Grease Monkey

Chapter Twenty: The Second Coming

The next twelve hours weren't so pretty. Lots of trips into the woods. Tons of climbing. Then a lot of returning to the house with bumps, bruises, scratches, and bad thoughts of eating bunnies. If it killed me I'd keep my vegetarian diet. Being a werewolf would not change everything about me. That much I could be certain off.

Other than that I looked at houses, called Scott, practiced scratching the back of my ears with my feet, and similar junk like that. From calling Scott I learned that he's pissed at me for leaving them at the mercy of the Alpha locked in the school. I also learned that apparently the guy I almost took to bed a few hours prior was accused of keeping five teenagers hostage and murdering a janitor. I really had a bad taste in men. Or at least the universe had a bad taste in men for me… oh whatever. I'm done trying to analyze that shit.

At the end of the day I ended up back at my house with a hammer and saw. I was going to put my eternal restlessness to good use. I had ordered more wood and I continued the foundation for the eventual roof I'd get back on it. Hadn't made it to the drywall point. I'd get there some day. So, until then, I'd work my butt off. Not that that's anything new. Been doing that for as long as I can remember.

I didn't have Conner this time around so by nightfall I was pretty wiped out. I didn't even have the energy to make it back to Melissa's house. Which meant I wasn't going to be getting an intact shirt or bra for a while. I had to use my itty bitty sowing kit to partially mend the damage that Derek had done. My face was getting hot from just the memory of us rolling around on my charred covers. Stupid… werewolf… emotions… thing…

'Just go to sleep you overly hormonal creature.' I thought to myself before crawling underneath my sheets and drifting off to… Sexy Dreamland. Really? Why does my life suck?

Of course it would be a sex dream. I was in my house, fully intact, before the fire, and I was laid out on silk sheets in the only matching set of underwear I owned. It was red, lacy, and irrevocably sexy and I hadn't seen them for years. In fact… now that I thought about it I recognized that night with an astounding clarity. It was the first night I had sex ever… with James. Oh Brooke, you were making so much progress. Now you're dreaming about one of the most intimate moments you shared with your then boyfriend?

"Hey."

I looked up to the bathroom doorway and was greeted with one of the sexiest sights I had ever seen. Thud. Thud. Thud. 'Be still my beating heart.' I told myself. Just because James was standing there all tanned and chiseled and steamy from a shower doesn't mean you get to act like a sixteen year old schoolgirl again. Still, even though I told myself this, that's just what I did. I brought my knees to my chest and backed all the way up against the wall behind me. To top it all off I was blushing like crazy.

James let out a laugh, "Oh, sweetheart." He cooed, crawling onto the bed and over to me, "If you don't want to-"

"No." I interrupted, staring at my thumbs all cracked and dirty from the motor oil I used day in and day out, "I-I want to. It's just… I'm scared."

He pulled my hands away from my face, "It's okay to be scared. But I've got you."

"Promise?" I whispered like the naïve child I was.

He lightly pressed his chapped lips against my forehead, "I promise I'll never let you go."

I smiled at him, trying to hide my nervousness, "And that you'll be with me forever?"

At first he looked as if he was going to laugh it off. But when I raised my pinky finger into the air he just looked at me, "You're impossible." He said, wrapping his little finger around mine, "But, yes. Forever."

And with that I signed away my virginity. James crawled onto me, put himself inside of me, loved me. I'll admit, it hurt. Not as bad as I thought it would. It probably helped that the man I was giving myself away to loved me truly. I wouldn't know the difference, though. I hadn't had sex with anyone that wasn't James.

Once it was all over, it stopped being a memory and turned into a dream. James removed himself from me and looked into my eyes, "Brooke?"

With tears threatening to form, I choked out, "Yes?"

He brushed the back of his hand over my cheek, "You have to move on."

My eyes widened and I barely managed to say, "What?"

"You have to move on." He repeated, "It's been eleven months. You need to let me go."

At that tears freely cascaded down my cheeks, "But… but…"

He kissed me softly, "No, Brooke." He said once he had pushed away, "You cannot love the dead. Not the way you loved me. Not anymore… because you're alive. You still have a future ahead of you. You can't let the past keep you from reaching your potential."

"James…" I sobbed, "I don't want to lose you! Don't make me do this!"

He chuckled sadly, "You've already lost me. Hanging onto a memory won't bring me back. It'll only prolong your suffering"

"Please… please don't leave me." I continued to cry.

"Brooke…" He said, wiping away the tears with his thumb, "I'm not asking you to forget about me. I'm not asking you to forget everything we've been through. I'm asking you, as my best friend, my wife, and my lover, to live your life."

I looked up at him with intense purpose, "I don't want a life without you! I never wanted a life without you! You're the one who left, not me. You don't have to right… you can't just ask me to let you go… what if you're the only person to ever love me?!" I yelled.

"Dear," He started, holding my chin in his hand; "You know that that isn't true. It isn't even possible. You're a radiant girl, Brooke Winston. Men can't help but to fall in love with you. If you'll let them."

I wanted to say something, but couldn't. I was crying too hard.

He let out a sad sigh, "Brooke, look at me." Hesitantly, I did, "Go. Sell this house and leave all memory of me behind."

"Bu-"

"No. You have to do this. Fate dictated that we were not meant to be. I wish we had been, I wish I could've loved you for the rest of eternity. But I can't. That right is reserved for someone much more suited for you." He finished with a kiss to my forehead.

As his lips touched my skin a mental image of Derek flashed into my mind. I looked up at James in slight shock, "You think…?"

"I know." He corrected, "One day, he'll love you even more than I do."

And with that the dream dissipated. Not that there was much else to recall from the night… the second I woke up I wasn't in control of myself. I gazed up at the clouded full moon and I couldn't register another thought other than… I'm going to shift. And it's going to hurt. Fuck. Please, to all that is good and sacred in the world, don't let me eat bambi. Amen. And let my life carry on without me acting like Lana Del Rey in Dark Paradise. Amen.

Author's Note: Sorry short chapter is short. But just a brief dream sequence to add more to my inevitable plot to take place during Season 3. Glad you guys liked Derek and Brooke's incursion last chapter. I quite enjoyed it as well! Sorry I'm talking like this... been on a bit of a Sherlock kick, if you may. And I'm watching Sherlock Holmes (2009) right now. But as of right now I do not know what I'm going to do with the rest of Brooke until Season 2 so it might be awhile before I post something. Lots of rewatching Teen Wolf for this grrl. Read and Review! xoxo, Momma Love