You walk towards the group. As you approach you catch the tail end of Marco's story.
"—and I didn't know what to do so I ate it."
Everyone laughs. Everyone that is, except Izzie. She stares at him in horror. "You ate it?"
"You didn't see this old lady!" Marco cries. "She would have killed me if she'd seen me holding her prized daffodil! I had to hide the evidence!"
"Wait. Hold up. You ate a flower?" you ask.
Marco whirls around to face you. "Yeah... it wasn't exactly my finest moment."
"Were you in wolf form at least?" Vicky asks.
Marco's cheeks start to turn pink. He's smiling though. A cheeky, happy smile.
"You weren't, were you?"
"Look," he holds up his hands. "I didn't know you weren't meant to pluck the flowers. And then the lady was coming over, and she had these reeeaaalllly big gardening sheers. I didn't have time to think. I had to act. Desperate times call for desperate measures."
Izzie finally stops looks scandalised and giggles. "You ate a flower. That's so silly."
"Why are you telling this story?" you ask.
Marco's smile vanishes. "We were just sharing stories about Ed. He was there with me that day and... and I dunno. I just wanted to share a happy memory."
Next
You look around.
Marco settles himself back into a fold out camping chair and scoops up a bottle of tequila from the cup holder. He takes a swig, coughs, and then takes another for good measure.
Vicky sits a little away from the others and is toying absently with an unopened can of vodka and pineapple juice. She isn't going to drink it. Anyone who knows Vicky knows she's too much of a gym junkie to put something with so much sugar, alcohol, and so little nutritional value into her body.
Except, you're wrong. As you watch she cracks open the can and takes a deep gulp.
"Hey," you say, looking at her. "Are you okay?"
"Ed's dead," she rasps. "How the fuck am I meant to be okay?" She takes another deep swig.
"I'm sorry. Do you—?"
"Don't try to comfort me right now," she growls. "Don't fucking talk to me I..." she sucks in a slow, shaky breath. "I need a minute."
She stands and stalks off into the dark. You let her go.
It's past Izzie's bedtime. Despite that, she seems wide awake. She waves at you. There is a can of soft drink in her hand. Something bright, colourful, and no doubt full of sugar.
No wonder she's not sleepy.
Next
You settle down on a large dry-ish looking rock.
Marco launches into another story, this one about a shopping trip with the Alpha gone wrong. It's a happy story, full of life. You laugh when you're supposed to, which feels weird at first. You don't know if you should laugh at the dead. But eventually it starts to feel more genuine.
You're glad Marco's here making this moment about life and not death.
When you're sure no one will notice, you slip away from the group and walk over to where Vicky is standing. She's still holding her drink, staring out over the river.
"Hey," you say softly.
She doesn't reply but the line of her shoulders gets stiffer.
"Do you want to talk about it?" you ask.
"No," she replies. "Leave me alone."
"But..."
"I don't want to talk about it," she snaps. "Go away."
You know better than to push the issue. You retreat back to the group.
"Is she okay?" Izzie whispers as you settle back down to listen to Marco's stories.
"No," you reply.
Someone hands you a can of something. You crack it open and drink without looking at the label. It tastes like sugar, sugar, and more sugar. But that's okay. You listen to more stories, tell a couple of your own, laugh, cry, and wonder what the hell you're going to do now. Blackwell is gone. The pack is safe. Or are you? How can you ever be sure of that? There are other vampires in this city. And hunters. And God-only-knows what else. You take another sip of your drink and try not to think about it.
You're okay. Your pack is with you and Blackwell is where he should be, dead and gone. That's all that matters.
You finish your drink and look back towards the fire.
You lie awake that night, staring up at the cracked plaster ceiling, thinking.
You're...