I wrote this chapter really quickly, so sorry if it's a bit choppy. Like always, VOTE. COMMENT. FAN. ENJOY. :D Love ya~ hpwand16
P.S.~ The song at the end of the chapter is "I Would Die For You" by Matt Walters.
Chapter Twenty-Five
• Aubrey •
I wake up in his arms. For once, I let myself indulge in this simple bliss― the sheer happiness of waking up next to someone you love. Watching the rising sun warm their face, wash across their ruffled hair. A smile compliments my lips as I take him in, my eyes scanning his face. He looks younger in sleep― more peaceful. I lean over, inhaling his sweet scent, and kiss him.
My touch wakes him up and he blinks the haziness from his eyes, cracking a grin and brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “Good morning, you,” he says, voice rough with sleep; it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.
“Good morning, handsome.”
“Handsome? I could get used to that.” With his arm still wrapped around me, he turns his face to stare up at the ceiling. Stars decorate it, glowing faintly in the half-light. I’m reminded of my family, my mom falling asleep accidentally next to me, pointing at the florescent stars.
I press my face into the hollow of his neck. “I could get used to waking up next to you.” Even as I say the words, an inevitable thought is pressing at the back of my mind: Today is the day that you’re going to die. It’s Peter’s deadline, and I don’t have an answer for him.
Oddly, I’m not scared or panicked or anything. Right now, I’m just impossibly happy― despite the fact that Ben is dead and that I murdered a human last night; I am aware of that, in the distant way I’ll probably always be aware of it. But dying doesn’t seem like such a bad thing. Not anymore. At least I’ve experienced true freedom― true happiness and love and pain and joy and loss and forgiveness. Because of him, I’ll die a saint and not a sinner.
Twining my fingers with his, I kiss him again before sitting up and stretching out my sore limbs. I end up dragging him with me, his lips tracing my collarbone while I giggle. I spring from the bed and run towards the closet, away from his laugh and his arms. As I change back into my jeans and a fresh shirt of his, I call out, “I want today to be normal, okay? Go-to-school-hang-out-with-my-friends normal. For once, I want to pretend that everything is okay and normal.” Ha. Normal. I’m not sure I even know the definition of the word.
“Normal. No werewolves or kanimas or people drowning in a pool of their own blood. Got it.” I stick my head out of the closet and glare at him and his vivid imagery. He just offers a big, goofy grin.
He makes me breakfast― or, attempts to. Cracked eggs litter the counter, the uncooked yolks a disgusting shade of yellow. Laughing, I keep trying to clean up the mess, but he breaks another one and the whole thing starts again. Next, Stiles tries pancakes― from scratch. Needless to say, that’s another failed kitchen venture.
Thirty minutes later, we arrive at school with flour in our hair.
Lydia saunters up next to me, hooking her arm through mine. Since when did she get it in her head that we were best friends? She sees my incredulous look and quickly lets go, saying, “Looks like someone is incredibly happy today.” Then, she leans over towards Stiles, close to his face. A few days ago, I would have been overwhelmed with jealously. Now, I know that while Lydia isn’t exactly harmless, she’s not interested in him at all― and finally, the feeling is mutual. “You know what would make her happier? A Prada purse.”
I roll my eyes and point to myself. “Lydia, look who you’re talking about; I’m not into fashion. And to prove it, look, boy’s shirt.”
Her eyes widen slightly when she sees that I’m wearing Stiles’ favorite shirt― one with a target painted in the middle― and then she smirks. “No wonder you’re so happy. All those endorphins and everything. Little Aubrey isn’t so innocent anymore― who would’ve guessed?”
My face goes beet red and she snickers, turning on her heel with a new application of lip gloss and a hair flip. Squeezing Stiles’ hand, I take off after her, catching up easily. She looks at me expectantly and it takes all of my dignity to get out, “Look, I know we didn’t always get along and everything, but I owe you a lot. You were the one― out of everyone― that made me feel the most human. Thank you.” And I hug her tightly. She really does make me feel normal, and I want her to know that. If I’m going to go down, I want people to know what they’ve done for me.
When I let her go, her eyes dart from side to side. “God, Aubrey,” she groans, glaring at me with distaste. “We’re in public.”
The bell rings overhead and I shrug, turning in the direction of History. “Yeah, PDA is the worst.”
To my surprise, she laughs― a musical tinkling sound that doesn’t match her personality; it shouldn’t belong to the (immune) goddess of sky-high heels and designer handbags. For a second, she just stands there, acting superior. And then she whispers, “No, I owe you a lot. Thank you.”
“For what?”
Her mouth twitches up in a half-smile. “For reminding me what it feels like to be human.” My breath catches in my throat and she sighs, brushing hair out of her eyes impatiently. “Oh, and Aubrey― those boots are still horrible.”
• • •
With every passing second, fear begins to grow. It starts out as a small, insignificant thing and then builds until it’s a black, all-consuming beast. Just like that, it sucks the happiness from me, removing the color from my memories and replacing them with smoke.
In the world I live in, death is a constant fact. It holds your hand, from the time you were born until the time it decides to claim you. Death watches over those recently bitten, urging them to give up the fight. I shouldn’t be afraid of it, since it’s been my companion, but I am. I really don’t want to die.
Smoke and mirrors
In this twisted reality I find my
Life light love loss
In this cold darkness you are my
Heart blood soul death
Allison slides into the seat beside me in English, her hair done up in a variety of stylish braids. She gives me a quick smile, sees how I’m barely containing a panic attack, and whispers, “Bree, are you okay? You look like you’re going to be sick.”
There’s no point lying to her; she’s trained as a human lie detector. “I am.” The ball of fear is clawing at my insides, prodding and twisting to get to my vital organs. This morning, Stiles was all I could think about― nothing else. Now, when he’s not with me, the threat of imminent death takes up residence in the forefront of my mind.
“Hold on a minute,” she says, making her way to the front of the classroom. I don’t hear what she tells the teacher, but seconds later she’s back, tugging at my hand and leading me out the door. When we’re a safe distance away from any wanderers, I collapse against the wall and slump to the floor. I feel weak and scared and exhausted.
Allison crouches down, her eyes level with mine. “Listen to me,” she instructs, pulling my face towards her in a bony grip. “You’re a survivor, Bree. You’re going to make it through this.”
How wrong she is. “No, I’m not.” Even my voice sounds tired. “I’m going to die. Tonight.”
Her jaw sets in a grim determination. “I know; Stiles told me. But you have to pull yourself together, okay? This is your last day. Make it count.”
The conversation this morning with Stiles runs through my head: I want to pretend that everything is okay. Ironic, because everything is definitely not okay. I guess that means I’m not a very good pretender.
I swallow, trying to keep myself from falling into the pit of fear and despair. “Now that I’ve tasted a life, I want to live.”
“Aubrey,” she says slowly. “You’re starting to sound like you care.”
Despite my best efforts, a grin spreads across my face. That’s what I said on the first day I met her, in the cafeteria when she was fretting over Scott. Her eyes spark and she smiles with me, pulling me into a hug. Even in a week, the two of us have been through so much; of everyone I’ve met, she understands the life of murder and how you can never really get away from it.
“There’s something I want to show you.” Allison draws back, rolling up the edge of her sweater.
“Oh,” I protest, joking half-heartedly. “Allison, we’re friends and all, but I don’t think I’m ready to move to the next level.”
“God, you’ve been spending way too much time with Stiles.” She rolls her eyes and reveals a small strip of skin on her hip. Ink is splattered across it, in the very distinct design of three little black birds. Admiring them, she tells me, “I got them after my dad kicked you out. I realized that we all have our inner demons, and instead of dwelling on them, I need to honor them instead. There’s one for each family member I’ve lost. But the birds reminded me of you.”
The thought is so sweet and so overwhelming that I can’t get any words out. Instead, I wrap my arms around her and let the tears flow: tears of joy, of friendship and appreciation and gratefulness.
Thank you for being there for me, for keeping me safe when no one else could. Thank you for learning how to love again and helping me learn as well. But I don’t have to say it. She knows.
• • •
Scott catches me after school, when I’m in a much happier mood. Not entirely calm or joyful, but enough. So far, I’ve really only spent the day with Allison; I haven’t been able to meet up with Stiles since we went our separate ways for first period. Anyway, when Scott sees me, twisting a woven leather bracelet around my wrist inscribed with the letter A, he rushes over and scoops me into a hug.
“I hate Peter,” he murmurs into my hair. “Just to let you know. He’s a murderous ass. I can’t believe he’s related to Derek.”
He sets me back down and I shrug. I keep twining the bracelet around and around; it’s my new habit to hide my shakiness. “Yeah, well, Mr. Brooding Hale― Nephew Extraordinaire― isn’t winning any awards either.”
“Stiles told me everything.” He looks me up and down, biting his lip with unguarded worry.
“I figured, since you’re pretty much Stiles 2.0 and all.”
This makes him grin and shove his hands further into his pockets. “Damn. I was so looking forward to those double dates.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Double dates? What would that consist of― Stiles joyriding in his Jeep and Allison shooting arrows from the passenger side window, all while the two of us run alongside and howl into the night?”
Scott laughs, the skin around his eyes crinkling. “Yeah, that sounds pretty accurate.”
Neither of us says anything for a minute, communicating silently with smiles. Then, I sigh heavily and start, “Look, Scottie―”
“No,” he growls, taking my hands in his. “Allison texted me and I talked to Lydia; they both said you were thanking everyone since you think you’re going to die tonight. But I don’t believe it.”
“You were my first friend here― the first one who actually knew what I was and tried to help me anyway.” Leaning forward on my tiptoes, I lightly kiss his cheek. “You’re going to do great things, Scott. Be the leader I know you were born to be.”
His thumb brushes the bracelet. “This was Allison’s, wasn’t it?” He doesn’t wait for me to respond, only continues, “You’re a natural leader, Aubrey. Remember that, alright? People listen to you because they love you.”
I shake my head. “I’m not much of anything.” I just happen to control-not-really-control mythical monsters and murder unsuspecting humans. I doubt that makes me a good leader.
“Yes, you are. One day, you’ll realize it. You’re special, Bree, and I’m not just saying that because you have ultimate power or whatever. I’m saying it because I believe it. Just know that when the time comes, we’ll all be looking to you to lead us.”
Unfortunately, I won’t be around for that. Smiling weakly, I get out, “Bye, Scottie.” I turn towards the woods, but something stops me, placing a wry smile on my face. “Oh, if Stiles is too much to handle after I… am gone, I give you full permission to kill him.”
“I don’t know if I can stick by that promise, seeing as he’s doing something really sweet for you.” My eyebrows knit together in confusion and he points towards Stiles’ jeep. “There are instructions on the passenger side window. Go ahead and follow them… at least, I’m assuming that you can read.”
I shake my head, already descending down the stone steps. “Always a dog, Scottie.”
“I try.”
Brushing a strand of hair behind my hair, my smile stays in place for the entirety of my journey to the car. Despite my best efforts to take my time, curiosity gets the better of me and I run the last couple yards. A note is taped the outside of the passenger window, like Scott said, written in a familiar all-capitalized scrawl. My mouth tweaks up as I read: It’s a marvelous night for a moondance, with the stars up above in your eyes. Underneath the passenger seat is a gift for you. Please put it on and join me in the woods.
The “gift” I discover beneath the seat is a relatively large white box, held closed by scarlet ribbon. Tearing it open, I run my fingers over the silk lining before removing the package… and laughing. It’s the dress Lydia insisted upon buying, the little black number that reflects the sunlight.
After I’ve changed into the slightly revealing outfit, I cross the parking lot and enter the woods. A slight breeze tears through the trees, sending chills across my exposed back. I spread my hair out more around me, creating a dark curtain. Music plays from somewhere nearby and a smile plays across my lips when I see him.
“Stilinski, if you’re pretending to be in an eighties romantic comedy, I’m going to be severely disappointed in you.” He stands there, dressed in an elegant suit and tie, a boom box propped on his shoulder.
Placing the radio on the ground, he starts towards me and grins, twining his arms around me. His thumbs make small strokes on the small of my back and he presses his face into the hollow of my neck, causing my eyes to flutter closed. He whispers huskily, “Happy Birthday.”
I rest my arms around his neck, melting into him. “It’s not my birthday for another three weeks, you know.”
“I know.” It’s very clear what he doesn’t say: And we won’t be able to celebrate it then. His hand plays with the strands of my hair. “You are so beautiful.”
I smile, turning his face to mine. We kiss, soft and slow, swaying to the music emitting from the speakers. His lips move against mine, his touch gentle. We break apart and I rest my head on his shoulder, trying to be as close to him as possible.
He buried her heart still/ He buried her on his own/ By the cool ferns/ In the rained on riverbed/ He took her in his arms/ He carried her ghost/ Through grey stone fields/ He could feel her float/
Neither of us says anything; we don’t need words to communicate. We have our bodies and our hearts and the chords of the music. The notes wash over me, wrapping me in a slow coffin, numbering the beats of my heart. Nothing in my life has ever been as real as him.
She said, “I would die for you, I would die for you”/ And it all came true/ It all came true/ A love so dark/ Against that moon/ With a silken cord/ She spoke too soon/ She said, “I would die for you, I would die for you”/
The world falls away and it’s just the two of us. It’s only ever been the two of us. I want to linger here forever, in this golden eternity. I want to stay with him forever, but time is the one thing I don’t have.
When he first laid eyes on her/ It was like a curse/ He felt his heart rise/ And gravity in reverse/ Her eyes full of hope/ Her voice full of mourning/ And her lips as red as a shepherd’s warning/
There is no me and him; there is only us. We are one being, knit together entirely. I never thought I could love someone, but I do. He’s given me the whole world, and in return, my heart doesn’t belong to me anymore― it belongs to him. I love him, I love him, I love him.
She said, “I would die for you, I would die for you”/ And it all came true/ It all came true/
Love is pain. Love is beauty. Love is unconditional. Love doesn’t last. Breath passes through my lips in a ragged way, my heart beating the same steady beat as his. I don’t want to let him go. I don’t want to let this life go.
He lay her down/ In the gentle earth/ And kissed her eyes closed/ Like it didn’t hurt/
He holds me tightly, like I really am the bird about to take flight. He is my light darkness savior grace sin soul heart blood life death love.
She said, “I would die for you, I would die for you”/ And it all came true/ It all came true/
I think of Allison and Scott and Isaac and Lydia and Jake and Ben and Stiles. Yes, I would die for them. I would die for them.
I’m ready.
I’m ready.