Howl 2

Friends In Strange Situations

Mark Twain once said, and I quote, ‘Never allow someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option.’

The more I put my mind to it, the more I realized how true that actually was. What Derek and I had, was impossible since the start. And I realized that part of the journey of getting hurt was my own fault. I saw the obstacles, I knew of the risks, I realized that it would never be perfect, and yet I continued down that road which stopped at a dead-end anyway. My heart was shattered into a million pieces, scattered around for the memory of Derek to walk right over them.

I understood that breakups needed to suck, but did literally everything I look at had to remind me of him? My room was my prison of memories - the bed where I lied him down when Peter almost killed him, the desk where he sat when we had our first kiss, the chair where I sat where he marked me, the dresser where he caught glimpse of my underwear drawer... I couldn’t escape to the roof, that’s where we had our first dance. I couldn’t take refuge in the kitchen, that’s where we talked while I was making sandwiches the day Danny came over. I couldn’t seek peace in Stiles’ room, that’s where Derek tried on shirts and gave me the show of my life.

My entire house was my prison of memories.

But I was also too scared of staying there. I didn’t stick around to study his expression, but I had no idea how Derek was faring after last night. What if he came here to talk? I didn’t want to talk. I was afraid that just seeing him would make me melt and change my mind. He didn’t deserve forgiveness. Not yet. Not that easily. He had to understand that he hurt me and that I meant what I said when I quoted Stiles, ‘I don’t need this. I deserve better.’ 

I deserved better.

The only problem was that I had no idea what was better than Derek. When I was with him, everything was perfect. I was untouchable. I was safe. And even though I knew our car would eventually crash no matter what we did to prevent it, I still joined the joyride.

What did I deserve, then? He was the first guy I ever dated. My first kiss, my first everything. Even my first real doubt. Did better make you feel safe? Did better drive you home every time your brother forgot you somewhere? Did better give you his leather jacket when you were cold? Did better risk his safety with the hunters to save your life? There was nothing better than Derek.

He was the best.

Know those Russian babushka dolls with the smaller dolls inside? That’s how I could put this feeling into words. I was the big doll, but I was empty. I didn’t have a doll for joy layered inside me. No doll for sorrow, no doll for anger, no doll for heartbreak. Completely and utterly empty. It was no doubt that it was the bond’s doing. Sure, it wasn’t working that good lately, but the moment that I walked away from him, every instinct I had screamed for me to turn back, like I was walking away from the thing that was keeping me alive.

It took everything I had to ignore it.

And even now, while I was motionlessly staring ahead of me as I sat at my desk, several voices in my head chanted Derek’s name. They were deafening and echoed in my ears, that at some point I swallowed two pills that were meant for headaches. When they didn’t work I swallowed two more, and eventually, I had a total of eight pills in my system. They had no effect. Scott once told me werewolves can’t get drunk. I guessed the same went to pills.

The chanting reached a volume that made me want to claw my own brain out of my skull. I grabbed at my hair and pulled, digging my nails into my scalp and trying to find the courage to just… that explained why I almost didn’t catch my phone ringing behind me.

I tilted my head and saw all the way from the desk that it was a blocked number. Usually, I didn’t answer blocked numbers, but my gut told me to. With a hand high on jitters, I reached for my phone and pressed the answer button, “Hell… hello?”