I know original characters aren't to everyone's tastes, but since Seth didn't imprint in the books I've had some free rein here. That being said, let me reassure you - this is, and always will be, a Seth/Edward story. Also, just a reminder that this is an AU story - I've taken some (small) liberties with Quileute/wolfpack canon.
Musical inspiration/playlist for this chapter: U2's Unforgettable Fire.
Kingdoms Afar
"I think that's the last one," I said as I slid the cardboard box onto the deck of my truck. Sweat was beginning to bead on the back of my neck, my t-shirt wet and sticking to my chest.
I felt Melissa's arms wrap around my waist, a cold beer appearing in front of me like magic. My girl had a knack for knowing exactly what I needed.
"Eww, Seth! You don't smell so good," she laughed as she pulled away from me.
I spun around as I took a long swig from the bottle.
"What do you expect? I've been hard at work all day, baby. Worked up quite a sweat packing up all your girly shit."
"My stuff is not "shit", thank you very much," she said, with her hands on her hips in mock disgust. "And it's not me that insists we own every kitchen appliance known to man."
She was probably right. It had taken me a fucking long time to pack up the contents of our kitchen.
"What can I say? I like to cook, and I like kitchen gadgets. I don't see you complaining when I cook dinner for you every night." I chuckled and then pulled her into a bear hug, deliberately rubbing my sweat-stained shirt against the side of her head. She shrieked, swatting me with her hand, but I just pulled her tighter and left a long, sloppy kiss on her forehead.
She shot me a dirty look, making a show of wiping her head before letting out a dramatic sigh. It soon dissolved into giggles, just as I knew it would. She never seemed to tire of my silly jokes. I winked at her as I drained the rest of the bottle, wishing we didn't have to get on the road straight away.
"I'll go lock up," she said over her shoulder as she headed back up the steps of the apartment building.
It only took a few minutes to pull the cover over the back of the truck and secure the tie-downs. Melissa ran back down the steps just as I finished.
"Ready?" I asked her.
She sighed. "It just feels weird."
"I know." I pulled her into the comfort of my arms. It did feel weird. Seattle had been home for the past six years, and now we were leaving. No more college, no more study, no more exams. The thought that we were now free to do whatever we pleased was both exhilarating and terrifying.
I cradled her face in my hands, gazing into her deep blue eyes as I rubbed my thumb over the little scar on her chin. It never ceased to amaze me to see the love I felt for her reflected back at me.
"It doesn't have to be forever. If you're not happy there, we can move somewhere else, OK?"
I would move to the other side of the globe if that was what she wanted.
I tucked her long hair behind her ear as she nodded, watching her eyes sparkle as she smiled at me. She was so fucking beautiful -even in her oldest t-shirt and jeans with holes in the knees. She could wear an old sack and I would still think she was the loveliest thing I'd ever seen. Sometimes, it seemed like the stars must have taken up home in her eyes they shone so bright, and every time she smiled I was filled with the most overwhelming warmth; like sweetest comfort all wrapped up in perfection. Melissa was perfection...
..and I had the inner monologue of a fifteen-year-old lovestruck girl. It was definitely time to get going.
"I'm just being nostalgic. Let's go already," she said as if reading my mind.
She climbed into the truck, but I caught the wistful glance up at the window on the fourth floor. I could almost see the memories flashing before her eyes.
I could understand why she was hesitant about moving to the Peninsula. We had been happy here; and to an extent, I shared some of her reluctance to leave the apartment where we had created so many special memories together. Unfortunately, the harsh reality was that we needed to find jobs, move on from being penniless students. Real life started today.
As anxious as she might have been about moving away, I also knew there was a huge part of her that couldn't wait for us to start our new life together. It was going to be fucking great to be free from all the pressure of college and just be a normal couple doing normal couple stuff. I never thought I'd actually be excited about the prospect of settling down; but the truth was, I'd be happy doing anything as long as she was by my side.
Unexpectedly, I had been offered work at a small law firm in Forks, where I had volunteered one summer. It wasn't the multimillion-dollar law firm in a city high-rise that I had dreamed about working for when I had first enrolled in law school, but it was a job, and it would pay the bills. I was hoping that, once I got some experience under my belt, I might be able to offer some pro bono work out at La Push. Melissa called it community spirit or some shit like that. I just knew it was something Dad would have wanted me to do.
We were going to live with Mom until we found a place of our own, either in Forks or down at the coast. It wasn't quite what I had thought I would be doing once I finished college, but somehow working in the city no longer held the same appeal for me.
An insistent, nagging feeling deep in my guts had been eating away at me for a couple of years. I'd done my best to push it away, ignore it and just get on with my study, but the longer I'd stayed away, the more it pulled. It needed me to go back. When the job offer had come, the decision had been a no-brainer. Melissa wanted to travel, and we needed work and money in order to do that, so back to La Push we were headed.
I sighed, my mind heavy with a strange mix of comfort and trepidation, and started the truck to drive us home.
"Seth." Sam patted my shoulder and pulled me into a half-hug. I had spent a good portion of my teenage years resenting him, but I had to admit it was good to see him. I hadn't been home for more than a fleeting weekend or two over the past few years, and it was obvious some things had changed while I'd been gone. Sam seemed to have mellowed; the hardness around his eyes was gone, and his smile when he greeted me was warm and genuine.
Sam wasn't the only one who had changed. I kissed Emily on the cheek - well as much as I could reach around her huge belly.
"You guys have been busy, I see," I grinned at her.
She laughed. "Due in six weeks."
It was with a pang of guilt that I realized I hadn't even known she was pregnant.
"You look great," I said, awkwardly.
"Oh, please. I look like a whale!" she laughed. "You and your missus...Melissa?..." I nodded as she hesitated, "...you're not doing the kid thing, yet?"
"Um..No!" I choked out. Jesus, I was only 24. Babies were not something I was planning anytime soon. Even the thought of it...just no. I shook my head - I didn't think I had been gone that long. I might have come home a married man, but that didn't mean I was ready to start procreating like Sam obviously had.
She smiled at me as if knowing what I was thinking. "I'll leave you guys to talk. It's been a long time."
I could hear her bustling about in the kitchen, turning the kettle on and banging about in the pantry. It was a comforting sound, reminding me of nights spent at their house with my pack. Something I hadn't realized until now that I had missed.
"It's good to be back," I said quietly.
It was good to be home again. It was taking some adjusting to be living out in the quiet of La Push, but I couldn't say I particularly missed the noise and smoke of the city. It was hard to have misgivings about coming back when everything had a soothing familiarity.
Sam turned to me, his expression suddenly serious. "It's good to have you back, Seth."
I got the feeling there was something else he was trying to say. He stared at his feet for a moment, before raising his eyes to mine. He looked almost apologetic.
"The pack is reforming."
That was not what I expected to hear. At all.
"There are leeches in town, again."
The ground flew by in a dizzying blur of green and brown under my paws. I couldn't hear anything but the blood thundering in my ears, and the roar of the air as it rushed past me.
I hurtled through the forest, enjoying the burn of muscles that hadn't been used in too long. I pushed myself even harder. Faster.
It hurt, but it felt so fucking good.
Adrenaline surged through me, making me feel like I was invincible. I was high, flying through the trees on cloud-fucking-nine.
Jesus, Seth! How long has it been since you phased?
Yeah, man. You're going to do some damage if you keep this pace up.
Fuck, I couldn't even remember when I had last phased. Two years? Three? It had certainly been a very long time since I'd had to worry about someone being in my head - the sudden intrusion of voices that weren't mine made me feel faint and off-balance for a moment.
I sucked in a deep breath of air through my muzzle, slowing down so the others could catch up with me. I was panting hard, my tongue hanging from my mouth, my fur slick with the rain that had been gently falling since we'd taken off into the woods.
Paul appeared first, his dark silver coat appearing almost black as he emerged from the mist that clung to the trees around us. Sam was close behind him.
Sorry. It's been awhile. Feels good.
It felt strange to be projecting my thoughts for others to pull from the ether. The lack of privacy was something I'd never really been able to accept, but there was little I could do about it. It was simply part of being in the pack, annoying as it was.
OK. I think Seth has pushed us far enough for today. Let's circle back around and head home.
Paul and I grunted our agreement and we turned, galloping into the trees again, heading in the direction of the coast.
As we made our way home, I couldn't help but think about how good, natural even, it felt to be back in the woods where I had spent so many hours on patrol during my teenage years. The smell of the fir trees in my nostrils, the feel of the damp earth under my paws, the taste of fresh air.
The wolf had been sleeping for too long.
Unbidden, memories of telling Melissa the truth of who I was flashed through my mind. At first she had laughed, convinced I was playing some sort of sick practical joke on her. Shock had given way to disbelief and then, for a moment, she'd been worried I had some sort of mental illness. I hadn't blamed her for thinking of it. Just saying it out loud to someone made me feel like I was talking crazy. In the end, I had offered to show her.
The look of pure terror on her face as she took in my wolf form had haunted me for months. I'd gone behind a tree to change and phase, and when I'd come out she had panicked, scrambling away from me, looking like she was either going to vomit or pass out. I was devastated, and knew I would rather die than see her look at me that way again.
I never, ever wanted to see that kind of fear in her eyes, or have her run away from me.
We never spoke of it again.
After that, I had gone up to the National Park on my own. It had been unsettling to make the change and to be so utterly alone. The rest of the pack were too far away; their thoughts silent to me. For the first time, I had found being a wolf a lonely experience. The joy was gone and eventually, my trips got farther apart, till one day I simply realized I no longer felt the craving to phase. Sam told me it was about the same time that the pack disbanded. There was no longer any need for patrols when the C...
I'm sorry, Seth.
Sam's voice cut through my thoughts, his tone apologetic. I could see he was trying to imagine how much it would hurt him to keep this part of his life from Emily. Even though the scars she bore on her face were a daily reminder of the danger he presented, she had never feared him, and had certainly never rejected this part of him.
It's fine, Sam. Don't worry about it.
The fact that the pack was reforming was a complication I hadn't considered when we moved back home. I wasn't sure how I was going to manage my commitments to my pack, while at the same time, ensuring it didn't impact on my relationship with my wife.
We'll be patrolling every night from now on. You OK with that?
Sure, I responded automatically. It wasn't like I had a choice, anyway.
I woke with a start, drenched in a cold sweat that made my skin clammy in the cold night air. Gulping in mouthfuls of air, I could feel my stomach turning with emotions so raw and sharp I couldn't even name them. My mind was spinning, unease settling against my bones.
I slipped out of bed, glancing at my wife's slumbering form, before I padded downstairs. The glass of water did little to calm me, but it gave my shaking hands something to do for a moment.
Before I realized what I was doing, I was out the door, running into the woods behind the house. I phased as I sped into the trees, not caring that I shredded my t-shirt and boxers in the process.
I just needed to run. Hard.
My muscles were already strained from patrolling earlier with Sam and Paul, but I pushed through the pain, letting my wolf form gallop through the woods at full speed.
But no matter how fast or how far I ran, I couldn't escape the honey-colored eyes that had haunted my dream.
His eyes.
My other life, the one I never dared think of, threatened to spill out of the corner of my heart, where I had kept it locked away in secret for so long. I couldn't think of him now. I had a wife - who I loved more than my own life - sleeping in my bed, blissfully unaware I was out in the wilderness fighting demons I thought long buried.
The guilt made me run even harder, and I filled my head with images of Melissa; on our wedding day in Vegas, both of us wearing jeans and sunglasses and face-splitting grins; her sweet laughter as I told her one of my lame-ass jokes; her beautiful blue eyes gazing at me with adoration as I made love to her. Images and thoughts of love. Of Melissa.
Eventually, exhaustion began to eat away at me and I stopped by a small stream, bending down to lap at the freezing mountain water. I'd been running aimlessly for hours, and it was only after I had finished drinking that I realized where I was.
A few minutes later, I found myself standing on our ridge, overlooking the Elwha river. The moon was full and hung low in the sky, casting an eerie silver light over the landscape.
Hesitantly, I paced across the ground, feeling almost like I was an intruder, and that it was wrong for me to be up here. I hadn't intended to come up here, but now that I was standing on the ridge, it was almost as if this was exactly where I was meant to be. It felt strange; everything looked exactly the same, yet it felt like a lifetime ago that I had last stood here gazing out over the valley below me.
Fuck.
I couldn't hold back any longer, and suddenly I was rooting in the dirt, sniffing at the trees, running my muzzle along the upturned log where he had once sat. Frantically, I sucked in the night air, hoping to catch his scent, desperate for something, anything that would prove to me that it all hadn't been just a dream. That it had been real. That he was real. That this fucked up feeling in my chest was real.
But there wasn't a trace of him.
Even covering the clearing twice didn't give me anything. He was gone from here. I howled at the sky, letting my frustrations, and whatever the hell else it was that I was feeling, fly into the night air. My call echoed across the valley, the moon cold and uncaring, silently shining back at me.
Defeated and empty, I turned and left, intending to return home. As I ran, Sam's words from earlier in the day echoed over and over in my mind.
There are leeches in town, again.
I had to know. I had to know if he was back. Not that I knew what the fuck I would do if he was, but I couldn't go home without an answer. I had to know.
I took off into the trees, heading for the one place I never thought I would ever see again; the Cullen house.
The scent of every vampire is unique. They all smell sickly sweet, like rotting fruit, but as a wolf I could tell them all apart just from the subtle differences in their smell. I knew that I shouldn't be going there; that I was violating the same agreement that would have me out patrolling every night for the foreseeable future. But it wasn't like I was going to have to get right up to the house or knock on the door at 3am or anything. I'd only have to be in the general vicinity of the house to catch a scent trail in the woods. They wouldn't even find out I had been out here until after I was well gone.
Despite the throbbing in my limbs and the burn of my muscles, I pushed on, driven by something that ached deep inside me. Soon, I was in the woods that bordered Forks, the Cullen house a little over a mile away.
Jesus, I was pathetic. If Sam knew I was out here he'd have my hide, but even knowing that, I couldn't stop. Not even when part of me screamed that I should run back home and forget everything. Desperation urged me on, and I ran deeper into the woods.
I caught the scent trail a few moments later.
It wasn't him.
In fact, it wasn't any of them. A new vampire was living in the Cullen house.
I scouted the area again, checking to be sure I hadn't missed an additional scent, but I was certain there was only one. I had no idea what this meant; only that he hadn't returned.
He hadn't returned.
I was numb. Exhausted beyond anything I had ever felt before, emotionally shattered, and just...I didn't even really know. Was I relieved? Disappointed? Fucking confused? All of the above?
It was the middle of the night, and I should have been asleep in my bed, with my wife, not out in the dark, chasing ghosts. A pang of guilt exploded in my chest and I felt awful - I was betraying Melissa by being out here.
She was my imprint, my love, my wife.
She deserved better than this. I was better than this. Now I had my answer, I needed to turn my back on the past, lock it away again and live in the present. No good would come from living my life with one foot in memories, no matter how strong they pulled at my heart.
Because my heart belonged to Melissa now. And I had left her home alone, in an empty bed.
Disgusted with myself, and sighing at my own stupidity, I turned and headed home.
"Isn't he adorable?" Melissa asked me as she gazed at the baby in her arms.
"Yeah, sure," I said. If you could call small, red and wrinkled...adorable. Personally, I didn't see what got everyone sighing, and using words like 'cute' and 'precious'. Babies were kind of squishy and ugly-looking, if you asked me. But, it was kind of nice to see Sam and Emily looking so happy.
"I think we're going to call him, Sam Jr." Emily said with a smile.
"Nice," I said, shooting a smirk at Sam. It came as no surprise to me that Sam was going to name his kid after himself.
"Do you want to put him down for me?" Emily asked Melissa. She grinned in response. "I'd love to!"
I smiled as I watched them go off to put the baby to bed. I was pretty sure it didn't take two adults to put one baby in a crib, but it was nice to see the two of them getting on so well. Em had been a good friend to Melissa over the past few weeks.
More than just taking an interest in the new girl in town, she had really helped Melissa come to terms with what it meant to be living here, what it meant to live with someone who phased into a wolf every night. We still didn't really talk about it, but there was a new kind of quiet acceptance now, and for that I would be eternally grateful for Em's calm and patient influence.
"Melissa's got that look, you know."
Sam's voice pulled me from my thoughts.
"What look?"
"The 'baby look', Seth." He said each word slowly, like I was stupid or something.
"Nah, man." I shook my head. Having a kid was something for later. Much later. Like when I was thirty or something.
The bastard just laughed at me. I was going to tell him where to go, but the girls came back down the hall, so I just glared at him instead.
Later that night, Melissa and I were in bed reading. Well, she was reading some book, and I had my laptop open trying to finish up a contract for work, but I can't say I was that interested. She was wearing that satin pajama set that she knew drove me crazy, and I couldn't stop wondering if she'd worn it on purpose just to tease me. My mind began to imagine peeling it off her, and other parts of me stood to attention after deciding that would be a fine idea, thank you very much.
A moment later, I was scooting up next to her, kissing along her neck, pushing my hands under the smooth fabric to find her soft skin. She felt like heaven under my fingertips as I traced familiar pathways over her sweet curves. So warm and perfect, and I could never get enough of her.
She moaned as my hands found their way into her boxers, her book falling to the floor. God, she was always so responsive. I could feel her hot and wet already, and I'd barely even touched her.
"You're so fucking sexy," I whispered against her mouth as I kissed her.
She loved when I said shit like that, and I grinned to myself as I heard her breath hitch. Her fingers dug into my back, and I started to rub her clit just the way I knew she liked. The sound of her little moans and the flush of pink across her cheeks...fuck, I wanted her so much. I ignored the throbbing between my legs, moving my thumb faster against her, wanting her melting underneath me, breathing my name as she came on my hand. Because that shit was beautiful, and there was nothing else that got me going like seeing her in the throes of ecstasy.
"I want to go off the pill," she said suddenly.
My head snapped up. "What?"
"I want us to have a family, Seth."
Fuck it! Sam had been right all along. Bastard. I pulled my hand out of her shorts, and flopped back on my own side of the bed, my dick deciding this conversation was the mental equivalent of freezing water.
I sighed. I would do anything to make her happy, but this? I wasn't ready for kids. Not yet.
"I'm only 24, babe. We've got plenty of time," I said softly, trying to make it sound like I wasn't saying no.
"You might be 24, but I'm 28, remember? 30 is just around the corner for me."
Sometimes, I forgot she was older than me. The age thing was all sorts of fucked up anyway, what with me phasing again. Physically, I probably looked about my age, but the longer the pack patrolled, the more obvious it was going to become that none of us were aging. It wasn't like there was any kind of precedent for this, and none of us were really sure what the hell we were going to do. Sam had a theory about a next generation and how eventually we would be able to stop phasing and our bodies would 'catch up' with our actual age , but it was just that; a theory. I think he was just hoping we wouldn't need to patrol for that long, and I was just trying not to think about it at all.
"I'm not ready, baby. Not now, anyway."
She sat on the bed, her legs pulled up tight to her chest, her eyes downcast. Fuck it. I couldn't bear the thought of refusing her anything, and it made my heart ache to see her looking so disappointed.
"I'm not saying 'no, not ever' - just... let's wait a bit, OK?" I said, hoping my compromise would be enough. "I mean, you want to travel, don't you? See the world and all that?"
"Not so much, anymore. Holding Emily's baby in my arms today just felt so right, Seth. I know this is what I want. I want us to have a baby." Her eyes looked wet at the corners, and I hated that I was making her upset.
"Look," I said softly, "we've only just settled here. Now that Mom has moved out we can renovate the garage and set it up as a studio. You can finally have your own space to work...I know how much you want to start painting again."
She smiled. It was weak, but at least she didn't look like she was on the verge of tears anymore.
"Maybe you can even get some pieces together and do that exhibition you were talking about last week. Let's just wait for a couple of years...OK?" I pleaded with her.
"OK. I can wait a couple of years, I guess."
I pulled her into my arms, trying not to wonder if a couple of years would be enough. The truth was, I wasn't sure I would ever want kids. If Sam's 'next generation' theory was right, then it was possible my own children would be able to phase, and I wasn't sure I wanted to pass on this kind of life to them. Sure, being a wolf was pretty fucking awesome at times. I mean, who hasn't wished they could run as fast as a car, or entertained dreams about superhuman strength and being almost invincible. But it also came at a price. There had been plenty of times I had hated what I was, wishing I was normal and not some sort of goddamn freak. Nights are meant for sleeping, not patrolling for vampires in the dark of the forest. That kind of shit belonged in fairy tales, not real life. I couldn't even begin to imagine telling my kid what was in store for them.
I kissed the top of Melissa's head. Her hair was shiny and sleek under my lips, the smell of her, all vanilla and spice, easing the discomfort in my mind.
Tomorrow, I'd make a start on her studio.
"Jesus!" I cursed as I pulled up the garage door. I hadn't realized my father had been such a hoarder. The garage was full, almost to the roof, with...crap. I could see parts of engines, sheets of roofing iron, boxes full of God only knew what, tools, half a motorcycle and various other piles of stuff Dad had kept 'just in case'.
Luckily, Mom had insisted I get a trailer before I started, and now I could see why. It was going to take the better part of the day to get the garage emptied, and from what I could tell there'd be at least two loads to the dump, and maybe another one to the scrap metal yard.
I groaned and got to work. As much of a shit job as this was going to be, I knew Melissa couldn't wait until she could get her space set up. Mom had surprised us both by offering us the house. She said the diner was doing pretty well; she'd recently leased the shop next door and set it up as an Internet cafe. It was pretty amusing that my Mom, who barely knew how to turn on a computer, was now managing the busiest tourist stop in La Push. Apparently, coffee plus Internet was the secret to business success, and she was doing well enough that she had bought herself a cottage out by the beach.
At first, I was so shocked I didn't really know what to say, but Mom was pretty adamant it was time for her to move out of the house she'd shared with Dad for thirty-odd years. She said it didn't feel the same now he was gone, and the house was ours for as long as we wanted it. We didn't have to pay the mortgage since Dad's insurance had taken care of that, and we could finally begin to save for a place of our own.
I threw an armful of rusty pipes onto the trailer. What the hell did Dad think he was going to do with those?
The trailer was almost full, and I went back into the garage to find another armload of rusted stuff for the dump.
"Seth? Are you in there?" I could hear Melissa chuckling under her breath.
I wiped my brow, no doubt streaking my face with oil and dirt, and made my way out of the towering piles of rubbish to see her.
"Getting there?" she asked, trying to hide her smile.
"Not really." I grumped. "You coming to help?"
"Actually, your Mom offered to take me to Port Angeles to do some shopping. Do you mind?"
"Course not. You go. Have fun. Just think of me slaving here at home...all on my own." I knew she could tell I was joking. I didn't really want her help, anyway. It wasn't exactly fun, but there was something personal about going through Dad's things, and I was happy to do it on my own.
"I'll bring you back some cold beer." She laughed, and headed back inside the house.
Four hours and several full trailer-loads later, the garage was almost done. We would still need to waterblast the floor and put in some more lighting, but it was looking much closer to being a studio than when I had opened the door that morning. Tomorrow, I would go and see how much it would cost to replace the tilt door with windows and a sliding door.
There was an old cupboard at the back, and I opened it gingerly, hoping that more crap wasn't going to fall down on me, but the only thing inside was a familiar-looking box. I laughed as I pulled out a bottle of moonshine.
I'd only been dumb enough to drink the stuff once, and after a hang-over from hell, I'd never stolen it again. I could only imagine how much more potent it would be now after sitting here for so long.
Carefully, I unscrewed the cap and took a tentative sniff. It damn near burnt off all my nose-hair, the gasoline-like smell floating in the air like a fog. Immediately, I was transported back to a bonfire on a beach. I could almost hear the sound of the waves crashing on the shore, feel the cold sand between my toes, the flames flickering in the distance. Fuck, I'd been so drunk that night. If it hadn't been for...
I clenched my eyes shut.
Coming back here had been a mistake.
He was everyfuckingwhere.
I couldn't escape him. No matter how much I tried. And I tried. God, I tried.
Anger swept through my veins, and without thinking I took a swig from the bottle, swallowing back a mouthful of the honey-colored alcohol. It scorched my throat, making me cough and gag, and I had to lean against the wall as I caught my breath.
Just the taste of it made the memories hit me like a freight train, and I dropped to the floor. The oil-stained concrete was cold and scraped against my knees, but I barely felt it. Images of him filled my head; flashes of a love so deep, a loss so fucking wide, it made every single part of me ache to think of him.
This, right here, was why I didn't think of him. Ever. Why I hadn't said his name in five years. Why I locked it all away.
Because I couldn't live my life, I couldn't be the man my wife had married, I couldn't be anything, if I let myself remember.
I threw the bottle back again and again, trying desperately to drown the memories out. I felt sick, the alcohol and despair rolling in my guts, but I knew eventually it would make me numb.
Numb would be good. Numb would make the ache and the guilt and the fucking memories go away. I didn't want to remember. I didn't want to feel like this.
The bottle sloshed as it hit my mouth, amber liquor falling to the floor like drops of blood. I grimaced as another mouthful hit my already churning stomach. Somehow, I was aware that this wasn't a good idea, but I couldn't stop. It hurt too much to stop.
I wrenched open the cupboard door again, grabbing the other two bottles to my chest. Storming out of the garage, I headed to the backyard, the ground swaying under my feet as I stumbled down the path. There was a huge tree in the middle of the lawn, where Leah and I used to have a swing when we were kids, and I stood under it, feeling the tears sliding down my cheeks.
With my free hand, I lifted the open bottle again, welcoming the burn, hoping the numbness was only one more mouthful away. I staggered as I put it on the ground, the afternoon sunlight refracting off the bottle and making patterns of light on the grass.
Edward.
A sob erupted from my chest as I threw one of the full bottles. It hit the tree with a resounding crack, splintered glass flying in all directions, alcohol soaking into the bark of the tree.
Cullen.
The next one followed. The sound of it smashing into a million pieces made me laugh, even as a piece of glass embedded itself in my foot.
I fell to the grass, knocking over the bottle I had been drinking from. Moonshine trickled out onto the grass. The last thought through my head before I passed out was that it was the same golden color as his eyes.
"Happy Anniversary, baby." I handed over the envelope, leaning over to leave a quick kiss on her lips.
"What's this?" She eyed it suspiciously.
"Open it and see!" I laughed.
She pulled the tickets from the envelope, scanning them quickly before letting out a squeal and launching herself into my arms.
"I take it you like your gift, then?" I laughed as she peppered kisses over every inch of my face.
"Yes!" she breathed in my ear, wrapping her arms around my neck so tight she was going to cut off my air supply.
She knew me well enough not to expect roses and candles - hiding the tickets from her for over a month and not just giving them to her on the spot was about as romantic as I got. She wasn't that type of girly-girl anyway. I mean, if she was, she wouldn't have married me in Vegas wearing her jeans and flip-flops.
"Vegas? Really?"
"I know it's not London or Rome or whatever, but I thought we could go back, celebrate our anniversary, stay in the same hotel as last time?"
"It's perfect, Seth. Thank you." Melissa said softly.
It was hard to believe we'd been married seven years. People had been so fucking condescending when we'd got hitched while holidaying on spring break. Everyone assumed Melissa was knocked up, or that we'd been wasted, or that it was all just a joke. Sure, we were young, but it didn't matter.
I couldn't explain it even if I wanted to try. She was the center of my universe.
"I got you something, too!" she said excitedly.
"Yeah?"
"Wait here." She ran out to her studio. She always hid her presents for me out there, knowing it was the one place she wouldn't have to worry about me finding anything. It was her space, and I only went out there when she invited me to. Mostly, I just left her alone to work, her creative chaos of color and charcoal was a foreign language that I didn't understand.
A few minutes later she returned, holding a canvas in her hands. She held it out to me, biting her lip anxiously.
It was a painting.
Of me.
Part wolf and part man. Ruby red and midnight black. It was violent - color slashed across the canvas like bleeding wounds - and yet, she'd captured a vulnerability; the human as well as the beast. It was almost abstract, most people wouldn't even know what they were looking at, and I loved it all the more for the fact that its significance was something only the two of us would understand.
It was stunning.
"Is this how you see me?" I could hear the awe in my voice. What she had painted was powerful, strong; certainly not how I saw myself.
"Sometimes, it seems like you're stuck between two worlds, one foot in each," she said hesitantly.
Over the past few years, she'd come to accept the part of me that she would never fully understand. The painting captured exactly how I felt - caught between two realities, the collision between the two was not always smooth sailing.
"I love it. Thank you." Carefully, I set the painting down on the counter. "Are you going to let me hang it up?"
"Maybe..." she said with a coy smile. She was so depreciating of her own work, it astounded me. Her work was good; really good. She had pieces in galleries all over Washington State, and even had her own website now. Hers was the name that people were watching in art circles, but still, she never let me hang any of her work in our home.
I smirked at her. I had every intention of making sure my painting went up on the wall tomorrow. First things first, though. I scooped her up in my arms, ignoring her shrieks and half-hearted attempts to get down, and took her to our bed, intent on making sure she realized just how much I loved her.
"Leah!"
She heard my voice, a wide smile breaking out across her face as she spotted me in the crowded arrivals lounge. I pulled her into a hug as she reached me, her familiar smell flooding my mind with childhood memories.
"It's good to see you, little brother."
"You, too." I said, choking on my own voice. I grabbed her arm, pulling her in the direction of the baggage claim. I was pretty sure I wasn't going to actually cry, but if I was, I didn't want half of Port Angeles airport getting a look at me.
I hadn't seen Leah in close to nine years. My big sister, the inseparable playmate and insufferable tormentor of my youth, had left home just after I had. First it was volunteering in India, then raving in London, working on a vineyard in France, God only knows what the hell she had been doing the past few years. Her emails were always light on the details - the most I could expect was an update a couple of times a year, and a phone call on Christmas Day.
Dad's funeral had been the last time she'd been back. I think she'd stayed a few months, for Mom's sake, before taking off again.
"You home for good?" I stole a glance at her as we walked back to my truck, her suitcases piled high on the trolley in front of me.
"Dunno. We'll see."
"Sam?" I knew the real reason she'd left the Peninsula was to escape Sam and Emily. Having her fiancee imprint on someone else just about broke her. I could still remember her sobbing in my arms as she explained to me what had happened, the nights spent listening to her cry herself to sleep in the room next to mine, the light that left her eyes the day Sam's world stopped revolving around her. I didn't blame her for leaving. Coming back was sure to be tough.
She laughed. "I think I'm pretty much over that now, Seth."
"If you say so," I said, like I believed her. Even though I wasn't really sure I did.
In any case, we had plenty of other things to talk about as we drove home. Like the fact she hadn't phased since she'd been gone.
"Do you think I still could?" she asked me.
"Probably. I went three years without phasing, so did the others when..." I swallowed, glancing over at her quickly, before gluing my eyes back to the road, "...the Cullens moved away."
"But you said the pack has reformed, right? Did they come back?"
"No."
No, they hadn't come back. Not once.
"Then, why?"
"There's a chick vampire living in their house - Tanya. She's a friend of theirs or something. From Alaska."
"You've met her?" Leah said incredulously.
"Once."
I could see in my peripheral vision that she was staring at me, giving me that look.
"I went up there once...to see if..." I couldn't understand why I was struggling to get the words out. "...to see if they'd come back. I got too close, she picked up my scent the next day and made contact with Sam."
"And..." Leah's jaw was hanging open so far it was practically touching her lap.
"And she was nice, actually. I apologized. She said it was fine, but could we please keep our patrols to the areas agreed to in the Treaty." I left out the bit where Sam had given me the silent treatment for a week afterwards. Ripping shreds off me would have been preferable.
"Tanya's no threat to us, Leah. Sam's just got the alpha mentality thing going on and makes us patrol every night, even though she's never once crossed the Treaty Line or done anything to expose herself."
It was a total waste of time if you asked me, but Mr Boss-Man wasn't to be argued with, so every few nights it would be my turn to patrol, spending the time I should have been sleeping, running through the forest as a wolf instead. At least he'd finally conceded and let us patrol on our own.
"So...you want to come out with me tonight, or what?"
"Sure," she grinned.
Leah hadn't found the change easy, and it had taken close to an hour before she'd managed to phase into the small grey wolf that was her long forgotten alter-ego.
I'd forgotten how awesome this is!
She sprinted across the forest, disappearing into the darkness. I chased after her, following her scent as she galloped through the trees.
After a couple of hours, we rested under a huge fir tree, lying down on the damp leaves that covered the ground. It reminded me of when we had patrolled together years earlier. We always took a break, finding it easy to be in each other's head and to "talk" that way.
I had missed this; missed her.
Melissa seems nice.
Even though they had only met for the first time earlier in the day, they had seemed to get on well. I hadn't actually met anyone yet that didn't seem to instantly like Melissa; she was just that kind of person. Her warm infectious smile instantly put people at ease, and she never had any trouble making new friends.
You really love her, don't you?
Of course I do. She's my wife.
And your imprint.
What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I prickled as I caught the almost accusatory tone of her thoughts. Christ, she was almost making it sound like imprinting was a crime or something.
Do you ever see him?
Leah... I growled at her in warning, the sound rumbling in my chest and making the hairs of my coat stand on end.
Calm down. I was just curious, you know.
I sucked in a deep breath of the cold night air, trying to get myself under control again.
I haven't seen him since... I wasn't going to think of that day. Not even for my sister, and I carefully made my mind blank.
Do you ever think of him?
Jesus, Leah! What the fuck? If I'd known you were going to play Twenty Questions I would have left you at home. I don't want to talk about it, OK?
Don't want to talk about him, you mean.
That was it. I rose to my feet with a snarl, my paws feeling oddly heavy as I paced back and forth in front of her.
She was right - I didn't want to talk about him. Ever. Moving back here had been hard at first - he'd been everywhere, haunting me even as I tried my hardest to forget. After my moonshine 'accident', I thought those ghosts had been well and truly laid to rest; memories drowned in the bottom of the bottle. I'd done a pretty good job at moving on and getting on with my life since then. I mean, it wasn't like I was even having dreams about him anymore.
Sleeping pills?
I knew she'd already seen my thoughts, so there was no point denying that I had finally found deep, dreamless sleep courtesy of a small white pill.
I get it, you know.
What the hell was that in her tone? Pity?
There's nothing to get, Leah. That part of my life is over.
If you say so.
She threw my own words back at me.
Fuck it. I was not going to have this conversation with her. Not now. Sure, I had missed her, but I was also beginning to remember Leah could be a royal pain in the ass when she wanted to be. I got the feeling she wasn't going to let this drop anytime soon, and I bared my teeth at her, growling as I ran in the direction of home.
Leah could find her own way back.
The house was silent and pitch-black when I finally made it home. I slipped inside, not bothering to grab the clothes I'd left on the porch, and made my way upstairs.
I pushed open the bedroom door, smiling as the sounds of Melissa sleeping drifted to me across the room. I crossed the floor quietly, even though I knew that my girl could sleep through anything. I wondered if she'd always been a heavy sleeper, or if it was just years of living in an apartment block full of other students that had given her the ability to sleep through pretty much everything, short of the house falling down around her.
Easing back the covers, I carefully slid into bed, sighing as I connected with the warmth of her body. She had her back to me, and I nestled against her, wrapping my arms around her slim waist. Instantly, I felt myself relax, my breathing falling into rhythm with the rise and fall of her chest.
This was where I belonged.
Leah had it all fucking wrong. I didn't love my wife because of the imprint, I loved her in spite of it. Melissa meant everything to me, and I'd be damned if my harpy of a sister was going to plant seeds of doubt in my mind by bringing up my past. I had been completely fucking serious when I'd said that part of my life was over. The memories were just that now - memories.
Melissa was my life now.
I pressed my lips to her shoulder, breathing in the smell of her, all vanilla-spice that was hot under my mouth. If there'd been any lingering doubt in my mind, it evaporated the second I kissed her skin. Soft and forgiving, just the lightest touch soothed the anxiousness that had been eating away at my guts since I'd left Leah in the forest.
Shuffling closer, I molded myself to her shape, pushing her long black hair over her shoulder so I could run my fingers along the warm skin of her neck, watching her pulse push against the surface, imagining her heart calling out my name.
My heart had been hers since the day we met.
I felt her stirring, her fingers intertwining with mine and pulling me closer. She murmured something unintelligible, and then immediately fell back asleep. I followed soon after, sleep coming easy as I wrapped myself in the comfort and safety of her arms, my love for her keeping the dreams at bay.
It's funny how time has a way of speeding by. One minute your day at the office is dragging on, and in the next, you suddenly realize a month has passed, a year. Three, even.
That's how it was for us.
Life was good.
I'd been worried that working for a small family law firm in little old Forks wouldn't be the challenge I had been hoping for, but I couldn't have been more wrong. We were busy, and the work was interesting. Demetri, my boss, was creeping towards 65 and had started to hand over more and more of the work to me. I knew he was thinking about retiring in a few years. He was planning on heading back to Greece, and had started to hint that maybe I'd want to take over from him one day. I had to admit that Clearwater and Associates did have a certain ring to it. Most of the work that came our way was day to day conveyancing, but we also had someone who specialized in family law. No two days were ever the same.
Lately, most of my time was spent working on an intellectual property rights case on behalf of the Quileute people. One day a week I based myself down at La Push, talking to the tribe's elders and researching tribal history, and helping out anyone on the Reservation who needed help, but couldn't afford it. Those were the days I enjoyed most, and it wasn't just because I got to have lunch at the cafe with Melissa.
A year ago, Melissa and Mom had officially gone into business together. Cafe plus Internet now included an upmarket gift store and gallery where Melissa showcased local artists. She had also started running an art school for adults, one night a week, in partnership with the local high school. Somehow, between teaching and running her gallery, she still managed to find time to paint, and her work was still as in demand as ever. Her energy and enthusiasm were amazing, and sometimes I wondered how she managed to fit everything in. But she was happy.
Except for one thing.
It was her birthday next week. Thirty-four. That didn't even seem that old to me, but according to her, the world was practically coming to an end. All I'd heard for the last few months was her worrying about imaginary wrinkles and how she didn't want a party to celebrate her getting 'old'. Part of me thought she was being ridiculous, albeit adorably so, but I was also aware that her biological clock wasn't getting any quieter.
She didn't know I was going to give her the best birthday present I could think of. I'd intended to wait until her big day, but as I thought about it some more, it seemed silly to wait.
We were watching some mindless late night television - it was as good a time as ever, right?
"I think we should start trying for a baby." I blurted out. Suddenly, I wondered if there was a right way to go about this and I was meant to be on bended knee. Maybe I should have got some flowers, or some shit like that.
"Really?" The look on her face was priceless. I wished I could have taken a photo, kept that look of joy in my back pocket to carry with me every day. Pure fucking happiness, right there.
"Really," I grinned at her.
She started crying. I knew they were happy tears, but still. I fucking hated seeing her upset.
"Are you sure?" she whispered, "I don't want you to feel pressured, or to just agree because you want to make me happy..."
Of course, I wanted to make her happy - if she wasn't, then neither was I. But that wasn't why - I'd been thinking on it a lot lately and all I could come up with was that it just seemed like the right time now. Like I said, life was good.
When we were younger, we had all these crazy plans to travel the world, backpack through Europe, climb in the Himalayas, cycle through South America. None of that really appealed anymore. Over the past few years, we'd had a couple of trips abroad - it was fun to go, have a look around, snap some tourist photos, but we were always happiest at home.
Now, we just aimed to do a big trip every few years. Next time, we were planning on catching up with that sister of mine, in whatever country she was currently in. She hadn't stayed long the last time she'd been home. She said that she just had the wandering bug and, although it had been good to come home for awhile, she wasn't ready to settle down. I knew she was lying and the real reason she stayed away was because of Sam - I'd seen the pain on her face when she'd been around him. I worried about her and hoped she'd find happiness some day, even if that meant she'd never come back home to us.
The home where someday, hopefully soon, we would hear the sounds of little feet running down the hallway and laughter in the backyard. I was already thinking about putting a swing back in the big tree, just like the one that had been there when Leah and I were kids.
Melissa wiped her eyes and wrapped her arms around me. "I love you."
I knew she wasn't just saying that because I'd finally agreed to start a family. I could hear in her voice the weight of her words and that she truly meant it with every bone in her body. Just like the way I loved her.
Having a kid of our own just made perfect sense to me now, and if I was honest there was even a part of me that wished that I'd agreed to it earlier.
Sam could still be a dick sometimes, but there was no denying he was an awesome Dad. He and Emily had two kids now, and another on the way. I wasn't sure I wanted ours as close together as that, but I definitely wanted a couple of kids. Maybe three. I think Sam was hoping for at least six - I was pretty sure he just wanted his own little tribe to boss around.
I would go to see him in the morning and tell him I wanted out of the pack again. The thought of not phasing, and turning my back on that part of my life, made my stomach clench, but I had to remember that I'd done it before. Before we moved back, I hadn't phased for a couple of years. Sure, it would be tough at first, but it was the right thing to do. It wasn't like there was much point anyway. One lone vampire who never strayed far from home hardly constituted the need for a full pack of wolves. I was pretty sure the boys would manage without me.
I needed to stop soon, anyway. I knew part of Melissa's hang up about her age was simply because I didn't look much older than twenty. Blaming my youthful looks on lucky genetics was only going to work for so much longer. Once I stopped phasing my body would eventually 'catch up' with my biological age, and maybe then Melissa wouldn't be the only one nervously checking in the mirror for grey hairs.
I smiled as I imagined us growing old together, maybe even with grandkids of our own. Grey haired and hard of hearing, on rocking chairs on the back porch. Growing old didn't seem so bad if I got to do it with Melissa.
Jesus, I was a sentimental sap, sometimes. Hazard of being in love with my wife, I supposed.
Snapping myself out of it, I pulled her to her feet. There were some definite benefits of this baby business, and I was going to make the most of the opportunity. "Want to come practice making babies with me?"
I grabbed the FedEx parcel from off the counter where Melissa had left it for me, ripping into it like a little kid at Christmas. I'd been eyeing up these new chef's knives for ages, and last week I caved and ordered them. I pulled one out, running my finger along the blade, and because I'm an idiot, I managed to nick my finger. A drop of blood welled on the pad of my finger, but I ignored it, too caught up in admiring my new wicked-sharp knives.
Stirfry for dinner - maximum chopping required.
I pulled everything out of the fridge, laying the vegetables out on the chopping board - not the onion though; that got chopped on its own special odor-free glass board. I sighed as my new super-sharp knife slid through everything like butter. Melissa was going to give me shit about yet another kitchen-related purchase, but I didn't care. These knives were awesome.
Ten minutes later, I had a colorful pile of vegetables heaped on the counter and oil heating in the pan, and I started to throw everything in. Stirring it absentmindedly, I wondered if we had any sparkling water or something to drink with it. A nice white wine would have been my first pick, but Melissa wasn't drinking alcohol anymore, now we were officially "trying to conceive" - or getting it on at every opportunity, as I preferred to think of it.
I could see the lights in her studio were on, and when everything was cooked I set the table and wandered out to get her. She never came in on her own, always too wrapped up in her art to take notice of the time; she just waited till I called in her for dinner.
Winter was just about upon us, and it was already getting dark. I hoped she had her heater on out there, because it wasn't exactly warm out there at this time of night.
I pulled open the sliding door, poking in my head to call out to her.
"Honey? Dinner's ready."
She didn't answer, which wasn't unusual; sometimes she just got so absorbed in the process she wouldn't respond until I yelled, or actually went in there and tapped her on the shoulder.
"Melissa?" I nudged the door open some more. It wasn't warm in there at all. Puzzled, I walked in. Normally, she'd be at her easel to the left of the door, where the light was best. But she wasn't there.
My heart stopped beating the second I saw her lying on the floor.
All I could see was red; everywhere around her, on her, on the floor. She was red. So much red.
I ran to her side, the few feet between us feeling like a mile, my legs moving, but I couldn't feel the floor under me.
Frantically, I called her name, my voice echoing in the cold air. My hands were on her shoulders, shaking, begging. There was wet on my face even as I somehow registered it was paint on her.
She was lying in paint; red, red paint.
My fingers, slick with fear, punched keys on my mobile phone. I don't remember what I said, only that I needed them to hurry.
Please, please hurry.
I pulled her into my arms, cradling her to my chest. Her eyes were closed, like she was sleeping.
But she wouldn't wake up.
There was a line of scarlet coming from her nose. It wasn't paint.
Please be OK.
I'm so fucking scared.
They took her to Seattle in a helicopter.
There were doctors in white coats who poked and prodded, and searched for answers in the bottom of test-tubes. Rooms that smelled of bleach, and tasteless food from vending machines. Words I didn't want to understand, and nurses who wouldn't let her fucking sleep in peace.
She didn't look like her anymore. Her skin was sallow and paper thin, arms purple and bruised where needles stabbed and drained. Bags under her eyes where the stars didn't shine anymore. The pain made her cry and the morphine made her throw up. She was trapped in an endless cycle of trying things that didn't work, that didn't fix or cure, or make her who she used to be.
Visitors came and went, a nameless, faceless blur of pity, and apologies for something they didn't cause, or understand.
There was nothing to understand.
I made my home on the faded blue armchair beside her bed, hoping desperately I would wake up from this nightmare. I told her stories of all the things we would do when she was better; the places we would see, the names we could call our kids. All I could talk about was the future that was waiting for us.
I told she had to get better because I couldn't live without her.
I begged and pleaded, but in the end it wasn't enough.
Palliative care, they said.
Sam came and picked us up. My Mom stayed home, cooking and cleaning and filling vases with flowers. She moved our bed into the lounge so we wouldn't have to go upstairs. The hospital gave us drugs, the number of a home-care nurse, and more empty apologies.
But nothing was going to put the stars back in her eyes again.
While she could still sit up, I drove her to the beach.
I carried her from the car to the dunes above the tide mark.
I wrapped her in hand-knit blankets and sat behind her so she wouldn't see my tears.
With my arms around her and my lips on her neck, we watched our last sunset together.
Earth to earth;
I love you...
Ashes to ashes;
Please don't leave me...
Dust to dust;
I'm lost without you...
.
.
A/N:
I found this chapter...difficult. I hope I managed to get the balance right. Next chapter will be EPOV, same time period.
I couldn't do this without my lovely pre-readers Yellowglue and Naelany. Their support and encouraging comments keep me going. And Betham - my beautiful beta-extraordinaire.
Thank you for reading! Reviews are appreciated.