"Are you fucking kidding me?" Roman yells as soon as the trailer door opens. Peter looks stunned. "You went to the fucking principal? Really?"
"I didn't want you to-"
"To what?
"I didn't want you to ruin her life!"
"Ruin her life?" Roman scoffs. "Do you think that lowly of me? Do you think I'd do that?"
"I wouldn't put it past you!" Peter shoots to him.
"Oh, so you're Mr. Morality now? Saint Peter? You forget that I know what Letha doesn't!"
"Fuck you," Peter pushes Roman away from him. "You know goddamn well that you'd pull some shit like that."
"Maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do," Roman pushes back.
"I was doing what I thought was right!"
"Where the fuck did this even come from?" Roman's fucking furious. Furious. "How did this little twisted idea pop up in your head?" He taps at Peter's head for emphasis. "You fucking dumb fuck!"
"You said in the stairwell-"
"Make a suggestion. I said make a suggestion."
"You didn't mean?" Roman shakes his head, jaw clenched. "The creepy eye thing?"
"Yeah, with the creepy eye thing!"
"Oh shit."
"Do you know how horrific that entire situation was? For me? For her?" Roman shouts, still angry. "They called Olivia! What didn't you just talk to me? I spent all day cleaning up your mess!"
"I'm sorry, dude," Peter puts his hands up. "You don't listen to me. You never listen to me."
"Oh, fuck you!" Roman yells turning around. "Get in the car!"
"Yes, ma'am," Peter mumbles following behind.
.....
"I can't sit it out again, Des," Peter pleads. "We have to do something."
"I told you to run."
"Peter's right," Roman says much to the disdain of Destiny. "We have to do something."
"I know," she mumbles. "You should have ran. It comes at a price."
"I know. What do we need?" Peter asks.
"Some basic stuff, some stuff to say. I can get most of it, just give me a couple days."
"What else does he need? What don't you have?" Roman asks her.
"Sângele celor condamnați."
"Pardon?" Roman chuckles.
"Blood of the damned," Destiny clarifies.
"Emma," Peter fills in the rest.
.....
"That is so much popcorn," Emma laughs as Alex spills some of it into the aisle. He takes his place in the lumpy seat next to her. The movie theater had been there for almost one hundred years and it showed. The little rinky-dink theater on Main Street was the only place that showed old movies instead of new releases.
Since he drove her home that day they'd been texting nonstop. She's found that they actually have a decent amount in common. They both like old bad horror movies and they both have a habit of rewatching old TV shows instead of new ones. Even in music, there was some overlap. Before he'd texted her she actually knew very little about him.
"It's normal size," he tells her seriously. "I'm a growing boy, so I need my nutrients."
"Ah, yes, chemical-ridden butter. The basis of a healthy diet," she giggles before eating a handful.
"Hey!" He pulls it away. "Get your judgmental hands out of my popcorn. I don't share with bullies."
.....
"Can I at least drive you home?" Alex asks as they walk out of the movie theater. "It's getting dark now."
"Okay, fine," she tries to act disappointed but smiles.
Alex lived on the lucky side of Hemlock Grove. The town split when the mill shut down, most people were either White Tower Rich or Steel Mill Poor. His family was White Tower Rich. The mill had closed down before Emma was born, but the town could still feel the effects of it.
She gathered that he didn't really know what his father did, but it had something to do with computer engineering. He said it sounded terribly boring and Emma could see why. His dad made so much money that his mom didn't have to work. She was the head PTA mom, a mini-van drive the kids to soccer practice mom. Emma's own childhood couldn't have been further from that.
He parks in front of her house and looks over to her. "I had a good time."
"Me too," she nods trying to be cool. She wonders if it's obvious how much she likes him, likes being liked. In the back of her mind, she's already thinking about how they might spend Valentine's day together. Her stomach curls at her own behavior. She's being so... girly?
"I have a question," he asks with a tinge of nervousness.
"What's up?" She asks, worried he's upset about something.
"Oh- my dad," he hesitates. "My dad's got this work dinner thing. It's like a little thing with his department, but we're all going and I wanted to know if you wanted to, y'know, go... with me?"
"Oh," she giggles. "I would love to."
"Cool, cool. It's next weekend."
"Just let me know details and stuff and I'll be there." The air shifts and she can feel what is about to happen. He leans in for a kiss and she doesn't react at first, mouth flat against his. And when she does react it's to back away to the door. "I'm sorry," she puts her hands on her face, embarrassed.
"There's nothing to be sorry for?" He tells her. "I should have asked first." She forces a smile and stutters a goodbye. Once she's in the safe walls of her home hell breaks loose in her. She wants to scream and break things. Kicking angerily at the bottom of the door, she thinks to herself:
Why can't I be normal?
Why can't I be normal?
Why can't I just like him like a normal person?
She's crying and still kicking at the door when her phone vibrates. It keeps going and going and she ignores it. It goes off again. She grabs it, wipes her face clear, and answers the call. "Hey."
"Hey," Peter says from the other side. "You busy?" Emma pulls the phone away to sniff and wipe her face again.
"A little, what's up?"
"Can you come over to Destiny's? We have a uh- we have a solution in progress."
"Now?" She asks.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," she tries to sound convincing. "You want me to come now?"
"Yeah, if you can."
"Oh- yeah, I'm on my way."
"We can come get you-"
"No, I'll walk."
Emma pops into the bathroom to brush her hair. Thank god for waterproof makeup. She runs a brush through her tangled hair and tries to blink back the spare moisture remaining in her eyes. Her feet move at optimal speed, trying to get there before the sun goes down.
"You look nice," Destiny smiles to her as she takes off her coat. "You have a date or something?" She teases. Emma bites her lip and bites back a smile. She thanks Destiny for the compliment and feels a little nicer. More often than not her outfits have been oversized sweaters and leggings, but today was special. So instead she wore real jeans and a shirt Ally brought her. Her entire wardrobe was oversized at this point.
"Let's get this going," Roman says bluntly, breaking up the moment. He'd been staring at her, arms crossed in the corner since she walked in.
"We need something from you," Destiny explains.
"What?"
"We need some blood."
"Blood?"
"Blood," Peter repeats and nods his head.
"Why?"
"It's a part of a ritual," Peter gulps. "So I can change if I need to. Anytime, any moon."
"Is that safe?" Emma asks, concerned.
"Not particularly, but he's strong," Destiny steps in.
"Why my blood?"
"It's damned," Roman says, bored of this whole thing and ready to move on.
"My blood's damned?"
"From the vargulf," Destiny tells her.
"Yeah?" Emma laughs nervously. "But like we're going to do this, and it's not going to kill me." The room stays quiet. "It's not going to kill me, right? Peter?" He looks down. "Peter?" The room stays eerily silent for a moment.
"I'm confused," Roman says breaking quiet.
"It's in your future," Destiny is truly sympathetic.
"Were you just not going to tell me?" There's just silence. Deafening silence.
"So she's going to die either way?" Roman asks looking up from the table. He's confused and clearly out of the loop. "You didn't tell me that. And you didn't tell her that?"
"I didn't... I-" Peter stumbles.
"I'm an asshole," Roman's eyebrows raise. "But that's actually really low of you. She's helping us, the least you could do was be honest."
"Thank you?" Emma tells him softly. She's in utter shock over everything, but especially this Roman Godfrey being nice thing.
"I'm sorry," Destiny sighs. "I thought you knew."
"Emma-" Peter tries to find the words to explain himself.
"Just take my fucking blood! Holy shit!" Emma snaps, startling the room. "You can have it. Drain me. Are you lying about anything else to me? Or is this even real?"
"It's real, I swear," Destiny nods. "The Ursitory don't lie."
"Do you know how crazy you all sound? Ursitory? Is that even a word?"
"It's a Romani thing," Peter explains. "We all have our predictions."
"What were the predictions?" Emma asks with her hand on her hip.
"I don't know if I should tell you," Destiny says. Knowing one's own future rarely ends well.
"I need to know before we do this. I need to know everything you're not telling me."
"The Ursitory aren't real, not in a physical form anyways... Basically, they're three spirits," Destiny tries to dumb it down it. "They come to babies and give them three fates. One good, on neutral, and one bad."
"And everyone has these?"
"No, only when they are offered gifts."
"What are my others?" Destiny doesn't move. "If you're so sure about it, tell me."
"One neutral, one good, and one bad remember that," Destiny sighs. Emma nods her along. "The neutral one is that you will save two lives, but it won't matter. The good one this that every child you have will be born with a caul."
"A caul?" Emma asks.
"Does that mean anything to you?" Emma shakes her head. "To any of you?" The boys shake their heads as well, but Peter knows what that means. He shares a look with Destiny.
"Is it supposed to mean something good?"
"To some people, it is," Destiny mumbles, pity in her eyes. "The bad one is that you will die under a full moon."
"That doesn't mean it's true."
"Emma..." Destiny trails off.
"You don't actually believe this bullshit, do you?" Roman asks angrily.
"I do," she sighs. "It was true with Peter, it was true with me. I'm sure it will be true about you too."
"Me?" Roman asks. "How would I have-"
"Ask your mother." Destiny hisses. "She's the one that brought them to Emma."
"So what you're telling me is that no matter what, even if we kill the thing, it's going to kill me first?" Destiny and Peter remain silent. Roman looks between the three others in the room, an outsider. "You lied to me," she whispers to Peter.
"I never said-"
"You lied to me," she tells him again.
"Emma-"
"No," she shakes her head. "You lied," she takes a sharp breath. "Let's do whatever needs to be done so I can go home."
"We just need some blood," Destiny tells her. She nods. "Let's go to my room."
Emma, Peter, and Roman follow behind her as she opens her door. She stops Roman before he comes in. "You two stay in the living room."
"Fine," they grumble and turns back around.
"Emma, why don't you lay down and get comfortable," Emma gives her a strange look but does as she says. She watches as Destiny grabs a jar from her dresser and uncaps it. "Hello," she smiles down.
"What is that?" Emma sits up on her elbows.
"A leech."
"Why a leech?"
"Well, it won't hurt as bad as a cut and it's more convenient to keep than a bag of blood," she carefully removes it from its home. "Plus I think Mr. Bloodlust out there might cream his pants if he sees you with an open wound." Emma's face curls his face into a look of disgust.
"Is it safe?" Emma asks.
"Yep, the Victorians used these guys for all sorts of stuff. Pull your shirt up," Emma pulls it up to just below her bran and Destiny carefully places it on her tummy. "Plus, rich white people still do." Emma lets out a light laugh at that.
They both watch as the parasite rolls around until it finds somewhere to attach to. Emma is surprised by how little it hurt- it was more of a weird feeling. "And now we wait," Destiny tries to smile down to her. "We can try to change it," Destiny says quietly as if she's not even sure of what she's saying. "I mean there's no guarantee, but we can try."
"How?" Emma asks. She focuses on the parasite attached to her.
"We would go through the same steps, make an offering." Emma shrugs and continues to watch the leech. In some strange way, she finds it incredibly beautiful how its body can morph to the size it needs to be to contain her blood.
"I don't know," Emma says trying to bury her numbness to the situation. "It feels useless."
"Maybe," Destiny reasons. "Or maybe not. Just consider it."
"Okay," she closes we eyes, relaxing to the feeling of the blood being pulled from her. "I'll think about it."
Destiny takes a seat on the bed waiting on the leech to finish. She hopes Emma says no to her offer, she prays to the universe for it. The moment it came from her lips she regretted it. It's highly unlikely that they will change. Destiny has only known two people who tried, one with a baby and one with a child. Neither worked.
But she couldn't sit back and watch. Emma was owed at least one chance, she reasoned. Especially after the lies and deceit. In the end, it will most likely end up in more disappointment than there was originally. At least they will have tried though.
The leech, now full to the brim, detaches and begins rolling around. "Okay," Destiny carefully removes the leech from her stomach and returns it to its home. She hands the jar to Peter. "All done." Emma sits up and pulls her shirt down, stopping to admire the spot where the creature had previously been attached. "What're you thinking?"
"I don't know," Emma sounds dull as she shrugs. "It doesn't matter."
"Think it over," she runs her fingers through her hair. "You've got a little bit of time."
Emma follows Destiny back out to the living room. Destiny hands the jar out to Peter. "Thanks," he mumbles, carefully accepting the jar.
"You know what to do," she tells him and pats his hand comfortingly. Emma watches from the corner of her eye. She grabs her coat and zips then buttons it. She tries to get to the door without having to announce her departure, but a large hand grabs her shoulder.
"It's dark out, let me give you a ride home," he tells her. Something in the way he had acted tonight, and the way he said it so kindly, pulls at her heartstrings and she agrees. It shows to her how weak-minded she truly is. How absolutely desperate she is for some form of normalcy in the world.
In his car, if she lets her imagination run, she can almost believe it was last winter. The sound of the engine is so familiar, the roads and the image of his absurdly massive hand on the stick-shift carved into her memory.
"I am sorry, really," he disturbs her daydream. "I didn't know or I would have told you."
"I know," she says. Roman would never have tried to spare her feelings like Peter apparently thought he was doing. It didn't work. "I don't know that I believe it."
"No?"
"No," she shakes her head. She hadn't meant to start a conversation about it. He didn't have the right to listen to her opinions or feelings anymore. She shouldn't want to tell him. But in this weird supernatural journey they're on she's afraid he's the only one she can share them with. "I don't know that I believe anyone's fate is set in stone. It's a little... sad to think that my entire life is predetermined. I like to think I make my own decisions, that I have choices and autonomy over myself."
Roman glances over. Something unfamiliar washes over him, something that twists his gut and unwinds then rewinds itself repeatedly. Outside of his sister and cousin, Roman only really acknowledges three emotions: boredom, lust, and anger. He hasn't quite figured out where Peter fits into his emotional spectrum, but he's working on it.
Emma catches his glance and looks away quickly. "I think that's a good way to look at it," he tells her quietly. "What're you going to do about Peter?"
"I don't know," she bites at her fingernails nervously. "Not much I can do I guess."
"I guess not," there goes the twist again, like a spring. He's feeling things like some 8-year-old kid. He's about to ask her why, after everything, she still gave blood but her phone buzzes. She unlocks it and her eyes scan over the text message. From the corner of his eye, he can see the face she's making and little half-hidden smile. It's the same face girls make when he talks to them.
"Invite me in," he orders once they're safely parked in the driveway.
"Come in," she says. He follows her to the door. He smiles as she holds the door open for him.
"Take off your shoes and your coat," he tells her. Emma bends over to untie her shoes and place them along the wall. He waits as she puts up her coat. Once it's on the coat rack he reaches out for her. With one arm wrapped around her waist, he caresses her face with his free hand.
"Tell me who you went out with tonight."
"Alex Rosewell."
"Emma, you don't want to go out Alex."
"I don't want to go out with Alex," she repeats.
"Tell him that."
"I'll tell him."
"Good girl," he smiles. Her eyes stay wide open. He licks his lips and thinks over what he's about to do. "You want to suck my dick."
As she sinks down to her knees, he uses the sleeve of his jacket to wipe off the profuse amount of blood dripping from his nose. The unfamiliar twist in his stomach has evaporated to be replaced by his natural state. He doesn't feel good about it, but he feels safe.
A/N: Hi friends! Here is part two, I hope you all like it. Honestly, I don't feel too great about these two pieces but they're ok. I wanted to have the photos come into play somehow and I couldn't figure out how to do it so I hope this is at least not the worst way they could have been incorporated. I had a lot of different ideas but they wouldn't really fit in the story, and yeah Roman's an asshole but I don't feel like he would share them on a whim and also he doesn't have friends so who would he share them with other than Peter?
Anyways, thank you for all the votes and reads! I can't believe we're at over 4k reads and #2 on both the Roman Godfrey tag and Hemlock Grove tag. Thank you guys so so so much for reading!