{trigger warnings; some blood and graphic descriptions of bodily harm. not too much, but if it bothers you can skip it.}
❧
"This isn't how you bring her back," Aro calls as Sam drags him through the forest. The sun is quickly setting, the moon shining so bright he thinks of leather jackets and cool skin against his own.
Sam ignores Aro.
"I am serious, wolf," Aro says.
Sam turns, glowering in Aro's face. His body trembles from the need to shift, but he won't give this asshole the satisfaction of dying before they reach the meadow.
"Keep walking."
He grips Aro's wrist tighter and keeps walking. Aro stumbles behind him, but Sam keeps his pace. The sun is fully set, which means Aro probably can't see, but Sam doesn't worry about him stumbling over branches or debris; he doesn't care enough.
"You are being ignorant."
"If you think I'm not going to sacrifice your life for Sage's, you're even dumber than I gave you credit for." Sam scoffs rolling his eyes.
After a moment of thought, he pushes Aro in front of him. Aro glances back, and Sam sees the first hint of nerves flutter across his face, a trickle of rain before the clouds pass.
"Think about this logically," Aro says, turning towards Sam. Sam pushes him forwards and he stumbles on a branch. "Sage had a prophecy that needed to be fulfilled."
"And it wasn't." Sam sneers, the thought of Aro thinking Sage's sacrifice was the prophecy being fulfilled forcing rage through him. "Sage died because she loved you, not because of the prophecy."
Ez had stated so. Sage's death was an anomaly to the ones she visited--a shock to the one who created her. That's why Sam is doing this. That's why Aro has to die.
"Sage's downfall was her love," Aro states.
Sam tries not to shift. "No, it wasn't."
Aro sniffs, bothered. "Where is she now, dog?"
"About to come back," Sam snarls, reaching out and clenching Aro's arm tightly. They were almost at the meadow now. Wind blew strands of his hair back, and he wiped at the sweat on his brow before they hit the clearing. "I'm sure you remember this, don't you?"
Aro remains silent, his face deathly white. It seems there's nothing for him to say anymore now that they've reached his place of death. Sam almost wants to laugh. How the powerful become powerless.
"Walk."
He pushes Aro forward harshly. Not enough to make him stumble, but enough that Aro snaps out of his reverie. As he walks, Sam notcies that his steps are hesitant, shaky.
"What's wrong, Aro?"
"Nothing." There's a waver in his voice that suggests otherwise.
The moon shines brightly on them, almost the perfect night. Clouds are scattered about here and there, but the temperature is cool--not refreshing like Sage curling up on him, her legs tucked between his own, but cool enough--and it eases something in Sam's chest, the relief that he's going to see Sage soon.
It makes him feel better about murdering Aro.
"You don't have to do this," Aro mutters, begs. "You can let me go. I won't be a problem."
"You living is a problem." Sam laughs then, a cold sardonic sound. He raises a brow at Aro. "You've done too much, killed too many people, to be considered anything but a monster."
"And what of you?" Aro snaps, standing straighter. Sam still towers over him, and he straightens to his full height, glaring until Aro flinches. "You think killing a human is going to make her fond of you. That it will make her fall into your arms." His eyes suddenly flutter, hooded and what someone might consider seductive. His voice dips lower when he mutters, "Or perhaps you want to lay with her. She is good for that, I suppose. At least, her mate Antonio--"
Sam gripped Aro's throat until his eyes bulged. Body shaking, writhing, he felt the pull of his wolf rip to the surface.
His clothes shred from his skin, and fur replaces his skin. Claws slash over Aro's face, a warmth splattering on the fur on Sam's chest and throat. He licks his teeth, roaring as loud as he ever had. Birds leave the trees and he bends down, crouching low. Staring. Waiting.
Bloody as he is, Aro's light eyes stare with hesitation, then determination. His legs are shaky when they get up, but he runs lithely--quickly.
He doesn't get far.
His wolf is relentless when it attacks. Claws strike through thin flesh. Aro cries out, a choked, gurgling noise. Blood coats his barely recognizable face, the crimson liquid falling out of his mouth in spurts. Sam had cut through his chest, right down to his heart. The rivers fall into the grass, coating the blades with liquid darkness.
Sam can see his ribs.
He shifts, almost like his wolf knows that it harmed the very thing it had meant to protect.
Standing swiftly, his chest heaves up and down as he looks at Aro, bloodied and torn in the grass. A fragile human with the monstrosity of a vampire.
Aro's unfocused eyes look towards Sam. A moment later, they dim.
His breathing stops.
Sam heaves into the grass.
The breeze is chilly against his body, but a full on tremor makes it easy to ignore. Sam heaves and throws up, and his body shivers, and a moment later a heavy breath escapes him. He turns, curls into himself, and thinks about how much colder the breeze is now.
Something broken forces his way out of him as he reaches within him for the connections with his pack, to anchor himself to them.
He feels nothing.
Not even his wolf.
He presses his face into his hands, breath stuttering.
❧
Something warm wraps around him, a blanket calling him home. Hands press on every part of him next--his shoulder, his back. His cheek, jaw. Solid as they are, they keep him focused. They burn him, the pack's--Jake's pack's--hands.
"It's okay," Allison mutters, putting his head in her lap and kissing his forehead. "You did what you had to do. No one blames you."
But the agony--the reality of what he did--settles within him. He had thought himself to be fighting a monster before so he allowed his wolf to take over, but it had been. . . Aro had been so malleable, like clay with too much water in it. So easy to break. To cut.
"D. . . Did it work?" he asks, his voice hoarse.
"We don't know," Seth answers from somewhere above. Sam can't open his eyes, but he doesn't want to keep them closed. Opening them, though, means that he'd see Aro's shredded body for what it was, and he can't accept the fact that he killed the man Sage had loved the most.
"Has Ez. . .?"
"No." Seth's voice is tinged with irritation. Sam doesn't care that the rest of the pack is here. The plan was to bring Sage back. Sam held up his end of the bargain; Ez had better do the same.
"Get me--" The smell of blood soaking through the grass is heavy on Sam's nose. "Help me up. Please."
The hands gripping him pull him up. Sam blinks when he's on two legs, the large blanket wrapped around him covering up most of the bitterness he felt from the chill. The moon blinks wearily back at him, a little blurry. When he looks towards Aro, an instinct almost, he sees that the body is gone, the spot almost clear except for the blood that seems to be seeping into the grass.
Sam stares, entranced, as it disappears. The earth seemed to be taking back what it had so missed.
"The Cullens took the body," Allison mutters. "They thought it was the least they could do for you."
"Reneesme?"
"Is with Rosalie. She doesn't know," Jacob replies, coming over and placing a gentle hand on Sam's shoulder. "And if she does, she doesn't care. She knows what Aro did to Sage."
"Good." Sam nods, eyes never straying from the spot where the blood had disappeared. "Thank you," he adds in a whisper, voice choked. "For coming. I'm sorry-- I didn't think it'd be so--"
"His body was human," Seth says, blank as it is. "But he wasn't. He was a monster. And Sage deserves to live more than him."
Of course. Sam would never argue with logic like that, so he remains quiet. The last drop of blood runs into the ground, and then there's a moment of quiet where it feels like everything stops. The breeze, the animals. The humans and shapeshifters even pause, their breaths stopped.
A moment later, nothing happened.
"Anti-climatic," Paul mutters, hand on his chin. "Shouldn't the leech be back by now?"
Sam doesn't have an answer. He feels young and worn, his bones exhausted, body heavy. He leans heavily on Jacob, who carries his weight with ease. Eyes never straying from the spot, he stares at it until the pack is long gone.
Until the sun bleeds into the morning air, fog surrounding him and dew coating his feet. He's grateful they brought him some clothes to change into--a threadbare t-shirt and some pants. It helps him now, even if his dampening ankles irritate him almost as much as his unblinking eyes are.
But if he looks away, he could miss her returning.
Hours later, nothing else happens. Anger simmers within him, but Sam searches the edges of the forest before he grows irate.
At first he sees nothing but dense forest, browns so dark and thick they remind him of his mother's eyes after a particularly bad fight. Menacing and ominous. Then, he sees the flicker on the edge, the telltale sign of Ez, cap on his head and all.
Sam remains silent, waiting, and when Ez shakes his head, Sam thinks all is lost. Gone. His heart stutters, his breath heaving, but then Ez points back to the spot Sam had been staring at. He turns.
And in front of him is a flower, not quite blossomed yet, but curling up from the ground as though it's almost there. The flower fades from red to white, blowing in the breeze so swiftly it looks as though a blazing fire is burning orange in the morning sun.
An asphodel.