chapter thirty-nine

I tried to think of the last words I said to Briah the first time he died. I flipped through scenarios and situations we often found ourselves in living in that house together and realized it was probably something inconsequential, something so meaningless. Something I could've said to anyone. See you later. Whatever. Okay. And then I had a second chance. A chance to have my brother back, a chance to help him and a chance to save him. But the only thing I managed to salvage this time was my last words to him: fuck off.

I cried a lot. I wasn't always crying, but it hit me randomly. I'd be sitting on the couch or with a dinner plate in front of me and then my gut would twist up and my chest would tighten and there was no stopping it from there. There was shaking and wailing, and snot and spit and it was a mess. But every time it happened Bobby just held my hand and coached me through it, waiting for the peak of it to fade off so she could help me regain my breathing.

Someone must have told Bobby. They must've told her everything because when Quil dropped me off that night and helped me hobble up the front steps, Bobby didn't say anything. She watched me with sad and shocked eyes and sat against the bathroom door while I sat in the bath for hours, letting the water turn cold.

Time didn't seem to be passing, at least not how it used to. Chunks of daylight and chunks of the night sky passed me by. I stopped showering and I stopped going to work. I lied in bed and I inhaled cigarettes like they were air and I picked at my lips until they bled. I watched T.V reruns and I didn't eat meals and I tried not replay the sight of my decapitated brother's head rolling around on the ground.

That was what really got me, I thought. It was like a bust, like marble bouncing off the wet soil. I agonized over the lack of blood. Briah was blood. He was splattered stains against white t-shirts and trickles from his nose, dried up on his hands and dripping over his eye. Covered and filled. But when his head bounced off there was nothing. I dreamed of it.

There were times I wanted to talk about it, too. When I couldn't cry but I could feel something piling up in my throat, coming from deep in my chest. I opened my mouth, waiting for something to fall out, something profound and healing and worth the energy, but it was nothing. I said nothing.

Mostly I felt nothing. It was nothing and then nothing and then tears, nightmares, and more nothing. Everything blurred. The only thing that grounded me was the cast on my ankle.

Everyone came to visit me. I was more popular than I had ever been before. Sam and Emily, with platters of still steaming food and kind, yet uncomfortable eyes that wanted me to feel better but didn't know how to make it happen. They didn't stay long, and they didn't say much but Sam put a hand on my shoulder and told me that if I ever needed anything, he'd be there. Seth stopped by with a card, homemade, and a cake Sue Clearwater had thrown together and that unbearable cheery energy that for once didn't make me feel rotten. Jacob came with a small, wooden bear he had carved by hand in the middle of his open palm. Leah was always there, Quil too, lounging around the house and ignoring the way my chest would collapse and I'd gasp and sob while Bobby stoked my hair. I was never alone.

Even Kim and Jared came. I was sitting on the front steps when they did, fiddling with the ends of my sweatshirt, greasy hair falling in my face when I saw their car roll up Bobby's driveway. When I saw Kim step out of the passenger seat, I saw the same expression I saw over a year ago, and I ran. I sprinted towards Kim and I slammed against her so hard she wobbled, stumbling back while my arms were tight around her neck. "Again," I was all I managed to wail into her shoulder.

Like she had before, Kim squeezed me around my waist and whispered into my ear, "I'm sorry, Remy. I'm so sorry," and it was like we had never been apart.

I didn't know how long I stayed there, clutching onto Kim like if I let go, she'd disappear. And while I was standing there in the driveway, everything felt heavier and heavier, and I was being crushed by the weight of it. My knees started to buckle, and Kim knelt on the ground with me, knees pressed into harsh gravel and I thought that Kim was there whenever I cried over my brother and I said, "I'm sorry, Kim. I'm sorry."

"Shh, it's okay, Remy," she crooned. "It's okay."

It took a while for the tears to subside, for me to pull myself up off the ground. There was something about Kim that made me want to cry until I felt better and when my eyes were finally done leaking, I felt lighter. I forgot she could do that; I forgot what it felt like to be friends with Kim. I had forgotten Jared was there.

He looked at me with strange eyes, watching and examining, lips downturned while his girlfriend kept her arm over my shoulder. "Remy, I just have something I really wanted to say."

"I'm not in the mood to talk, Jared," I said, voice tired and rough and strained, like I hadn't spoken in days.

"Are you in the mood to listen?"

I gave him a shrug. "I guess. Go for it."

Kim's grip on my shoulder tightened when he looked to her for support. He sighed, lifting his arms and then dropping them by his side. And I thought he'd have this big monologue ready to go but when Jared opened his mouth all that managed to come out was, "I'm just really fucking sorry, Remy."

"'S not your fault. You didn't kill him." There was more to it than that. More that I wanted to say to Jared, but I couldn't look at him and I couldn't say anything else. I just hoped he knew that I didn't blame him anymore. "Thanks for coming."

Kim gave me a sad smile. "Of course, Remy. Of course, we came."

Everyone came to see me. Except Embry.

I waited for him to come. I snuck outside every night, back pressed against the walls of Bobby's house, facing the woods and sitting there until I couldn't keep my eyes open. But he never came, in any form. I didn't even think he was out there, like he used to be. I felt stripped of him.

The grass smelled dry and felt crunchy under my palms. The leaves of the woods didn't so much as rustle and the only thing that wasn't still was me. I kept fidgeting and cracking my knuckles and shifting my feet around trying to get comfortable, but it never worked. There was just something wrong with every way I sat against the wall, so I just kept moving and shuffling.

I didn't notice Quil until his arm was brushed up against mine. He sat by my side wordlessly and stared ahead at the still leaves and quiet trees.

Quil and me, we didn't talk that much anymore. There wasn't that much to say; Quil was suffering and so was I. It was really easy for me to forget, sometimes, how close and Briah were, until I saw the redness in his eyes and the pallor of his skin. He felt the betrayal in the same way I did. He felt the sharpness in the same way I did.

"He hasn't come," I said to Quil after a few moments of still silence. And I still hadn't gotten used to the way my voice sounded, all cut up and jagged, throat not used to much else other than sobs.

He nodded. "I know."

"Why?"

"I don't know Remy," Quil whispered. "I just don't."

"Have you talked to him?"

"No one has."

"Do you know where he is?"

Quil shook his head. "No one does."

I paused, biting down on my bottom lip and watching my cousin, watching the way his bottom lip trembled and he tilted his head to the side so I wouldn't see the tear that rolled down his cheek. "It's worse than the first time," I commented, emotions drained.

"Yeah," was all Quil said. I leaned my head against his shoulder. He patted my knee.

I wasn't expecting it, when he did come. He didn't announce himself, but then again, he never really did. That was the thing with Embry. He always just showed up, uninvited and unasked, and stirred me up and then left me again, showing up only when he felt like it again. I was drenched in the smell of cigarettes and stale sweat, tired of sitting on the couch but not ready to step outside the house. So I was on top of the kitchen counter, cutting up a pineapple I didn't really plan on eating.

Knife in hand, I took my time, peeling the exterior in excruciating slow motions, dragging the knife down the side and I didn't even know if it was the right way to do it but I didn't care. I was just focused on trying not to cut the tip of my finger off or remember the smell of the smoke that engulfed my brother.

He made himself known, loud footsteps against the hardwood floor to announce himself. At first it might've been Bobby, she could've left and I wouldn't have noticed. But when I looked up and saw Embry there, my heart tumbled down to the pit of my gut. Embry looked worse than me. His eyes were shadowed by heavy dark bruises and his hair was filled with twigs and dirt. The clothes on his back hung off him like rags.

Embry stood in the doorway to the kitchen, arms by his side and uncomfortable. I stared down at him for a while, trying to muster up something other than the numbness I had let myself fall into. But I couldn't look at Embry the same.

I looked back down at the pineapple and started slicing. "The door was locked," I deadpanned.

"No, it wasn't," he countered easily, and I eyed him again, watching his chest rise and fall with heavy breaths.

"You look like shit," I told him, flat, hands shaking as they worked. He didn't say anything. I bit down on my lip. "I waited for you to come."

His replies were quick and prepared, and I wondered if he spent all this time away preparing exactly what he was going to say to me. "I wasn't ready."

I dropped the knife. I sat up straight and I stared Embry in the eye. "Ready for what?"

He had a fire in eye. "You know that Sam gave Emily those scars?" he questioned, taking a step towards me. I narrowed my eyes at him, head tilted. I didn't know that. I didn't like it, either. "Yeah, they were arguing, and it got really bad. Emily was standing so close to him, right up in his face. And Sam was losing it. It was an accident, obviously, but he was past the point of control, and he maimed the love of his life. And every day, for the rest of his life, Sam has to look at Emily, and know that he did that to her. He scarred her, he almost killed her, and he's reminded of that every day. And I'm gonna tell you the same thing he told her, while she was in her hospital bed. You say the word, and I will kill myself."

My mouth went dry. My fingers curled and uncurled as the numbness started to fade and my eyes began to prick. "What?"

"I know that what I did hurt you," Embry lamented, voice cracking. "I know it's gonna hurt you for the rest of your life and every time you look at me your gonna see the monster who killed your brother. And if you can't stand to live with me, if you can't stand the sight of my face or the sound of my name, I'll end it."

Something flared inside of me when I realize he meant what he said. "Don't be fucking stupid, Embry. You can't say that shit to me," I whispered, tears starting to fall and muscles tensing as I became white hot with rage. "What the fuck is wrong with you? You can't just do that. You can't just try to get rid of the weight of your guilt by killing yourself and passing it off like something I want. You're stupid for thinking something so selfish is something I'd ever want and so is Sam. Fuck. Fuck, Embry!" I screamed, slamming my hand against the counter and Embry looked at me with wide eyes. "Are you stupid? Are you seriously fucking stupid? Do you realize what that would do to me, if you killed yourself? If I had to deal with loosing, you and my brother and to live with the guilt of knowing both of your deaths would be my fault? Why do you want that life for me? Why do you want that pain for me?"

Embry stepped back, stumbling. "I don't. I just-I just thought you hated me. I thought you'd want that."

But I was on a roll. I couldn't stop. "I can't hate you, and even worse than that, I love you. I need you and all you do is hurt me and then leave! You killed my brother, and you couldn't even stick around long enough to say sorry!"

Something softened in Embry's eyes and I don't know what happened but in two long strides he closed the distance between us and he took me in his arms, pulling me off the counter and holding me against his chest and I didn't protest. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist and he just held me up and let me cry.

It must have been strange for him, after months of harshness and rage and stone walls for me to be sobbing into his shirt, for me to be clinging to him like he was the only thing that could hold me together. "Don't leave me like that," I sobbed into the fabric of his shirt and shook in his arms.

"I won't, Remy. I won't."

"You have to promise."

His hand was firm against the center of my back and he nodded. "I promise. I promise I won't leave you like that."

"I don't forgive you."

"You don't have to."

"But I don't want you to go."

I could hear his heart beating in his chest. It was steady and strong. "Whatever you need. I'll do whatever you need."

me realizing i failed as a writer bc it turns out you all literally hated briah the whole time lmao. i was like "phew y'all are gonna be so sad when he dies" and everyone was like "oh thank GOD it wasn't one of the good characters."j fkdkdkjcfk (btw i did consider killing off embry to the point where i wrote the entire chapter ending with him dead but i thought it would be too mean. i also thought abt killing off remy but remy is a bad bitch u can't kill her. i would never kill off bobby i feel like there would be a mob after my head and also !? writers needs to stop killing off lesbian characters like what the fuck is up with that? but someone had to die). oh well you live and you learn so now i'm taking notes for how to make teeth sadder.

this is also the hardest chapter for me to write. that's why its so short. might rewrite but im happy with it for now.

ONE! MORE! CHAPTER! (and then an epilogue) (and then a halloween special) it's been over a year since i started this story and i cant believe how far its come. i also cannot believe this was the most popular story ive ever written and i lost over 200 reviews and hundreds of readers hahahahahahah im so bitter still tbh

incorrect quotes!

remy: can you do me a weird favor without asking any questions
bobby: isn't that the bedrock upon which this friendship was founded

paul: you know what? we're smart too bobby
bobby: oh yeah? whats the difference between a gamete and a zygote
jared: don't fall for it paul. she's just making up words

seth: oh fiddlesticks! that really ruffles my feathers!
remy, crying: please say fuck

remy: you shouldnt be using a straw
paul: i know, i know. it's bad for the environment.
remy: it's just a weird way to eat spaghetti

bobby: being gay isn't a choice
bobby: it's a game and im winning

embry: when i first met you, i did not like you
briah: i am aware of that
embry: but then you and i had some time together
briah: uh-huh
embry: it did not get better

bobby: can we talk? one remy cree stan to another
embry: i dont see why not

remy: bobby are you a top or a bottom
bobby: im a threat
leah: shes a bottom

embry: don't be scared of remy. she used to do ballet
jared: no way...
remy: which gives me the exact physical skill set to strangle you with my feet

remy: what the fuck is jared even doing
kim: his best