by Noelle N
I veered past her a little and caught a glimpse of Jed, who was leaning against the glass wall of the diner while Adrian spoke to him. His head was lowered and he cut a sorry sight standing in the dark. I wanted desperately to go to him, but then, I also needed to get a good grasp on the situation. And another glance at Jed made me realise that he was in a kind of mood that was almost volatile. Blood-stains on his jacket and jeans – not only on him, but on everyone else as well – along with the sombre looks on all their faces and I knew at once that the mission hadn't gone well at all.
Damn Dimitri and his knack for prediction.
"What brings you here?" I asked Bianca, gazing up worriedly at her, then at Jade and Vaughn. They were all covered in nicks and scratches; Vaughn was cradling his arm to his chest and Brutus had a nasty cut along his neck, but Bianca seemed relatively unscathed.
"Had to save your pack's sorry little asses," she told me bluntly, now looking faintly aggravated. "I heard rumours that Titan was launching an attack on Prometheus and I figured I'd drop in since I was just a couple miles south. At first, I thought Jedediah was going on a suicide mission, bringing half a pack to face off a full one. But you've got some solid fighters in your ranks, I'll give you that."
I was almost pleased, until I saw the defeated looks on Vaughn and Brutus' faces, and I immediately tensed. "So what happened?"
"Well, it was all going fine and they'd razed half the place to the ground, until Little Miss Moronic Airhead over there decided she wanted to face the Big Bad Wolf," Bianca added in disgust, throwing a frosty look over at Lorraine, who was sitting in one of the booths with her friends. "Oh, you should've seen her." Bianca's voice turned mocking now, her red lips curled in revulsion. "I was still heading into the building through the side gate so I saw everything. She ran straight after the Alpha of Prometheus with nothing but a cute little dagger in her hands and screaming bloody murder like a deranged woman – "
Lorraine immediately jumped to her feet, an expression of fury on her face. "I was trying to avenge my mate – "
"You were trying to get everyone killed," returned Bianca sharply, unfazed by the way Lorraine looked as though she was about to attack her. "Almost got your sorry useless self killed too, had it not been for your brother who stepped in before the Alpha sunk his teeth into your skinny little throat." Bianca threw Lorraine another cold glare before turning back to me. "Neither pack could've won today, but Titan could've easily had an advantage if they razed half of Prometheus to the ground and retreated, regrouped and reattacked. But no, she – " And Bianca jabbed a finger in Lorraine's direction. " – had to dive right into another battle and caused Titan to lose two of your best fighters in the process, not to mention all the injuries the rest of the pack had to suffer because of her absolute idiocy."
I swallowed, finding it impossible to meet Lorraine's gaze. I wanted to feel sorry for her, truly I did, I wanted to empathise and sympathise and I would've helped her if only she wasn't so fixated on pushing everyone, everything away in her pursuit of revenge. So I lifted my eyes and met Brutus's gaze instead. "Who did we lose?"
Brutus dragged in a pained breath. "Lance and Giles."
It felt like the oxygen had been sucked right out of my lungs. I felt Bianca unexpectedly place a steady hand on my elbow when I let out a shuddering exhale and I forced myself to keep a levelled head. "Dead or – "
"We don't know. We managed to get eight from Prometheus, though."
"It's not the same," Bianca said evenly, the only one able to keep an emotional distance from all this. "Titan cannot afford to lose anyone. Prometheus can lose any number they want, because they can always recruit. Anyone and everyone is dispensable to Mattheus Norvil."
A chilling silence settled in the wake of her words and, for awhile, everyone was quiet. Thinking about the ramifications of what had happened. I couldn't help but wonder if Lorraine was regretting everything. Was it worth losing a brother to avenge a mate that she'd already lost? And what about Jed? I couldn't even begin to imagine how devastated he must've felt, now that he'd lost both Spike and Lance, along with Giles, who'd always been one of the most reliable and fearless members in the pack.
But not a minute later, Adrian stepped into the diner. The expression on his face was sombre and he seemed to be keeping his grief at bay, if the way he held himself rigidly was any indication at all. "Alpha says that we should all head home," he said at last, after a cursory glance around the diner. "Get some rest. He'll figure out a plan to counterattack soon."
A wave of relief seemed to flit through the crowd at Adrian's words. After biding Bianca and the others a quick goodbye, and closing the diner, I headed outside. The wind nipped at my cheeks in a frigid chill and I didn't hesitate to step close to Jed the moment I saw him. But instead of smiling and intertwining his fingers through mine like he normally would've, Jed kept his bloodied hands firmly to his side, as though terrified that just touching me would taint me, and deliberately maintained a fair distance between us.
I knew better than to push. And so, we headed back in silence, the kind of uncomfortable, unsettling one that you could never get used to. I couldn't even begin to decipher him – the expression on his face was so impassive, his eyes so painfully blank that I knew he'd completely shut down. I just didn't know how to trigger him out of it this time. All I could do was to stay close, but never close enough, to Jed; all the way until we were safely in the house, the front door latched shut behind us.
Jed didn't even wait for me this time and he headed up the stairs two at a time, striding in such a swift manner that he was gone in the blink of an eye. In the distance, I heard the faint sound of the door slam shut and I jumped involuntarily, before dragging in a deep breath and heading into the kitchen to get a calming drink of water.
I stood there for awhile, closing my eyes as I lost myself in a myriad of thoughts – Jed, Spike is dead, is Lance alive, what about Giles, Jed, will Lorraine ever snap out of it, maybe Bianca will help, Jed, we have a rogue on our hands, Dimitri was right, Jed, don't trust anyone, maybe the rogue already told Prometheus about Titan's impending attack, Jed, that's how they got Lance and Giles, that's how we lost, Jed, Jed, Jed.
A distant shattering sound jolted me from my reverie, and I quickly set the glass down, making a swift, but wary trek up the stairs. After all, one couldn't afford to let their guard down at a time like this. I paused along the hallway when I saw a faint light streaming through from Jed's room. Hesitantly, I went in, stiffening when I heard another crash that sounded distinctly like glass.
"Jed?"
After several knocks that he didn't respond to, I hesitantly pushed his door open. It was the first time I'd properly been into Jed's room – we'd spent the previous two in mine – and I glanced quickly around. It was everything I expected it to be – meticulously neat and organised, the large bed with a blanket that was deftly folded in place, a bedside drawer and a desk, with its furnishings more or less the same as what I had in my room, save for the closet in the corner. Mine was a walk-in, stocked to the brim with clothes he'd gotten me when my house was destroyed. His, on the other hand, was just a simple, small one that leaned against the wall.
I felt my breath catch at that. Pushing that aside for a moment, I made my way through his room and towards the bathroom, where I figured he probably was. The door was left ajar, and when I caught a glimpse of Jed's jacket chucked on the floor, I quickly placed a hand on the wooden surface to push the door right open.
"Jed, what're you – "
I froze when I realised what he'd done. The mirror was smashed in, a broken cup lying on the counter a perfect giveaway of the fact that he'd used it to smash the mirror in. Jed was leaning against the sink, faucet turned at full and the water was rushing into the sink in a whirl as he haphazardly scrubbed at his hands. His breaths were unsteady, jaw clenched as he gritted his teeth to hold the bare threads of his sanity back together. Under the faint light, I could see the water tinted a faint red as the
blood from his hands slowly but surely trickled away under the relentless force of the water.
The blood wasn't his, I realised, his actions suddenly making perfect sense to me. He wasn't washing the blood off his hands, not really. Just the guilt.
"Jed," I breathed, taking a firm step into the bathroom and ignoring the possibility of stepping into a splinter or a mirror fragment along the way. Reaching over, I stilled his hands, curling my fingers tightly around his even as he flinched under my touch. I turned the faucet right off and, for a moment, there was nothing but the ragged sounds of his breathing amidst the dead silence.
For a long while, neither of us spoke. It was just us, just the silence in between, all the guilt and bitterness and regret and sadness mingled in the aftershocks of the metaphorical earthquake that we'd been through. I kept my fingers firmly wrapped around his; felt the warmth and the water and the blood seep from his skin into mine until my hands too were stained red.
"I'm not a monster." His voice was a whisper in the silence when he finally spoke. His eyes were tightly shut, the slide of his Adam's apple in his throat unsteady as he swallowed brokenly. "I'm not like them."
The first thing I wanted to say was – everything's going to be okay. But how could I say it when I wasn't too sure I believed in that sentiment anymore? We'd lost Spike. Maybe Lance and Giles. Titan was falling apart. So were we. Things weren't going to be okay, not for awhile, at least.
So I took a deep breath instead and leaned in, shifting on the tips of my toes so that I could sponge a quick kiss along his jawline, just beneath a bruise that darkened his cheek. "I know you're not," I said softly, wishing I could convey in words just how much I believed in what I'd just said.
The only response I got from him was his fingers tightening around mine.
* * *
It was the muffled sound of conversation coming from the porch that greeted me the next morning. Running a lazy hand through my hair, I slowly headed down the stairs, pausing by the landing when I heard Adrian's voice waft through the door that was left half opened.
" – leave it in the bloodstream. Not long enough to kill but it's going to be painful and – "
His words made me freeze. Standing stock still with one hand still on the railing, I held my breath and listened to them. Adrian's voice. Then Katya's. Brutus's. Jade's. Vaughn's. Bianca's. I had no doubt that Jed had gathered them there, and their voices were hushed but audible enough if I listened closely.
" – maybe just a few threats here and there might trigger – "
" – too easy. Try a couple of hits. You'll get them talking soon enough – "
" – no, I'm with Beta. Silver's the way to go – "
It was wrong to eavesdrop and I knew that, but I couldn't stop myself from listening in, heart pounding in my chest and head throbbing when I suddenly realised exactly what they were discussing. Brutus had mentioned the eight rogues that Titan had captured from Prometheus last night, but having been so caught up in losing first Spike, then Lance and Giles, I hadn't even considered what this meant.
Lance and Giles had been captured by Prometheus, and even if they'd been kept alive, who knew what atrocities were now being inflicted upon them? But who was to say Titan wasn't going down the same path when it came to the eight rogues?
And, suddenly, I felt very, very afraid.
Dragging in a deep, shuddering breath, I forced myself to maintain my composure and headed to the counter. Jed had already brewed a fresh pot of coffee and I filled my mug to the brim. With unsteady hands, I lifted the cup to my lips and took a long sip, feeling the bitter aftertaste linger in my mouth no matter how many times I tried to swallow it down.
If grief had a taste, this must've been what it tasted like.
It wasn't until another ten minutes or so when Jed finally entered the house, carefully latching the door shut behind him. One glance at me and the guarded expression in his eyes intensified, his lips tightening in a grim line as he quickly realised that I'd been privy to what he assumed was a private conversation. He was so caught up in…whatever this was, that I didn't even think it occurred to him to shut the door in the first place.
Striding quickly through the hallway, he made a deft manoeuvre past me. Bracing one arm on the counter, he reached for the pot of coffee to pour himself a generous helping. His hand was steady but the veins along his arm were strained and it seemed to take him a tremendous effort to keep his gaze averted from mine.
For a long, agonising moment, there was nothing but an unsettling silence lingering in the still air between us, the seconds that ticked by seeming to last forever. It was never like this. From the very moment I met Jed, it had always been a strange sense of familiarity that I felt with him. Foreign, but I never felt like I was standing opposite a complete stranger, even though that was exactly what he'd been to me at first. It wasn't until then that I realised that you could think you knew a person, and you could actually know a person – the two lines were easily blurred but they were vastly different things.
I set my mug down at last, placing my unsteady hands flat on the counter, my fingers instinctively digging into the surface as though searching for purchase in a situation that made me feel like I was slipping, forever spiralling down into a pit that had no bottom.
"So – " My voice was a quiet chill when I finally spoke, like the coldest of winter days. I hadn't meant to sound so cold, but it had unconsciously slipped in and there was no taking it back now. I took a deep breath and looked up at him. " – silver and violence. That's what you fall back on?"
Jed kept so still and stared so fixedly into his mug that I almost regretted my words the moment I said them. But I couldn't take this back either, nor was there any way for me to back down when I knew very well what path Jed was now taking.
"Using a person's fear against them," I continued, "isn't that what Claudius did to you? What Malthus is still doing to you?"
His fingers tightened around his mug until his knuckles turned white and I wondered if the porcelain would give under his grasp. And when he spoke, his voice was strained. "I'm not like them."
"I never said you were. And it's true – you're not. Not at first. But you're beginning to blur the lines. You're using the same methods of torture that Claudius used on his prisoners when he was still alive." His jaw clenched and his gaze darkened at my words, but I forced myself to meet his gaze boldly. "Using the same methods of torture that Malthus is no doubt using on Lance and Giles right now – "
"I'm not them!"
I froze when Jed flung his mug against the cabinet where it shattered into fragments. Hot coffee splattered against the pristine walls, the sharp splintering sound jarring amidst the tense silence. The remnants of my words dried up on the tip of my tongue as I stared at him with wide eyes and, for a few moments, neither of us spoke. His fists were clenched by his sides and he seemed to be fighting to drag in a deep, shuddering breath that simply wouldn't come.
Then he glanced over at me and saw the frightened look on my face. He paled rapidly, the furious expression on his face swiftly collapsing into something akin to horror as he held out a shaking hand towards me before retracting just as quickly. "Fuck, Quinn, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry – " The words were tumbling out of his lips in a flood and he swallowed, his eyes scanning my face for any injuries as he tried several times to reach out to me, only to backtrack and think the better of it at the very last second. "I didn't – I didn't mean to scare you, I'm sorry – "
I blinked and quickly snapped back when I saw realised how terrified he was. He wasn't wrong – he had scared me earlier. His actions were so unexpected and so instinctively violent, and the fact that he'd done it in front of me was even more alarming. But he'd broken out of it just as quickly and there was his old self surfacing again – the man who would never, ever intentionally hurt me.
"It's okay," I said softly and reached out a soothing hand to place on his arm. He immediately flinched away, his features crumpling in an unspoke
n apology, but I kept my grip on him steady as I tugged him towards me. "Come over here, I don't want you to get feet cut on those pieces by accident."
Hesitantly, he inched closer to me until he was finally standing less than a feet away. His eyes were glistening as he scanned my face and a low, broken sob wrenched itself from his throat when I stepped closer. It was like seeing a version of him that wasn't the Alpha of Titan, wasn't the powerful man I knew he was, but was instead that frightened boy who'd grown up in the shadows of two men that had completely destroyed his world. There was that version of him; and the determined, protective version of him who never left my side no matter what; and the vengeful, guilt-ridden version of him that he was now. And I realised that it didn't matter – every single side of him that he had to offer; every single side that he used to be, now was, and would be – I was going to love them all. All of him.
He looked at me with all the apology in the world and I shook my head and smiled. "It's okay," I repeated, slowly sliding my hands up his arms, to the crook of his elbows and then to his shoulders so that I could feel the tension taut in his muscles, his shivering frame beneath my fingertips. "It's not your fault. I just wanted to get through to you. You understand that, right?"
Without waiting for him to answer, I slipped my hands further up, tracing the slope of his neck. His eyes immediately fell shut at the feel of my hands on his skin. Shifting even higher up, I tangled my fingers through his hair, gently tipping his face down so that he was a hairsbreadth away from me. Through it all, he kept himself rigidly still, his eyes squeezed tightly shut and his breaths shallow and unsteady.