Don't blame your death
On the shit in your head that you claimed
ate you like a virus for days on end.
I watched you decay,
Watched you waste away.
Who'd you think you'd fool, baby,
digging your own grave?
Fire – PVRIS
"He should have called back by now."
"Maybe he's at work."
"He doesn't work on Wednesdays."
"Then maybe there was an emergency with his mom."
"At the same time that he just so happens to be running around in the woods, tracking a pack of rogue werewolves on a full moon?!"
I sighed, slamming my book shut with a loud snap. Clearly I wasn't going to get any further down the page until the issue was resolved. "Scott's a big boy," I reminded my boyfriend, eyeing him as he paced the length of his bedroom floor, staring down at the phone in his pocket, willing it to light up with a text from his best friend.
"You're a big girl," he reminded me snidely. "And you've still managed to nearly get yourself killed on multiple occasions in the six months I've known you."
I wanted to argue the point, but the kid had a valid argument. "He's got Derek with him," I said placatingly. "And Isaac, and – God help us all – Peter."
"Yeah, but they probably split up to cover more ground," he retorted anxiously, fingers tapping restlessly against his leg. Again, he made a good case.
"What do you wanna do?" I asked sarcastically, sitting straighter and crossing one leg over the other. "Take the Jeep out and drive into the forest on a full moon to try and find your best friend who may or may not be in trouble and running from a pack of hungry werewolves?" He was silent, giving me all the answer I needed. "We're not doing that, Stiles."
He sagged, taking two large steps forwards to fix me with a pleading look. "Come on," he whined, but I gave no other reply than a stone cold stare. He sighed, brushing the bridge of his nose with his thumb tiredly for a long minute. Finally he collected himself, blinking down at me where I was lounged lazily on his bed with an uncharacteristically serious expression. "You know I wouldn't do it unless I had a good reason."
"And your reason is?"
"I have a bad feeling."
I wanted to debate his words, but I knew there was a validity to what he'd said that I couldn't ignore. If there was one thing that had become abundantly clear in my extremely long lifetime, it was that you should, above all else, trust your gut.
"Okay," I finally nodded, and Stiles looked relieved. He knew he didn't need my permission to do anything, but he obviously felt better having it. I slid to my feet, striding over to where my old combat boots lay in the corner.
"Um, what are you doing?"
I looked up at him like he was stupid. "I'm not going into the forest without shoes on," I told him, brow raising dubiously. "I may be a vampire but I'm not a barbarian."
"What? No," he huffed, sparing a moment to roll his eyes. "You're not coming with me."
I looked up at him, eyebrow raised dangerously. "Excuse me?"
"It-it's a full moon," he stuttered, gesturing wildly to the window where I could see the silvery glow of the moon peeking passed the clouds.
"If you think I'm letting you go gallivanting through the forest while a pack of untamed and uncontrollable wolves are running loose, you're not as smart as I tend to give you credit for," I told him with a stern stare.
"But Jules-"
"Either we both go or I'm going to take the battery out of your Jeep and throw it in a lake."
He didn't appear very happy with my ultimatum, but grumbled an agreement nonetheless. I felt a flash of sympathy, I knew how much he worried about his friend. I was worried too, Scott was important to Stiles, and, to a lesser extent, me. I'd come to see the teen wolf as somewhat of a friend myself over the last few months, and if there was one thing I needed, it was more friends.
"I'll call Damon," I told him softly, scooting to the edge of the bed and reaching down at grab my discarded shoes, pulling them on my feet slowly. "He said he'd be out tracking Klaus and the pack tonight. Maybe he knows something."
"Good idea," he murmured, patting his pockets, double checking he had his keys and phone before spinning around and heading for the door. With an eye roll I trotted after him, appearing at his side as he began his trek down the stairs.
"Hello?" the eldest Salvatore brother answered the phone with attitude, sounding irritated with me before I'd even spoken.
"Where's the pack?" I asked instantly, not in the mood for pleasantries.
"You know, I have better things to do than keep an eye on those mongrels-"
"Where?" I repeated, slipping into the passenger seat of the jeep, a burst of air hitting my face as Stiles turned on the AC.
"North-East," he replied tightly. "About a five minute run from the edge of town."
"Got it," I nodded, then paused, watching distractedly as Stiles pulled out onto the main road. "Damon, is he-?"
"Last I knew Klaus was heading South," he told me, a gentle tone to his voice that wasn't there before. "You won't run into him."
"Okay," I replied simply, forgoing a thank you and mumbling a goodbye before hanging up, slipping the phone into my pocket. "Take a right up here, and continue onto Kinsmen road," I told Stiles, pointing halfheartedly in the northern direction. He nodded, eyes scanning the shadows he couldn't see through, looking for any hint of his best friend. "We're heading into the thickest part of the forest?" I asked for clarification.
"Well they're not going to be spending the full moon at the bowling alley, are they?" he retorted sourly, and though it was meant to be biting, I couldn't hold back my smirk.
We were both quiet for a while, each searching the darkness for the pack. "Let me out up here," I instructed him, reaching for the handle.
"What? No," he replied with a worried frown.
"I'll be faster on foot," I said logically, bending over to make sure my laces were properly tied.
"Remember what I said about having a bad feeling?" he asked, concern colouring his tone.
I sighed, reaching across to wrap my fingers around his. "I'll be fine," I assured him softly. He still didn't look convinced. "You're not going to find Scott from the car," I told him honestly, and he glanced away from the road to meet my eyes briefly. "I have a better chance of helping him if I can track him, and I can't do that from here." He didn't look like he wanted to listen. "You know I'm right."
He was scowling as he pulled over onto the side of the road, the brakes squeaking as we rolled to a stop. "Call me every ten minutes, and also the minute you find Scott, or, hell, even Derek."
I didn't like the overprotectiveness, but I decided to let it slide for now. I leaned over the centre console, pressing my lips to his gently. He kissed me back, and I could feel his anxiety through our connected lips. "You'll see me soon," I vowed with a soft smile as I pulled back.
Before he could comment further I slipped from the jeep, shoes hitting the dry dirt ground with a muted thud. "It'd better be in one piece when I do!" he called back snidely. I flashed him a wicked grin, my teeth no doubt glistening menacingly in the glow of the full moon. He shot me a concerned look, but I paid him no heed, blowing him a cheeky kiss before letting the door swing shut, spinning around and disappearing into the shadows between the trees.
The stench of wet dog clung to everything, making it difficult to get a hold of where the source was. Eventually, as I stepped over logs and dodged low hanging branches, I came across a field that reeked so intensely of mutt that I felt the urge to dry-heave. I grimaced, keen eyes sweeping the darkness for any hint of danger, my senses in overdrive.
I needn't have worried; the whole area was clean, not a single puppy in sight. I exhaled sharply, glancing up at the starry night sky and asking whoever would listen for patience. I turned around, just about to head deeper to the North when an ear-splitting howl reverberated through the forest, shaking the leaves around me and making my ears ring.
I wasn't a wolf, so there was little I could do to determine who it was like so many other dogs could do. The sound did have something familiar about it though, and I knew instinctually that it was Scott. I darted into the tree line, green eyes cutting through shadows like they were nothing, running at full speed in the direction the pained howl had come from.
I was only running a good three minutes before I had to stop dead, very nearly running into another familiar face. "Derek?" I hissed, eyes narrowing as I took in his tired expression, blood dripping from the nostrils that was too small for his face.
The alpha shushed me, glaring at me through the dark. I glared right back, silently demanding him to tell me what exactly the fuck was going on. He pressed a single finger to his lips, shaking his head negatively and looking pointedly at a spot far off in the distance.
Another howl cut through the night, and my attention snapped to the fire roaring a good dozen yards away, flickering in a small clearing. It took a moment to figure out what I was looking at, but eventually I realised I was seeing Scott, held to the ground, the paws of a giant wolf keeping him immobile.
I took off running, ignoring the way Derek grabbed at my arm, shaking him off and making a beeline for the clearing. I didn't realise my mistake until I'd tumbled out into the firelight, seven sets of glowing eyes looking up at me, drool dripping from their barred teeth, warning growls echoing through the space.
"Get out of here!" Scott yelled at me suddenly, but I ignored him too, swallowing thickly and ducking into a defensive crouch, barring my own set of fangs at them, silently sizing up my opponents.
Two of them were fully transformed, but the rest must have been young, because they were all still half-human with sharp, ugly claws protruding from where their fingernails should have been. The biggest one looked like he'd be the toughest to take down, but I had speed on my side, and he looked so large he was likely clumsy, giving me the advantage. His red eyes made it clear he was an alpha, but with a pack so big I didn't expect him to do all the fighting alone.
There was a shifty looking skinny one off to the side by a bush, she looked a hair away from going postal, but she couldn't possibly be any more reckless than I was, so I wasn't too worried about her. The only other one who looked to be a problem was a large, dark skinned kid who reminded me of Boyd, but this guy was shorter, and had a glint in his eyes, it was almost hungry.
Overall, I could have taken any of them individually any day of the week. But all at once? Seven against one?
I didn't like those odds.
I knew my best bet was to get Scott the hell out of there, and I wasn't a fan of the method I'd have to use to do it, but I didn't see any other way out. If there was one thing that caught a werewolf's attention on a full moon more than an outsider, it was a vampire.
"Hello puppies," I said with a large grin, standing from my defensive position, forcing my shoulders to relax. The one standing on Scott's chest cocked it's head, amber eyes glaring at me.
"What are you doing?" Scott growled desperately, staring up at me from the forest floor with wide, alarmed eyes.
My mischievous grin didn't falter, and I took an experimental step closer, seven wolves growling deep in their chests in response. "It's okay, Scott," I told my friend calmly, eyes widening at the large alpha in silent challenge. "It's been awhile since I had a good run."
"Jules!" he murmured with trepidation, flinching when the wolf holding him down snapped it's jaws at him warningly.
"Here doggy, doggy," I taunted with a sneer that probably appeared more confident than I felt. The alpha wolf looked back up at me, growling threateningly. I forced my lips into an impish grin, and it snarled.
I took an experimental step backwards, deliberately putting my weight on a stick, eyebrows raising as it cracked. I had a split second to act, I looked down, catching Scott's gaze, staring down at him, my voice laced with seriousness.
"Run."
Then I was the one running, a pack of hungry, angry, wild werewolves on my tail, teeth snapping together and claws extended out, desperately trying to sink into my skin. I was faster, I knew I would be; I always was. But I couldn't run forever.
My best bet was to keep them running until the moon set, then hopefully their lunacy driven haze would lift and they'd actually have some form of common sense and humanity returned to them. I exhaled the warm summer air, ducking under a low branch then leaping over a large fallen tree. The wolves behind me wouldn't catch up any time soon, but the alpha looked like he was actually making some progress. I could hear him getting closer, and I realised he'd have to be extremely powerful to catch up to me.
I ran for a long time, changing directions and dodging trees in an effort to lose them. I came close to the edge of town at one point, not realising how near I was to civilisation until I heard a car horn honk. I took a sharp right, instantly diving deeper into the forest, away from anywhere that a human could get caught in the crossfire.
Finally, just as the sun was peeking above the trees, the wolves chasing me began to drip away. One-by-one the sound of their footfalls on the soft earth began to stop, either they were tiring or they were getting bored. I couldn't blame them.
I was exhausted.
I couldn't keep running, but a glance to the heavens told me the full moon still hung up above the clouds, looming steadily in the pretty pink sky. The glance away from my path turned out to be my downfall. With my eyes off my path, my foot caught on a large stone, my momentum propelling me across the small clearing.
I landed on the ground, my weight falling on my arm, which snapped under the pressure. I hissed, flipping onto my back, cradling my broken bone tenderly. The three mutts still on my tail were only a few seconds behind me, so with my good arm I reached out, grasping desperately at the dewey grass. My fingers curled around a thick stick, and I clutched at it, waiting until the wolves were on top of me before swinging it up and burying the sharp end of the wood in the half-human's side.
It howled in agony and unappetising blood spilled out over my hand. Trying to shelve the pain of my broken arm, I pushed myself to my feet, instantly snapping out my foot and slamming it into a fully transformed wolf's side. It yelped, thrown off to the side and smashing painfully against a tree. Thankfully the remaining one was still on two legs, though it's eyes were the glowing red and I knew it was the bloody alpha.
We stared at each other, waiting for the other to make a move as we listened to the wind whistle through the trees and his betas whimper miserably from behind us.
I knew the smart thing to do was keep my mouth shut, but I just couldn't help the tired smirk that spread across my lips. "Looking a little 'rough', pup," I commented with a shit-eating grin. "Need a time out?"
He growled, sharp features seeming to only deepen as he glared at me. He unceremoniously took off, running at me, leaving heavy footprints in the dirt. The mischievous smirk slipped from my face as my heart jumped into my throat. I crouched the second he swung, easily ducking the blow and landing one of my own to his torso.
The force I put behind the hit jolted my snapped bone, and a shockwave of pain echoed through me. My knees gave way, and my eyes watered, but I bit my tongue and forced myself back to my feet. But my distraction cost me, as I spun around his claws caught my shoulder, bumping my broken arm further. Most of my shirt went with his hand, ripping off my skin like it was nothing, leaving me in nothing but the tatters of what was once a decent piece of clothing, a group of gruesome gashes revealed running down my collarbone.
With a furious roar I slammed my foot into his junk. He grunted but seemed otherwise unaffected – probably a eunuch – stepping aside, making me over-swing with my next punch, sending my tripping. I hissed from my new position on the ground, swinging my leg out and taking his feet out from under him. He groaned as he hit the forest floor, but I knew I couldn't hang around and fight. I wouldn't be at the top of my game until my arm healed.
So I tried to do what I did best: run away.
I felt sluggish and heavy, and before I'd even stepped three feet from my opponent, his hand grasped at my leg, bringing me back down beside him. As I landed on my broken arm I yelped in pain but powered through, swinging around to glare defiantly at him.
All I saw was a flash of glowing red before there was a searing pain in my side. I threw my head back, an agonised scream ripping from my throat, an aching pain crawling up my chest and down my arms.
After a long moment that lasted entirely too long, he stopped. Not because he had a change of heart, but because Damon appeared out of nowhere and slammed his knee into the mutt's face, sending him collapsing back into the mud.
I gasped for air, it felt like acid pouring into my lungs. I crumpled to the ground, head lulling back in pain.
I stared dazedly up at the slowly brightening sky, absent mindedly noticing how beautiful the splashes of pink, purple and peach were, only barely registering the searing pain in my torso.
"Juliet?" a familiar sultry voice asked, and my fuzzy vision slowly focusing on a worried looking Damon, crouching over me, blue eyes concerned. "It's going to be okay."
"What?" I asked confusedly, the words feeling wrong in my mouth. What was wrong?
It was like I was experiencing everything from underwater, or like it was all from a dream. Damon's mouth continued to move, and I noticed a phone pressed to his ear. Who the hell would he be calling at this time of day?
After a long minute Damon hung up the phone, gently prodding the source of the agony and I felt a wave of nausea sweep up my throat.
"Up," I demanded weakly, and, clearly knowing arguing would be pointless, he braced a hand behind my back, propping me into a half-sitting position. Taking an deep – and unnecessary breath, I glanced down at the wound.
A large, gruesome bite mark was set into my otherwise perfect skin, blood trickling down my waist and onto my jeans. A sickening feeling of something like grief crawled through me, and my eyes watered. I'd promised Stiles; I'd promised and I'd let him down. Again.
I opened my mouth to speak, but stopped dead when I felt the familiar warmth of the healing process. I stared down, watching in shock as the wound closed itself up.
"I thought-" I began confusedly, hope appearing in my tone as I glanced up at the sky, where I could only just see the tip of the moon over the trees. "But you said-"
My hope was squashed instantly as Damon stared down at me with pure pity, a rare expression for the eldest Salvatore. "This is how it starts," he told me quietly, pushing himself to his feet and holding out a hand to me. I took the help, allowing him to pull me upright. I winced as the gashes on my shoulder stung with the movement. In a show on uncharacteristic kindness, he ignored the way my bottom lip was trembling.
So this was it.
This was how I died.
"What will happen next?" I asked shakily, clenching my jaw to stop it from quivering.
Shaking off his own sympathy, the usual apathetic stare melted over his handsome face, appearing to all the world, careless. "It'll be a lot like a human flu," he began, listing off the points on his fingers. "Then you'll hallucinate, and eventually you'll rabid. We'll have to put you down like a dog – awfully ironic, isn't it?"
I swallowed another mouthful of bile, feeling my fingers tremble embarrassingly. "How long?" I asked, glad he didn't bring up the way my voice cracked.
"It's different for everyone," he shrugged. "Could be a day or two. Probably won't be any more than three."
I breathed in, savouring the smell of the summer air. "And there's no cure?"
He hesitated. "Not one you'll like."
Hope once again filled me. "I doubt there's anything I wouldn't do to save my own life," I told him with wide eyes.
"Klaus."
And just like that, the hope was gone again. "Klaus?" I asked weakly, biting my tongue so hard I tasted blood.
"More specifically, his blood."
"Do you know where he is?"
"Not his exact location. And I have a feeling it would take longer than three days to find him."
I sighed, pressing my fingertips to my temples. "Even if we could find him, I doubt he'd help me," I told him. I heard the familiar hum of an engine in the distance, and my heart dropped into my stomach. I bit my lip, ignoring the way my eyes began to water.
"What are you going to tell him?" Damon asked, clearly referring to the kid less than a mile away, on a path directly to us.
"That I need to leave," I choked, sniffling lightly and staring resolutely up at the soft colours of the sunrise. "That I won't be coming back."
My old friend shook his head, but I couldn't find it in me to look away from the sky. "That's the wrong decision."
"Excuse me?"
"Look, I made the same mistake; I didn't tell the person I...care about that I had the bite until the last few hours," he told me quietly as I listened to Stiles' jeep edge closer to our location.
"If I'm going to take relationship advice from anyone, it's not going to be Damon 'I can only fall in love with people my brother loves first' Salvatore."
He looked affronted. "Well at least your sense of humour's still intact," he muttered bitterly. "And I'll have you know that I met Elena first."
"Very mature," I scoffed. Headlights flashed into the small clearing, and the jeep rolled out from the shadows, a stressed looking Stiles inside.
"Even though it's probably a lost cause, I'm going to see if I can't pull a few strings to get an audience with 'his majesty'," Damon sneered as Stiles parked haphazardly in the dirt, bursting from the driver's seat and tripping over himself in his haste. "Call me if you're still alive in twenty-four hours."
Without further fanfare he slipped into the shadows, disappearing instantly as Stiles stumbled towards me, squinting through the cool morning mist.
"You're okay?" he asked as he came to a clumsy stop in front of me, fingers curling around my arms as he looked me up and down, assessing the damage. He eyed the bloody claw marks on my collarbone, turning a little green at the visible bone, but otherwise seemed satisfied that I was alive. "Damon said you'd been hurt."
"Flesh wounds," I waved his concern off. He exhaled in obvious relief, shoulders sagging like a weight had been lifted. His finally noticed the wolf bleeding out to our left, and the unconscious one on our other side. "Come on," I prompted, threading our fingers together and bringing his attention back to me. "You haven't slept in days."
With a reluctant sigh he nodded, eyeing the bodies one more time before allowing me to gently tug him back to the Jeep.
He was quiet as we began to lengthy trip back through the forest, heading onto the main road. I couldn't take the silence. These were probably my last minutes with Stiles, I wasn't going to waste them in silence. "Talk to me," I begged him.
"Scott and the others are safe," he told me once we were on the road, one hand tangled with mine, the other resting lazily on the wheel. "They're wounded, but they'll heal quickly."
"Not about that," I shook my head, capturing his hand in both of mine, bringing it to my lips so I could gently brush his knuckles. "About something else. Anything else."
He thought for a moment, alternating between staring at me and the road. Finally he spoke, and once he started, it was like he couldn't stop. He so often seemed to only want to talk about me; said I was more interesting than he could ever hope to be. I disagreed, of course, but if he enjoyed hearing about me then who was I to deny him?
Now, it was nice to hear him ramble on about himself for a change. He told me about how his favourite time of day had always been the sunrise, but that he rarely ever woke up early enough to see it. He told me about his David Bowie obsession growing up, and how the only movie he would watch when he was 8 had been Labyrinth.He laughed as he admitted he knew all the words to every Blink-182 song, and how though he loved Green Day, they'd never really compare.
He mumbled about how his favourite story to be read at bedtime had been Pinocchio, and how he thought that was how he'd come to be so good at lying, and how he'd always secretly thought of Scott as his own personal Jiminy Cricket.
He smirked while telling me that his favourite show was something called Criminal Minds, and promised me I'd love it, vowing that he'd bring the first season over the next day so we could watch it. I felt a pang in the spot where my heart should have been, and I winced, hating that he was making plans he didn't know would never come to pass.
Finally, after a time that was too short, he pulled up outside my house, turning off the ignition and peering across at me in the early morning sunlight.
"You should go home, get some sleep," I told him gently, forcing myself to sound normal. He could never know it was a goodbye.
"I can't sleep here?" he asked disappointedly.
"I need along bubble bath and a pint of blood," I told him, only half lying. I honestly was doing those things, but under normal circumstances I would have wanted him to stay. "I have a feeling you seriously need some rest."
I leaned over the console, pressing my lips to his cheek. I stayed there for a moment longer than usual, enjoying the feeling of his two-day old stubble against my lips.
Finally I pulled away, shooting him a pained but gentle smile. "I'll probably pull a cliché and sleep all day," I lied, wincing as I fought the sudden and foreign urge to cough. "I'll call you in a day or so and we can have that marathon."
"Sounds perfect," he smiled tiredly.
I wanted to say more, the words were on the tip of my tongue. They wouldn't have been a lie, they would have been the most honest thing I'd said in 200 years, but I knew now wasn't the right time. I wondered if there would ever be a right time.
Probably not.
"I tolerate you," I ultimately said, and the words didn't even feel inadequate.
Instead of smiling or rolling his eyes like I thought he would, he merely frowned at me, the worry not quite leaving his gaze. "I tolerate you," he said despite the look of concern on his face.
It was good enough for me. I shot him a final smile, cracking open the door and slipping from the car. Once it was shut behind me, I couldn't stop myself from coughing into my hand as I wandered up to my front door. As I turned the handle – having left it unlocked – I glanced down at my hand. In my palm were a few stray droplets of ruby red blood.
I glanced over my shoulder at Stiles, who was still watching me with concern.
"Bye Stiles," I whispered, even though I knew he wouldn't hear, slipping into the dark solace of my home and letting the door slam shut behind me.
A/N: Hello beautiful readers. Could you guys tell me in a review or PM what kind of flashbacks with the Original family you want to see? I'll try and include all of your suggestions!
