The Mythical Creature's Guide to Modern Warfare (5/26)


"I spent my whole life watching her... being, y'know... tough.
And it was okay that she didn't let me in because... she didn't let anyone in. Right?
And then, umm, two years ago she meets Jack, and she's all fluttering, and whispering secrets and..."

Jocelyn in Dollhouse "Haunted"

Chapter Five, Echo

Literally rolling on the floor, Edward answered my question, "Because," he said through sharp intakes of unnecessary breath, "the Red Sox are playing."

As Charlie, Billy, and my dad are/were totally obsessed with baseball, I knew enough to know the Red Sox were from Boston. "I thought you were from Chicago," I asked curiously, dimly aware it was probably a bad idea, especially when Rose was pulling so hard on my arm Carlisle might have to put a cast on it before he can find out what my "female problems" are. It better not be pink, or I will go on the worst murderous rampage Washington has ever seen.

Wait, can you be charged with murder for killing technically dead vampires? I'll have to look into that.

"He is," Emmett said, perched on the back of the couch, his feet on the cushions, as he played some version of Halo. Whether he was playing to win or loose, he was doing fairly well by the way the TV kept shouting kill-statistics. I briefly wondered if playing these bloody games ever made him hungry, "but the White Sox game was cancelled do to rain."

Jasper, who was infected with both his brothers' emotions and my growing anger as I realized what was going on, was half-glowering, half-laughing at the computer. "Shut up!" he yelled, and for a moment I thought I'd a second Hale ally, "I'm trying to write a paper on the Red Scare over here."

"I," I said tightly, trying to break away from Rose, "am going to send you monkey-slapping cocksuckers back to your mouldering graves!" I swore.

"Very nice, puppy," Rose said, trying to take me upstairs were, presumably, Carlisle was already waiting to poke me with cold instruments, "but unless you want Emmett as your vet-"

"Hell, no!" I shouted, knowing full well she'd do it to, letting her take me away, while the ten-toed wonder gaped at his wife and said, "Now, babe, you know how I feel about bestiality." To which my response was as I ran up the stairs, going from one emotional extreme in the batting of an eye, "Go lick an octopus."

The moment we reached the "doctor's office," I started worrying again. 'Cause I had to be dying, you know, because that honestly was the only possibility why, after years without one, I suddenly had my period. Or something that seemed like my period. Because, honestly, I'd gotten quite used to the idea of being a menopausal freak of nature. I don't know if I could handle this again. Worrying about things like getting pregnant, which I most assuredly didn't want, especially when Jake was still in school, even if he had converted to Team Billy. By which I mean, suddenly had this idea that anyone raising children at a rock, let alone me, would be this grand idea. And other things like how we can scarcely afford gas, how'll we afford condoms?

Okay, I know I said I'd given up on worrying, but what the fuck else do you do when you start bleeding internally? Even if – no, especially if its a natural human process? 'Cause, God-dammit, I'm a werewolf, not a normal person. I'm not supposed to have normal human processes.

Oh my god. What if it's not a period? What if Jake was right and I'd a dusty egg lying around and this is a miscarriage? That would so totally suck, even if I never did want children...

I've got to stop thinking like this. No eggs, no periods, no possibility of cub conception. Just internal bleeding caused by too much sarcasm and the cyanide Esme's been lacing our food with. 'Cause wolves don't have periods, they have this oestrous thing during which mating pairs apparently smell like sex to each other, and-

Oh my god. Oh my fucking monkey god, I've got to stop panicking. Dr. Dracula hasn't even said anything yet, and I'm already freaking out. Must stop this. Just think about how badly the boys will tease you when they hear about what a girl I'm being. Must think about ways to torture bloodsuckers instead. Sparkly objects held out of reach, bad zombie movies, Sailor Moon and High School Musical, a bloody towel left in their kitchen, a kitten left in their kitchen...

"Well, this is interesting."

"No its not," I insisted. I refused outright to let anything that might happen why my body be interesting. I've seen House. I know what it means. At least Chase had a cool Aussie accent. I think my life might be complete if Jake had an Aussie accent... Must think with brain, not bleeding parts. Must concentrate...

"I'll have to do some tests to be certain, but I believe, Miss Clearwater, congratulations are in order." Congratulations? I don't want any freaking congratulations. You don't congratulate people when they're dying of cyanide poisoning. Unless he's congratulating me for being the first werewolf to die of it? Please, please, please, let him just be very much shocked that it worked to kill me. Tell me that he was expecting to have to resort to plutonium, or something. They probably have their own nuclear reactor somewhere in the basement too, just for this. "It seems you've returned to the world of the fertile."

"What!" I screeched, hopefully loud enough to damage his bat ears, not believing what I was hearing. This can't be fucking possible. I want another doctor! Get me Frankenstein, Soong, or Rappaccini. Hell, get me a drunk off the street – because Carlisle can't possibly be right. Obviously, years of sniffing all sorts of medical chemicals have damaged his oxygen-deprived mind.

Rose, thinking I was an idiot – and I suppose I was doing a fairly good impression of one at the time – "He means-"

"I know what he fucking means. I'm just saying its impossible."

"You are a werewolf talking to a vampire doctor," said Rose, calmly examining her nails. "I think the level of impossible things in this room can deal with the slight fact that you're getting your monthlies again."

"No, it freaking can't. Because that means your half-priest husband is right, and if that happens, the world might implode on itself. I mean literally." I did a vague hand motion that was supposed to illustrate this, but failed entirely. Stupid hands. Stupid werewolf genes. Stupid Alpha. "I think I have to go kill something now."

"There're some spiders in the basement we've been meaning to get rid of-"

"Shut up, Rosalie, and go give your husband a hand-job."

She shook her head. "It's no use. He never pays attention to me when he's playing Halo."

Carlisle looked like this was just, even after spending the better part of a century raising eternal teenagers, just too much information. I thought it was too much information, and this was me. I'd mind-blowing sex yesterday against a tree right along the trail to the rock. I mean, really people.. "At this point," he said, "I think I will go to work."

"But what about Leah's tests?"

"I think we can do them at a time when she feels more disposed towards sitting still."

He was right. I'd been pacing the room ever since I'd entered it, franticly trying not to phase in the middle of Vampville. "Stick-fucking, ass-jumping, squirrel-chasing, ant-humping mother-fucker!" I muttered to myself, growing more loud as Carlisle left the room and his generally calming presence went with him. "I am going to kill Jacob Black."

Now sitting on the little medical bed-thingy that doctor's have in their rooms – not gurneys, but the other kind, the one that usually has stirrups attached to it at OB-GYN's – Rose looked at me curiously, with a touch of sadness in her eyes. I knew her well enough to know by now that, had our positions been reversed, she'd be downstairs doing her husband, Halo or no. "Why?"

"Because it's so obviously his tail-chasing fault!"

"You may not be surprised to hear it, Scooby-Dudette, but I'm not following your strange wolf-logic."

I say it as I think it, all sense further thought might insert into my words not to be found, "Turned wolf, no periods. But Sam was Alpha, but not the proper Alpha. Then Jake broke off. Became proper Alpha. Wolves mate in winter. Hormones start changing in fall. This first fall since Jake became Alpha. Thus, periods."

She blinked very artificially at me for a long time. And then, "You know, it kinda freaks me out, but I think I followed that."

"I'm going to kill that mother-fucking tit-squeezer with his own axe, singing Disney songs, and hide the pieces of him in the boys' locker room."

"He has an axe?"

I ignored the Blonde Bimbo and started for the door. "I'm going to have to steal one of your cars though... and maybe a chainsaw..."

"You might want to get actual clothes first, though, and maybe some underwear before going on a murdering streak at the high school."

"I-" I looked down at my dress and saw that, indeed, spots of blood were starting to show on it. "Stupid, cock-sucking, scrotum-licking, ass-fancying bag-raper!" I shouted even louder now, so it echoed down the hallway and down into the living room, where the boys were surely laughing even more heavily over it. "This was my favourite too." I gave an exasperated sigh, imagining that prisoners going to their executions sounded happier then I did at the moment. "Point me in the direction of the clothes, gaoler."

Rosalie restrained herself to clapping enthusiastically, and led me to her vamp-sister and my possible doom. At least this day couldn't get any fucking worse...

And if it did, I was going to take that axe and go after the bitch Fate herself and give her what was coming to her, starting with a long drop into a pot of burning oil and ending with her joining Jake in the boys' locker room walks, listening to a CD of Zack Efron's greatest hits for the rest of eternity. Just see if I'm kidding. I mean just fucking try me.

I thought not.

Chapter Six.