eyes wide as he forces out his typical monotone, “He was covered in blood, but that’s typical for him, I didn’t think anything of it…”

“We have to find him, make sure he’s still here,” Dr. Iplier says, beginning to pace, “Now that he’s done this there’s nothing he won’t do, the rest of Mark’s friends could be in danger.”

“I have sent out an alert to my brothers,” Google says, “They can put out an announcement and tell the others.”

Dr. Iplier nods before leaving to search for Yandere, Google going in a different direction to do the same.

Before long, the doctor runs into Chrome, looking around the building with a deeply worried expression, and they both run into Wilford, stumbling through the halls much more leisurely.

“He’s fine, of course he’s fine,” Wilford laughs, “He has to fine.”

Dr. Iplier and Chrome say nothing.

The three head to Yandere’s bedroom. If Yandere is there, then there’s no one else but then who he’d allow inside. But when they reach the door, they find a piece of paper taped there. The message is messy, blobs of ink covering unreadable, half-formed kanjis. The only parts readable are in romaji:

Watakushi wa kare nashi de wa ikiraremasen.

Suggoku gomen ne.

-Yan

Chrome’s eyes flash as he translates the words. His expression twists with pain, but before Dr. Iplier can ask what the message means, Chrome is breaking down the door.

They’re too late. Yandere lays on the ground, facing away from the door, curled around his katana and surrounded by a pool of blood.

Chrome curses, punches a hole into the wall. Dr. Iplier crumples where he stands. Wilford’s eyes widen even as he grins a tight-mouthed grin.

“We’re figments,” Wilford laughs, “He’ll be fine.”

“Wil…” Dr. Iplier manages as he begins to cry.

“He can’t be dead, he’s just…” Wilford takes a breath in, still grinning with shining eyes, “He’s pulling one over on us. Just like Dark. Ol’ Darky was too stubborn to admit it, but Yan is…Yan’s just pulling a prank. A joke. It’s a joke.” He barks out a laugh that sounds more like a sob. “It’s a joke. He’ll come back. He’s fine.”

“Wil, h-he’s not like you,” Dr. Iplier says, voice shaky and quiet, “He’s n-not popular like y-you are, and he…” He shudders. “He w-wanted to die, and putting th-those together…he w-won’t…”

“C’mon, Doc, he…” Wilford starts, grin faltering as his mind tries to make sense of the doctor’s words. “Chrome?” He turns to the android to back him up, but Chrome is facing the wall where he punched it, shoulders shaking. “No, that’s not right…Yan…” He stumbles forward and kneels next to Yandere, practically falling, cold blood sinking into the knees of his pants. “Yan, quit fooling around. Dark already made this joke, it’s not as funny the second time…” He swallows thickly as Yandere remains still. “Yan, kid, you can’t…you…” He grins again, more forced this time, as tears roll down his face. “Dark’s gone already, you wouldn’t leave me alone, would you? You wouldn’t leave your onii-san, right? Yan, c’mon, I know you, you wouldn’t…” His mouth turns down suddenly as he finds awful clarity in the fog of mania. “Yan, kid, otouto, please don’t leave me alone…”

Before long Wilford breaks down, crying along with Chrome and Dr. Iplier, and there they remain until the other egos find them.

Later, Chrome will destroy everything in his room and scream until his voice processor gives out, trying to purge the grief from his circuitry.

Tomorrow, Wilford will be pulled away from Yandere’s body, sobbing and laughing but letting himself be dragged out of Yandere’s bedroom.

Forever, Dr. Iplier will have regret eating him from the inside, making him wish he could’ve prevented this, all of this, making him wish he could go back to before that damn video and stop all this misery and death before it happened.

But for now, the Host sits in his library, shudders, and sighs.

“Sadistic, aren’t you?” he says to no one, voice cold and bitter. “The Host hopes you’re happy.”

> TRY AGAIN?

#markiplier fanfiction #yandereplier #darkiplier #wilford warfstache #fanfic #kristin says stuff #my writing #i'd say i'm sorry but i'm not #i live for angst asdfghjkl

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blazingtheway · 3 years

Text

Failure – Storyline 3 – Together

= Embry Call = It had been one of those days… a day full of simple tasks, which weighed heavily on your mind. I released the trigger on the electric screwdriver after it secured the final handrail to the bathroom wall, the noise of it and the drill had been wearing on my already frayed nerves. I gave a gentle tug on the bar, I’d already had to fill holes and re-install the bar next to the toilet when I pulled too hard to test it and almost yanked it out of the wall; this one was firmly fixed. “Geriatric chic!” I heard my mother say in a tone both grateful and disappointed. Grateful that I’d done it, and disappointed that she now needed the assistance of handrails to use the bathroom and bathe. “It’s not all bad.” I try to smile as genuinely as possible. “At least they’re shiny.” I joke more convincingly, tapping one of the chrome bars. She gave a compulsory laugh and squeezed my wrist. “Thank you. “ “We’ll redecorate when you’re better,” I promised. “Oh, Embry…” Her bottom lip trembled and her eyes suddenly threatened tears but I refused to let the stabbing sensation in my gut change my expression. “Come on.” I led her from the bathroom, thankful all of a sudden it was a single-story house and I didn’t need to worry about her home alone climbing stairs. “You should be relaxing after your treatment.” She settled onto the couch with her favourite throw and I brought her some juice, my eyes resting on the very familiar and completely useless pamphlets from the hospital on kidney failure, dialysis and transplants, that sat on the coffee table. It was something so unexpected, no one talks about this stuff happening to people that enjoy a few drinks on the weekend every so often. There were no pamphlets on what to do when the only family in the world the patient has isn’t a match because he inherited his absentee father’s blood type, just another thing to hate him for. Not that it would make a difference, it’s not like I could go into hospital and let them cut me open, only to have them watch the incision start to heal in seconds. Hell, I’d have probably set off alarm bells if they so much as drew blood. That complication was avoided because my blood type was already on record. But there was still an extra layer of lingering hatred for something that wouldn’t have been any different if he stayed and raised me alongside my mother, or even appeared once or twice a week when I was young. I cleared up the bathroom and the tools that were once Harry Clearwater’s, and left them in the hallway, to return to Sue’s tool shed before I headed home. I had offered my services as a handyman as repayment of the favour and of course, was told I’d do no such thing, I was just to take care of Mom. Sue was one of the most kind-hearted people you’d ever meet, it was not a coincidence that she raised a kid like Seth, and she probably spent more time with my mother than I did lately. When I came back mom was sitting on the couch with her knees pulled up under the throw, she was pale and her skin had a slight sheen like she might be feverish, but I resisted the urge to place my hand to her forehead, she hated being treated like a child or an invalid. “Will you play it for me?” she asked, pulling her best puppy dog eyes at me and I laughed. She clearly wasn’t feeling too bad if her sense of humour was intact. “Why don’t you play it for me for once?” I tease, glancing at the upright piano wedged into the corner in the living room which was far too small to house it alongside the basic essentials of a living room. But it was her fathers and she would never give it up, it was the piano she taught me to play on. She sank into a slumped semi-lying-down position. “I’m resting.” She pouted. I shook my head but smiled. “Fine, but next time it’s your turn.” I knew exactly what she meant by ‘it’, it was always the same. Beethoven’s Silence. I never understood why she liked it; I always thought it was a little depressing. But she always smiled when she heard it or played it. So I took my seat and played, I knew it by heart but not well enough to

glance over my shoulder as I moved my fingers over the worn keys to see the familiar look on her face. Normally she’d stand with her elbow propped on the fireplace and watch me, but she didn’t move today and it sent more needles into my stomach, but I played on. ( Music -Beethoven's Silence (Concerto) - Ernesto Cortazar )

youtube

= Leah = The Morning: “Ma, is everything ok?” My eyes barely open as I look at the screen of my cell. Her face and number flashing brightly in my dark bedroom. For once after a night of patrol, I remembered to close my curtains which meant I managed to get some sleep in. Turning around in the bed, I fell back flat into my pillow putting the call on speaker and resting the cell on my chest. My eyes closed once again as I wait to hear my mother’s voice. “LeaLea, baby I need your help!” Her voice sounded off, she sounded upset and this made me sit up right, banging my head on the lamp I’m moved while reading before I fell asleep. I didn’t know what it was, but if my mom needed help and this was a SOS there was not a thing in this world that would stop me from running over to hers. “Ma? What is it? What happened?” I’d jumped out of my bed and started looking around for my jeans and a tee to throw on, my cell in my hands waiting from her to tell me why she needed my help. “Baby I’m not feeling well, it’s nothing big. But I’m meant to be going to see Tiffany Call today with some food for her. She’s come back from hospital after her treatment, so it would be dangerous for her if I went.” She was rambling now, it’s what she did when she felt as if she needed to talk me into doing something for her. I stop searching for clothes and sit back down on the bed. Resting my head in my free hand and breathing deeply. Not because of my mom maybe asking me to do. But because this wasn’t the way to start off a conversation with your daughter who’d been out working all night. “So,” she continued. “Seth is on his way to you. I have told him to pick up the things from the store Tiffany needs, and he will have the meals I’ve cooked. And Some books too. She needs some new books to read. Could you go over for me? Spend some time with her? Seth said he would cover your shift at the Bar too.” Yeah this was my mother the Tribe Elder, she had all the answers. “Sure Ma, when do I have to go over?” The question wasn’t even out when there was a knock on the door followed by my brother Seth’s voice calling my name. “I am guessing the answer is now huh?” She tells me I’m the best daughter she has. And I had to remind her I was the ( only ) daughter she had. But the truth was, my mom had done me a favour. I’d been meaning to go by and see Embry’s mom for a week or so. Now: I stood in front of a house I’d known all my life. I’d never been close to the Calls; Hell, I could count on one hand how many times I’d stepped foot into this house before Ms. Call had fallen sick. But now it was different, she was the mother of Embry sure. But she was also a close friend of my mom’s. In the past I’d driven my mom over a number of times to check on Ms. Call, or to deliver things over to her too. “Let yourself in she says. I mean come on. What if She has a dude calling on her?” I mumble to myself smiling a little. It was my way to distract from the fact that I hadn’t seen her in weeks now. And I should have known better and come sooner. Taking out the spare key Seth had handed me; I balanced the box and bags on one arm opening the front door with the other. I’d heard the sound of music walking up the path to the house, but it wasn’t until I’d opened the door did, I realised it was live. Someone was playing the piano which sat taking over the living room of the house. I knew from before that Ms Call played, and she was good. But I didn’t know she was this good. Closing the door behind me quietly I didn’t dare make a sound so not to disturb her. Putting the key, the box and bags down on the side table in the hallway I slowly moved myself into the doorway of the living room. Shocked when I saw Ms. Call sat on the couch under a throw. Her eyes open and she was about to say something, but I place my index finger on my lips as to say ( shh ). She smiled at me before her eyes move lovingly back towards her son. And I stood there, for the first time in my life speechless, leaning on the doorway shocked to hear Embry playing so beautifully. This was new to me,

something I never knew about him at all. = Embry Call = As I played, I remembered my mom teaching me, sitting on the piano bench next to me. It was after I mastered this piece that she insisted I take “real lessons”. I smiled at the memory, that year I asked for a guitar for my birthday so I could teach myself and tell the guys that’s what I was doing in Forks every Wednesday after school. I used to think of it as a chore after a few weeks, but after I phased, I’d had no time for the lessons, and missed them. But I kept playing, I hadn’t learned anything new in years, but when mom and I would fight… or at least when she’s screamed at me for being gone all night, or skipping school, (Sam wasn’t big on us missing school but when the Volturi thing went down we had no choice) I would wait until she was busying herself with some chore or another to cool off and pick something at random to play. It was manipulative… sure. But I couldn’t tell her the truth and even after Sam was convinced that I should let I do think it was my secret to tell. So, I’d play, as an apology, as a way of silently communicating that I cared. It was too late now, after all these years I couldn’t let her know I’d been lying to her, and what good would it do now. She had enough to deal with. Muscle memory took over and I closed my eyes, opening them every few bars just to make sure I didn’t mess up. This piece always made me a little sad, but at the same time I knew it made her happy, so there were always mixed emotions. When I finished, I set there for a few seconds, it had been... God… at least four months since I’d sat here playing. Mom’s absence by the fireside was palpable, and I didn’t dare turn around until I was certain it couldn’t be seen on my face. “Fuck!” I started, when I turned and caught sight of her, feeling suddenly exposed. “Jesus! Clearwater, make a noise!” My mother glared, I muttered something that sounded like sorry, rubbing the back of my neck. “How long have you been there?” Her casual lean against the door frame told me ‘too long’. I’d played my guitar around the pack on several occasions. At the council meetings when the legends were told to new pups; there was always one past around to the willing afterwards, while we ate and tried to help the newbies realise that the pack wasn’t all hard work, it was a brotherhood. But this was different, the songs I played on the guitar were one people knew, the stuff I played on the piano was old… and probably something I’d never live down with the pack. But was also something that I just didn’t think about around them, not on purpose, but it just wasn’t a topic that came up. So, it was mine, one of the few things in my life that were unshared. I was pretty sure I could count on one hand the people I had played in front of... including Leah. = Leah = Standing still, I allow the music to wash over me. There was something about the way the sound of the piano, it was magical really. I didn’t play any Instruments so had always been fascinated by those who could. But the piano was always one of those things I really loved listening to. During the battle of the Volturi is spent so many nights listening to Edward playing for himself, for his mom their Esme and for Bella. None of them knowing that I sat in my wolf form outside listening too. It used to help me, for the moments he spent playing it would calm the anger within me. Giving me time where I stopped thinking. Where only the music washed over me. But now, hearing this piece being played wasn’t about the past, or about the battle, or even about the Cullen's. It was about the man playing it the way he sat on the piano bench, his shoulders slumped a little. The way he was lost in his own mind and his head moved slowly in time with the keys. His fingers hitting each note, to make the perfect sound and the tune come alive around us all in the room. Towards the end it made me feel as if I was intruding on a private moment. As if I had no right to be here, to hear him play in such away. And yet I couldn’t break myself away from

it too. I knew the piece so well, it was by Beethoven, but I couldn’t recall the name of it. For years it had been on replay for me on my iPod. It was the music I would listen to keep myself and my anger in check. But it’s been so long since I needed it. And yet it felt so new at the same time. A memory of something Edward had once said coming back to me. “No piece is ever played in the same way. To the untrained ear they may sound the same. However, each musician leaves their own mark in some subtle way.” I hadn’t realised I’d been smiling just as Ms. Call had been listening and watching him play until the piece came to an end and he stopped. Still lost in his thoughts just as I had been until he spoke. His face shocked at seeing me stood there. And a part of me knew my first instinct was correct. I had been intruding. Clearing my throat, I stood up straight. My face clear of any explanation others than a small smile for his mother. I winked at her walking across the small room towards her. “Do you kiss your mother with that same mouth Call?” I teased him. “And long enough to hear you play.” Leaning down I place a small kiss on her forehead and felt her skin was cold and clammy. She had a fever. “Ma isn’t feeling too great today, so you are stuck with me I’m afraid. She’s sent over some of the things you needed from the store, picking up your meds and some meals to keep you going too. But if I knew you were being tortured in such a way. I’d have come over earlier!” Looking over to him now as I spoke to his mother. ”What a way to keep you awake Ms.C? Want me to call the police on him for you? Or I could take him outside and kick his arse if you rather?” I saw the uneasiness he was feeling, by my being here. I couldn’t just turn and leave, but I was hoping that by my not changing how I treated him, it may reassure him a little. “It’s so nice to see you Leah dear. You know. You are a grown woman now Leah. You can call me Tiffany.” She said, as she did every time I’d see her. But it never felt right to me, my calling her Ms.C was a sign of respect. Respect I gave every mom. Taking my hand, gesturing for me to sit beside her. And as I do she keeps talking. Asking about my mom’s health, before she moves to talk about her son again. I gave her my full attention, and yet I still watch Embry out of the side of my eyes too. Feeling her shiver a little, I moved into her closer without making it obvious. Knowing the heat from my body would help warm her. I was aware Embry had made the choice not to share our secrets with his mother. And so she didn’t know why I was always so warm. Just that when she hugged me, it relaxed her a little. And without thinking she always would turn into me wrapping her arm around mine squeezing it softly. ”Doesn’t he play like an angel, so perfectly?” She was proud of her son, as she should be. I look away from her face towards Embry still sat on the piano bench facing us. “Yes Ms.C, he really does. And he’s kept it to a small audience all these years, I see too.” She tells me how she would teach him at home, and then how he would take lessons in Forks. It made me smile to learn something so new about someone I thought I knew, and yet there was so much coming to light now that I was allowing myself to really look. = Embry Call = I can’t help but smile when I watch her with my mother, joking… making her laugh; even if it was at my expense. I wasn’t sure when Leah had seen her last, but I knew that Mom looked a lot weaker today than usual, she always did after a session. Leah hid her concern well; this wasn’t surprising though, she always put everyone else first, her family, the pack… always. I notice Leah move a little closer when mom shivered. I flush a little when she agrees with my mother’s assessment of my playing; I was used to it from Mom and my grandfather before he passed. Hearing it from someone who I knew wouldn’t think twice about saying what she really thought was… bizarre. I shake my head at her teasing. “Stage fright.” I shrug, still smiling. “Besides you’ve all heard me

play the guitar. This thing isn’t very portable.” I jab my thumb towards the piano. I spotted the bags on the hallway table and turned to them again. “I’ll go put this stuff away, you two catch up.” I picked up the bags and brought them to the kitchen, setting them on top of the small stack of overdue and new bills, just so I didn’t have to look at them. The thick brown envelope with a law firm as the return address was still jutting out from beneath the bags, it was addressed to mom and already opened but I didn’t dare look inside. I’d been reading a lot of my mother’s mail lately because I had no choice. But this one screamed ‘you don’t want to know’. I put away the food and tucked the books under my arm to bring back the living room where my mother could reach them at her leisure. When I returned, I found them still sat on the couch and handed Leah a can of coke and mom a glass of water. I mouthed a silent thanks to my Beta for restocking the cupboards and fridge… I wouldn’t have had a chance today and my shift was starting in a few hours. I flopped into the armchair across the room. “What did I miss? Is she talking your ear off, Leah?” I ask, waggling an eyebrow at my bemused mother. = Leah = Ms. C whispers when Embry leaves her room. “He was such a cute little boy. His hair had been shorter, I’m not sure I like it this long.” I couldn’t help but laugh a full-hearted laugh. I didn’t do that very often at all. But listening to her talk was no different to listening to my own mom. When it came to mums and sons, it seemed like the same things bugged them all around. “Cute? Embry Call?” I exclaimed “I don’t believe you Ms.C, have you seen your son? He is hard work! She points me over to the table beside the couch where we sat. “If you move those top books Leah you will see a small blue Photo album.” She gestures for me to get it for her, and I do and place it on my lap and open the first could of pages up for her. Turning the album to face her and to keep it in my sight. I see old photos of her, Embry and his grandfather. Smiling and happy. It reminded me of the first time I met Ms. C. I remember looking up and this beautiful woman, she had long dark flowing hair, chestnut eyes with skin that glowed. She reminded me a long of my own mom. Not just in their looks but in their mannerisms too. I looked over to her now and saw her hand moving up to her head, covered with a scarf and I lent in and kissed her forehead. “Ms.C. You and my mom, are the most beautiful women on this Rez. And that will never change.” she places the Palm of her hand on my cheek, and I see her eyes glisten. “None of that, we are talking about embarrassing your son here, now show me something good woman!” I hold up the album and she turned the page that was like a goldmine. I couldn’t believe what my eyes were seeing. “Ms.C! Why is this the first time I am seeing this?” I exclaim, and then lower my voice hearing Embry coming back. Leaning forward I covered the page with my arms so he couldn’t see what I had in my hands. Taking the can from him I winked up at him. He didn’t need to thank me. I’d not come here as his Beta. I had come. Well. Because I wanted to be here. I liked spending time with his mom. “Hush up, your mom is much better at the art of conversation then you are Call.” And I could help it now. Picking the album up I turn it towards him on sat the armchair. “And she shares the best blackmail material I could ask for. I mean. Who knew you were once so cute in your ( birthday suit )?” It was a photo of a very young Embry Call, running in the yard with not a stitch of clothing on. Waggling my brows at him I pucker my lips. “So Cute!” Tilting my head into Ms.C as the two of us laugh together watching Embry. = Embry Call = “Mom!!” I shook my head, I grinned but my cheeks burned regardless. This was what mothers did, I took a mouthful from the can and glared at my mother in faux outrage. “Such a stereotype!” Watching the two of them laugh I shook my head. “I think I might be overdue a visit to Sue to search though your deep,

dark secrets, Leah.” My face still feeling hotter than normal. “Now that I think about it isn’t there a school picture of you in the hall where you’re missing both front teeth?” Mom stifled a laugh with her hand. “Don’t tease, Embry.” She was trying not to smile too much. “She started it.” The words were out before I could catch them, and I took a drink just so I didn’t have to look at them. “Is it any wonder he can’t find a girlfriend?” My mother addressed Leah. “Talking like he’s still in school.” I choked on the mouthful of coke. Every time there was anyone in the house she brought this up, this or grandbabies. Sometimes one and then the other. “If I wanted a girlfriend I'd have one, Mom.” Was all I said, my eyes flicking to Leah, I flashed back to our night in the club, both of us leaving with complete strangers. I wondered briefly if her mom was the same about Leah's perpetual single status... That was another thing moms did, wasn’t it? Mom thought I was lonely, but company was something I never lacked, between a head full of voices and a steady supply of women from the club I was perfectly content with my social life. “You’ll never meet a nice girl in that place.” Mom wrinkled her nose at the reference to the club. I just looked at my feet, there was nothing I could say that would stop her till she got the final word. = Leah = “We all know he is only ten years old mentally Ms. C” I teased; it wasn’t that I wanted to add to the embarrassment We could clearly see on his face. And by his poor slap back we could most definitely tell he didn’t know what to do with his mom and I ganging up together like this. But it was worth it. To see his mom laughing and joking and smiling. I didn’t care if she giggled or laughed at my expense, it was just really good to see her and hear her doing it at all. “Even with my teeth missing, I was better looking than you.” Turning the page to the photo of him at some Halloween party dressed like Batman. If only we knew back then we’d have a life time ( costume ) built within us in the future. “And you stay well away from my mom.” Narrowing my eyes a little at him. Making a mental note to go remove that stupid photo mom has up in the hallway down. Why did she do that? At least Ms.C had Embry’s baby pictures in a closed book. Grabbing a cushion from behind me, lobbing it hard at him head, smirking when it hit him square in the face. And then snapping my teeth at him for good measure. “The teeth are back Call, and they are sharper too. Want to try me?” With a small smirk I leant towards the side table. Picking the cold can of coke up if been giving by Embry. Before cracking it open and taking a mouthful. Her next words making my Choke. The moment I heard Ms.C saying about Embry not having a girlfriend. I didn’t know what to do with that. My eyes caught his for a brief moment, before I looked back to his mom who was talking to me as if I had some say in the matter. What was it with moms? I was sure my mom thought I maybe a lesbian because she never saw the men I brought home. And no matter how much she asked me I’d just brushed her off. To the point I remember her putting up a pride flag last year. I was proud of my mom for being so open minded. But fuck. If she saw or learnt about half the crap I got up to. Taking another sip from the can to busy my mouth from having to talk. I wasn’t about to tell her about his steady stream of one- nighters. Not that I judged him for it. Was I any different to him? Nope! I look at the can in my hands, taking another mouthful from it. Listening to the way Ms.C talks moved on about wanting him to think of marriage and kids. And I about choke again, just saving myself in time. This time I made the mistake of looking at her, and she was looking towards me to.. ( back her up )? “Uhm.” I say giving myself time to think. “Maybe,” clearing my throat. “I mean. Is this world and our Rez ready to handle little versions of your son Ms. C? ” shaking my head looking back towards Embry. And I thought ( oh hell go for it. He’d not let me off the hook,

if it was the other way around. ) “Yes, I really think they are ready for it.” Resting my hand on my lap, and my chin on top of it. Waiting for his next move. = Embry Call = I kept telling myself it could be worse. She could be trying to tell Leah how ‘cute’ we would be together like she did with the support nurse a local volunteer program sent to us twice a week to help out. The poor girl was mortified, I didn’t know if it was my total lack of interest, or my mother’s word that made her face burn red. I glared at Leah… for jumping on the kid thing! Me, a parent? I couldn’t even fathom it. “We already established I don’t even have a girlfriend!” I laughed, but deep down I was squirming. “Where are these kids gonna come from? The world will be waiting a long time for me to reproduce.” I slumped back into the armchair and tried to laugh it off again, but the second I spotted Mom’s face I knew I’d said the wrong thing. Her smile was half-hearted now. But with Leah sat next to her I couldn’t think of what to say. I glanced at the clock and sighed, saved by the proverbial bell. “I better go soon or I’ll be late for work.” I said, hauling myself to my feet and I kissed the top of my mother’s head. “I’ll make you a sandwich before I go.” I headed to the kitchen. I stood there leaning on the counter for a few moments, feeling like an idiot. Mom was enjoying herself and, of course, my inability to think before I spoke brought it crashing down in a second. With a heavy sigh I pulled the fridge open and set to making her some food. = Leah = It wasn’t hard to feel the change in the room. My hand moved over taking Ms.C’s hand and squeezing it softly. “I told you, he is a handful.” Winking at her, pushing the blanket up a little before I stood up. “And you know, I’m not that easy going too. He is only joking with us.” She half smiled, nodding her head before resting it back into the couch. “Looks like we’ve tired you out huh? Rest, I best go see what he is putting in that sandwich of yours.” Letting her rest for a little, I pick up her empty glass and the two empty cans from around the living room, before making my way through the house and into the kitchen. Stopping by the door, I watch for a moment seeing Embry at work. “You don’t have to take it out on the bread you know. Just because your pissed at me.” Walking around him to the sink, putting the glass in there before placing the cans in the bin. “She knows you didn’t mean it Em. And I’m sorry, it was only meant to be a joke.” Leaning on the counter next to him. And watching him. I never was good at this apologising thing. I’d never really cared for it. But a part of ( growing up ) was making sure you took ownership, right? But more so, I’d never meant to upset him. My eyes moved down to the counter seeing the stack of mail sitting there. A small frown on my face seeing the top brow envelope looking ( official ), and the others below it looks like bills, some with the overdue red writing showing. All with the address stamp of the hospital showing on them. “Embry.” I start to say but stop. Did I have the right to ask him? We weren’t close, but over the last few days and week. Well. Things has changed slightly right? What was the worst that would happen? He’d tell me to mind my own business, which was his right. “Em, what’s going on here?” Leaning across the counter to pull the envelopes closer to us. But I wouldn’t never open them or look in them out of respect for him and his mom. = Embry Call = I laughed darkly and glanced over at Leah. “That’s not…” I pinched the bridge of my nose for a second; I exhale as much tension as I can, heavily. “I can handle a little teasing. I keep putting my foot in it with Mom. I upset her earlier… then that.” I jabbed the fork towards the door and started again on making a less mutilated sandwich. I was so fucking tired, since phasing I didn’t think it was possible for me to feel this lousy. “You’ve nothing to apologise for.” I gave her a genuine smile. “She’s just happy you’re here.” The smile was short lived though, when she

slid the pile of mail across the counter closer to us. I slipped one from under her hand and pulled the bill out of the envelope as leaned make against the counter. There was no point in trying to hide it anymore, I was too tired, I knew Sue was supposed to be coming over and I hadn’t stuffed them into the drawer like I normally did. Subconsciously I knew why I did it. I couldn’t handle it all; Mom was convinced she wasn’t going to survive this. The tiny fucking beeper in my pocket was the heaviest thing I’d ever carried in my life. But it was Leah that showed up today not Sue. “This…“ The dark chuckle returned. “Is how much dialysis costs… after insurance.” I handed her the piece of paper and I licked the mayonnaise off the knife in my hand before I dropped it into the sink. “And the rest… apparently her policy wasn’t as comprehensive as advertised. Then there’s the meds…” I shook my head. Not saying anything about the mortgage and bills since mom couldn’t work. Those were all paid up to date; I couldn’t risk the house or having the light shut off when mom was home alone. “I have no idea what I’m doing…” I crossed my arms over my chest and let my shoulders slump a little. They say when you finally share your burdens with someone you feel lighter, like a weight was lifted. It was true… but, nowhere near as relieving as it said to be. Still… it eased the throbbing in my skull that hadn’t gone away in days. I wondered if this underwhelming feeling of relief was what Leah felt when she finally told me her secret. = Leah = My hips resting against the countertop, I stood facing him. Crossing my arms over my chest and all signed of joking had disappeared from my face. There was a time and a place, and this was not it. Listening to every word and seeing every emotion playing over his face. My stomach twisted and I felt like the air had been knocked out of me. How could he be in this much pain and I’d missed it? How didn’t I see past the smile and the cocky one liners he always had on the ready? The small voice in my head whispers “you aren’t the only one who can wear a mask by the looks of it.” For me, this was another example or where we were failing one of our own. How had none of us picked up on it? How would I have not seen it all? Hell. I would visit here, I saw the change in his mom. I saw how weak she was today. I wanted to take the fork from his hand, it felt like he would end up stabbing himself with it if he didn’t put it down. But it was his words more than his actions which held my attention right now. He looked shattered and drained, it wasn’t the Embry everyone always saw. “Okay. Let’s look at this all one thing at a time shall we?” I say looking at him, my hand moving Over his to stop him from doing what he was doing. “First of all, there is Nothing. And I mean Nothing you could say that would hurt your mom. Will she get upset with you? Sure. You know better than me Em.. She is going through a lot. But despite it all, whenever I come to see her, all she does is talk about you. Saying how proud she is of you. And we can all see just how much she loves you. A couple of comments or jokes gone badly. Those won’t mean a thing in five minutes or an hour.” Leaning over a little now, making sure he was really listening to me. “She will cry, she will be emotional at things you or, or l, or anyone says to her. It’s normal. But as long as you are there to say ( I’m sorry ) or ( I love you ) it’s all that will matter at the end of the day. You do understand, that right? I squeezed his arm before turning my attention to the bill he opened and read it from top to bottom. Then moving to open the others with his approval to do so. Putting them down on the counter one by one, looking over the amounts due for payments and when by. My eyes would have popped out of my head if I didn’t hide my feelings and emotions as well as I did. “I never knew the insurance didn’t cover so much.” Saying it out aloud more for myself than for him. Biting the inside of my cheeks, it helped me to think. My mind working on the figures,

slowly forming a plan in my mind. I needed to check on a couple of things but it could work. Without looking up at him I pushed the brown envelope with the law firm name on it towards him. “If we are looking at all these.” My fingers moving over the bills. “You may as well tell me what is happening here too?” Seeing him this way I couldn’t help but wonder how long he had been holding it all together this way. And wishing that I had been more open towards him. If I hadn’t been so selfish and closing myself off to my pack, maybe I would have seen this all weeks or months ago. = Embry Call = Her words washed over me and I was actually feeling slightly better. Maybe the “weight of the world” theory was right… but it took longer to take effect. I felt her hand on my forearm and it was the strangest thing… because it wasn’t strange at all. It was Leah, being comforting… and it was working. Then there it was, the release; it only lasted a few moments but it was exactly like she had just picked up the ton weight sitting on my chest. The brief unburdening was glorious. Then she was sliding /that one/ towards me, I knew what was in there. My mother never left anything to chance, but I couldn’t face it. I shook my head. “I – I can’t.” I took a step away from the counter as if the envelope was filled with anthrax. Another step and I was close enough to sit at the kitchen table. “I haven’t… Eh.” I was stumbling for words. “I haven’t looked in there yet, it came three days ago.” I propped my elbows on the table and laced my fingers together in front of me. “I’m pretty sure it’s her will.” I looked up at her, I was glad I’d sat down because I felt a tremor travel down my spine. “You can… “ I said with a nod not finishing the thought. At least now I would know, the fucking thing was like Schrödinger's cat sitting there the last few days. The omnipresent present question of ‘is it or isn’t it?’ “I just couldn’t do it.” = Leah = For those of us who have lost someone close to them. We know the pain, the worry and the helplessness that comes with it. But to lose a mother or a father really rocks your world. The people who were meant to be by your side, to see your grow, to help you learn. When they are gone, it leaves a big whopping hole in your heart, mind and soul. I also knew from experience that if we can survive these moments. If we can make it through this otherwise dark times, there would be nothing, No grief, No pain, No loss that could hold us back and hit us as hard. Looking up at his words, I stood up straight now. Watching him without even blinking. I kind of got it, I understood why he said and felt the way he did. And I knew No matter what, there is nothing someone who’d not gone through it could do to help. There had to be something he found from within himself, but that didn’t mean he had to do it alone. It’s strength nobody in the world can understand unless you have stood in our shoes, lived to see a small beam of light from behind the darkness. And yet there is a difference here. One he can’t see from being in his darkness. But one I can see having been through my own. “Embry.” But I stopped myself. I didn’t and wouldn’t push him to do something he wasn’t ready to face. My eyes glancing down at that brown envelope, Tracing my fingers over Ms Cs name. Swallowing down I picked it up. My eyes for a brief moment looking towards the door and hallway, making sure she hadn’t woken up by our talking before I parted the open envelope and pulled out the folded sheets of paper. Glancing back over to him, I saw how he was scare in this moment. No child would want to be sat on the kitchen table, thinking about the things we were. Taking a deep breath as I unfolded the papers and read the first line in my head. “This is the last will and testament of Ms Tiffany Call.” And it hit me right in the middle of my chest. I felt my eyes burn a little, the lump in my throat growing. Pushing it all down. “This is Not about your feeling LEAH CLEARWATER. You deal with your shit later! This is about him.” Moving back away from

counter I stood beside him at the table. Looking from the papers in my hands to the man sat before me. I saw the reasoning behind his mom doing this. I saw the path she’s taken as I read the words to myself. “Embry,” my voice cracked a little. So, I stopped taking a second making sure my voice would be void of my own emotions right now. “This document. it’s your mom’s way of looking after you. She has put a plan together for herself, so you don’t have to. She has done what every mother wants to do, to protect her son from having to make choices.” She really had been thorough and meticulous in her planning. From hospital orders, to last day planning, to what she wanted down if and when she was gone. She had outlined her saving, also stating what his Grandfather had left for him too. But she had most of all made sure he wouldn’t need to make any decisions he wouldn’t be able to live with after she was gone. = Embry Call = So, there it was. The undeniable truth that my mother was preparing to die. Yes, I knew that it’s what anyone would do in her position. Perfectly healthy people updated their wills all the time; everything Mom was doing was normal and necessary. I pressed my clasped hands against my mouth. Leah’s words made perfect sense; I looked up at her where she stood next to the table. “Yeah.” My voice sounded strange, and I knew my next thought was selfish and childish. But it had been swimming around my head ever since that damn envelope arrived. “Or is she giving up?” I sighed heavily and reached into my pocket pulling out the tiny, hospital issue beeper and set it on the table. “That’s not even the worst of it. My whole existence is about keeping people safe… and now, I just wait for someone to die so that she…” I couldn’t finish the sentence; I dropped my head into my hands. “And not just someone. It has to be exactly the perfect person, with her blood type… and they need to die in a way the means they are a viable donor. They have to die in the right place, at the right time.” I couldn’t recognise my own voice anymore. I was being stupid, it was bad enough Mom and I had to deal with this. I had no right to plant these thoughts into Leah’s head now too. I’d been falling asleep imagining all the scenarios that could result in my mother’s survival, and every one of them made me hate myself even more. It conflicted with every fibre of my being. I didn’t have any illusions of grandeur, my job was security but I didn’t really protect people. But what I really was, a Spirit Warrior and descendent of the protectors of the tribe, that was my sole purpose. Keeping people safe was what I was built for, but now those ideals twisted with the selfish interests of keeping someone I loved alive at any cost. I sucked in a long breath and lifted my head again locking gazes with my Beta. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t be dumping this on you. Not now.” = Leah = Shaking my head slowly, my eyes burning a little, but I hold it back. “She isn’t giving up just because she’s thinking about these things Embry.” Holding out the papers in my hand. “It’s not one thing or the other. She will fight and keep fighting because that’s what our mothers do. We don’t give up on the people we love. And I know Your mom isn’t giving up on herself or on you. We won’t let her!” It wasn’t hard for me to be stood here beside him, but to hear the emotion and pain in his voice, that hit a place within me I didn’t think was possible. His words washed over me, nothing he said shocked and surprised me. I would be more worried if these thoughts hadn’t crossed his mind. Or he lied about thinking them. “None of this makes you a bad person, sure yeah. Our whole existence maybe about keeping others safe, to protect at the cost of our own life. But Embry, she is your mother. If I were in your place do you think I’d be any different? Do you think I’d not have imagined the sound of that beeper going off and me rushing my mom to the hospital? I’d be praying to whomever would listen for anything to save my mother’s life. So, stop this. Stop thinking so

little of yourself over something you know we all would do. Or. At least” I couldn’t hold back the snarl. “What everyone would expect of ( Leah Clearwater ) to do if the time came.” I wanted to place my arms around him, as I wished someone had done for me when I had been in this much pain years ago when my dad died. But I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t something anyone expected from the ( Bitch ) of the pack. I don’t even know if I have it in me anymore to feel. My job was to keep everyone in line. Showing emotions, having a ( heart ) that wasn’t ( Leah Clearwater ). That wasn’t the person they all wanted. His eyes locked onto mine, and I didn’t need to look hard to see what was going on in that head of his. I placed my hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently, hoping he knew I got it. I understood. “If not now, then when Embry? What kind of remark is that to make? I’m just sorry it’s taken me this long to see you. To ( really see you ) Embry Call.” = Embry Call = I knew she was right about everything, all of it made perfect sense. But like a child I just wanted to dig in my heels and refuse to accept it as truth. Something in me just wanted to give in to the dark and wallow in it. But that wouldn’t be easier, not for me… not for my mother. It’s just another kind of struggle, and I’d seen Mom go through that one when Grandad died. I knew the comforting gesture from the woman next me wasn’t something that was easy for her. When it came to her brother or her mom, sure… but not with the pack. She kept her distance for a reason. I reached across and laid my hand in top of hers where it rested on my shoulder, it would probably make her uncomfortable, but I wanted her to know I appreciated her being here right now. “You have everything with Jacob and Sam going on. And with the pups slacking off and everything... You’ve enough to deal with without adding my problems to the pile.” I laughed a little, feeling lighter now that all of those toxic thoughts were out in the world. If it had have been anyone other than Leah they wouldn’t have spilled out, it was bad enough some of the kids had heard snippets of those dark imagines when I couldn’t hold them back, but I knew this wouldn’t go any further. Still, the guilt that Leah had this burden now too made something inside me twist. = Leah = I didn’t know if I was helping, or if I was adding to his frustration. I could see there was a fight happening within him, and I could only hope the light would win. Unlike the path I’d once taken, letting the darkness win within myself for years, it did nobody any good. His hand resting over mine pulled me back from my internal thoughts and my first instinct was to pull away. But the whisper in my head told me not to. My closed off self was my downfall not his to deal with. I couldn’t offer up myself and then pull the rug out from under him. Squeezing his shoulder once more, before I took my hand back and pushed it into the back pocket of my jeans. “None of that should worry you Embry. How I deal with Jacob’s thing, or Sam, and even the pups. I have it in hand.” Taking in a small breath trying to keep my voice easy and level. “This here, you and Ms. C. I can be here too. As long as you need and want me. So, please. Don’t think you are adding to my pile, I’m an amazing multi-tasker don’t you know.” This time I allowed my lips to curl up on the edges. “Look, Embry. I came here. I asked you how you were. So, believe me when I say. You’re not adding to my problems.” He laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Telling me, he was a long way away from being okay. But then again what did I expect? How could any child be ( okay ) in this scenario? = Embry Call = Knowing what I did about Leah, it shouldn’t have shocked me when she said that she’d be there for me and my mother. But it did, I was more shocked that she had said it out loud than I was at her intentions; I knew Leah would always offer help if someone stepped up and asked for it. But to hear her say it… Leah Clearwater expressing a feeling, and not anger or annoyance… that was

new. “Thanks, Leah.” I smiled at her. I meant it, I appreciated it and a voice inside my head told me I’d be stupid to refuse any help. This was about Mom, not my pride or ego. I didn’t say much more out loud because it would just make us both uneasy. “All of this… I have no idea what I’m doing.” I indicated at the pile of paperwork. “The pack stuff; I can help with. So don’t bench me.” There was a hint of pleading in my eyes, but the only time I felt useful was on patrol. On my last few runs I had the kids well in check; I’d given the dutiful protector speech. Reminding them that; yes, fun can be had, but we have a job to do first. They were getting it, I was actually getting through to them. Some of them were a little slow on the uptake, digging in their heels at the “third in command” over stepping his bounds. But I didn’t push; I just talked to them about the legends and what we’d faced before most of them joined the ranks. I left it completely up to them to listen or not, most of them did. They just needed a reminder of the wolves really were. I raised my hand and pointed a finger at the window, towards the distant trees. “That… I can do. The wolf stuff I’m good at, I don’t feel so useless when I’m out there. It’s far from simple, but its natural… the rest of it, the real life shit. That’s the hard part.” = Leah = Listening as I stepped back away from him, I turned my attention back to the bills I’d spread out on the counter. Picking up the brown envelope I folded the Will back up and pushed it in. Placing it to the side. “Don’t worry, you know I’d never bench you. Well. No guarantees. If you start acting like a douche bag, I may reconsider.” Like a switch turned from on to off, my head was back on the impossible task of getting Ms. C and Embry out of trouble before it was too late. “You taking the time keep the pups in line, has been a great help Embry, but.” Looking over my shoulder back at him. “But, don’t keep pushing if you need to tap out. There’s no shame, and like I said. I’ll cover you.” Picking up the letters and pulling them into a pile. I fold them up and hold them in my hand. “Leave these with me. And if any new ones come in. You know where to find me.” Turning to face him, my eyes glance up at the clock. And I breathe in, rubbing my free hand over my face. “I should get going Embry. Seth’s covering my shift at the bar, but I want him to at least get part of the night off today. “And anyway, you were meant to be making Ms C a sandwich before she took her nap dude. Don’t forget that.” I half smirk at him before making my way down the hall, looking in to see his mom had really fallen asleep on the couch. So I didn’t disturb her, and continued to the front door. My eyes dropping to the ground, and I halted in place for a bet of the heart seeing my father’s toolbox sitting in the hall. A pang hit my chest, and I needed to get out before I let my mask slip any further. Clearing my throat opening the door. I called out softly. “I’ll see you around Call. Don’t work too hard.”

#LeahClearwater #Leah #HotHeadSheWolf #SpiritsHotHead #EmbryCall #Embry #BADBOYEMBRYCALL #Twilight #TwilightRP #TwiRP #AUStories #TiffanyCall #Youtube

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boltjacksonstories · 4 years

Text

The Thing in the Mountains

She walked by the river every day.

She was once asked what she would miss most about the earth once she was gone. Her response was unequivocally the rivers. She loved her old family, she’d miss her old friends, and maybe even shed a tear for her pets, old and new- but it was the rivers, she knew, that she would miss most.

And why shouldn’t she? Do you not see the beauty in the ceaseless pounding of endless water on a log? Do you not hear the music of a rushing current slowly eroding the stones of time? Do you not feel the chill awaken your bones as soon as your feet break the water? Break the flow. Become part of what has always been. Try and connect with what you’ll never be. She did. She did all of these things every chance that she got.

“Where only voices spring For speakers fear they fall To find the warmth of spring Still looking like the fall.”

That was her place, her spot. She wrote that poem for it, or rather, that poem came to her because of that spot. Her place was a boulder overlooking the river bend. Overlooking? About fifty yards overlooking. For speakers feared they fall. And that’s where she found her peace.

It was her piece of land. It was her slice of heaven. It was her domain and under her dominion and as long as she was there she knew it could never be taken away. Not from her. She was it’s mother.

Her nature was that of a quiet type. Her mousey face came with a voice to match. Quiet, unassuming, unwanting, contented. The material world was for Madonnas. The Madonnas of the world were for material. Her countenance never could find the comfort in that type of life. She preferred her long blond hair to lay out on a rock to rocking it back and forth at some show. She loved the quiet of nature.

She floated through her forest like a spirit. She was still bounded by the physical world, just not the material one. She still lived in the world as it is today, but she didn’t care much for it. No care for the world, but only for the earth.

She lived alone in a cabin that she built from the earth she loved so much. The roof over her head was more like a canopy. Her walls changed with the seasons and reflected what was available in the surrounding woods. Her door was always open though she never had any visitors. She had only one friend in the world to speak of: an eastern chipmunk with an agouti coat whom she had lovingly named Alvin.

Alvin was her only hold on to mammalian affections. He seemed to visit her every day, especially when prompted by the dried berries she’d leave on the windowsill. Windowsill. She only had a windowsill in the months that afforded one. When the weather would necessitate it, all windowsills were sealed up. Those were the days that Alvin would come inside, for the warmth and the shelter. She liked to pretend he liked her company.

This was the life she had chosen for herself. This was her unbeaten path to happiness. And every day that she could, she walked the whole thing.

She owned few books and even fewer mirrors as her only prized possessions. The books provided an escape. The blank books provided a means of expression. The mirrors provided some relief from the seriousness of her survival. Funhouse mirrors, made to bend and distort realities. The four she brought with her into the woods were from her grandmother, whom she had loved a very long time ago. For hours on end, she would sit in the dirt with a mirror directly in front of her. She may laugh, she may stare blankly, she may call upon the powers of her blank book and pencil to try and give the mirror’s image some permanence. Her favorite mirror was the one that elongated her face, her body, or whatever stood in front of it. It amused her because she had always been petite- she was born that way, seven pounds under weight. The miracle child, her grandmother had called her. How happy her mother would have been, she used to say, to have seen her make it.

And make it, she did. She lived her dream out here in the woods, what with her rivers and books and mirrors and freedom. She lived the dream of every wilderness princess she had imagined as a girl. And now she was a woman. It had been several weeks since she had last seen Alvin. This was not highly unusual, as he was a feral rodent. Still, his absence was disheartening. The season was as dry as the berries she left sitting in the windowsill, but still no Alvin. She imagined he had better things to do, perhaps even a family to attend to.

“Alvin, where have you been? The children have missed you terribly.”

“Oh hon, you know, I’ve been on a business trip. Hey there kiddos, look what I brought back for ya- dried berries.”

She imagined Alvin’s life in her hut was that of a double life; that she was the other woman he kept secret from his first love. So she understood why he couldn’t always come back and, in that same vein, anticipated his return. She was heading out to the trail for a leisurely walk when she noticed something strange with her favorite mirror. The image it reflected back looked exactly like her, not distorted at all.

Unperturbed, she moved forward with her day. Out the door. Down the winding trail. She had become so familiar with her trails that she could follow their twists and turns step for step in her mind. On stormy days when it was unsafe to go out she would close her eyes and just picture herself walking anyway. Turn for turn and twist for twist. She knew to conserve her energy around the first three bends that took her to a lower elevation, for what goes down must also come up. She knew where to stop and turn around to see the prettiest views. She knew where to step off the trail to touch her favorite tree- a skyscraping oak so wide that her hug couldn’t cover even half of it’s circumference. She knew exactly the points that marked a quarter, half, and three-quarters of the way. She saw things that no one else could have possibly seen on their first few walkthroughs. So imagine her surprise on that day when she saw, glimmering off in the distance, something else in her spot.

She was approaching her overlook on the river when she saw it about fifty yards off in the distance. She froze instantly with fear. She had never encountered anyone out here. Somehow, in her seven years in the woods, she had never encountered another soul. Not even a park ranger, or a lost runaway looking for escape. Not a single soul, excluding that of Alvin’s, whom she loved dearly. The sight of something else so human in the distance, in her spot, stole her breath away.

Who could that be? She regained her thought and instinctively moved to investigate. The sun’s blinding reflection made direct eye contact with it’s bald head nearly impossible. She moved closer with a cautioned curiosity.

She crept towards the vision on the toes of a ballerina. She moved behind her trees and brush in desperate hopes of remaining undetected. After all, she was only a small woman miles away from civilization. Who knows what kind of things other people this far out in the woods could be up to? She had two advantages on this thing in the distance. The first was her familiarity with the territory. The second was her camouflage. No, she did not dress in hunting gear or cheap patterned fabric. Her camouflage was natural, the same you may expect out of a squirrel or a deer. Her camouflage was the result of living in her environment. She was a part of the earth there, and the earth was a part of her. Her body was coated in a thin layer of dirt accumulated from her daily scavengings. She only cleaned her skin, hair, and nails when she played in the river. To the outside world, her hygiene would have been seen as appalling. Perhaps this was a result of her distorted reflections. Perhaps this was a result of her isolation.

Whatever was in her spot did not belong like she did. It possessed none of the camouflage she had spent years building in. Like a mechanical ant in a beehive, this figure stood out as a stranger. A chrome mechanical ant. It stood with an eerie and natural confidence while remaining completely unnatural in it’s surroundings. The sun’s dimmed reflection off it’s exterior only illuminated her fears as she snuck within twenty yards of it. She inched closer and closer; each step more difficult than the last. With the weight of the world on her shoulders, she finally made a mistake.

Maybe it was the gravity of the situation. Maybe it was the allure of something new. Maybe, and just maybe, she deeply wanted to be heard. Maybe she had a secret desire to reconnect with something so human after all these years. Whatever the reason, she broke the silence of the hills with the loud crack of a branch being snapped in two under the weight of her foot. The thing responded by snapping its neck to focus in her direction. For a moment, there was a silence heavier than any stone she had ever stood on or seen. A silence so heavy as to muddle the air between them like the communication of something horrible. Even more strange was the comfort she felt in being noticed. Her comfort evaporated with the breaching of that silence.

It located her in the brush. She found it’s eyes meet her own. It’s eyes. Were those eyes? They looked empty, metallic, and cold. The black of its pupils hid no soul; its iris’ were as silver as hers were blue. As soon as their eyes met, the thing snapped its shoulders and torso around to face her and unhinged its mouth. It produced a screech reminiscent of a train braking before it reaches the light at the end of the tunnel. The volume and the pitch of it’s howl was nothing she had ever heard before. It was so loud that it produced in it’s wake a sort of silence of its own. She was surrounded by its roar and could hear nothing at all. The endless river seemed to stop flowing. Birds vacated their trees. Those trees that she loved seemed to cower in fear as their leaves and branches were blown back by the pure power of vibrations emanating from the thing’s mouth. Her instinct left her no other option but to run. And run she did. Sprint, in fact. She moved faster than she had moved during her days as a track star in high school. Her legs were propelled forward by the adrenaline of unadulterated fear pumping through her veins. Her heart expanded to accommodate the unexpected influx of blood. Her lungs reached deeper into her torso than ever before to capture all the oxygen from the trees and their fear. Her calves filled with lactic acid for more and more energy that was doomed to build up upon itself and slow her down but she didn’t care because she was numb numb with the terror of the unknown that shrieked behind her still even though she had now ran half a mile away from where their eyes met. Half a mile. She checked her surroundings and began calculating. That’s the tree around the third bend behind the fourth hill. If I’m at the third tree coming from the other way then that means there’s three more hills. Three more hills? Two more hills. Count backwards. Average pace? Two to three miles an hour. I’m at eight to ten now. My heart is hurting. Push on. Three quarters of a mile left. About seven minutes. I’m seven minutes from home. Keep running. She bounded through the woods like a gazelle tailed by cheetahs. A pool of sweat began to mix with the dirt and get into her eyes. She didn’t care. She had no time to care. As her home came into view, she could still hear the screeching far off in the distance, though it did not seem to be getting any closer. Did it? She realized she couldn’t tell.

She ran through her open door and fell to her knees. She heaved violently to catch her breath. The screeching had finally stopped. Sweat poured from her neck and forehead as she gasped for breath. She looked up to her windowsill and saw that the dried berries were gone. She started to laugh, almost maniacally. Finally, she thought, Finally, he’s come back. Her breath regained and her heart rate slowed. Her tunnel vision widened and her blinders faded away. She stopped laughing as she started to notice what else was missing. With her knees in the dirt, she took a slow inventory of her one room hut- everything was gone. Everything was gone. The canopy over her head began to rattle. The wind outside shook the forest. The shriek of the thing was replaced by a more natural yell. It was the screaming of the clouds; the winds of shifting pressure. She looked back up to her windowsill. Alvin sat in the center of it. He stared back at her, motionless. He stood erect on the windowsill without moving. She stared at him, he stared back at her, they stared at eachother. Half a minute passed and she thought she saw him shake his head. He turned to run and she thought she heard him saying good-bye forever. The wind outside grew louder and stronger. The fearful woods bent in response. Her canopy was completely removed. Hard rain began to mix with her sweat and dirt. Lightning struck and thunder roared in the near distance. A storm was brewing more powerful than this season was known for. From her knees, she looked up to the sky. Torrential downpour provided her with the first shower she’d had in years. With her knees in the mud, she was washed clean by the fall of the sky’s tears. The sky was crying for her. It was all over now.

The unnatural screeching returned even louder than before. She looked to her open door only to see the thing staring right back at her. Right in her eyes. This was her best look at it yet. It stood seven feet tall with the build of an Olympic swimmer. Its bald head glimmered with a completeness that the rest of it’s body did not share. Its eyes burned a hole right through her chest like an acid eroding her soul. Sparking wires were exposed from its abdomen and sculpted arms. It began to move towards her, screeching still. She noticed the pistons turning in response to shifting pressures from its legs, propelling the thing’s movement like an engine. Each step shook the earth beneath her knees. She began to cry harder than the rain. The thing now stood directly in front of her. Its cry was ceaseless. Sobbing, she looked up at the thing to take one final inventory of it’s build. It looked stronger than anything she had ever seen in the forest or in her former life as a civilized person. She looked back down at herself to notice her natural skin tone, unaffected by dirt and grime. She had forgotten about what fair skin she had. Her grandmother used to say she had a complexion that most women would kill for. As a teenager, she was the envy of her classmates with her fair skin that never harbored any blemish. She had forgotten how beautiful she was. She looked back to the thing which had now stopped screeching. The rain over them turned to a sprinkle and her sobs returned to a few sniffles. Once again, and for only a moment, there was an eerily comfortable silence between the two. It almost felt like an understanding. In her confusion, she began to smile. The thing reached out to her with both hands. Its cold, hard palms cusped both sides of her head and gently turned her face towards its own. She began to bawl again. Somehow, she knew this was the end. Their eyes met. The thing seemed to oblige her deepest fears. At the realization of what was happening, her weeping became uncontrollable. She wailed like a baby. She cried like she did when her grandma died. Oh, her grandma’s death. Her final straw before abandoning civilization. Her great loss that had defined everything else in her life. In that moment, she missed her grandmother’s smile more than she ever had before. Her heart ached to hold her strong, kind hands again. And even though she had broken down beyond all repair, she still managed a prayer: To see you again, Granny. To hold you again soon.

The thing slammed her soft skull into it’s unbreakable kneecap. In an instant, she was dead. It released her lifeless body back to the earth from whence she came. Blood from her ears and mouth mixed with the mud and sweat below. The thing looked around the empty hut, searching for anything useful that it had not already taken. Finding nothing of utility, it turned and marched off onto the trail again, heading back to the overlook it had found by the river. Seven minutes later it had returned to that overlook, where it scanned its environment for anything of use. Perceiving nothing of value, it moved forward through the trail and into the future; always ready for progress waiting around the next bend.

#shortstory

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