Chapter Text
It had been a week since Gabe died.
Since Nolan killed him.
That night was still crystal clear in Nolan’s mind, like he hadn’t slept—hadn’t even blinked—since it happened. He remembered the horror deep in his stomach as he watched Liam, Corey, and Theo slowly breathe in Wolfsbane-laced air from his place in the observation room, stuck watching them as they came closer and closer to dying. He remembered the burning, itching, skin-tingling feel of Gabe’s touch on his shoulder as the boy whispered that they needed to just let it happen. He remembered the horror at realizing that Gabe… Gabe was using him—that Gabe was a monster. He remembered the way Gabe’s fingers felt against his throat, the way Gabe looked at him like Nolan was nothing but prey—nothing but a problem to be snuffed out. … He remembered the sickening scent of blood overwhelming his senses, remembered the feel of it against his face as blood trickled down from Gabe’s slit throat. He remembered Gabe’s body collapsing limply—lifelessly—against him.
Gabe’s death had felt good, in the moment. Had felt… freeing. Nolan saved Liam and his friends. He stood up for himself. He got out of that toxic situation. At the time, all of that had him feeling brave—powerful.
He hadn’t truly considered the aftermath of it all: how every single hunter in town would view him as enemy number one after killing one of their own and betraying them; how he wouldn’t be able to walk out of the McCall house without at least one pair of eyes on him like he were prey; how he’d be back to his old self now that Gabe was gone—the old Nolan that everyone hated.
… That he hated.
There was something gnawing at him deep inside that couldn’t help but wonder if Gabe was right… Maybe no one would want him, now that Gabe was gone. Maybe he was destined to wander the Earth alone.
Nolan wasn’t completely alone, of course; he had the McCall pack by his side, at least one member of the pack by him at all times. Normally, it was what Scott called the ‘Puppy Pack’—Liam, Mason, and Corey at his side during the entire school day, and often after class when they all would go to Liam’s to discuss the hunter/Anukite problem. Occasionally Theo would join them, hanging out in the back, more like a shadow in the background than an actual person. Nolan would eat lunch with them, or study, and at times it felt like they were really friends: they shared laughs and stories, and there were times when Mason or Liam would pat him on the back or squeeze his shoulder. It was easy, in those minutes, to feel accepted. Like he belonged.
It wasn’t lost on him, however, that none of them would be anywhere near him if they didn’t have to be. If their Alpha didn’t tell them to always keep an eye on him, they wouldn’t bother to even look in his general direction let alone actually hang out with him. He had hurt them, after all—had stabbed Corey, and beaten up Liam.
He didn’t belong. He knew that.
In a way, Nolan felt more like a burden than anything else—just one more thing the Pack had to worry about when they were already in the middle of a literal war. They were all babysitting him when they could’ve been out stopping Monroe or finding the Anukite.
Sometimes he felt like running when their backs were turned—rushing out on his own and letting nature take its course. … Sometimes he felt like just turning himself into Monroe, and letting the hunters kill him like how he had killed Gabe.
He started to, once, when the puppy pack was sitting in Liam’s living room playing Mario Kart. With the trio distracted, it had seemed easy enough to slip out the front door—except, the shadow of the group, Theo, had followed him right out onto the porch. He’d moved right to Nolan’s side, hands in his pockets, and looked up at the darkening sky. “It’s a nice night, huh?” Theo had said, but nothing more—nothing about catching Nolan trying to run away, nothing about the dangers lurking there on the outside. Nolan almost wished he had said something—wished he had scolded him, or lectured him about the rules of staying with the group. At least then it would’ve given voice to what they all knew was true: Nolan was a burden.
A broken burden.
Nolan noticed it for the first time when he was at the McCall household during a pack meeting; how every single member of the pack had their own partners, and how they couldn’t seem to keep their hands to themselves. All of them seemed drawn to their partners, hands moving instinctively to theirs, absentminded kisses, random cuddling. Even their resident shadow always found himself next to Liam, their legs always brushing against each other or fingers intertwining.
They were all so… infatuated with their partners. So drawn to them that the way they moved with and to each other seemed almost instinctual.
Nolan wanted something like that: a relationship where he was so in love that he didn’t have to think about the physical parts, a love that made his body move almost on its own, like a tether, keeping him connected to that person. He wanted to be so in love that he didn’t have to think about physical contact—where the kissing and hand-holding and anything more was as easy and instinctual as breathing.
Nolan had never had that, not even with Gabe. He had felt drawn to him, sure, his eyes always finding Gabe’s even in a crowded room and feeling like his whole world somehow revolved around him, a gravitational pull keeping Nolan close by. But everything else… Everything else felt near impossible. If he even thought about kissing, or making out, or… anything more… he felt himself get ill, like the very idea of it happening to him was absolutely repulsive.
Nolan had done things, with Gabe. He'd made out with him, let him run hands under his shirt, had even... had sex. But each time, it had felt like his skin was burning with each passing touch. Each time, he'd felt an awful sickness in his stomach, something screaming deep inside that he didn't like it--that he would rather throw up and set his skin aflame than continue on with it. ... He had always continued, for Gabe. Had always put himself through the pain, because it made Gabe happy. He had never said no. Even when he curled up in a ball and sobbed by the end of it all, he never asked for it to stop--never let himself voice the fact that he hated it more than anything in the world.
Still, it had been awful.
Nothing like the instinctual, unconscious behaviors the Pack always displayed with their partners.
Maybe, he just needed someone more suited to him than Gabe had been—maybe he never really felt the love that brought about that instinctual, impulsive behavior.
Maybe he was just doomed.
He felt doomed.
Doomed to be a burden. Doomed to be the odd man out. Doomed to be broken. Doomed to be…
Nothing.
He could hear Gabe in the back of his head, those hurtful words he’d sneered at Nolan in his last few minutes on repeat. You’re nothing. You’re not normal. No one likes you. You can’t even deliver. You’re not normal. You’re nothing.
Nolan wanted to argue with that voice—to push and shove and scream that that wasn’t him, that he wasn’t as useless as Gabe always made him out to be. That he already won this battle; he fought against Gabe and his toxicity and he had come out on top.
It was hard to argue with a ghost.
Nolan thought he had truly won, because he was alive and free and Gabe was gone. … Except now it felt like Gabe was the one having the last laugh, because he was now forever inside Nolan’s head. Forever poisoning his thoughts. It was hard to escape Gabe when he now only existed in his mind.
It was hardest to avoid Gabe’s voice at school, in passing periods and during boring lectures. Hardest to avoid Gabe’s you’re not normal, you’re not normal, you’re not normal when he was forced to be surrounded by the so-called normal teenage behavior. Everywhere he looked, there were couples making out in the halls, kissing their hellos or goodbyes, cuddling up together next to lockers, rushing to closets or unused offices for something more. Even in class, people would play footsie under their desks or hold hands. Sometimes couples would ogle each other and shoot air kisses from across the room. Stuck in the midst of it, Nolan couldn’t help but delve deeper and deeper into those spiraling thoughts, Gabe practically laughing. You’re not normal, Nolan. You’re not normal, you’re not normal, you’re not normal.
It was getting harder and harder to not start believing those words.
When Gabe died, Nolan insisted that he was done with letting Gabe’s words control him. He had been so sure that he had grown strong enough to overcome those toxic ideas Gabe tried to force him to believe.
The thing was, at the time, Nolan had been running on adrenaline and emotion. He had been acting on impulse. With Liam and the others literally dying in the other room, Nolan hadn’t had time to think, to process. It had felt good—euphoric, even—to be free of Gabe and his toxic ideas.
Now, with nothing but time to think on his hands—with nothing but time to truly process—he was realizing that killing Gabe didn’t make the thoughts go away, didn’t make his last words any easier to swallow. Gabe’s body might be gone and buried, but those accusations of nothing, of not normal, of no one would even want you still lived on.
Now, even with Gabe being gone, Nolan couldn’t help but wonder if he had still been right.
It was this thought that had gotten Nolan into trouble, lately, because Gabe’s voice in the back of his head was becoming less and less an echo of a memory, and more like an actual voice. More like Gabe actually whispering.
This had become reality in the school cafeteria, when he was standing in line to retrieve his food. He was standing next to a girl who was absentmindedly typing on her phone with one hand, her tray held in her other. As she typed, she moved subconsciously back, her arm brushing up against Nolan’s. He thought nothing of it, really, until—
Careful, you don’t want to puke on a pretty girl’s shoes just because you can’t handle physical contact.
Nolan’s tray slipped from his fingers, his hands going completely slack. He could feel the heat of Gabe’s breath against his ear, his voice so real—so physically there.
He couldn’t breathe. It was like Gabe was choking him again, except instead of hands wrapped around his throat it was his fucking voice whispering in his ear like a homicidal siren, the mere existence of it drowning him.
He couldn’t breathe.
He couldn’t breathe!
See, this is what I’m talking about, Gabe’s voice sneered, it’s not normal to have a panic attack just because someone fucking touched you, Nolan.
Tears were prickling in Nolan’s eyes, his vision blurring. His body was starting to tremble.
He couldn’t breathe.
Hands met his shoulders, his arms, and he almost screamed, his body flooding with pure horror. It terrified him to his core, the idea that he’d turn around and find Gabe behind him, that cruel smile playing on his lips, and the manic predator-like spark in his eyes.
He only managed to hold it in when he saw Liam standing next to him, his eyes wide with concern. “Nolan? Nolan, what’s wrong?”
He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out but a broken-out gasp.
“Shit, okay. Okay, it’s fine. You’re fine. We’re going to get you out of here.”
The hands guided him out of the cafeteria, practically holding him up as his knees bucked and wobbled with every step.
He couldn’t breathe.
“Here.” Liam pushed open the bathroom door, holding it open so Mason and Corey could lead him—halfway dragging him—inside.
Once inside, Mason and Corey slowly lowered him to the floor. Liam crouched down in front of him.
Nolan gasped for air, for some explanation, but his breath kept hitching. His chest felt tight, like Gabe somehow had his heart in his hand and he was squeezing and squeezing.
“Nolan, you have to breathe. You have to breathe, okay?” Corey said from somewhere in the distance, panicked.
He couldn’t breathe.
His hand rushed to his chest, his fingers curling up around the fabric.
He couldn’t breathe!
It felt like Gabe was killing him, choking him, pressing all of the air out of him.
Gabe was killing him—just like Nolan did to him.
He couldn’t breathe.
The room blurred and twisted, either from the tears or the lack of oxygen—he wasn’t sure.
He just knew that he was dying. He was dying!
“Hey. Hey!” Liam grabbed Nolan’s face, cupping it in both of his hands. “Look at me, Nolan. Focus on me.”
It was hard to focus when everything was so blurred, and the echo of Gabe’s voice was starting to scream in the back of his mind. Not normal! Not normal! Not normal!
Still, Liam nodded. “That’s it. Focus on me. We’re going to breathe together, okay? Just follow me. That’s all you have to do—just follow my lead.” He pulled his hands away from Nolan’s face and instead placed them heavily against Nolan’s shoulders. Then, he began to breathe. “In,” he’d say, before taking a deep breath, “out.”
Nolan tried, and failed, to follow Liam the first time or two. Eventually, though, he got the hang of it. However shaky, he managed to take deep breaths and slowly release them. His body was shaking, shaking, shaking, and he felt off—like the breaths weren’t quite right—but he still managed to breathe. Still managed to ground himself there, thanks to Liam.
He wasn’t dying. Gabe wasn’t killing him. Gabe was gone.
He was safe. … As safe as he really could be, anyway.
“Good,” Liam squeezed his shoulder. “Good job. You’re okay. Everything’s okay.”
Nolan gave a weak nod, moving his head to rest against the wall. He suddenly felt so… weak. Like he’d just ran a marathon.
… Like he’d actually fought against Gabe for his life once more.
“What happened back there, No?” Mason asked, softly. “Did… did someone say something to you? Do something?”
Nolan squeezed his eyes shut, flinching at the memory—at the feel of Gabe’s breath on his ear, so physical he swore that he was actually there.
Still, “No,” Nolan answered, weakly. “Nothing like that.”
Why don’t you tell them?
Nolan tightened his eyes closed, a broken-out whimper escaping as Gabe whispered into his ear once more.
Tell them how you had a full-on meltdown because someone simply touched you. He could feel the breath, could practically feel the body heat of Gabe moving in closer and closer to him until he would be just millimeters away. Go on. Tell them how much of a broken mess you really are.
Nolan had to bite back a frightened sob, pulling his knees to his chest and tucking in his arms, goosebumps running up his skin at the feel of the imagined heat. It felt so real, too real.
“Hey…” Mason reached out to touch him, but as soon as Nolan felt the heat of Mason’s palm he flinched violently away. “Right! No touching.” Mason retreated immediately. “Got it.”
“Nolan, seriously,” Liam said, his tone becoming less soft—more mature. “You reek of fear. Something had to have triggered you.”
Nolan wanted to tell them—to explain… but what was he supposed to say? That he was hearing Gabe’s voice in his head? That he could feel Gabe whispering in his ear, taunting him—haunting him? How was he supposed to explain that, without them thinking he’d gone completely insane? And then there was what the voice was actually saying—the part about physical touch and the not normal, not normal, not normal.
They’d never understand.
… They’d think he was crazy, or broken—just like Gabe did. Just like Gabe always said they would.
“Did you see one of Gabe’s hunter friends?” Mason offered, and—it was as close to the truth as he could get.
“I… heard one,” Nolan said quietly. Blinking up at Liam, he wiped at his tears. “I… I’m sorry. It just came out of nowhere. I…”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Liam rushed, then slowed down and said—more calmly, more sagely, “it’s okay.”
“Yeah,” Corey offered him a wobbly smile. “With the Anukite, everyone’s a little on edge. It’s okay to be scared.”
Mason nodded. “But that’s also why we’re here—to keep them all away from you. To make sure you stay safe, until this whole war goes away.”
It was sweet, that saying—almost comforting. It would have been comforting—if it weren’t for the fact that nothing could keep him safe from the demon that was now living rent-free inside of his own mind.
His only saving grace was that Corey was right—the Anukite was putting everyone on edge, triggering everyone’s fear. Hopefully, this whole thing—the nagging thoughts, and the jumpiness, and Gabe’s whispering—would all stop when they defeated the Anukite.
He just needed to survive until then.