Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended
Chapter Fifteen: My Unnecessary Hero
I had it. A proud smile erupted over my face the moment it came to me, and I knew that for once, I had a way to give Paul a taste of his own medicine.
He'd kept a low profile in the few days since our 'agreement'. I thought that it might have had something to do with getting a first-hand look at Charlie's pistol, and realising that it probably wasn't the best idea to spread a rumour that he'd been up to no good with the Chief of Police's daughter. I'd already been through a few awkward meal-times with Charlie, and his refusal to look me in the eye was proof enough that the rumour mill in Forks was churning out something juicy.
Charlie was still the only thing in my life giving me comfort that I'd made the right decision, and that putting myself through all this pain was somehow worth it if I got to watch my father grow old and make it to retirement.
That was, until the revelation with Quil.
His imprint had been a sore spot in the 'previous life'. No matter how pure, fraternal and selfless his love for Claire was, it was wrong to expect someone of his character, of his fun-loving, youthful persona to spend his years idly waiting for his soul-mate to get to the point where she wants something more, if ever. I wasn't dwelling on the reason right now, but the fact that it didn't happen at all was enough for me. Quil's life-long, involuntary bond to Claire was never something I felt comfortable with, and the few times Jacob and I had discussed it, I got the feeling he felt that way too. Of course, I had no idea how this Jacob would feel about it, which led me to my second revelation.
I didn't know this Jake. At all.
He'd become a person I no longer identified with, and despite the limited contact I'd had with him, I knew that it was neither a good nor a bad thing – Jake seemed to have direction again, and the sense of loss he'd gone through since becoming a wolf, the loss of a future, of free will, was replaced with a sense of purpose. I didn't know the ranking of the Pack anymore, but something told me that Jacob had found his place in it, in the world, and he was perfectly happy with that. Despite the havoc it had wreaked on my mind and my sanity, that was something I would always want for him. If I could be selfless enough to give up one future, despite the safety net of being with Jacob instead of Edward, for my own father, I could be selfless enough for Jacob.
I just needed to find my own place, and it wasn't watching him live happily, blissfully, with someone who had gained all that I'd lost.
So where did that leave me? I was floating in between the human world and the supernatural one, and picking fights with asshole werewolves who I wouldn't have given the time of day to in my old life. On top of that, I was having full-blown arguments with someone I'd always considered a friend, for calling me out on my behaviour. There was still something amiss in the equation. Since when had Embry been able to read me so well? My mind cast back over different events in our friendship; it had always been light-hearted and fun, and all the serious stuff was left to Jacob, whether it was consoling me after Edward left, or a far-off scenario where he begged me not to let myself be turned.
Except for that one incident, a world ago, in the clearing.
Jacob and Edward were facing off, I felt like the world was slipping away under my feet, and somehow, Embry – quiet, non-confrontational Embry had been the one to stop the spat escalating, and to offer me comfort when two of the most important men in my life would have preferred to fight over me than look out for me.
Of course, that afternoon had never happened, now. There was no field-training, and it had been a long time since Jacob or even Edward cared enough to argue over me, but one person hadn't changed. Maybe that was why his words cut so deep and his opinion mattered so much, even if I told myself it didn't. We were still friends, no matter how messed up the situation had gotten, and I knew on some level, Embry was right. This wasn't who I was supposed to be. He didn't tell me who he thought the 'real me' was, however, and I was still floating, so I was going to allow myself this last indulgence. Paul had it coming.
I knew he was out there, somewhere. The Pack had been relentless in their security detail, and the odd flash of grey fur throughout the evening was my main clue. If Paul was content to let everyone in town believe that he'd gotten into my pants, he could deal with the wrath of Charlie. I just needed to get him in my bedroom.
I'd gone to bed soon after my dad, knowing that his readjusting sleep-patterns meant he'd be out like a light once his head hit the pillow. I didn't want to keep him up too late, anyway – I felt guilty enough for using him in Paul's and my sick games. Just one last time.
A flash of lightening lit up the back garden momentarily, and I could once again see him. The idiot was asleep! That alone would make this a thousand times easier. I covered my mouth, muffling the snort of smug laughter threatening to break free and started pounding on the glass.
Nothing.
Who knew werewolves were such heavy sleepers? It wasn't as if the preservation of my life under their protection hung in the balance or anything...
The banging wasn't working, so I resorted to dirty tactics. A part of me hesitated, but remembering the uncomfortable silence between Charlie and I that evening, and my resolve was renewed. He's got this coming.
I sucked in a breath, opened my mouth, and screamed. Then, well... then, everything happened at once.
It was barely ten seconds before Charlie was banging on my locked door, panicked, frightened, and asking me if I was alright. I couldn't answer him, because I couldn't form words. I could not form words because five seconds before he had reached my door, the half-naked Quileute that crashed through my window was not Paul Lahote.
It was Embry. And he was feral.
That was the only word which came to mind when I locked eyes with him. His stare was intense, urgent, and flitted over me to every dark corner of the room, his lip curled up in a silent snarl, hair plastered to his forehead, slick with rain. He was dressed, but only just, on his hands and knees in the broken glass and was heaving deep breaths, gulping in huge volumes of air, no doubt trying to pinpoint the non-existent vampire threat that had caused such a reaction in me. Predictably, he couldn't smell anything, and the shuddering in his muscles and flash of wildness in his eyes ebbed away, only to be replaced by one of confusion, fear, and worry. The almost-golden hue of the wolf gave way to the deep, mocha-brown of Embry, and holy hell, he had the puppy-dog look down to a science.
My heart sank to my feet as the guilt set in.
"Yo- you were meant to be... it was supposed to be Paul!" I hissed, shooting a look back to the door where Charlie was turning the knob frantically, but to no avail.
"Bells! Answer me, sweetheart! Are. You. Okay?"
"I'm f-fine, Dad... the tree... it broke my window. I just got a fright!"
Embry's brow furrowed as he rocked back on his haunches. His eyes seemed to bore deep down into me, their wide-set hammering wave after wave of remorse into my lungs. His chest was littered with tiny cuts, and some time in the last few seconds, a wound in his scalp had begun to bleed, sending a sickening, deep-red trail down his cheek, pooling at his jaw-line. I gulped dryly, backing away from the sight of blood and the look of hurt on his face.
One thing at a time, Bella!
I spun on my heels, unlocking the door and stuck my head out, taking in the sight of Charlie, in a creased t-shirt and boxers, his hair sticking out at odd angles, and a gun in his hand.
"Don't come in, Dad... the glass, there's glass... everywhere..." I breathed, flailing an arm out in an all-encompassing motion. "I'm going to grab some blankets and sleep on the couch.. go back to bed okay?"
"Bells, you almost gave me a damn heart attack!"
"I-I know, Dad, I'm sorry. Seriously, go back to bed... we can deal with the window in the morning," I said pleadingly. He strained to look past me, but I moved the door slightly less ajar, anticipating his movements. "Sorry, I'm not decent..." I explained, grasping at straws. The look he gave me was one of suspicion, but I knew that his desire for sleep and to avoid embarrassment was overtaking the need to investigate. He sighed deeply, shrugging.
"As long as you're sure you're alright..." he questioned, moving backwards, and putting the safety back on his gun. I gave him my most reassuring smile and nodded.
"I promise," I said. "Sorry again, Dad."
"It's alright, sweetheart. Just get some sleep, will ya?" he requested, scrubbing a weary hand over his features.
"Goodnight, Dad," I nodded, closing the door.
"Night, Bells," he grunted from the other side.
As soon as I'd locked it again, I pressed my back to the wood, preparing myself to face Embry, but my eyes scanned the room frantically, searching him out. He was nowhere to be seen.
"Embry!" I ground out under my breath "Where are you?" I crept forward into the room, fastening my robe over my pyjamas again, just to give my hands something to do. I almost leapt out of my skin when he appeared, once again, at the window. The wind from the dying storm howled around him ominously, but that was nothing compared to the look on his face. Embry was pissed.
"Look, this was all a huge mistake, I thought Paul was guarding me tonight..." I said pathetically, watching him leap seamlessly and soundlessly over the jagged shards littering my floor. His chest was almost healed already, but there were still a few wounds where the glass had embedded itself, impeding the healing process. I picked up the box of tissues by my bed, holding it out to him.
"Here," I said, jerking the cardboard in front of his face. "You should get those out before you heal." He didn't answer, instead, jutting his jaw out defiantly and folding his arms – he wasn't going to talk or acquiesce until he got an explanation.
I sighed, wondering where to start. Holding out a hand towards my rumpled sheets, I raised my brows in encouragement. "Sit down, then?"
His gaze flickered between me and the bed for a moment before he looked away, the set of his jaw tightening as he cleared his throat. I let out a frustrated grunt before shaking my head. "Get on the bed, Embry."
His eyes shot to mine, jaw slackening slightly as if he was going to respond, before he pressed his lips together and obediently parked his butt on my bed. "You shouldn't have to make a girl ask twice," I smirked boldly, almost missing the deep bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed thickly.
I sat down to his right, half-turned toward him and began dabbing at his cuts with the tissue. My breaths came shallow, afraid that any more exposure to the blood and my light-headedness would go full-on blackout. I knew the pounding in my ears wasn't being kept a secret. After a few moments of silence, Embry spoke, looking out at me from the corner of his eye.
"I thought you hated blood," he said, a tiny furrow appearing on his brow. He was trying to sound indifferent, but there was no hiding the curiosity in his tone.
"I do," I said tightly, still trying to make it on the minimal amount of air. "But it's kind of my fault you're in this state, and I'm not going to send you home looking like a sequinned dress.."
A small smirk tugged at his mouth before he fought it down, turning his head away to look around the room. His gaze stopped on my book shelf. "So why exactly were you screaming at me from your bedroom window?" he said, still not turning back to me. "I thought you were in real trouble."
I chewed on my lip for a beat, wondering how to answer him without sounding like the thoughtless bitch I felt in that moment. I focused my attention on a particularly nasty-looking piece of glass, actually preferring to concentrate on pulling it out of his skin than on the conversation. I watched in awe as the skin melded together in its wake, only the faint stain of blood and a faint seam leaving any evidence there had been a wound in the first place.
I couldn't buy any more time staring at his chest, so I turned to the tissue box, pulling out a clean sheet.
"It was a prank," I said finally, looking at his profile and trying to decipher his expression, but got nothing. "Paul and I... well, I can't tell you the details, because we made a promise.. but I thought it was him guarding me, and I was trying to get him in here."
"Into your bedroom..." he said evenly, still fixated on the shelving.
"Yeah," I said helplessly. Knowing exactly how that sounded. "But not like that..."
He let out a soft snort and pulled away slightly, tracing one of the scars on his chest absently with his index finger. "With Paul it's always like that. Whether you know it or not, Bella." The concern in his tone startled me for a moment, and I shot a confused smile at his shoulders.
"I can handle Paul, Em. Believe me."
His posture relaxed slightly and he nodded into his chest. "Yeah, I know... But just... if you're going to move on, can it not be with someone, I don't know. Less of a dick?"
"Embry," I sighed. "There's nothing going on between Paul and I."
"Not yet.." he muttered. My mouth popped open in outrage and I threw my hands in the air helplessly.
"Jesus, do you think all girls are powerless to deny him or something? He is not all that great.."
"Yeah, but he's got this.. I don't know. It's like a super power. It's like he hones in on the girl's weakness and plays it against her. It works every single time," he said, one fist clenching minutely as he spoke, and the other making stabbing motions at the air with his index finger.
"Don't you think I know what he's like? Don't you think I'd be prepared for that?" I asked, trying not to be hurt by his words. It seemed like every time we talked it descended into an argument these days, and I was sick of it.
"I know.. it's just, you deserve better, Bella. Find a nice guy, someone new. Someone who'll treat you right and who'll appreciate you for who you are, not what you look like or what they can do with you...I..." he sighed, trailing off. He was looking at the carpet, now, his eyes focusing on something I couldn't see.
"What if I'm not ready?" I said, looking into the middle distance, and not taking the time to wonder how the hell I'd got to talking about this with Jacob's best friend, of all people. He half-shrugged, his lips jerking in thought.
"I'm not an expert, but I think when you meet the right person, you'll be ready. It could be tomorrow, or it could be next year... but it's not going to happen on its own."
I turned towards him, studying his face. "When'd you get to be all Dr. Phil?" I joked, trying to diffuse the serious tone that had overtaken the conversation.
"I'm not trying to tell you what to do... or pretend I know everything, but I just think you deserve better than what you've been dealt. I...I just worry is all," he said after several moments.
"About me?" I asked, finding that I could actually feel my expression softening. It felt like a long time since someone in the know had cared even a little about how I was doing, and the thought was a welcome one, even if it was in a purely platonic way. He met my eyes ruefully, and held up a hand towards the window as proof. I laughed softly, nodding in agreement. "I guess that answers that."
"You're still my... my friend, Bella... of course... well yeah, I worry. Just promise me you won't do something like that again." I wasn't sure if he was talking about my dating habits or what had happened tonight until he turned to face me fully, looking at me in disapproval. "Haven't you ever heard of the boy who cried wolf?"
I buried my face in my hands and groaned.
"Oh God, please... I feel bad enough as it is. I swear, I've learned my lesson," I said, my voice muffled.
I could feel the bed rising again as he stood and when I looked back, he was standing in front of me, evidently uncomfortable to be there. Getting back on to my feet didn't do much for the height difference. Even though he wasn't the tallest of the pack, I sometimes forgot how big Embry actually was.
"Thanks for um... being here, though. I know if I'd really needed you, you would have saved my life tonight. You're a great friend, Embry."
The soft smile fell from his face and he looked away, burying his fists in his pockets – something he seemed to do when he got uncomfortable.
"It's no problem, it's kind of my job," he said detachedly. I nodded at my feet, wondering how the mood could have become tense in a fraction of a second. In the blink of an eye, his smile was back, and he puffed up his chest.
"Besides, Mike Newton would never forgive me for letting the love of his life get eaten."
I stifled a laugh and smacked him playfully in the chest, instantly regretting it upon hearing the wince of pain he tried to hide.
"Oh my God, Em.. I'm so... does it... crap... Sorry!"
He shook his head, clenching his eyes shut and holding up a hand. "It's fine, Bella," he said tightly, shooting me a smile.
"I guess you're winning on the friendship front.. I've managed to give you heart failure and smack you in your wounded chest," I cringed.
"Yeah, but you patched me up, even though you looked like you were gonna toss your cookies," he shot over his shoulder, walking towards the window. "That's a lot more like the Bella I know."
He pulled the last of a shard out of the window frame and tossed it on the floor, before throwing a leg outside. "I guess my old friend's in there somewhere," he said, before he hopped out into the darkness.
A/N: So finally, these two have a conversation that doesn't end in someone storming off and someone beating themselves up over what they said. That's progress, right?
But wait... has Embry just been friendzoned? Poor Em... but at least she's talking to him, right?
A special thanks for this chapter goes to Megan (meliz875), for helping me find some direction. I won't lie, guys, this story was running into trouble. You should show her amazing work some love :)
I would really love to hear what you think.