Unprecedented
"A Parting"
A/N: Wow guys, I'm really sorry that this took so long! I do have a couple of good excuses, mostly concerning huge amounts of homework (has anyone else noticed that teachers see "four-day weekend" as synonymous with "more time for homework"!?). Anyways, so I'm finally finished with Chapter 3.
Thanks tons and tons to bronzehairedgirl, the wonderful beta extraordinaire!
Disclaimer: I do not own Quil, Emily, Claire, Sam or any of Stephenie Meyer's other characters, plotlines, ideas, etc.
The setting sun filtered through the clouds, lighting the road we were traveling on in a soft, subtle glow. I patted Claire's head, drooped awkwardly over the side of her uncomfortable-looking car seat that sat next to me in the back seat of Emily's minivan. She was fast asleep; her head was hanging over almost onto my lap and her mouth was wide open. I would have laughed if I hadn't been worried about waking her up, although I was slightly surprised that she could sleep at all in that thing. The car seat was just the latest of many things that I had never realized toddlers needed. Emily had looked scandalized when I yanked the car seat out of the car before Claire had gotten in. I hadn't grasped the idea that it was for her; I was just moving what I recognized as unnecessary junk out of the way. Emily got rather angry with me for throwing the seat; she was borrowing it from a friend. Luckily there was no harm done except to my own self-esteem. I clearly had a lot more to learn if I wanted to be able to protect Claire properly. But I would do it. I would do it for her.
Claire breathed in deeply, then exhaled, emitting one of those cute, snuffly little almost-snores that babies make when they sleep. I smiled fondly down at her. The hypnotizing swaying motion of the car had accomplished what Emily could not, and lulled her into a deep, happy slumber.
Emily had tried to put Claire down for a nap after her bath, much to my dismay. I mean, she was almost three… did she really need a nap, when there were so many better ways to spend that time? I had grown unaccountably anxious about her taking a bath. Emily had even been with her, for crying out loud! I wanted to see her again, just to make sure she was safe, warm and happy. Her obstinacy had delighted me when she refused to sleep, standing upright in the temporary crib in Emily's room and jabbering unintelligibly. She especially enjoyed making her new favorite sound, "Splat!" She had picked THAT word up after a certain mud pie hit Sam earlier that day, and that I, of all people, was blamed for.
Emily had given up on a nap after I rushed into her room, grinning like an idiot, because Claire had started crying out her other new favorite word. "Quil."
"Quil, what're you smiling at?" Katie was twisted around in her booster seat, looking back at me curiously. She had gotten over her initial apprehension after a few days, helped along by Claire's reception towards me. Once you got past the shyness, Katie was rather insightful for a four-year-old. She could tell that something was going on, but of course she had no possible idea of what it could be.
I shrugged. "Nothing much. Just thinking." She nodded at me, as though she understood. She eyed the two of us, Claire now slightly drooling onto my leg, and I wondered if she actually did understand, at least somewhat. I smiled reassuringly at Katie and she turned back around to face the front, already thinking about something else, to talk to Sam and Emily. She was okay with Claire and I being together, she trusted me. I sighed.
One member of Claire's family accepted me. Would the rest?
All my insecurities rushed back as I stared out the window at the darkening sky. Shadowy tree trunks flew by, in and out of view, going almost as fast as my thoughts. What would I do if they didn't accept me? My heart burned at the merest thought.
Sam suddenly turned sharply left, pulling into a rocky driveway. My stomach clenched as we pulled through the ever-encroaching trees next to the small wooden house. I swallowed hard.
Her parents were waiting outside.
Claire's mother was a small woman, slender, with the same eyes as Claire, Emily, and Katie. It was clear whom her daughters resembled. Her father, on the other hand, was rather large and muscular. I might have been intimidated, if I wasn't just as big. And ten times as strong.
But it was these people who I needed to win over. I had to convince them, once they knew the legends were true, and that I, a werewolf, had imprinted on their two-year-old daughter, to let me stay with Claire. And it was this thought that scared me.
I gulped audibly, and Sam glanced back as he parked. I smiled uneasily at him.
"What would you say to coming up with a really good excuse in about two seconds?" I asked him. It was glaringly obvious that I was getting desperate.
He just glared. Sam never had had a sense of humor. He stared imperiously down at me. "We must tell them the truth… everything. It's the only way to convince them." His gaze searched me, making sure I understood, and then he climbed gracefully out of the car. I grumbled under my breath and followed suit, gathering Claire up in my arms. Man, she was tired –huh, so maybe she did still need naps. I would have to remember that. But maybe her parents would be in a better mood if she was already asleep…?
Looking down at the angel resting in my arms, I was again overcome by the bizarre emotions that were growing increasingly familiar: protectiveness, tenderness. There was nothing I would not do, or be, for her.
I straightened up, and immediately met the black, suspicious eyes of her father.
Emily was occupied, reuniting Katie and her mother, but Sam stood by my side. "Hello, Peter." Sam was trying to be friendly, but Claire's father simply nodded at him and turned back to me, his eyes zeroing in on his child.
"Who are you?" He asked distrustfully, accusingly. I gulped again, panicking, and attempted to come up with something that sounded sane, but instead was momentarily rescued by Katie, who ran up to hug her father. I sighed, relieved for the temporary reprieve from Peter's accusing glare.
I turned to see Emily coming toward me, her sister in tow. Emily was looking nervously toward the girls' father, but their mother was looking at me. She seemed concerned, but not overtly hostile, that a complete stranger had her baby in his arms.
"And who might you be?" she asked on approaching, eyes flickering down to Claire and then back to my face.
"This is Quil, Julia, he's a friend of Sam's who's been helping us with the girls. You know, Old Quil Ateara's grandson?" I could see that Emily was trying to play up my grandfather's reputation, and I saw the expected flash of understanding appear in Julia's eyes. She relaxed slightly. It was amazing how much better humans feel when they know someone's name.
"Hello, Quil," She said softly, and then scrutinized Claire. "I'm surprised she's asleep, she's normally still bouncing off the walls." Emily, looking at me from the corner of her eye, explained. "She was distracted today, and wouldn't take her nap." I smirked.
And Julia held out her arms, reaching for her child.
I knew she was Claire's mother, that she had primary responsibility for her. I knew that. It didn't make it any easier to let go. I held Claire, feather-light in the arms of a werewolf, out to her mother, and released her.
The sensation that rocked me – of failure, almost mourning – should have warned me. I should have recognized it as forewarning. Instead, I forced the feelings into a shadowy place of denial in the back of my brain. Julia smiled hesitantly, still somewhat confused as to who I was and why the heck I was here, and turned towards the house to put Claire in her bed, Katie following obediently behind. I again began to panic.
It will work out. It will be all right. It will work out. Now that Claire was out of sight the mantra, repeated over and over in my mind, refused to quell the feeling of dread enclosing itself around my heart.
"Quil?" I was pulled from my thoughts and turned my head, looking for the voice that I recognized as Sam's. "It's time to tell them." His voice was solemn, and I could see the worry in his eyes that did nothing to suppress my fear as he, Peter, Emily, and I headed towards the house. Peter still looked rather irritated at my presence. He wanted to know who the intruder was, and why I was at his home.
Somehow, I doubted that clarification would help.
"Are you crazy!?" Peter roared, his dark eyes flashing as he leapt up from the weathered couch he had been sitting on with Julia. He glared at Sam, Emily, and I, sitting on a couch facing them in the small living room of their house.
He was not taking Sam's werewolf explanation well.
"Peter," Julie began hesitantly. She looked as though she wished she had waited to return after putting the girls in bed. "Maybe we should hear them out…?"
"They think that those crazy legends are real, and you want me to hear them out!?" He stared incredulously down at her.
Julia stared straight back, unintimidated. "Yes, I do. Now sit down and stop behaving like a lunatic." Despite the seriousness of the situation, I had to hide a smirk at the look on Peter's face after his wife's reprimand. He looked like he had a thing or two more to say about "lunatics," but slowly sat down again. I sighed, and stared out the small, now completely dark window, keeping myself from butting into the conversation. I had promised Sam that I would let him handle this – he didn't think I could control my temper.
"Now, could you please explain it one more time?" Julia looked coolly toward us. Just because she was fair didn't mean she was gullible.
My stomach began to tighten again. I had known that it wasn't likely they would believe us, and I wasn't sure how Sam could convince them, short of just showing them. That would persuade them, not to mention how much fun it would be to see their faces! I glanced at Sam, hoping he was coming to the same conclusion. Instead, he began his explanation for the second time.
"The legends of the Quileute tribe, the myth that the descendants of Taha Aki become werewolves, are true. Peter," Sam looked hard at the man, who was mouthing wordlessly. "You are a part of the Quileute tribe, you have heard these legends your entire life. And Julia," he turned to Claire's mother, who now looked as if she was searching for a way to doubt his reasoning. "Although you are part of the Makah tribe, you know of our legends. They are real; some among our tribe have the ability to become wolves…" Sam took a deep breath. "Including Quil and I."
I had almost forgotten that Emily and her sister weren't actually Quileutes, but it didn't really matter. There were many people in our tribes who were interrelated, and the Makah knew our legends almost as well as we did. It was clear that both Peter and Julia knew what we were talking about, but if their gaping mouths were anything to go by, they still didn't believe it.
Sam sighed. "How can I convince you?" I grinned – I knew a way – but perhaps Sam didn't want to scare them by actually showing them, as I desperately wanted to. Just to knock some sense into them!
Peter was still struck dumb, but Julia seemed to have pulled herself together and was now gazing shrewdly at Emily. I could almost see a sudden connection flow between the two sisters, and they stared hard at each other for a few seconds. Slowly, Julia began to speak. "Is this what was going on when you and Sam were having some 'trouble?'"
Emily nodded, visibly relieved. "Yes, that's the reason I suddenly couldn't confide in you. There was too great a chance that something might slip." An understanding seemed to come over them then; and a tension between the two women that I hadn't noticed before had suddenly disappeared. Apparently a previous misunderstanding, concerning Emily's behavior when she began to date Sam, had just been nullified. Even better, I knew that Julia now had some kind of proof that all was not as it seemed; she knew it had taken something big to disrupt her and her sister's relationship. Julia believed us.
I heaved a sigh of relief.
Peter still looked rather confused and apprehensive, as well as skeptical, but tried to follow his wife's lead. "All right then, so let's say that you're telling the truth. You and the boy are…" he couldn't seem to say the word.
"Werewolves?" I supplied, trying to be helpful. He just glared at me; I supposed I shouldn't make his insecurities obvious if I wanted to get on his good side. If I wanted to be with Claire.
"Yes, that… so why are you telling us this now?"
I sharply inhaled, and Sam and Emily exchanged a swift, anxious glance. This was the hard part. Sam began speaking again, slowly, in his deep, calm voice. Maybe Sam, our leader, the Alpha wolf, could accomplish what few others could.
"As werewolves, there are certain… traits, characteristics… behaviors that we acquire." He paused, and took a deep, slow breath. "One of these is something called imprinting. It's mentioned in the legends; a phenomenon that happens very occasionally… or so we thought."
Sam stopped, seemingly unsure of how to continue. I looked nervously at Claire's father, to see comprehension dawning across his features.
"Wait, I think I've heard this one." He scrunched up his face, dredging up memories. "Isn't that when… one of you… falls in love, or something like that?"
Sam hesitated. "It's similar, but far more powerful, more absolute. And…" he glanced sideways at me. "Depending on age, not necessarily romantic love…"
"Wait, what does this have to do with us?" Julia interrupted. She had sat quietly through this explanation, trying to understand, but she didn't seem to have heard the last bit that Sam had said, the very important, relevant part. I was beginning to breathe faster now. They had understood, up to a point, so far; I had begun to hope. I had begun to believe that it actually would work out. But at her words the ever-present panic arose once again from the pit of my stomach. I wrenched my thoughts away from despair and again concentrated on Sam.
"Well, you see," Sam looked more nervous than I had ever seen him. "Something happened when Quil here met your daughters. Quil… Quil imprinted… on Claire."
This thought was processed in dead silence, the growing horror in Claire's parents' eyes a premonition of what soon followed.
Peter surged up from his seat, for the second time that evening. The stress was finally too much for him, too much unbelievable, foreign, horrifying information.
"How could that have happened!?" He was practically howling. "We don't even know this boy, and thinks he's in love with my two-year-old daughter!?"
His wife was again looking at Emily, this time hopelessly, helplessly. Incredulously. She didn't understand either! When Emily did not contradict Sam, Julia turned away from her, shunning her, to glare daggers at me. I flinched when I saw the pain in her eyes; that she was separating herself from Emily for something beyond either of their control. But her fury at the situation she found herself in was directed solely at me. She would not be so accepting this time. And she didn't even have to say anything – her husband was articulate enough for the both of them.
"You!" he bellowed, spitting in his rage, and he turned on Emily, of all people. "How could you have let this happen? How could you have let that boy near her in the first place?!" Emily stared defiantly back at him, though she seemed slightly shocked that he was blaming her – the human. I could see that Sam was controlling himself with more difficulty than usual; he (very understandably) didn't like it when anyone threatened Emily.
And I began to growl, deep in my chest, at such a low pitch that humans couldn't hear it. I began to shake violently, and Sam flashed me a warning look – I needed to calm down. It was very important that I didn't lose my temper, and not just because I needed to make a good impression. Although that was certainly something to think about – I doubted Claire's parents would take to me if I suddenly exploded into a massive mutant canine in their living room.
If there was any chance of that left at all.
"You pervert!" Peter roared, again turning his wrath on me. "Get out of my house, stay away from my family! I never want to see you here again!" He jabbed his finger towards the door, and at the finality in his words, I snapped.
It was happening, my worst fear was coming true – I was going to be separated from Claire, from my foundation for existence. There was nothing left in my life; it had become meaningless. There was nothing but the searing pain of loss, I was drowning in agony and could no longer contain myself. I had to find release.
I barely got through the door before bursting into the colossal, chocolate-brown beast. For I knew now that that was what I was. I had always treated my life as a game, teasing with my family, reveling in my new strength and speed. But that was before. Before my world had been forever altered, before Claire, the beginning of reason. And now that that reason had been ripped away, there was nothing left to anchor me to my humanity.
All that was left was the rampaging beast, running through the woods as fast as I could go.
A/N: Please don't hurt me, remember there is more coming! And besides, you have all read Eclipse, right? You should know how it ends. . .
Please review, I would greatly appreciate it!
