Pretty Boy: The Lost Chapters

Brad's Survival Arc: Part 12

Brad and Emily gazed into the forest through a blanket of darkness. The house's open doorway did little to offer additional illumination outside, only truly working to elongate their shadows as they sat on the porch steps. A full moon partially hidden by fluffy clouds offered little aid to brighten the surrounding terrain. Brad was able to rely on his enhanced vision and superior hearing to tell him if anyone was on the way. Emily, on the other hand, could only wait and hope.

Both people held each other's arms, anxiety running its course through their bodies.

There hadn't been any phone calls or text messages. No howls had been made to alert anyone of the pack's collective presence either.

For over an hour, two friends watched a peaceful treeline, expecting their loved ones to walk through. For this whole vampire-hybrid-baby mess to be over.

Because, truth be told, they were tired.

Although Brad and Emily hadn't been able to step in for very obvious reasons, it was still difficult for them to rest peacefully when knowing their family members hadn't been able to. Both people were constantly hypervigilant of their surroundings. Keeping windows open to catch approaching footsteps outside, preparing too much food in case of the off-chance anyone came back early, in Emily's case: sleeping on an air mattress in the dining room for easier access to the front door, and in Brad's case: when he was well enough, sitting on a rooftop for hours on end, ready to leap if any trouble came to greet him. Not being on the frontlines meant having to find their own means of killing time. To keep busy, yes; and to distract them from negative emotions which grew every passing day.

What would they do if someone came back injured?

What would happen if the pack came back, several members short?

What if...no one came back at all?

Brad previously evaded death because of his best friend's selfless actions. Disregard for personal injury was stronger than any fear Marshall possibly had about putting himself in harm's way. There was no hesitation when weighing the odds of how badly his wounds could get or how torturous the healing process would be. He, quite literally, risked everything for the sake of making sure Brad's new life wouldn't end before it truly started.

What would he do if the most important person in his entire existence was killed?

Slow footsteps, crunching leaves, and snapping twigs made him perk up.

Emily mirrored his gesture, pulling her palms together and silently praying for everyone's safe return.

Sam, Jared, Quil, and Embry were the first ones to exit the forest. Behind them, Jacob, Seth, and Leah approached. Paul followed with a pensive expression on his face.

A few paces back, Marshall walked forward with clenched fists.

His gaze was locked onto the ground, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. Kempt brows were pinched together. A firm set in his jaw wouldn't lessen. His chest rose and fell with each forced breath. Veins bulged against his forearms with how tight his grip was. Each step forward barely made any noise, as if he were doing his best to erase his presence from those around him.

Something was...definitely wrong.

Something really bad had happened during his confrontation with the Cullens.

Whatever it was, however everything ended, it was impacting him in an extremely frightening way.

Because, while Marshall had become accustomed to voicing his troubles after distancing himself from his old coven, he was now strikingly silent. His rigid frame made him appear hollow inside. An unfocused stare revealed his fragile, crumbling mental stability.