Chapter 22 Recap: Quil joins the plot, Embry + Jake run into Rosalie, Embry resolves to go on a spirit quest to break the imprint and return to Lex.
In the grand scheme of things, a cryptic text from Embry was hardly a cause for concern. In the forty-eight hours he'd been gone - and Lex was acutely aware of the time slipping by, if only by the dull ache in her chest - she'd received no less than eight calls (all directed to voicemail) and god knows how many texts.
She'd stopped checking.
If my plan works, this will all disappear.
Deliberately vague, ostensibly so whatever he was plotting couldn't be stopped, and still, it weighed on her mind.
Embry had left (a gaping massive raw wound in her chest), and so Lex had to grapple alone with her thoughts and the pack and an insurmountable pile of neglected coursework and a hefty dose of regret. He'd done exactly as she had asked, when she had asked, as obedient and eager to please as ever.
And, as selfish as ever, she'd sent him away without a second thought.
Had she ever paused to consider where Embry's feelings lay, or stopped to wonder about the things that kept him up at night? Was there ever a time when his wants and needs and wishes came first in her brain, ranking above all else?
Embry had made his affections for her clear, and his commitment to making her happy was unwavering.
He'd run himself ragged for nights on end, if only to spend the briefest of moments with her.
He'd lied to his friends and family, following her word as if it were gospel.
Did he even want to break the imprint?
Lex frowned as she struggled to remember, inwardly scrounging for any clues that would give her insight into how Embry really felt. The night he had left, swearing he'd find a way to free her, he'd said something about the imprint.
It felt like a lifetime ago. Even longer since Kim had slipped out of her apartment, apprehensive of Jared's growing suspicions, leaving Lex under Quil's watchful eye.
She closed her eyes, trying to take herself back to breakfast and Monopoly and a time when she was (mostly) sure she hadn't ruined everything. She'd asked him about breaking the imprint, and he'd spoken. What exactly had he said?
He'd frowned at her sudden questioning, furrowing his eyebrows in thought. "Would you believe me if I said I haven't thought about it? Life led me to you, and I'm happy with that. I don't need a do-over."
The words stung a little as they rolled from his tongue. What they had wasn't organic; their relationship wasn't the sort you'd delight in telling to friends. How would she even try to explain it?
Boy meets girl. Boy stakes mystic werewolf claim on girl without even knowing her name. Girl should be happy.
Could happiness grow under the oppressive weight of antiquated tradition?
She'd wet her lips before speaking. "If we found a way, and I asked you, would you do it?"
She held her breath until he spoke, watching as the words stuck in his throat.
"If you want me to leave you alone, I will. I can do that for you."
You. You. You.
Even with his heart being eviscerated in slow motion, Embry was altruistic to a fault, and she'd never even noticed.
How much had she missed?
"Lexi, you've gotta stop thinking. You're going to hit your daily quota," Quil teased, gently squeezing her elbow.
She blinked hard, tearing her gaze from the kitchen window. "How long have you been there, Q?"
He smiled, but it didn't quite meet his eyes. "Long enough to notice that the view out there's pretty freaking boring. C'mon, come watch a movie. We need to get you looking less depressed."
"I'm not sure I can do that," she muttered, avoiding his gaze.
Truthfully, she'd rather brood in peace, but that was an impossible wish. Instead, she followed him into the sanctuary of her bedroom, pausing to study her messy bed.
The three of them had squeezed into the queen the night before, curled around each other like puppies.
She'd started out alone on the mattress, listening to Kim's easy breathing from the blow-up bed beside her. With the light flipped off, dousing the room in sudden blackness, it felt as if everything was rising to the surface, seeping slowly like forgotten moisture beneath a creekbed. The tears came quick and heavy, wetting her cheeks and quickening her breath before she could stifle the emotion. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to get it together, and, within a breath, Kim was clambering onto the bed beside her, wordlessly curling around her side.
Kim didn't need to say anything; she was there, and it was enough.
Lex wasn't quite sure when Quil had slipped into the bedroom, but somewhere between falling asleep and fully waking, she'd dreamt she was in Embry's arms.
The two men were more alike than she'd originally noticed. They were nearly identical in stature and build, and wholly indistinguishable in temperature. In her state of near consciousness, the chest she rested her head upon felt like home, and the embrace felt like an anchor, and not a shackle.
She'd only realised her folly after Quil had grumbled restlessly, unconscious but still displeased at her tight grip.
Lex had wriggled away from his grasp, pressing closer to Kim, trying desperately to suppress the mortification washing over her.
"Mmmph," Quil had mumbled, blearily scrubbing at his eyes. "Stop movin'. Still sleepy."
She knew if she closed her eyes, denying the reality in front of her, it would be all too easy to pretend it was Embry.
Embry, who had left to protect her; Embry, whose sacrifice she had honoured by snuggling up to his best friend.
Quil had propped himself up on an elbow, scrutinising her in the morning gloom. "Why're you all grouchy? Em said you like cuddles."
"You cuddled me...for him?" she'd asked, blinking away sleep.
"Duh," he'd grumbled, ruffling her tangled-beyond-a-hope hair. "What are brothers for?"
She'd wrapped him up in a tight hug under the pretence of gratitude, but Quil wasn't stupid. He could probably smell her tears, but at least he was gracious enough not to point it out. Quil offered a special kind of comfort, the sort that was freely offered and easily taken. His jocular disposition concealed few secrets; he was the sort that you could take at face value, knowing he would give what was promised.
And if Embry had vowed she'd be protected, it was certain that Quil would follow through.
When they ended up sprawled out in her bedroom in the evening, restlessly flicking between some abominable D-movie and a WWE rerun, it was easy to lean her head on his shoulder.
Even when he curled a blazing arm around her shoulder, she didn't flinch.
They sat in comfortable silence, faces awash with the dim electronic glow of the television. Quil's eyes were practically glued to the display as if attempting to commit the wrestling moves to memory.
Knowing Quil, she'd probably see Jared getting pile-driven into next week, but that was beside the point.
"Q?" she murmured, watching him in the darkness.
He hummed in acknowledgement, his eyes remaining fixed on the screen. "What's up?"
"Did I do the wrong thing?" she asked, releasing the worry that had been broiling within her all day.
He hit the mute button on the remote, rearranging his lanky limbs until he could twist to face her properly.
"What d'you think?" he asked gently, no hint of condemnation in his eyes.
The shame was her own cross to bear.
She takes a shaky breath, winding her arms tightly around her chest. "Yes. No. I don't know," she breathes, feeling close to tears for the umpteenth time. "I'm getting what I wanted, I think, but what about him? What's going to happen to Embry?"
Quil looks at her for a long moment, contemplating. "You didn't think about that before?"
"No."
"Hm. Well, maybe you are the asshole here," he states matter of factly, clicking the unmute button.
"Quil!" she squeaks, pinching his bicep (pointless, but satisfying nonetheless). "That wasn't the question!"
He shrugs. "Not technically, but it kinda answers it. You did what you wanted, even though it'll hurt him. He didn't have much of a choice either way."
"Do you think he'll forgive me?" Lex whispers, dreading the answer.
If it's a no - it would be justified.
Yes would be worse; she could never ask for his forgiveness, not in a million lifetimes.
Quil sighs. "Lexi, don't ask questions you don't want the answers to. Please, for the love of all that is holy, close your mouth and watch this round. I wanna try a backbreaker on Jake when he's back in town."
"Look, you can stay here. We'll make it work. Just - stay inside, alright?"
Jake's gone before he can protest, and the door seals shut with a soft click of the lock.
Spirit quests are typically done in the wilderness, but that'll make it too easy for the others.
He needs to stay hidden.
Embry reclines on the pristine white couch, staring blankly at the ceiling until his eyes unfocus.
Empty mind. Empty future.
The days blur together, becoming an indistinguishable mass of time and space and melancholy musings. Kim manages to buy Lex some time with the pack, dropping breadcrumbs here and there about her abysmal college performance and personal woes. It's not exactly a lie, either - her study's been sorely neglected, and with Embry gone, none of them seem to care about pursuing her. Part of her wants to be angry, wants to lash out at Emily and Rachel, cursing their fake friendship and inauthentic concern. Her anger is an anchor, grounding her in the self-constructed nightmare that she's so desperately wishing to escape. She can spit fire at the pack until her lungs burn raw, but the truth is plain to see.
This is an affliction wrought by her own hand.
Despite Lex's growing apathy, Quil remains devoted to maintaining the charade, threading a detailed narrative through his regular patrol communications. Embry's continued absence exposes Lex to danger, so he argues, necessitating his sustained supervision in her home. He spins tales of quarter-life crises and persistent daddy issues, layering detail upon detail until his packmates find excuses to phase out. With one-third of the pack being candidates for Embry's unidentified half-sibling, the issue is a delicate one, the kind that demands a tactful approach that nobody expects Quil to have. Capitalising on this perceived weakness grants him convenient periods of total mental silence, allowing his machinations to continue uninterrupted.
Keeping his secrets from Leah while her tongue traces the column of his throat is an entirely different ball game, but he's yet to falter.
Simply put, Quil is an expert secret-keeper.
It aches - everything burns, raw and gory and punctuated with white-hot sparks of agony. If the mind-numbing stinging wasn't torture enough, the slow-motion skin splitting would surely fill the gaps. There's only so much pressure the body can withstand, desperately twisting and straining to accommodate the building tension.
Looking down is a terrible move, but you cannot stop your eyes from darting to inspect the carnage. You reach out to trace the thick, red fissures on the surface of your arm, hissing as your fingernail makes contact with the delicate flesh. It's impossible to tear your eyes away; the skin moves of its own accord in response to your touch, visibly throbbing as your heart works overtime.
You remember what it feels like to be ripped apart, remembering the squealing rake of vampire talons across your shoulder blades. You're intimately familiar with the sensation of being split bare for the world to see, exposing your tender innards and sinewy muscle, but that doesn't make this any easier. Just as familiar is the rapid knitting of fresh tissue, seamlessly repairing the damage that your body has endured time and time again.
You know you are capable - you've survived much worse, and you've barely flinched.
Here, contorted on a stranger's plastic-covered couch, is an entirely different story.
Here, you feel everything.
Lex snaps upright, chest heaving with rapid, shallow breaths. The tightness gripping her ribcage pinches and pulls, coiling around her heart with a razor-sharp bite until her vision throbs white. Clawing at her throat for air gives her no purchase, but her fingers move of their own volition, desperately clamouring for oxygen. She doubles over, spluttering noisily as she shakes Quil awake.
His arm splays across her back a moment later, coaxing in air with a soothing circuit of touches. "Lexi, you're okay, you're safe -"
"He's not," she wails, gulping in frantic lungfuls of air. Resisting the agony is futile, she thinks, dissolving into a fresh round of sobs that only grow in volume.
A resounding smack echoes from the drywall beside her.
"Shut the fuck up, for Christ's sake," her housemate hisses, punctuating the statement with a second bang. "It's three in the fucking morning!"
She presses a hand to her mouth, stifling her tears until they subside to a whimper. Quil says nothing; he dutifully strokes her back, huddling close to her side. The usual comfort his blazing heat brings has melted away, leaving only a chilling realisation in its place.
Embry's warmth is fading, and she's feeling every minute change to his condition.
"He's dying, Quil," she gasps, hiccuping through her tears. "I'm killing him."
His eyes are cold and hard, but they show no surprise at her declaration.
"Yeah," he says, eventually. "I think you're right."
A/N: [Insert well-intentioned spiel about being a shitty author who will do better next time]
We're almost there folks - three more chapters (2 to the HEA, and 1 more for the more complicated ending that I originally intended). The final two will be posted at the same time so you can choose what kind of resolution you'd like to read. Honestly, finishing this fic is hard. I feel like my approach to writing has changed so much over the past year and it's been difficult to continue with what I've started, but I owe it to you guys to finish it off. Thank you to all of you lovely souls for reading and reviewing, hitting follow/favourite (I appreciate every email alert I receive!), and those extra special people who take the time out of their day to review every chapter.
Without further fanfare, I'd like to dedicate this well-overdue update to Writhing & Riveriver (the two most patient people EVER), .2021, CrackHeadBlonde, Babyblue44, IpswichMyrtle (who I can always count on to acknowledge my twitter screaming) & beyondbored321. Y'all keep me going - your reviews are more motivational than you'll ever know.
Also, I've written a whole heap of other stuff in the meantime - a Claire/Quil ghost fic, a new Hollywood!Blackwater AU, and miscellaneous one-shots - they're all up on my profile if you wanna check them out. I'll do my very best to get the next chapter done in a semi-reasonable time frame (I promise!)