AN: Happy mother's day to all you mom's that think child imprinted is effed up. And to all of us who aren't moms who think it's weird, enjoy this one shot anyway,
Mistaken
Quil had taken one look at Claire and felt the pull. He had been phased for a bit, had heard all the legends. They called it imprinting. It was supposed to rare, it was supposed to be magical. It led you to your soul mate, the one that would walk with you through life. From boyhood, to wolfhood, and finally to manhood. The imprint was a woman that would strengthen you, guide you, help you. It was a beautiful thing, one that wasn't to be taken likely.
Claire was a two year old girl. Quil couldn't – wouldn't, ever – have sex with her. No matter how old she got, she'd still be nearly fifteen years his junior. He loved her, it was true. He just couldn't imagine laying in bed next to someone whose diapers he had changed.
With Sam and Jared around him, always in his head, he kept those thoughts to himself. They had imprinted on girls their own age and they were happy. They wouldn't understand his frustration. He didn't want to wait for her to be a woman. He didn't want to wait for her to grow up. He didn't want her.
ZZZ
Claire was tall for four years old. Really tall. She looked like she was around seven or eight, and her parents – Emily's sister, and brother in law – kept giving him odd looks. Her dad asked him one day if he was putting steroids in the little girls sippy cups. Quil had been offended, naturally, and had left early that day.
Claire's screams of "Qwil, no, pwease stay!" Had nearly broken his heart. Still, it was bad enough most of his neighbourhood thought he was an absolute creep without having to listen to her parents ask him if he was drugging his own damned imprint.
Once more, Quil cursed the bond that had tied him so deeply to a child. It had been two tortuous years since he had imprinted. Teething, potty training, teaching her how to use a fork. He felt more like a parent than anything else, and he knew he'd always feel that way.
He didn't care what his grandfather said. Claire was not the one for him. Twenty years from then, laying in bed with her, thinking of her in a bib. It was disgusting. More unnatural than him turning into a giant furball was. He was the same kind of person the tribal council would have thrown in jail, if he was a human. He wondered what it was about being a wolf that made everything he did okay.
He contemplated punching Billy in the face, just to see if he could get away with it. Wolf hormones, you know he thought to himself, silently they do strange things to my head. Sorry Billy!
He arrived back at Sam's house with a grin. Absently, he informed his alpha that the Young family thought he was pumping their youngest member full of drugs to make her grow up big and strong like him.
Quil had hoped he wouldn't still be phasing in twenty years' time. If he stopped, he'd be…not old, but oldish when Claire was finally ready. To him, that just made it even worse.
ZZZ
Emily had insisted on getting a dog. And what Emily wanted, Emily got. It was sort of a rule. As the mate of their alpha – their being his, Embry's, Jared's and Paul's…all the others were with Jacob – she outranked them.
She couldn't even use a fly swatter. As soon as the bugs started buzzing, they all dropped whatever it was they were doing to rush to her screaming aid.
Quil sighed and flicked Midnight – what a stupid name for a dog, he thought – in the nose, when the beast of a mutt snuffled at his plate. Whining in sadness, the mangy thing slunk across the room.
Midnight's nose touched a five year old Claire's leg, snuffled up to her knee, then finally onto the dinner tray her plate was on. The girl watched the dog curiously as it inched forward ever so slowly.
Midnight's nose touched the edge of Claire's plate; the girl growled. Low and dangerous in the back of her throat, complete with a rippling lip curl. Midnight backed away, tucked tail, and went to his bed.
Grinning, Paul spoke to Quil around a mouthful of muffins, "She spends way to much time with us wolves."
Laughing, Quil agreed.
ZZZ
At seven years old, Claire was the fastest in her grade. She had been recruited for their miniscule track team, and she was their star player. She excelled at basketball, at soccer, at gymnastics.
Bendy, quick, strong. She had broken into a fever merely weeks prior, and hadn't been able to see Quil for days it had been so bad. He had worried for his petite imprint – if he could call her that.
At seven, Claire had the body of an eleven year old. Long, lanky. She looked older than she was. It bothered Quil, if only because he had seen some older boys talking to her. They lived in such a small area, everyone knew everyone else. They should have known Claire was just a baby.
Her parents worried, and Emily bought them books. "Some kids just grow faster than others" She explained. "It'll stop soon." She wanted to use Nessie as an example, but that was…hardly the best one. Nessie was half vampire, one that grew alarmingly quick, who would stop when she hit a certain age.
Quil just wished he could tell Claire's parents about him being a wolf. It was getting harder and harder to lie, especially when Emily was aging while him and Sam didn't. He was twenty years old, and hanging out with a seven year old who looked to be a tween. Her parents weren't impressed, and he couldn't say he blamed them.
Quil began spending more time in the library. Anything about their legends, he poured over. Anything to find a way out of imprinting. He found nothing – nothing except that books were missing.
And where missing books were found, pages were torn out. He stole his grandfathers key to their family 'safe', snuck in at night. It was where the tribe kept important documents, documents they didn't want outsiders to see.
Inside of that safe, Quil found nothing.
Worried for himself and the small girl he called his soul mate, Quil packed her into his car and drove her to the hospital. He asked for Doctor Cullen directly. When the man came out and bent down to Claire's height, the little girl wrinkled her nose.
"You stink." She told him.
Carlisle cancelled his next three appointments and took Claire to a private room, Quil hot on his feet. He drew several vials of blood before sending Quil on his way with the little girl.
Quil brought Claire home that night, dizzy and drowsy, with needle marks on her arm. He tried explaining an emergency hospital visit, but "where are the bills? How could you afford this?"
Quil was told he wasn't allowed to see Claire ever, ever again. Expecting to feel pain, he felt relief. The pain came when Claire began to scream for him. As he drove away, the pain faded, and for the first time, he called Sam an asshole out loud.
It had been so easy to leave Claire there, crying in her parents' arms. How could it not have been easy for Sam to leave Emily?
ZZZ
Carlisle had assured him that he'd test the blood as soon as possible – but after hours, when the hospital was slower. He was worried she had a disease. It was rare, but there were children that were born with advanced growth. There wouldn't be anything they could do, but it would take the guess work out of it.
Carlisle called Quil's cell phone – not the house phone, Old Quil might've answered – and delivered odd news. "I'd like to bring Claire in for more testing. Some of these genes…There's human cells, and something else. Similar to Nessie's genetic make up, but we know Claire doesn't have any vampire in her. I just want to run some more tests."
The doctor sounded worried, so Quil packed his bag. He told his parents, his grandfather, that he was going on a trip. And then he went to Sam's. He quietly told his alpha that something was wrong with Claire, about Doc Cullen.
The Young family called Old Quil, to make sure young Quil was gone away. They hadn't believed Sam when he called and said Quil was leaving for a few weeks, when he told them that Emily missed Claire.
Lies in place, Sam drove to pick up his niece, never once telling his wife what he was going to do.
In the hospital room Claire had gotten sick enough that Quil had scooped her up and taken her back – to Jake's. Not even Sam would disturb them there, but all the wolves in both packs would know she was safe. Quil slept in Jacob's bed, curled protectively around Claire,
Back to the door, facing the window, the wolf fell asleep. The alpha of the second pack stayed awake on the couch all night, quietly keeping unwanted visitors away.
ZZZ
Claire was screaming. Her body hurt so fucking bad and her head and that smell.
Nessie Cullen's hands smoothed the russet skinned girls hair away from her face. Nessie's eyes were frantic as she looked up at Quil. "I – I didn't do anything, Mister Quil. I promise! I didn't bite her or…or anything."
The half vampire's eyes were full of tears, but Quil could only see his imprint. Writhing on the ground in pain. They had been playing wolf-tag in the woods, both packs, Nessie. It was supposed to be a birthday party, celebrating Claire's eighth. And now this.
His hands were running over her arms and legs, checking for snake or bugs bites. She hadn't fallen. She wasn't prone to seizures, never had been. So what the fuck was wrong.
Distantly, he heard Jacob and Sam. They were screaming for Nessie to get back, step away. He saw Emily's shoe out of the corner of his eyes, as Sam grabbed his wife, pulled her away. Am I going to phase? He thought numbly, watching as Claire's eyes rolled into the back of her head.
Snapping of bones. It looked like her flesh was ripping away from her body, rearranging itself. As skin peeled away, the tender meat and muscle below turned to fur. Inside out. Everything was backwards.
His could feel teeth and claws biting into him, as the little wolf struggled to get to its feet. She was a soft red, with long, shaggy fur. Big ears. Paws so large she tripped as she tried to run.
Claire had always known about the wolves, but now –
He felt the change ripple over him, uncontrollable. He was sliding over Claire, tongue against her soft puppy ears. He could hear growling, realized it was him. Deep and soothing, bubbling softly from within his chest.
The pup beneath him collapsed to the ground, whining softly in pain. He could see, through her eyes, his paws on either side of her head. His wolf was rumbling in his head, words and sounds of love.
Claire's wolf raised her own voice, telling Quil's wolf that she was hungry.
Emily had cheeseburgers, but they didn't smell all that good, so Quil nudged the she-pup to her feet and took off at a slow trot. It took several tries, but eventually, Claire got her paws beneath her and ran behind him.
That day, Quil taught Claire to hunt. He was the one to kill the deer, to drag her to the light red wolf. Still, he watched happily as she ate, surprised that the thought didn't disgust her – or him, for that matter.
The wolves inside their head – many now, as the pack had phased to keep an eye on them – were talking, almost amongst themselves, leaving their human parts out of it.
As Claire ate, she looked up at Quil with quiet, adoring eyes.
ZZZ
It was nearly six months after when Quil realized something. He noticed that Claire had only just become a wolfpup. They were walking side by side, a breakfast patrol – Sam gave Claire only one or two hours of patrol a day, always done with Quil – when it really hit him.
Claire had never imprinted on him.
A young, childlike giggle filled his mind, and he knew it to be Claire's wolf. He turned dark chocolate eyes towards he small, scraggly red wolf. Her nose was to the ground, snuffling and shooting loose dirt everywhere. She was looking for worms.
Quil decided he needed to do some more research.
ZZZ
" To fix firmly, as in the mind: He tried to imprint the number on his memory."
Imprinting. Ducks did it on their mothers – or rather, on the first thing they saw when they hatched. It engrained that image of that very first thing into one's memory, told it that that thing was safe.
Quil had been the first wolf Claire had ever met. Sam had to do an emergency patrol, had been unable to drive Emily to pick up her cousin. So Quil had driven her instead. Quil had felt the pull to Claire, as she had felt the pull to him.
For an entirely different reason.
At two years old, Claire had wolf blood in her – from her mother's side of the family. Emily's side of the family. Emily who was related to Leah and Seth, two actual wolves. Emily had never phased, but she had always lived close to wolves – had always been protected.
Claire, however, had lived off of their reservation. Around no other wolves. Her body was too small to phase, the transformation would have killed her. When she had seen Quil that very first day, her entire world shifted. He became the wolf that would teach her, lead her to her place in the pack.
He taught her how to use the potty, how to hold a fork, how to brush her teeth.
He taught her how to kill a deer, how to sniff out a vampire, and the best way to sneak up on a vampire.
Claire and imprinted on Quil the very first day she saw him – and now she was becoming a woman, at eighteen years old, an adult. She no longer needed Quil to guide her through life.
Claire was growing up. Showing interest in other men, and Quil…He was finding interest in women again. It had taken a long time, but he had finally realized. Claire wasn't the one, she had just been his priority.
Pack Pride had drawn him to the youngest, to the weakest, and with time as well as effort, Quil had helped her grown, helped her be strong. She was ready to leave, to be her own wolf, her own woman. Claire was ready to leave Quil behind.
Arm around his girlfriend – a woman his own age, with a son of her own – Quil grinned. He was pretty sure he was okay with being left behind. He was, after all, an aging wolf. Tweaking her nose, he told Claire to mind her elders, and watched her slide into her car – one that Jacob and Embry had redone – and drive away.
Lips against his girlfriend's hair, heart happy, Quil closed his eyes. Yeah. He was definitely okay with that.