Fessing Up
There were always challenges to being a werewolf.
There were the expected challenges of keeping secrets, secrets about being a werewolf in the first place, secrets about the supernatural world the pack helped keep in check, and pack secrets that needed to be kept from everyone else. Basically, they all knew too much about everything, and everyone.
But then, as an imprinted werewolf... Well, the challenges multiplied.
There was the obvious challenge of balancing out the demands of patrol duty with the demands of the heart, not a simple feat when your entire being was pledged to two separate entities at once. Then there was the more difficult challenge of keeping matters of the heart secret from the rest of the pack (unless, of course, you didn't mind sharing).
But for Quil, the challenges went well beyond all that.
Having imprinted on Emily's niece at the tender age of two, Quil was faced with the rather extraordinary challenge of knowing exactly who he was meant to be with...and never being sure when he'd get to see her again. Claire didn't live on the Quilleute reservation. Claire's parents had never heard of the Quilleute werewolves, never mind of their imprinting, nor were they allowed to know. And Quil had duties to the pack that bound him to La Push, Claire or no Claire.
That first summer, when Claire was still two, Emily had made it a point to have her niece come to visit often, for Quil's sake. It made her sister's life easier as well, not having to worry about childcare while she tried to juggle marriage, career and motherhood all at once. But the arrangement could never be permanent. The commute alone was hardly worth the free childcare.
Claire started preschool when she was three, and Quil went from seeing her every day, to once a week when Emily had her sister over for dinner.
Then Claire started school, and ballet lessons, and the visits dropped down to once a month at best.
Quil never complained. There wasn't much he could do, other than lend his support and friendship in whatever way he was allowed. And for the most part, that was enough for him. Claire was growing up happy and healthy, relatively sheltered from all the weirdness in his own day to day life. She was safe, she was loved. What more could he ask?
But as Claire grew, it wasn't just the separation that challenged Quil anymore. Where it had been easy to be everything Claire needed when she was very, very small, it was much more difficult finding his footing with her as she grew and matured. Some visits were more challenging than others.
Claire had her first crush when she was just six years old, on a boy in her class. She proudly announced to everyone in hearing that she was going to marry Toby when she was all grown up, and Quil thought he might be sick.
At nine she was an outspoken little thing, with opinions on everything and comments that could only be described as cringe-worthy. Her mother looked perpetually embarrassed, and even Quil, who could never think poorly of Claire, had to wince.
At twelve she went to her first school dance, and sent pictures to Emily of herself and a boy (not Toby), dancing a slow dance. Quil knew she needed to experience this, to learn about herself and the world around her, but looking at her face gazing back at the boy, all he could think was that he'd really like to hide from some of her experiences.
By the time she was a teenager, Quil had taken to hiding from her, just a little. Every time she mentioned another boy, another crush, another dance, another kiss, he died a little bit inside. Emily would cast him sympathetic looks, patting his hand every so often, reminding him afterwards that this was allnormal, and healthy for her. Jacob tried to sympathize as well, but Quil wasn't convinced he really understood, given that his imprinted mate had started referring to him as "My Jacob" by six months old.
Claire liked him, he could tell that much, but she was growing more distant with each passing year. It became rarer and rarer that she'd laugh at his jokes, or confide in him about anything at all that was going on in her life. She'd poke holes in his opinions, challenge him, egg him on and bait him in every instance she could, but it wasn't quite the same. The warmth and camaraderie were replaced by competition and empty banter, and more than anything, Quil missed those rare and perfect moments when she used to sit beside him in silence, looking out over the water, or gazing up into the canopy of trees. And as the years passed and everyone else's relationships flourished, Quil felt very left behind.
So when she announced at sixteen that she was spending the summer with Sam and Emily, Quil didn't have much hope of spending any more time with her than he would if she was simply visiting here and there with her mom.
Claire took a job at the convenience store for the summer, dividing her time between working to earn spending money, getting to know the other kids in La Push, and helping Emily with her own kids.
Sam and Emily would invite Quil for dinner sometimes, or to the beach, but nothing seemed any different. For all that he'd been part of her life for the last fourteen years, she hardly seemed to notice him at all anymore unless it was to poke fun at something he'd said or criticize something he'd done.
The summer was nearly over when Quil found himself sitting alone on a log, staring desolately out over the water, the sounds of chattering, laughing families in the background nothing more than a cruel reminder of everything he might never have now. It had always been a little hard watching the other wolves gaze adoringly at their mates, knowing he'd have to wait years to do the same. Harder still was watching them start families, and watching those families grow. As most of the other wolves chose to stop phasing in order to age with their families, Quil was left feeling more alone than ever. Always the straggler, he thought, but then, even that would have been fine if only Claire would show some sort of preference for his company. She never did, and Quil was beginning to wonder if he'd be the only imprinted werewolf who'd forever be alone.
He sat so long, the chattering and laughing faded as families left the beach for the day. He didn't care. Unlike everyone else, he didn't have anywhere in particular to be, or anything in particular to do. And he certainly didn't have anyone in particular waiting for him back at home.
His senses prickled as someone approached, but he ignored whoever it was. He was tired of his friends' sympathy, anyway.
Wordlessly, the willowy figure sat down on the driftwood beside him, looking out to the ocean, the sun glinting off the waves. The beach was almost empty; everyone else had gone home for dinner.
"You always look so sad," she said after a while, glancing quickly at his face before looking back to the water. "How come?," she asked.
He glanced at Claire, then shook his head. "It's a long story," he muttered with a shrug.
"Is it a good story?" she asked, nudging his shoulder.
"I don't know," Quil replied softly. "It seemed like a good story, at first, but then...I don't know." He shrugged again. "Shouldn't you be heading back to Emily's place?," he asked, trying to change the subject.
"So, what's her name?," she asked, ignoring him.
"Whose name?," he replied, startled.
"I'm assuming there was a girl," Claire pressed.
"Still is," Quil answered carefully.
"Ok. So what's her name?"
"I'll tell you when you're older," he snorted, looking back to the water.
"What'd she do?"
"She didn't do anything."
"Well, what did you do?"
"Tried to be a friend, I guess."
"And you don't like being her friend?"
"No," said Quil, frowning. "It's not that. It's just...being her friend isn't always easy."
"Because you love her?"
"It's complicated."
"More complicated that Abby's on-again off-again romance with the college freshman?"
"Must have missed that story," he said, half-apologetically.
"You should just tell her."
"Tell her what?"
"That you love her."
"I don't think that would help."
"Why not?"
"It's complicated."
"You're afraid."
"It's not the right time."
"Is she with someone else?"
"No," he said, frowning.
"Is she away somewhere, travelling or something?"
"No."
"Is she mad at you?"
"No."
"I think the timing's fine."
Quil sighed. "You wouldn't understand," he said.
"Well, try me!," she challenged. "I might surprise you."
Quil looked at her, studying her more intently than he had in a very long time. She seemed sincere, if still a bit young. Though, technically, he was frozen at sixteen as well... Not that he looked it anymore. Or felt it. Hell, he taught kids a lot closer to her age in the La Push elementary school.
"Claire, this isn't something you can help with," he replied.
"I think I might understand the female mind better than you," she answered tartly.
"Probably," Quil smiled.
"So, tell me what's wrong. Maybe I can help you figure it out."
"Why?," he asked. It was a challenge, he knew, and a dangerous one. It was one thing to think she was never going to be interested, it would be another to have it confirmed. This was surely just a game to her.
Her brow furrowed. "You used to be a lot more fun, when I was little."
That surprised him. "You remember that?"
"Of course!," she replied indignantly. "You were the only one who would play dress-up with me, or go along with all my crazy make-believe games. That's not something a kid forgets."
Quil smiled again. "All right. So you're hoping that by fixing my love life, I'll be more fun again?," he asked, a little wryly.
"Emily's worried about you," she tried.
Quil sighed. "I know."
"And if Emily worries, Sam worries."
"I know that too," Quil replied.
"That's getting to be a lot of worried people for just one girl. Are you sure she's worth all the trouble?"
Quil chuckled darkly. "Maybe someday you'll find someone who changes everything for you, and you'll understand," he answered. The sorrow he felt at the idea tore at him, but he couldn't let it show. He couldn't let his own grief wound her.
"Well, I think you're being selfish," she announced.
"What?," Quil demanded.
"I think you're being selfish," she repeated. "If the timing is so wrong, and everything is so complicated, then you need to let her go and move on. You're hurting everyone around you, moping around like this. And if you're just making excuses, delaying when you should be acting, then you're hurting her as well. Either way, you're being selfish."
Quil was stunned beyond words. What the hell had happened to make her sound so grown-up? He felt winded by the truth of her accusation.
"Do you trust me?," he asked suddenly, an idea beginning to form.
"Of course," she said.
"All right. Stay there, and watch those trees," he said, pointing. It probably wasn't the best idea, but if he could tell her part of the truth, maybe they could reach some sort of understanding.
Glancing around the beach once more to make sure they were truly alone, he walked off into the woods, quickly stripping out of his clothes and securing them to his leg. Then, he phased.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Quil eased himself back out of the woods, walking as calmly as he could toward the girl on the driftwood.
Claire bolted to her feet, eyes wide with fright, and Quil paused, dropping down to his belly, head on his paws. She watched him carefully, alarm written all over her features, trying to assess the situation. Quil stayed as still as he could, watching her in return.
"Quil?," she whispered softly, glancing into the trees. The giant wolf raised his head.
She gasped, staggering back a pace and tripping over the log. Quil lowered his head back to his paws. Claire stood, studying him more closely.
"Quil?," she asked again, this time looking straight at him. He twitched his ears, watching her as intently as she was watching him.
"Can you understand me?," she breathed, eyeing the great wolf. Quil smiled his best wolfy smile, and nodded once.
She took a tentative step forward, then stopped. Quil cocked his head to the side, waiting.
"Is that really you?," she asked, disbelief in every word. Quil nodded again.
"Ok. I'm starting to understand how things in your life might be complicated."
Quil laughed a short, wolfy laugh.
"Is this why you can't tell her?," she asked, taking a tentative step closer. Quil shook his giant head no.
"But this is part of the complication, right?"
Quil hesitated, then nodded his head yes. Imprinting on someone so young was definitely a werewolf complication.
Claire gingerly closed the distance between them, curiosity winning out over fear.
"You're happier like this," she said. It wasn't a question. Quil stood, towering over her slight frame.
"Whoa," she breathed. Quil chuckled again. Claire reached a tentative hand up to touch the fur on his neck, and Quil leaned toward her. She smiled, stroking the soft fur, probably not realizing just how good it felt to the giant wolf. After a moment, she paused.
"I've heard this story," she said with some surprise. Quil nodded.
"Your brothers. Sam, Jacob, Embry, Seth, Paul, Jared. They're all wolves too?," she breathed. Again, he nodded. Some day he would need to explain to her that they weren't all really brothers, but as the more senior wolves, they'd needed to tell her something in the early days to explain why they were always around. The others had always stayed at the periphery of her awareness, which was fine by everyone. Their family was weird enough as it was.
"Does Emily know?," she squeaked. Quil chuckled and nodded.
"What about Kim? And Rachel?," she asked. "What about their kids?" Again, he nodded.
"Does everyone in La Push know?"
He shook his head no.
She paused, contemplating that. "Why let me in on the secret?," she asked, bemused.
He couldn't answer, but he could see her mind working.
"Is it because I'm family? Because I'm Emily and Sam's niece?," she asked. He hesitated, torn between protecting her and telling her the truth. Slowly, he shook his head no.
"Is it just because I won't stop pestering you?," she asked, a slight waver to her voice. Again, he shook his head no.
The pieces were falling into place, he could see it. It was only a matter of time. She knew the stories. They'd made sure of it. But what would she make of them now, knowing that they were true? What would she do when she learned her role in them, her centrality to his own story?
"Quil," she asked hesitantly, "Am I the girl?"
He could see the worry on her face, and it cut like a knife. But he couldn't lie. Not for this. Slowly, sombrely, he nodded.
"Oh," she said, her shoulders slumping.
Here it was, he thought. The moment of truth.
Quil sighed, lowering himself back down. He'd been dreading this moment for years.
She watched him carefully, gauging his reaction, trying to understand.
"You're sad again," she said. Quil didn't move. Claire crouched down just in front of his nose, studying him. "You're sad because of me."
Quil started to shake his head no, to deny the truth for the sake of her own feelings, but she stopped him. Two small hands held his giant head still, her eyes never leaving his own.
"Quil," she asked, "Do you love me?"
In a million different ways, he thought sadly, but all he could do was nod.
"Oh," she said again.
In his human form, he could have reassured her that he didn't expect her to feel the same. In his human form, he could have glossed over the depth of his feelings for her, could have belittled the legends she knew so well, making the finer points of his reality into little more than just another fairy tale. In his human form, he could have absolved her sense of guilt for hurting him, because her happiness was, would always be, more important than his own. But he wasn't in his human form, and he couldn't very well phase back with her watching.
She sat down, less than an inch from his nose, and absently played with the fur at his cheek. He loved the feel of her hand in his fur, but he fought to stifle the thought.
"You didn't have a choice, falling in love with me, did you?," she asked softly. He shook his head no.
"And I've always chosen everyone other than you," she smiled wryly. He chose not to respond to that.
"Yours is the forever kind of love, isn't it?," she asked, understanding the problem. He nodded once.
"I'm really sorry, Quil," she whispered, and his heart sank. "You've always been so sweet, and I've been, I don't know, a terror, I guess," she shrugged helplessly. "You must wish you could hate me."
Sad though he was, he shook his head no. He could never wish that.
"I'm the selfish one," she said, meeting his eyes. "You've always tried to be a friend, and I've done nothing but make your life more difficult. I'm so sorry."
Quil shook his head, and shifted to start backing into the woods. He needed his human form. He needed to be able to speak.
Claire froze, watching him back away from her, watching him disappear among the trees. The sun was low on the horizon, long shadows filling the beach. A cool wind whipped off the ocean, making her shiver, and Quil hated to leave her alone long enough to phase, but he had to. He had to make this right. Pulling his clothes back on as quickly as he could, he jogged back to where he'd left her, sitting pensively in the sand.
"You're not selfish," he said, emerging from the woods. "You're young. There's a difference."
"You're hurting, Quil, and it's not just because I'm young."
"No. Not just because you're young," he confirmed.
"Do you wish it wasn't me? Is there someone else...," she trailed, at a loss.
Quil smiled sadly. "It's more like I wish imprinting worked both ways," he explained. "You see, I've known since the day we met what my feelings for you would always be. But I've never been sure of your feelings for me. It doesn't exactly come with guarantees."
Claire frowned. "So you're sad because you think I don't care about you? That I won't love you in return, someday?"
"Yeah," Quil confessed, digging his hands into his pockets. It was more honesty than he had planned, but there it was. "I'm not your type, Claire. I'm nothing like any of those other boys," he said, looking away. "And I should be ok with that. Anything that makes you happy. But you're right. I'm selfish. I want what the others have. I just don't think it's meant to be."
"Isn't the whole point of imprinting that it is meant to be?"
"There are a few different theories about that, but no, it has nothing to do with fate. You're not destined to choose me just because I imprinted on you. You have an actual choice here. It doesn't have to be me."
"Does that happen often, that someone doesn't choose...?"
"Honestly, we don't know," Quil said, shrugging. "When we all changed, imprinting was thought to be more of an exception than a norm. But then almost all of us imprinted within the first year of changing, and we had to start questioning a lot of the old assumptions."
"But the rest of your brothers," she asked, "they all won over the girls they imprinted with, didn't they?"
"Yes," Quil confessed.
"But you think I'll be different."
"I don't know," he said. "The only other wolf to imprint on a child was Jacob, and Renesmee was a bit of a special case. She hardly let him out of her sight."
"Why did her parents allow that?," Claire asked. "My mom would kill me if I brought you home and said I was never letting you go again."
"Let's just say Renesmee is a part of the supernatural world as well," Quil answered wryly. "Her parents are pretty used to weird."
"Ok. Well, mine aren't," Claire stated firmly. "And as it is, you and I have always walked the line between what they're willing to accept, and what they won't. As much as they love visiting with Emily and Sam, they've always found it a little weird how involved you are with the family. Most younger brothers don't hang around their older brothers that much, and even fewer want to spend endless hours playing dress-up and make-believe with their sister-in-law's niece." She shook her head, ordering her thoughts.
"Believe it or not," she continued, "I still remember how much I looked up to you as a kid. I still remember how much I loved being with you, and how safe and important you always made me feel. I'm sure if I'd had it my way, you would have been part of my everyday life. But my parents didn't think that was such a good idea. They worked tirelessly to make me understand that, while it was very kind of you to spend so much of your time with me, I was making a nuisance of myself. They drilled me to give you space, and let you do all the grown-up things you should be doing. And they made me understand that as much as I idolized you, you would never, ever see me as anything more than a very demanding child. So I started ignoring you, and then baiting you. I went out of my way to be rude, to test just how much you would put up with before cutting me out of your life for good."
"Claire, I had no idea," Quil breathed. Claire held her head high, but her lower lip trembled, and he could see her eyes glistening in the fading light. "Come here," he said, drawing her close for a hug. "I'm sorry," he murmured against her hair, a soft sob escaping against his chest. "So sorry," he repeated tenderly, holding her tight.
They stood entwined together while the sun dipped below the horizon, the day fading inevitable into night, until Quil, sensing an easing in Claire's emotions, at last pulled away, gently wiping the last of her tears with his thumb.
"What happens now?," she asked, sniffling.
"I get you back to Emily before she starts to worry," he smiled.
"That's not what I meant," Claire said.
"I know," Quil answered, putting his arm around her waist as he started to lead her from the beach.
"So, are we together now?," she frowned, trying to make sense of the change that had just taken place between them.
"Not yet," he answered gently, hoping she wouldn't be upset. "I may have stopped aging fourteen years ago, but I'm still too old for you, at least for now."
"Where does that leave us?," she tried again.
"Exactly where we're supposed to be. Friends, for now."
"Friends?," she questioned. She sounded disappointed.
"For now," he reiterated. "And when you're ready," he said, glancing down to her face, "I mean, really ready," he amended, seeing the challenge in her eyes, "then we can be more."
"I've already waited a very long time for you," she countered. "And I think you're wrong about imprinting. I think it does happen on both sides."
Quil smiled at her response. "Claire, when you're older, and we're more than just friends, I'll be leaving the supernatural behind," he explained. "We need to think a little about practicalities, here. I've finished my education, and have a decent job. Now it's your turn."
"You won't be a wolf anymore?," she frowned.
"No. I'll stay human, to age with you."
"Have all the others...?"
"Almost all," he sighed. "A few haven't found their mates, and they'll stay wolves until they do. And Jacob...well, his mate will live indefinitely, so he'll stay a wolf as long as he needs to, to be by her side. But the rest of us," he said, and it wasn't without a note of sadness, "the rest of us give it up to live normal lives with our families."
"You'll miss it," she said.
"Not as much as I'd miss you," he countered. "Especially now that I know you have feelings for me too," he added, relief and happiness making him almost giddy as they walked up the road toward Emily's house.
"I'm sorry I made you doubt it," she answered, embarrassed.
"I'm sorry I questioned the eventuality of it all. You're right. It worked out for everyone else. Why question that it would work out with you?"
"Well, you know, it's probably better not to take these things for granted," she said, smiling up at him.
"Probably," he agreed, mesmerized.
"You know, Emily's having a lot of trouble with those boys of hers," Claire said, changing topic abruptly. "I might have to talk to my parents about spending more time in La Push, helping her out."
"You know, I've heard her say that she wouldn't know what she would do without you," Quil agreed.
"Right," Claire said. "So that's settled."
Quil grinned. "Yeah, settled," he agreed. "Though we may need to explain to Emily just how desperate she is for help," he added a few moments later. "You know, for back-up."
"That's a good idea," Claire replied. "Mom has a hard time saying 'no' to Aunty Emily."
"Right," said Quil, grinning at her. "So what are we waiting for?"
Claire smiled. "On three?," she asked.
"Three," Quil said, and he took off at a slow lope, Claire hot on his heels as they raced back to Emily's house to tell her the news.
