previously titled beserk
A young gay witch with deadly powers on the fringe is traveling the U.S. in search of a substitute for suppressing his magic and a way to control his powers. Ezra Pierce was born into a religiously strict family with no one...
"people go but how they left always stays" w o r d c o u n t : 1,091
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He couldn't breathe, he couldn't speak, he couldn't think. It sent him into an existence of agony. The guilt consumed him, invading his every pore and orifice and pulled him apart at the seems.
Alice's visions were clouded by the wolves. She was so focused on Bella and the Volturi that Nik slipped completely though the cracks, having though to be safe under Ezra's care, Alice missed it over and over again, one thing or another. Meaning they walked straight into a ticking time bomb.
Edward was gone, consumed with being reunited with his lover after attempting to kill himself and forcing her to make the trip to Italy.
Bella's dad was pissed, predictably. He even called Ezra to find out if he knew anything, only to get Paul Lahote, a boy who had made his appearance in the back of Charlie's squad car one too many times.
She was grounded and their time limited, but that never stopped them from spending every minute of every day together the moment she went up to her room.
"Hello, Ezra." Esme greeted warmly as she walked through the door, carrying a stack of clothes and trinkets. "You missed our weekly phone call." She chided as she set the items on a stray chair and brushed into the living room where Ezra had set up camp.
A thin yet plush blanket had been draped over his form, thanks to Paul who had a Spanish soap opera playing on the TV that only he could understand.
Ezra faced was sitting up, his eyes blank as they rested on the TV, a half-empty cup of cold tea in his hands. His clothes were crumpled and old, his hair greasy and unwashed, hanging limply past his shoulders in desperate need of a trim.
How he could get so bad so quickly was beyond them. But Paul, having watched him deteriorate, was in a similar pain, seeing the boy he loved so completely succumb to anguish.
That and trying to face the loss of his best friend. It took everything in him to just get out of bed.
Esme gasped slightly and Paul glanced up from the TV. He leaped over his chair effortlessly, pressing a soft kiss to Ezra's temple as he passed, whisking Esme from the room and outside where the rest of the Cullens were gathering their things from a maroon SUV.
Paul avoided Rosalie's peering eyes, signaling them instantly that something was wrong.
"What is it, Paul?" Carlisle was the first to ask. "Is everyone alright?" His eyes flicked momentarily to Alice, watching the tiny shake of her head.
The doors swung open and Ezra stood in the doorway, looking like death itself. "Ezra," Paul soothed, seeing the way Ezra glared at the blonde vampire. "Go back inside."
"Niki's dead!" He blurted out, tears welling in his eyes. Every night it was like a competition, who would wake the other up with a nightmare. They would have to hold the other down until he regained his senses and calmed down. It was worse than a night terror because at least then you get the privilege of forgetting. Ezra could remember every detail. From the way, his best friend's blood felt on his skin to how empty she looked when her eyes flew open and she called him a murderer. "Niki's dead." He repeated, slumping against the doorframe as Paul hurried to scoop him up, gathering the boy in his arms.
Rosalie was frozen before comprehension hit her and she hit her knees. "No," she whispered, her voice welling like a storm. "No, you're wrong. You have to be fucking wrong!"
"Do I look like I'm wrong?" Ezra demanded, the snarl on his face animalistic.
"You were supposed to keep her safe!"
Ezra ripped from Paul's grip, jabbing his finger at the vampire. "You don't get the privilege of making this my fault! This is on you! We didn't ask for you to pick up and leave! I didn't ask to take care of the shattered girls you left behind!" His voice dropped to a whisper. "How dare you have the audacity to suggest I could have defeated an entire coven on my own. If you were here she could have lived. We would have never gone out if it weren't for you and all the pain you caused! She hated you. She died hating you."
"Ezra," Paul hissed. "Don't." As much as he completely despised the blonde, he knew how much she loved Nik because he loved her just as much and it wasn't fair for him to put blame on her. It wasn't anyone's fault but that coven.
"Why not?" He demanded, slithering out of Paul's arms and stumbling down the stairs. "She was my responsibility! They were there for me! They wanted me!" He stumbled over a crack in the driveway and crumbled, hitting his hands and knees. Blood began to bubble from the scrapes on his hands and he felt his jeans tear. Letting out a scream of frustration, he pounded his fists into the cement. "It's unfair! It's so fucking unfair!" He screamed hoarsely as blood bubbled from his split knuckles. Before Paul could stop him, Rosalie seized his hands and tugged him into her arms.
They both had loved her so completely, much like everyone Nik had met. She was so kind and funny and it was so easy to love her.
And it was so completely shattering to lose her.
Ezra couldn't imagine what kind of pain Rosalie was feeling. Her arms were wrapped around him without tender, squeezing so tightly he had a sneaking suspicion she had cracked one of his more tender ribs. But as much as it hurt, the pain helped him anchor himself. It made him feel more present. More alive.
Paul lingered near the door, keeping an ear out for any sign of distress. The grief ridden blonde was never predictable, even before. Tears welled in his own eyes and he blinked them back hurriedly. Her loss had torn through Paul's chest and now he was just empty.
"Was she happy?" Rosalie choked out. She couldn't physically shed a tear and for that, she felt an anchor of guilt weighing heavily on her stomach.
From where his head had come to rest on her shoulder as the two tangled themselves together through their grief, she could feel him nod. "She was so happy. She forgave you, too. She was moving on but she still loved you."
That relieved her more than the possibility that Nik was still desperate for Rose. It was exactly what she wanted when she left. Nik had gotten over her and moved on. Of course, she would always love Rosalie. But she was happy again. She died human.
