A/N: I know it's early, but I was excited. And I figure you guys wouldn't complain.


Fucking Gravity

Chapter 17

I don't hum. Humming creates sound- draws curiosity- draws attention. At home, at school, I do everything I can to be as inconspicuous, as out of the way, as possible. Otherwise, it's like welcoming attention I might not otherwise would have received.

It's not a conscious thing, not humming. But it makes sense. I don't even realize it's something I don't do until I find myself humming lowly.

It's not a very loud sound- just under my breath as I move about my room. But I don't hum, and I suddenly find myself humming as I unhurriedly pack my bag for school tomorrow. I pull everything out and repack it three times, just to have something to do between staring at my phone.

It lights up on my bed, and I drop everything to reach for it with a smile.

..

Sent 9:48

My Wolf Girl

Okay, I really do need to go now

..

Sent 9:48

You

Don't stay out too late

..

Sent 9:49

You

First day of senior year is supposed to be important or something

..

Sent 9:49

You

You don't want to miss it cause you're falling asleep on your feet

..

I can't even pretend to understand why she needs to patrol, still. Maybe out of lingering sense of duty, or just to give the other wolves a break, but I don't fault her for it. Maybe it's just nice to run through the forest in the dead of night- a true break from reality.

I think I can understand that. I think I might want to be wolf- be that strong- be that free. I wonder how it might have changed things.

I start to set my phone back down when it buzzes again- twice in quick succession.

..

Sent 9:51

My Wolf Girl

:)

..

Sent 9:51

My Wolf Girl

If you hadn't come into my life, I probably would have skipped it entirely

..

Would I have fallen into the mindset, too? That 'I'm stuck, so why bother?' Seth hadn't. Not yet, at least. I like to think I could have resisted- I'm used to someone telling me what to do, how to act- to be perfect. Then again, maybe I would have just instantly fallen- a wooden puppet- under the control of some other master.

A thump and thud draw my attention, and I look over, wearily, to my bedroom door.

It's instinct that stills my limbs and has my ears straining in the abrupt silence the absence of my humming leaves behind. I clutch my phone in a fist, and I stand there so long, listening to the shuffle off feet down the hall, that the screen automatically turns black.

I think, maybe, my dad might be shuffling off to bed in preparation for opening the shop for the first time all summer, but then my door is slammed open. It rebounds against the opposite wall- creating a bang that explodes through the previous quiet. I jump, dropping my phone, and then it slides under the bed as I take a scrambling step back.

My dad teeters in the doorway, squinting in at me. The hall is dark behind him.

"Where're you going?" he slurs, eyeing my backpack sitting on the edge of my bed. "You running away?"

"School is tomorrow," I say, heart in my throat, fear boiling in my stomach. A Jack Daniels bottle swings in the hand not supporting him in the doorway. It looks only just opened, so, with how drunk he is, he must have already finished a different one.

He points accusingly at me, rage consuming his flushed face. "You're leaving me, aren't you?!"

I yelp as he staggers forward and swings at me. He's slower when he's drunk, sloppier, but his knuckles still manage to catch me in the face. Heat blooms from the point of contact as I scramble sideways, trying to dodge his reaching hands.

"Dad- dad- I'm not leaving; I swear! School starts tomorrow!"

His fingers get tangled in my hair, completely by accident, but he uses the opportunity to yank me off my feet. My flailing arm knocks against my backpack, and it goes toppling to the floor- spilling the books I've carefully packed three times. My back aches as I land on top of it.

"I don't believe you, you little bitch; you're a fucking liar!"

"Dad, please!" I scramble out of the way of his stomping foot, panic lancing through every muscle in my body. He's completely out of it- completely unhinged.

Despite that, his fingers curl like steel traps around my arm, and he flings me. My ankle twists as I trip over my books, my feet unable to find purchase. Luckily, the bed catches my fall. Unluckily, he chucks the Jack Daniel's at my head.

I cry out as I feel it barely brush past my ear before it bounces against the mattress and flops into my pillows.

I'm not entirely sure why I reach for it, but my fingers curl around the neck, clenching it like a bat.

"Dad-"

"-Shut up!" he advances toward me. I don't know if I actually would have swung at him, don't know if I could have stopped swinging at him, but I don't have to find out. My books provide an obstacle course for his uncoordinated feet, and he crashes to the ground, taking my lamp with him off the night stand.

I don't give him a chance to recover- I bolt for the door, ignoring the sting in my ankle as I tear down the hall. The back door remains swinging wide open as I go where I always do when I have nowhere else to go.

Kim is with Jared tonight, Leah is running free, so I go camping.

It's lucky its warm, because I have no sleeping bag, no supplies (I was lucky to still be in my shoes). But I'm still shivering by the time I stumble my way to my falling apart lean-to. I'm crying too- the tears making it even harder to see through the dark.

The only reason I find it at all is because I've walked the path so much- in the day and the night.

I collapse against the tree, ankle throbbing now, and double over with a sob that makes my ribs ache in protest. My cheek pulses in pain and heat as the rain slowly soaks through my clothes.

It takes almost an entire ten minutes to realize that I still have a nearly full bottle of Jack Daniel's clutched in my hand.

Maybe, someone witnessing this, would look at me in contempt for it, after what just happened, but there's no one here to judge me except myself. I twist the cap off the bottle and tilt it back in one, unhesitating, motion.

It burns my throat, and I come up for air with another wretched sob as I slam my head back against the tree- reveling in the bite of the bark against my skull. I do it again.

I should fix my shelter. I should get out of the rain. I should check to see how bad my ankle is. I shouldn't think about it- should think only of my girlfriend and friends and how fucking happy I am. Instead, I drink while simultaneously hating myself, hating my father, for it. Instead, I think about how much I want to die.

It doesn't last. It never does.

After a while, I start to calm down. I'm not entirely sure if it's a natural coming down, or if it's caused by the blurring reality the drink causes, but no more tears fall. I feel warm, but I can't stop shivering. My aches are dulled, but they're now spread out to every part of my body.

After that, I don't have any feeling at all in my limbs, or the ability to form a single self-deprecating thought. Or any thought.

Which is about when the huge-ass, silver, mutant wolf appears out of the trees.

POV Change

It takes Fay a moment to notice the wolf, which isn't all that surprising with the alcoholic stench coming off her and the empty bottle rolling at her feet.

But when she does, an instant happiness lights up her face and she excitedly calls out, "Leah!" Her too-wide eyes watch as the wolf shrinks and takes on a more human form. "Oh. Yuuur not Leah."

'Shit-faced' is the word Seth would use to describe his sister's girlfriend. Which, he's kind of grateful for, because pulling on pants in front of her right now is like changing in front of a two-year-old. Complete disinterest in anything he has to offer. Which, okay, would most definitely be the same if she were sober, considering her interest in his sister- a girl (but she would at least blink- maybe pull some faces and turn away).

She just looks confused that Seth is not, in fact, her girlfriend.

"What are you doing out here, Fay?" he asks, taking in her crumpled, shivering, rain-soaked, form. An old tarp is dangling and crumpled up not a foot away, but she doesn't even try to seek shelter under it. Everything about this situation sets him on edge. He should get Leah.

"I'mmm drinking," she says, lifting her hand up. Then she squints toward her empty hand, a confused expression furrowing her brows- and it creates even more dramatic shadows across her face. She drops her hand back to her side. "I'mmm not drinking," she corrects herself.

Seth creeps closer, and the smell of alcohol permeating the air becomes even thicker, even with the rain suppressing it.

"Okay," he says, wondering if it's even worth it, interrogating someone so inebriated. "But why out here. Why aren't you at home? We have school tomorrow."

"That's what I said!" she hisses, gesturing sharply. Then she promptly falls over in a pile of giggles.

He clearly can't leave her out here like this. Patrol isn't quite over, but, for this, Leah would forgive him for bailing out a little early. He sighs and reaches down.

"Come on, Fay. Let's get you home."

She immediately starts thrashing. "No! You can't take me home- he'll kill me. Oh god, he's going to kill me. Fuck."

"Okay. Okay, so, no going home." If he came home as shit-faced as Fay is right now (if he could even get drunk), his mom would probably kill him, too. "Where too, then? Kim's?"

She starts to nod, and he feels relief, until she starts shaking her head instead. "Jered's with her."

So let them both deal with you, he wants to say, then immediately feels guilty. He does actually like Fay; it's just been a long night already, and the idea of getting up early for school the next day is a daunting one.

He sighs again. "Alright then. Looks like you're coming home with me." When she doesn't immediately protest, he pulls her to her feet. She sways and almost immediately tips over, and he realizes that there's no way she's going to be able to walk all the way there- not while navigating the dark undergrowth.

He scoops her into his arms and starts down a direct path that should let him out just behind his house.

He thinks Fay might have fallen asleep because she's completely silent the entire way, only stirring when he has to maneuver her awkwardly to reach the door handle. He accidentally slams her legs into the doorframe before he figures out that he needs to walk through sideways.

"Sorry," he winces.

The girl in his arms only hums. "S'okay. M'used to worse."

"Worse like what?" he asks absently, trying to pick his way through the house without waking up his mother. She doesn't answer him, though. "I'm just going to put you in Leah's room, okay?"

She starts to squirm, and he's gotten so used to her placid deadweight that he almost drops her. "Nooooo, I can't go to Leah's room. What will she think? Whad'f I say something?"

"I'm sure she'll forgive you."

"No, you don't understand."

"So, explain it to me." But she just continues to squirm in mounting agitation. He's starting to get irritated. "Okay, okay, fine. No Leah's room. Is mine okay? Will you sleep in mine?"

Maybe she does have a problem taking his room, or maybe she can just sense his growing frustration, because she seems to grow smaller in his arms at the same time as she goes eerily still.

"Okay," she murmurs so softly he can hardly hear her. He changes directions and pushes into his room, flipping on the light with his elbow.

Fay winces away from the sudden brightness, and even Seth has to blink away dots as he crosses to his bed. He sets her on the edge of it and bends down to pull off her muddy shoes.

A discoloration draws his attention, and he pushes her pant leg up further to better see the slightly swollen skin. She must have twisted it at some point, probably when she was trying to find her way out there, but it doesn't look too bad.

"He thought I was leaving." The murmur comes so soft and slurred, that Seth almost doesn't hear. He wouldn't have, if it weren't for the aid of his wolf hearing.

He looks up, and feels a cold rush of ice in his veins. Because what he thought was a shadow across her face, is actually a purpling mark taking up the entirety of her cheekbone.

"What?" he breathes, all previous annoyance fleeing him. All he wants is her to keep talking- keep babbling.

"He got so angry," she moans, closing her eyes and tugging at her wet shirt that must be clinging uncomfortably. He backs up as she teeters to her feet; she sways, but doesn't fall. "He's always so angry."

"Who," he demands, and then spins away when she abruptly yanks her pants down. Then he realizes that she's still drunk, and his concern wins out over his embarrassment as he quickly turns back around to make sure she doesn't fall.

Fay seems entirely unconcerned when her pants get stuck around her ankles. Her fingers just start working the buttons on her shirt.

Seth wants to stop her, wants to sit her down and demand who gave her that bruise, but then she shrugs her shirt from her shoulders and he can't stop starting. Can't stop staring at the blue handprints encircling her upper arms, at the splattering of older bruises yellowing the entirety of her right side, at the fresh one across her shoulders he barely glimpses as she twists about, trying to rip her arms free of her shirt.

She cries out in pain and frustration when she can't pull herself free, and tears start streaming down her face.

Seth steps forward immediately, to either help her or cover her back up.

"Hold on," he tries for a soothing voice even though it shakes. But he doesn't get a chance to figure it out because, at that moment, she seems to lose her equilibrium and staggers back. Only, her feet are still tangled in her pants and they clothesline his as she tips backward.

Horror floods him as he lands on his sister's crying, half naked, fully drunk, girlfriend. Horror doesn't encompass the scope of feelings, though, of the unmitigated terror when he looks up to see said sister frozen in his open doorway.

All it takes is an instant. One moment. Leah had only come to investigate why her brother suddenly bailed, surprised to see his light on and hear other voices. It takes one moment for her to see her brother pinning her crying imprint to the bed- the bruises littering her body- and the incoherent, glazed, look in her eyes.

She blacks out.

"Leah- wait-" Seth tries to explain, tries to back away, but it's too late. Leah is on him in an instant, ripping him off with a roar. She should have shifted. Being this far gone- she should have shifted- but for some reason, she retains her human form as she slams her fists into Seth's face.

Sobriety jolts into Fay's system, weak and sluggish- but lit aflame by the cold iciness of fear, and she screams. "Leah! Leah- stop! It's not what it looks like!"

She doesn't listen. Seth doesn't even put up a fight. He can't. Leah holds him by the collar with one hand and slams her fist against his face with the other- over and over- until his legs collapse, but she only follows him to the ground still swinging.

Blood flies, spattering the floor, and all Fay can do is scream at Leah to stop. She doesn't listen.

The room spins dizzily, fast near her feet, slower by her head, and it's hard to get her thoughts together- hard to focus on anything other than Leah's rage, Seth's blood, and Fay's begging, "Please!" which seems to be the only thing she can think to say.

As suddenly as it started, it stops. Leah's hands tremble as they suddenly hover over her brother's unrecognizable face. Seth doesn't move. Doesn't make a sound. The only sound in the room is suddenly Leah's own gasping breath and Fay hyperventilating behind her.

The world abruptly returns to Leah, and she doesn't know how she got here. But her ears draw her gaze back, toward the girl on the bed. Fay doesn't seem relieved to finally have her attention, though, even though she's been calling for it.

She yelps, terrified, and scrambles back- toppling over the edge of the mattress.

"Fay," Leah croaks, jolting to her feet (she doesn't know why her throat feels raw).

Fay can't think- she can't think- instinct just says run, run, run, run, runrunrunrun- she bolts for the door, blinded by tears. She slams into a person on her way out, and then a wall, and then another wall as she ping-pongs herself out the front door and falls to her knees in the front lawn.

She vomits. It burns worse coming up out her nose. It clogs her airways. She can't breathe.

She can't think, either, but she knows she has to keep going. Away- away from Leah and her rage- her rage that could turn to Fay at a moment's notice.

She doesn't know where she's going until she's suddenly there; she doesn't know how she got there, but she's clutching her wet shirt closed over her body- like it can shield her from the night. She doesn't know what this pain in her chest it, but she thinks it feels a lot like heartbreak.

She collides with the windows before she starts pounding her fist against it. It's only natural that she find herself here. It seems she always ends up back here, where nothing bad has ever happened, can never happen- the only truly safe place that exists in the entire world.

"Kim," Fay sobs out when the window is throws open and the world tips further on its axis.

"Fay?" She sounds startled and scared, and Fay can't even process what a sight she must be- vomit smeared across her chin, drenched, pantsless, shirt falling half off, and bruised.

She bends double and throws up, again, in the bushes.

"Oh, god, Fay, what happened?!"

"Leah," Fay gasps, and that's all she seems to be able to say anymore. "Leah, Leah-"

Another person suddenly appears in Kim's window, looking out at the hyperventilating girl in the bushes. "Fuck," Jared curses, taking in her state. "Help me get her in here."

It's a difficult task- far more difficult than it has ever been before- but eventually, Fay finds herself crumpled on the floor getting wrapped up in blankets. All the while, she's unable to stop repeating, "Leah, Leah, Leah-"

Seth, kindness, then rage and blood- Leah-

Jared pulls on his clothes as Kim frets in front of her friend. A cold fear is spreading in her chest the longer her best friend remains unresponsive. She uses an old shirt to clean Fay's face- wiping at the snot and vomit. Her hand shakes, hovering over the bruise that wasn't there the last time she saw her friend.

Leah couldn't have… She wouldn't have. Leah would never do this to Fay- to her imprint. So, what happened to Leah?

"Jared," she says, voice tight.

"Seth and Leah were supposed to be on patrol tonight," he rambles, pulling a shirt over his head and moving quickly toward the window. "I'm going to stop by their house- figure out what happened."

Kim nods. "Yeah. Go. Call me when you find out."

"I will," he says, dropping a kiss on the top of her head before slipping away into the night. Leaving Kim with a broken, traumatized, and clearly drunk girl on her floor.


A/N: Okay. Let me have it. And go.

~Silver~