Leave Out All the Rest

Chapter 38: Things That Matter

POV: Emily

A scream shot out across the night.

Darkness was surrounding me; every tree that invaded the entire open field was closing in on me, attempting to cage me in. I could feel the pointy ends of the grass blades poking my skin, ripping underneath my fingernails, the dirt and pebbles pressing all over my bare skin. My back was colliding with the rocks as it tried to wither away; trying to find me an escape route.

"No!" Another scream pierced the night. It was mine.

Another scream rippled out and passed my lips, but no one responded back. I could only see the full moon at the corner of the night sky, above the trees that were trying to suffocate and hide me.

I felt hot breath on my face, and another scream was let out.

Oh God, just let me die.

"I told you you were mine, didn't I?" That hot breath morphed into a dangerous voice. It touched my ear, sending disgust and complete fear throughout my body.

Something pierced the layers of my skin, drawing out blood, and I cried. "Get off," I begged. "Get off."

I couldn't take it anymore. I was surely going to die if he brutalized me one more time. I couldn't keep on breathing; he'd taken so much of me now.

My attacker rose up a few centimeters off my body, slipping out of me and my destroyed innocence. "Shh," Lance murmured, touching fingertips over my sore face. "It's all over now. Just a few moments, Emily, and you won't feel a thing."

That's all I could hope for, couldn't I? He had taken what the sick, twisted human side of him wanted; now he wanted to let his werewolf curse devour the rest.

He stopped laughing mockingly, and another bolt of fear shot through me. And right as I thought he was going to defile me once more, his shoulders stiffened and he let out a hiss. He started breathing heavily, and then he looked at me—his usual and misleading golden eyes had turned green.

My eyes widened, my heart thumping in my chest as I saw his flesh start to rip away from his bones.

His nails dug into my skin as he hissed and shouted in pain, causing several gashes on my exposed skin. All the new blood that flowed out mixed with the old one he'd taken out of me.

Letting my hands roam the ground beneath me, a little more freedom as Lance Greyback screamed in pain and gave my captive body a little more liberty, I fumbled with a few rocks and a lot of soil until I found what I had been looking for.

"Stupefy!" And as soon as I felt the comforting warmth of my wand between my fingers, I shouted the first spell that came into my mind.

Lance shot backwards—but not too far. He was growling, his werewolf face glaring at me with bared teeth.

Knowing that I was a single moment away from being murdered by a werewolf, I thought back to all the spells I knew to defend myself. And with the weakness that was starting to overpower me I pointed my wand forward once more and shouted, "Confringo!"

As a burst of fire headed towards Lance Greyback, his howl roaring through the night, I started running. I didn't know what part of the Forbidden Forest he had dragged me to, but I knew the edge of it was close; that Hogwarts was close. I ran, ran, ran; ignoring the pain all over my body, my exposed skin, my bruises, and the sticky blood flowing down my thighs.

I was polluted now. I was dirty, filthy, disgusted, tainted—I was destroyed further than I had been already.

X

"Emily!"

I was being shaken furiously; the moon, the darkness, the trees, and the grass all disappearing along with the howls of Lance.

"Emily!"

My eyes shot open.

I was in my dormitory, laying on my four-poster, and the sun pouring in from all the windows Rose loved to keep open to give the place a little light.

"Are you alright?" Deep brown eyes found me, taking over everything for a single second as they gleamed with deep worry.

Pushing away a hand that rested on my stomach, that had been laying on top of the thick scar that seemed to be growing thicker instead of fading away after all these months, I nodded slowly. "I'm fine, James."

It was all a dream anyway; my constant nightmare.

But it was real, wasn't it? It was so vivid. I could feel him tear me open, I could feel him rip me away from anything pure I had, and I could definitely feel every slice and cut and scar he'd given me reopen.

"...I'm going to Hogsmeade with Freddie," James told me gently as I pulled myself into a sitting position on my bed. "I thought you might want to come along."

I shook my head, pushing away the ruby-red blankets I had tangled myself in. "No thanks," I mumbled. "I think I'll just lay in bed for the rest of the day. I had a meeting with Healers all morning, I'm tired." I wiped away the drops of sweat that had been touching my forehead and that I hadn't felt.

The sun has been shining for the past couple of days, signaling summer over the horizon, but I always felt cold. It was like I could only just feel the weather of that night, like my body could only remember the winter breeze that had made my slashed body ache.

Clearly not getting my message as always, James crossed his arms over his chest and looked firmly at me. "You can't stay by yourself."

"James—"

"I'm not leaving you alone, Taylor," he snapped at me, completely impatient as always. "If you're not planning on getting out of this room, then the least I can do is keep you company. The blasted Healers have told you that secluding yourself from the rest of us won't help you recover from everything. You need to interact with us; we're still here for you."

I sighed, pressing my lips into a line for a moment as I contemplated his rant and what I wanted to say. "I know," I said weakly, "and I love you guys for it, James, honestly. But I need time on my own. I need to be by myself. The past few months—"

"I know they've been hard," he interrupted me, "but I'm tired of you pushing me away."

I closed my mouth, my retort not even attempting to come out as I felt something inside my chest crash and fall.

"...You need to forget about Greyback, Em."

Looking at him, at his sad eyes, I wanted to cry. "It's not that simple, James," and it really wasn't. "I can't just jump back into the world like nothing happened. I can't go back to smiling and laughing like I don't have all these scars on my skin. I can't face the world—I can't face you, James." My voice cracked, and now I really was crying. How could I love him now? How could I be close to him now that I was tainted and more scarred than ever before?

He dropped his impatience and frustration; a look of misery glowing in those brown eyes of his. "You're going to be alright," he said softly, carefully approaching my four-poster and carefully climbing on it.

I pushed back against the headboard, my knees brought up to my chest instinctively. My body sensed someone near and it wanted to recoil.

Not missing that action, James grew sadder but he remained still. "...I'll always be here for you."

Still not releasing the tension that built up in my bones, I let a single tear fall. "I can't let you do that." I felt at the point of breaking—a point that I've been living in for years now. I was weak. I was still that little girl who murdered her parents, who was left with nothing because she didn't know how to be strong. I was still that little girl terrified of the world; a girl who'd given up on everyone because everyone had given up on her.

I haven't had much to live for a while now, but then these people came into my life. Then James came into my life, really. But how was I supposed to find some will? How was I supposed to change it all around? I was always going to have a void in my chest, a tear in my soul.

But was there a difference now? Could I be saved?

"...One day you're going to wake up and realize that you've made the wrong choice by sticking with me," I murmured, looking at the older boy sincerely. "You're going to realize you wasted your time with me, James, and then you'll hate me."

James inched closer to me, his legs touching my feet as he settled on my right. "I don't care what you've gone through," he told me in a surprisingly patient tone; anger still there, however. "I don't care who you think you are—all I care is about who I see. I care about the Emily Taylor I've known for years; the girl who won't ever hesitate to call me an asshole when I'm treating people like rubbish. I care about that foolish girl who took an Unforgivable when she was eleven..."

He trailed off momentarily, but then I felt his breath tickle my ear in that quick millisecond that I took to look away from him. "...I will always want you; that girl who became the center of my world."

"You won't have a happy ending with me, James Potter," I replied quietly, his words filled with pixie-dust invading my ears and making my mind fuzzy.

Disregarding my response, he mutter softly into my ear, "I'm always going to be here."

My heart thumped with electricity, and even though I was trying to push him away, I wanted him to stay. James had become immune to my negativity, to my brush-offs, and looked deeper into the words that were being said. He knew the truth behind every one of them.

Slowly, I released the tension in my body and allowed myself to lay down next to James' body. "Am I a horrible person?" I whispered. "Am I a horrible person because I've taken all of you for granted?"

He reached over and wiped away a few fallen tears. "You're someone that's been hurt," he replied, still in his sitting position. "You've been hurt to the fullest extent of the word, Em. And just because you chose to isolate yourself, to not let others carry the burden with you, especially while you carry theirs, that doesn't make you horrible. It makes you a stupid kind of selfless."

Another tear fell. "But what about the bit of relief I feel for being empty? Does that make me a horrible person?"

James stood silent for a moment; nothing much heard from the dormitory but the sound of our breathing and the birds chirping outside the windows. He looked contemplative, like he was fighting to choose one answer to my question.

"No," he said after a few more seconds, "it doesn't." He slipped an arm around my waist, lowering himself fully on the mattress and snaking himself close to me; my back pressed against his chest. Already feeling my body starting to tense up, starting to tell me to flee, he sent jolts of undefinable causes up my spine when he carefully placed a palm over my womb.

"It wasn't your moment yet," he continued to speak quietly as he snuggled into my neck; hand still gently on my empty stomach. "You deserve to be a mother when the right bloke comes along; when you love someone...Not when it's forced on you."

Flashes of that day, memories of being torn, of being hurt, of being cut entered my head. My heart panged, my fingertips felt cold. "...When Lance hexed me, he destroyed what he created inside of me and he didn't even know it.."

"Does it hurt you?" He asked.

"No." And it was the truth so more tears fell. I felt absolutely no remorse.

Another few moments of silence, and then James sighed as he pulled his arm away from my waist. "I better go," he said unwillingly. "Just sleep, and I'll see you when you—"

"No!" I turned around quickly, gripping his hand. "Don't go, James. Don't leave."

He blinked sad eyes at me. "Do you really want me to stay?"

I nodded. "Always." And I was positive; completely positive.

Smiling gently, he laid himself back down against my mattress once more. His eyes pierced through mine; brown meeting green. I could smell his breath, minty and completely clean; pure and refreshing.

"...You won't ever leave me, right, James?"

He shook his head slowly. "Impossible, even if I tried. Mum would kill me."

At his grin, at his naturally alluring self came out, I breathed, "I love you." My heart still thumped along hectically, but this time it held a tingle of happiness and joy with it. "You're what I've been waiting for—who I need. You give me hope, James Potter."

He scooted himself closer, that minty breath of his caressing my nose as he rested his forehead against mine. "Well, it's a good thing that I claimed you before Greyback ever decided to sink his dirty paws in you."

I huffed, furrowing my brows at him in a little annoyance. "Don't be an asshole, James."

He grinned larger. "I love you too."

And with that, he pressed his lips onto mine.

For the first time, for the first time in such a long time, all my hurt seemed to have faded away. Nothing mattered, not the scars, not the bruises, not the dark memories, not Greyback, not my attack—I was soaring through the heavens now. I was flying high, the sun hitting my face; making me warm as James made my body tingle and ignite a bit of life into it.

He filled me with nothing but love.

And he was right, I was his from the start.