Title: Queen Of The Sh*tshow
Rating: Mature for language.
Characters: Emily & Leah.
Written For: Twilight Pack Fanatfics first short story challenge.
Prompt: Sometimes the witch's kindness shows it's she who deserves to be Queen.
Summary: Emily is targeted over her scars and Leah is sick of it.
She hid behind her hair self-consciously as the whispers continued in the next aisle.
"One word, and I'll scare the shit out of them for you."
"I'm sure a day will come when I don't even hear the comments anymore," she said.
Despite the way it cut at her self-esteem, she was not unused to the reactions of strangers now. In the store. At work. In the library, even. Sometimes children were unintentionally the cruelest, bluntly asking their mothers what was wrong with her face. Of course, children couldn't help what they didn't understand. The problem was that their parents rarely helped them understand. Most glanced toward Emily and were taken aback, hurrying their children away as if she were somehow a threat.
The not-so-hushed voice in the next aisle asked, "What the hell do you think happened to her?"
Love happened to me. It wasn't his fault.
No, she would never blame him for when she had pushed him so far. He had never raised a hand to her before or since, but that did not matter to other people. And so, a lie was told to keep him safe from judgment while she recovered.
Somehow, what should have been a solution only made him feel worse when he overheard comments about how he could surely do better than her. Strangers didn't know he was the reason she was scared from her scalp to her breasts, an all too real result of the danger barely contained under his warm, caramel skin.
Emily was grateful for her family. The pack and imprints kept her surrounded in affection as she busted her hump to take care of them all. Nearly every dime Emily made went into keeping their boys fed. She sacrificed every part of herself for her family. She always had.
Leah asked, "Are you okay? Do you have everything you need?"
"Yes," she said glumly. "Let's get the hell out of here. I am ready to go home."
The sympathetic look her cousin gave her nearly broke her heart. Emily didn't deserve her forgiveness. Not in her mind, at least. If the roles had been reversed, she wasn't sure she could be so understanding to the woman who took her fiance.
As they carried multiple bags of groceries to the car, a teenage boy nearly plowed into them.
"Hey!" Her cousin growled out, "Watch where the fuck you are walking, asshole."
The boy looked up from his phone and scowled. "Witch," he muttered, pushing past Emily as if she weighed no more than a feather.
"Don't," she yelled as her cousin lowered her bags to the ground. "He's just a dumb kid, Leah. Let's go."
The ride home was silent as both fumed over their short shopping trip. Bags were carried inside, and items put away. Emily began to work on supper. She expected Leah to leave and was surprised as she sat at the table instead.
"Em, what happened today …"
"Don't," Emily said and sighed. "Please, Leelee. I don't want to talk about it. It's my fucking cross to carry. It is what it is."
"Fuck that, Emily," Leah argued. "You were hurt. You aren't some evil woodland recluse casting spells on cattle and holding back the fucking rain. You were injured. The kind of treatment you put up with is inexcusable."
"Well, now you know why I won't take Sam to the store with me," Emily joked as she smirked at her cousin.
"You don't deserve this shit, Em," Leah insisted.
"You know what? Maybe I do," Emily confessed. "After all, Sam and I … well, we have caused our fair share of pain around here, have we not?"
"I thought we were past this," Leah muttered sadly. "I mean, I fucking forgive you, okay? Is that what you need to hear? Do you think I would be this damn protective if I didn't? Next time I won't be so reserved. These people don't know anything about you. They don't know how hard you work around here to take care of other people or that those scars you are stuck with came from your own sacrifices."
Emily glared at Leah and asked, "What does that mean?"
Leah said, "I know you and Sam fought over me when he accidentally clawed you up, Em. He told me the truth. A long time ago. I know you tried to break up with him and make him come back to me. Hurting me was never something you ever wanted to do."
"What I intended and what we did were two different things, Leelee. I never blamed you for hating me. I wouldn't if you still did," Emily said.
To her surprise, Leah rushed to pull her into a tight embrace. "Look," Leah said softly. "If you tell anyone I said this, I will lie through my teeth, okay? But, you and Sam? You are both where you're supposed to be now. Do you think I would ever have had the patience to be the Alpha mate? Feeding these bottomless pits, mending their stupid jorts, mediating arguments between the imprints and shit? No, Em. I would run everyone off with my temper. You were the one meant to be the queen of this shitshow. You have the temperament, the skills, and the fucking patience of Job. I don't know if anyone else could take care of all the boys the way you do. You are kind, always ... even when they don't deserve it. Hell, when I don't deserve it, too."
Emily released a deep breath as she blinked back tears. She looked around the house, picturing how packed it would be in a couple of hours. Large, hungry bodies, too much testosterone, and loud laughter filling the empty space between them. And Leah actually said she forgives her? It was a miracle in itself.
"I'm not so sure about Queen," Emily said. "I feel more like a scullery maid than a witch or a Queen."
"Well, no one ever said you couldn't be all of them," Leah teased. "Maybe I will buy you a tiara."
