Silence of the Wolves Contest
Title: Weightless
Main Player: Quil
Disclaimer:Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer; except for Diane, I made her up.
To see other Contest entries, please visit the Contest's FanFiction page:
http:/www(.)fanfiction(.)net/u/2269000/Silence_of_the_Wolves
Note: Credit where due. IamKate named Claire's sister and parents: Cora, Stacy and Ronnie. I just used them. Also, thanks to CullenObsession and Sharebear for doing beta work.
Hey Jacob, I know Nessie can climb trees like a spider monkey. I don't need a replay.
Oh, shoot, sorry. Scared the crap out of me. I thought for sure she was going to fall.
Yeah, falling wouldn't even hurt her. That kid is half rock. Seth barked a chuckle. I mean has she ever actually bled?
Jacob growled. Easy man. He meant it in the hypothetical. I stepped in, but of course the image of Nessie bleeding was already on Jacob's mind. Seth and I both pictured her with a paper cut. Jacob, of course, had blood shooting from her chest.
Ease up, man. Your girl is surrounded by bloodsuckers. What's going to get through them?
Yeah, you're right. Jacob eased up and we continued our circuit of the Cullen land. All the vampires we could smell were them.
Hey, what's Leah doing tonight? I asked Seth.
She's haunting some new guy. I don't like him. He's one of those faux bad-boys. I saw Seth's impression of the guy. It looked like a hungry Edward Cullen with black hair and cigarette. What the hell?
She's not seriously into that, is she? He looks like a leech.
Seth gave a mental shrug. I think she's trying to figure out what she's into.
Yeah, well I think she should try harder. I sniffed around a tree and found Sam's scent. What the heck was he doing all the way up here? I followed it a little further and found myself outside Makah.
Everything cool, Quil? Jacob asked me.
I think so. I wonder what he's doing all the way up here. In wolf...
Suddenly I felt the world shift.
What the hell is that?
Are you all right?
I couldn't answer. I couldn't think. The world went dark and I fell to the ground in a heap. I felt branches and needles jabbing me as I fell on and through them, but I couldn't see them. Had something hit me? No. Physically I felt fine, but my head, my heart... I felt like a vampire had just kicked me in the middle of my chest. Possibly they'd kicked me right through my chest. I was suddenly human again and lying on the forest floor on my stomach. I pushed myself up enough to feel at my chest. No, no gaping hole. What had happened to me?
I stood up slowly, carefully. My eyes seemed to be working again. I could see the fir tree I'd crashed into. It was broken now. I could look up and see the cloudy sky, the moon lighting a small patch of clouds. I heard a howl, just barely. I phased back.
Quil? Are you all right? Sam just got a hold of me through Jared. I think I know what happened.
I heard the conversation in Jacob's mind and howled myself. I howled until I fell to my belly in the dirt.
Claire! No! Not Claire! No! My mind still wasn't much beyond her name and denial. It wasn't possible. That beautiful girl. Her whole life. My whole life. It wasn't possible. She couldn't be. There was a mistake. A horrible hideous mistake.
My grief was too much. My body shook itself back into human form.
I saw her for the first time again. I saw her taking my hand at Emily's house. Her tiny, cool, dry hand. The one with play-doh under the nails and washable marker on the back. Her warm brown eyes, clear with flecks of green. The eyes that tied me to the world when everything else disappeared. The eyes that filled my thoughts when nothing else took the space. The eyes that lit up when she smiled at me. Her tiny pink lips curling up and showing me square white teeth with a gap between them.
She led me to the table where she had been drawing and showed me her picture. "Up," she had demanded and, of course, I complied. I didn't even think about. I just lifted her tiny, twenty pound body into the chair. I remembered her in my arms. Her baby fat making her softer than a puppy, a pillow. I remembered her smell. Milk and cookies. Sugar and spice and everything nice. Maybe not all girls, but that was what Claire was made of. Spicy ginger cookies with milk.
I heard someone approaching and didn't move. It was one of the pack members. Jacob or Seth. I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned my head to see Jacob crouched next to me. "Are you all right?"
"It's not true."
"Quil. Why would Sam send-"
I threw his hand off me and jumped up. "It's not true!" I phased and ran. Jake could catch me if he wanted to. I really hoped he didn't. His mind didn't join mine.
Quil. Sorry to hear, man.
It's not true. I rejected even Seth's thought of her death. It wasn't possible.
Sure. Whatever you say. I'm just going to phase, all right? Seth's thoughts were guarded and he phased out soon after.
I was alone again. What was I going to do now? I needed to see Claire. I turned around and headed back to Makah. I came to the yard of her house and found Sam in the back.
"I've been waiting for you," he said.
I phased and pulled on my shorts. "I'm not here to talk to you. Where's Claire?"
Sam shook his head. "At the hospital, in Forks."
"What happened?" I didn't want to know, but apparently she'd been hurt.
"Drunk driver. They're all dead, Quil. The whole family."
"NO!" I phased right out of my shorts and ran for Forks. I didn't know what I'd do for pants when I got there, but I had to get to her. Especially if she was hurt. I had never run so fast in my life. I jumped the highway twice. Once I was nearly hit by a truck. I didn't stop to listen for it; I didn't look for it. The driver swerved, but I didn't hear a crash, so I figured he was probably fine. I didn't stop to check. I couldn't. I had to get to her.
Leah entered my thoughts. She had been crying. I recognized the mindset. Quil, I just heard. I'm so sorry.
No! It's not true. I'm going to make sure she's okay.
Quil. I'm in Forks. She's dead. Cora's dead, Stacy's dead. I heard a strangled whine. I saw Stacy, skin pale, blood soaked clothes, broken limbs. Leah quickly changed her mental image to Emily, sitting with her in the waiting room, shaking. Emily clung to Leah, weeping into Leah's shirt. Her sister, her nieces.
No! I refused to believe her.
I remembered the last time I'd been with Claire, on First Beach. She was wearing a blue bathing suit and ran out into the tide. Her hair was held in two ties at her neck and flew out behind her as she ran, six inches of black hair streaming in the breeze she made. Her red-brown skin gleaming in the sun. Her smile, brilliant. She had dived into the wave and come back to me with a rock crab. She laughed as she chased me with it, its pincers pinching at me. Her laugh made me warm. It was like a hug in sound form.
Leah phased out and I was just as glad. I'd heard more whining and keening before she left. Claire was not dead. I sat outside the hospital, trying to find something for clothes. I was in luck. I found an orderly tucking his scrubs into his bag. I burst out from cover and latched onto the bag with my teeth. The man screamed and fell, but I was already gone again. I phased back and pulled on the too short green pants, leaving the shirt in the bag.
I ran into the hospital, right into Carlisle Cullen. I snarled in spite of myself.
"Quil, right?" He didn't even have the decency to flinch as he looked up at me. I bared my teeth anyway. "Come with me."
I had no other way of finding her. If he knew my name, he probably knew what I wanted. I'd taken Claire to their place to play with Nessie a couple times, but always with Esme, not Carlisle. He led me through halls and eventually through a set of swinging double doors.
He walked up to the table and moved quickly to pull down sheets. Then he turned to me. "I'll make sure no one disturbs you." He walked right back out again.
There they were. Stacy and Ronald, side by side. They'd been cleaned since the time Leah had seen her. Stacy's skin was too pale, and cold of course. Her wounds were still open. I guessed that was something they let the morticians do. Her nose was wrong, flat. I tried to straighten it and pulled back sharply when I met the cold skin. Ronnie looked much worse. His face must have met windshield. There were bloodless gashes all over it. It was so strange, open wounds with no blood. It really brought home the fact that he was dead. The blood didn't move anymore, it didn't pump, it didn't rise to the surface of their skin. They were both covered from the neck down by the sheets Dr. Cullen had moved for me. I could tell by the lie of it that Stacy's leg had been broken. It didn't make a straight line like it should, jutting slightly at the calf.
That was when I looked past the adult faces. I saw two smaller shapes draped in fabric. I ran to Claire's side. "Claire. It's Quil. Wake up," I called. Her eyes didn't open. "Wake up," I pleaded. I put my hand to her shoulder. It was cold. I shook it anyway. "Wake up!" I bent my head, nearly touching hers. "Please, wake up." I continued to hold her shoulder; it grew warm. Maybe she just needed me to warm her up. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and lifted her to my chest. I put one hand behind her head, which fell back into it. I tucked it against my neck. She'd warm up now. Then she'd wake up.
I was bent awkwardly to keep from lifting her right off the table. I didn't know how hurt she was, that might be bad. I held her firmly, but not tightly. I remembered the last time she'd hugged me. It had been her fifth birthday and I'd stayed to read to her before bed. She'd gotten a book from her grandmother, Peter and the Wolf. I'd read slowly and tried not to take it personally when the wolf got tied up by his tail. She wore a short sleeved pink night gown and her hair was still wet from her bath. She sat on top of her sheets, telling me it was too warm. I made funny voices for each of the animals and she ate it up. She bounced on her bed when the wolf was caught and clapped when they took him to the zoo.
"Cause you can't kill a wolf, Quil. They're special." I had never told her I could phase into a wolf. I always thought she might be on to me though, especially with all the pictures of dogs she drew for me. And then she hugged me. Her thin little arms wrapped around my neck and her cheek pressed next to mine. I still had the book in one hand, but the other came around her back and stroked once from her neck down to the middle of her back where I patted her twice before she sat back with a sigh. "I love you, Quil," she told me closing her eyes and turning to face the wall. I bent and put my lips to her cheek.
She felt warm now. Why hadn't she woken up? I looked at her face, only it wasn't her face. It was too pale. "Claire?" I asked her. I felt a lump in my throat and couldn't swallow. I couldn't breathe. It couldn't be. "Claire?" I asked again. I remembered all the fairy tales I'd read her. Sleeping Beauty? I would try anything at this point. I laid her back on table, but kept my hands on her shoulders.
A drop of water appeared on her nose. Was she crying? That would mean she was alive! I wiped it away. "Its okay, Claire-bear. Don't cry." Another drop joined the first, this time on the other side of her nose. I inhaled and heard a sniffle. I put my hand to my nose. There were tears on my face.
No, she was crying, she was alive. She was sad. I had to make her smile again. "Don't worry, Claire. Quil will find a way to make it right." I kissed the tip of her nose. It was cold again. Why was it cold? I put my head to her chest, listening. I couldn't fool myself any longer. I couldn't hear her pulse. She was cold because the blood wasn't moving. The tears were my tears, and my sleeping beauty was never waking up.
There had to be a way. Something I could do. Some way I could make this right. I wiped my face on my hand again and stormed out through the swinging door. I walked to the Emergency area and found Dr. Cullen again.
"The person who hit them, where is he?"
"I can't tell you that, Quil. If you've finished, you'll have to leave."
"No." I stepped up to him, his nose came to my chin and I looked down at him. "Who did this? Where is he?"
"She is recovering. You will go, now." His yellow eyes stared up at me.
I didn't need to start a treaty war over this. Emily probably knew who it was. I huffed in the doctor's face again and watched his nose wrinkle. Then I turned and left the sterile confines of that building. I stripped off the pants and stuffed them back in the bag that was still where I'd left it. I walked to the edge of the trees and chucked it into the parking lot. The guy should find it when he came in to work next. Then I phased and ran for my house.
I still wasn't really thinking. I wasn't really feeling. I was numb. I stumbled, naked into my house.
"Quil Atera. What do you think you are doing?"
I looked around behind me. Was Mom referring to someone else? Grandpa? What had I done? I looked at the bottom of my feet. They weren't that bad. They weren't clean but they hadn't been in years. They weren't muddy though. I'd wiped on the mat. I looked up and met my mother's warm eyes. Liquid brown, like molten chocolate, they drew me in. They seemed extra soft with the tears brimming them. She pulled me into a hug and pushed my neck to put my head into her shoulder.
"Why didn't you come straight home?" Stroked my head and murmured to me.
I hugged her back, nearly crushing her to me. "Because I didn't believe it. I only barely believe it now. How could this happen?" I started to sob. I stopped quickly. "I have to make this right."
I felt my mother's hair move as she shook her head. "This isn't something you can fix, Quil."
"No, I'll find a way to make it better though. Make sure no one else suffers." My voice was a low growl.
Mom just continued to pat my back and stroke my head. "You'll be all right, honey. We're all going to help any way we can."
"I'm going to crash," I told her, pushing away a little. I stumbled to my room and flopped on my bed, still naked, still dirty. Mom hadn't even shoved me into the shower. That was weird. I didn't care. I needed a plan. I needed a way to get close to this drunk and make sure she never had a chance to hurt anyone again. I was a protector for God's sake, and I couldn't protect the one thing in the world that meant more than anything else. The night weighed down on my senses and my eyes closed. I couldn't fight sleep, and I didn't want to.
Claire. She looked the way I remembered her. The way she had the past week when I was staring in her windows as she ate supper with her family. She was telling them all about her day at preschool. I hung on every word.
I missed her lisp. She had grown out of that and was pronouncing words with precision now, but I loved it when she called me Qwil. She flung potato at Stacy as she got too enthusiastic in her recollection. I chuckled quietly in their yard. My Claire.
I woke and looked blankly at my ceiling. How long had I slept? I was pretty sure I hadn't moved since I crashed. My stomach rumbled at the smell of bacon frying downstairs, but I felt ill. I wasn't going to eat. I scrubbed my hands over my face, my stubble. I felt the grit under my fingers. I was going to shower though. I felt like an animal; a dog that had rolled in the dirt. I acknowledged my Dad's, "Morning," with a nod and continued to the bathroom he had vacated. I let the water run cold. It would wake me up. I still felt numb. Was that normal? It was more than numb, I felt – weightless. That made sense. The one thing tying me to this world was gone, why would I be weighted?
I passed through the kitchen with a, "Morning," and, "Bye," for my parents and grandparents before strolling over to Sam and Emily's house. I hadn't been there much since the pack split. We weren't hostile to each other, but it had formed a natural divide. Our pack tended to meet at Jake's or the Cullens' or the Clearwaters'. Today, I needed to talk to Emily. Leah might have the answers I needed, but after last night, I wasn't ready to face her.
"Quil," Sam greeted me on the front step.
"Sam. Emily home?"
"She's with her parents. They're – making arrangements."
I nodded. That was bad. A funeral, a burial, I wasn't ready for any of those things. "Maybe you can help me. Do you know who hit them? Cullen wouldn't tell me at the hospital. Just that it was chick." I tried not to growl. It wouldn't help my case if I seemed overly hostile.
"I don't. Why don't you come in?"
"No, that's okay. Who brought them in? Would Charlie know?" Makah was a long way from Forks, but they didn't have their own police force. This woman might be in Charlie Swan's custody.
"State troops. Charlie would know though, yeah. You're sure you don't want to come in? Emily put some cookies in the oven before she left." There was a ding behind him and he walked into the house. I dragged myself up behind him. It was the undeniable lure of Emily's cookies. She could bake, that woman. That was the biggest loss with the pack split in my opinion, no more Emily cookies.
I stepped in the house and howled. I doubled over. They weren't oatmeal cookies. They weren't peanut butter cookies. They were ginger snaps. The house smelled of Claire. I was on my hands and knees on the floor. I needed to get a grip. I tried, but couldn't breathe. I pulled myself back out the door, crawling, and sat back when the fresh air hit me.
"Quil, are you all right?" Sam was standing over me, hand on my shoulder.
"I think so. Don't outlive Emily, all right? Trust me."
Sam's hand quaked on my shoulder.
"I'm going to see Charlie." I rose and walked away. I walked all the way to Forks, right up to the station. I didn't remember seeing anyone along the way. There probably were people, I just didn't see them. All I saw was Claire. I remembered her hand in mine as we walked. Her tiny fingers wrapped around two of mine. Leaning slightly to the side so she only had to stretch to reach me. She stretched and held tight. She never let go when we walked together.
I opened the station door and walked inside. "Can I help you?" the woman behind the desk asked.
"Is Chief Swan available?"
"Yes, just a moment." She picked up a phone and pushed a button. "Someone to see you, Charlie." She hung up the phone. "He'll be right out, I'm sure." She smiled at me and I tried smiling back. She flinched.
"Hello?"
"Hey Charlie, I'm Quil Atera, a friend of Jacob Black. I was wondering if I could talk to you."
"Yeah, come on in," Charlie headed back to his office and closed the door. His deputy was already seated at a cribbage board. I tried not to be too annoyed. "What can I do for you, Quil?"
"A friend of mine was killed in that crash last night. I was wondering if you could tell me who the other driver was."
"Her name is Diane Brewer. As far as I know she's still in the hospital. You aren't planning on doing anything I'm going to have to follow up on, are you Quil? I would hate to do that to a friend of Jacob's, but I will."
"You don't have anything to do with her – case?" I looked at the cribbage board. I didn't know if case was the right word or not.
"No, State's got it. I can give you a number for them, if you want to keep on top of it." Charlie fished around his desk and came up with a card. He flipped it over and scrawled on the back. "Trooper Jennings was the first on scene. He'd be the man to talk to. Now, there's a process here, Quil. You're going to respect it, right?"
"Of course, Chief Swan." I ducked my head and turned to leave.
"I dunno, Charlie." I heard cards being shuffled while the deputy spoke. "You really think he's not going to go for revenge?"
"I don't think so, but let's give Diane a heads up, just in case."
"Good idea."
I headed out of the station and stopped at the first pay phone, looking up Brewer. I found three and started roaming town. The first was an elderly couple. There was a park bench conveniently close by and I parked my butt to eavesdrop for a while.
The couple got a lot of phone calls while I listened.
"Yes, it's terrible. She's a wreck. Well the car is too, of course," the older woman chuckled and a growl rumbled in my chest. "Yes, but she is distraught. There were two little girls in the other car you know. She feels terrible. I told her that done is done, but it will take a lot of time for her to heal. I'll tell her that. She'd probably like someone to talk to. All right Betty, good bye."
I wandered to the next Brewer on my list. It wasn't likely she'd be coming to her grandparents' house from the hospital. I hit pay dirt. The parents were just getting out of the car and Diane was behind them. She wasn't old, twenty something. She looked fine, a few scratches. How was it Claire was dead and this bitch was walking?
She looked right at me. Her blue eyes teared up and she ran for the house.
"You!" her father roared. "Get out of here."
I growled as I walked away. I didn't go far, listening.
"Yeah, I won't go far. I need some air, all right?" Diane was at the door. She'd had a couple arguments with her mother regarding eating something.
I was on my feet before her door closed.
"You," she said.
"Me."
"Who are you? Chief Swan just said you are a friend of the family."
"Quil Atera." I couldn't tell her how much more than a friend I was. She definitely picked up on the chill in my tone though.
She started weeping. "It was only the second time I'd had anything to drink. I-I thought I was fine. I'm so, so sorry, Quil. If I could take their place, any one of them, I would." She didn't come near me, which was good; I would probably hurt her.
"I wish you could."
Her eyes flashed up to mine. "Look. I know what I did was wrong. But it's not your place to judge me!"
My eyes narrowed and I growled at her. "It is exactly my place." I took a step nearer her.
She crossed her arms and craned her neck to meet my eye. "Chief Swan will take you into custody the second anything happens to me. He knows you're up to something."
My lip curled back and I leaned over her, putting my face in hers. "That won't save you."
"Good," she whispered. "I don't want to be saved."
I hadn't anticipated that. I really hadn't anticipated what she did next. She bobbed on her toes, closing the short distance between us and pecked my lips.
I hadn't thought of kissing a girl in nearly three years. Now the one person on this planet I wanted to destroy, had me thinking about kissing her. What in the hell was wrong with me? I snarled at myself and she stepped back from me, afraid.
"I'm sorry, Quil. Mr. Atera. I don't know why I did that."
I growled and turned.
"Wait!" She chased after me, putting her hands to my chest to stop me. "You can tell me about them? About the girls? Their parents?" Tears continued to flow down her face. "I want to know everything I can. Please?"
"I owe you nothing," I spat at her.
"I know. I know." She shook with sobs. Was I a monster for not caring? I didn't think so.
"Diane! Get away from him!" Her mother was behind us now.
"He's not hurting me, Mom. Back off." Her face hardened. "I really want to talk to you, Quil. Come back tomorrow? Think about it?"
She didn't kiss me again, thank god, and pushed herself off my chest to move around me. Was I really stupid enough to come back tomorrow? Yes. I was.
She was alone in the house when I rang the bell. "Quil. Can I call you Quil?" I shrugged. She could call me killer, it's what I was going to do. "Come in, Quil. Can I get you anything? Tea, coffee?"
"Water."
"Sure." She filled a glass from the cooler. She motioned for me to sit in one of the chairs, but I continued to stand. I hadn't slept last night, I might pass out if I stopped standing. I hadn't eaten yesterday either, maybe sitting was a good idea.
"What can you tell me, Quil?" she asked putting her hand on mine.
I met her eyes, clear and blue. "Claire was five years-old. She was starting kindergarten this fall. She loved to read. Her favorite colors were green and brown. She had a smile that lit the world. And she's dead, because of you."
Diane had been smiling, drinking my words until the end. She dropped to her knees and put her head in my lap. "I wish I could change it. I wish I could go back and throw my keys in a lake. I wish my friends had made me stay the night. I wish..."
My hand stretched over her head, shaking. I had to fight two impulses. The first, the easiest, was the urge to phase. I had to work harder to stop my hand from grabbing the back of her head and squeezing as hard as I could. Instead I made a fist and brought it down on my thigh, next to her cheek. I pulled her black hair as it was trapped under my fist.
She gasped and looked up, rocking back onto her heels. The fear was plain on her face. Then, it evaporated. "Do it," she whispered. "Make me hurt like they did. Kill me." She closed her eyes and waited.
I was shocked. I'd just been given permission, no requested, to do what I wanted. So why didn't I? Why did I hesitate? This was the exchange, the bargain. Her life for theirs. But her life wouldn't bring them back. The darkness took me and I pushed out of my chair joining her on the floor.
I wept as I had only once since I'd learned the news. I wouldn't let myself cry. Crying meant admitting it was over. But it was over. The deal was empty. Killing Diane didn't bring them back. I had nothing to hold me to this world ever again.
Diane tried, and I didn't fight her. She wrapped her arms around my neck and cried with me. "Please," she begged. "I can't live with this guilt. I can't live with what I've done."
"I can't live without her."
Diane stroked my head and I wept hard, clutching her in my arms, wishing she was smaller, rounder, and smelled of ginger. Wishing her skin was darker. At least her hair on my hands was right. The right length, the right coarseness.
"Claire," I whimpered.
She kissed my cheek and pulled my head up a bit. "You're going to be all right, Quil. I'm the one who isn't." I shook my head, she didn't understand anything.
Then she kissed me again. I wanted to howl. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tear her apart, but I didn't fight her; I kissed her.
I was gripped by something I didn't understand. Grief, sleep deprivation and hunger must have snapped my brain. I started tugging at her shirt, pulling it from her pants. My hands followed under.
"Yes," she murmured and started pulling my shirt off too.
I was still laying on her floor two hours later wondering what the hell I had done. I had just had sex with the woman who killed Claire? What kind of sick puppy was I?
I'd hurt her, just like she'd asked me to. Probably not in the way she intended though. She had bruises up and down her arms from my grip. Her back bore eight long gashes where my nails had torn the skin. She never complained; she seemed to take pleasure from it. We were both sick. I pushed her off me now and stood up, dressing quickly.
She hung her head. "Thank you for coming." She didn't look at me again as I stormed out.
I couldn't phase. I could never let anyone know that had just happened. I wandered town aimlessly for hours. I still couldn't sleep. I still wouldn't eat. And now guilt was added to grief. I wasn't angry anymore, just – empty. It was dark when my wanderings brought me back to her house. There weren't any lights on. I walked up to the door and couldn't hear anything inside.
I opened the door, tearing the lock through the wood. I needed to see her again. I needed her to be guilty with me. I needed something to fill this void that had consumed me. I heard feet hit the floor above me. "No, Dad, let me." Diane came down the stairs. "Who's there?" she asked, holding a rifle in her hands. "We don't have anything, get out of here."
She couldn't see me in the dark. She didn't know it was me. I ran for her and she fired. She was good. She hit me square in the chest. My heart would heal, but not before I'd bled out. I smiled as I fell backward.
It was dark, but light at the same time. Diane's face was in mine for a moment before everything went black. "Oh my God, Quil!" she screamed.
"Qwil!" Claire called to me. She spun, making her yellow skirt swirl out from her, her braids flying. She giggled and smiled. Then she ran to me.
"Claire-bear," I whispered.