Note: I've been waiting so long to post this chapter!!! I wanted the events in this book to go (mostly) in chronological order with the main one, so I had to hold myself back from putting this up. I'm only really letting the Extra/Alternative parts have some leeway. Still, I feel that same sense of excitement when it comes to Brad's Survival Arc (because SO much is going into that) and other parts I don't want to spoil! This one is so meaningful to me because it sheds light on how much Marshall truly cares for Brad, and how the pack comes to see him as one of their own too.

With the New Moon chapters coming to a close soon, and because I've brought up Brad's Survival Arc, I'd like some feedback from you guys! The section of chapters regarding Brad's life as a vampire is supposed to happen toward the end of Eclipse and runs all the way to the end of Breaking Dawn. Would you guys want me to write Brad's Arc at the end of Eclipse as planned, and then, when it's done, circle back around for the canon compliant Breaking Dawn extras? Or would you rather I do it the other way around where the Breaking Dawn extras are first (there are only 5 planned so far, but that might change) and follow that by doing Brad's Arc? Either way is fine with me. I'd just like to know how you, from a reader's POV, feel about it. Let me know! 😊

All that being said, get ready for some angst, fluff, and cute moments for this special (and longer) chapter!

***

"You know, normally when someone pisses me off, I tell them to go suck my dick or kiss my ass. But I don't want to give you the pleasure of thinking you ever could. So how about you go fuck yourself instead."

"Listen here, you damn leech-"

"See, I would. But the complete and utter bullshit you're spouting is overshadowing any intellectual capabilities you might have. So rather than lose any more sanity by continuing this conversation, I think I'm going to walk away and do something that won't cause my brain to leak out of my ears. Cool? Cool. Now, kindly, fuck off."

Marshall did his best to ignore the incessant shouts following behind him. They continued to get more unhinged with each step taken closer to an open entryway. Scuffling of chair legs rubbing against the floor made a sharp screech resonate throughout the room. It was followed by annoyed huffs as someone presumably grabbed Leah to keep her from starting a physical altercation with a certain vampire. Seth's calmer voice could be heard in the background as well, but it was difficult to hear him with his sister choosing to continue her unnecessary meltdown.

Crossing his arms, Marshall leaned against the front door's frame. Strands of hair fell into his field of vision, but he couldn't be bothered to move them. Instead, he forced himself to take controlled breaths in an attempt to calm himself down.

He really didn't understand how Leah had the energy to pick fights every single time she came over.

It was honestly insane—having that level of anger and only having the idea to put others down to expel it.

Marshall wasn't going to lie, he didn't like Leah. He barely tolerated her presence—only really doing so out of respect for their shared connection as pack members. Despite being family, however, similarly with the Cullens, it seemed ties joining them together didn't mean anything.

In Leah's eyes, even if he was an imprint, Marshall would never be anything but a bloodsucking murderer.

And she would never accept him.

Which, truth be told, wasn't actually a bothersome realization.

In some ways, Leah was a lot like Rosalie: unwavering to biased, prejudiced views; hotheaded when she didn't get her way; confrontational at the most minor of inconveniences.

After coming to grips with what a real familial support system was supposed to be like, Marshall was steadily letting go of his toxic younger sister. Their title as siblings was losing its strength. The need to ensure her happiness was becoming less and less of a priority. The thought of never seeing her again wasn't even painful anymore—it was relieving.

And if Marshall could feel that way about his own sister, it wasn't hard to feel that way about one of his pack mates.

Even so, he wished she would just ignore him altogether instead of trying to get in his face as soon as they saw each other.

Her constant screeching was making him overstimulated. Frustrated rebuttals from other members weren't helping. Neither were the gentler but still grating sounds of Emily and Paul working together in the kitchen to prepare a large meal.

It was one more jab of "the damn leech shouldn't even be here" which made Marshall explode.

His hands smacked against his thighs when bringing his arms down in exasperation. "Oh my fucking- would you shut the hell up already! We all get it- you don't like me! It's not new to anybody, and, frankly, you screaming about it got old a long ass time ago! And so have your constant attempts at trying to make me out to be a bad guy when I've never even done anything to you! But you know what? Since you want it so bad, you have my attention! Go ahead, keep fucking with me! Watch what'll happen-"

Everything came to a standstill when a familiar ringtone started belting out from Marshall's phone.

His lips pursed. His nostrils flared. Golden eyes rolled to the back of his head before shutting for a moment. A hand was brought up to pinch the bridge of his nose out of habit to stifle his rage.

The call was accepted, and the phone was brought up to his ear.

"This is Marsh."

Without knowing if he was speaking to a member of his coven or not, everyone else decided to stop talking—just to make sure no one said anything an outsider had no business hearing.

Feelings of irritation morphed into confusion, though, when Marshall's eyes widened.

His free hand moved up into his hair, taking a stressed hold of the dark waves draped over the crown of his head.

"Oh shit- what happened?!"

The person on the other line was speaking too softly for anyone else to hear them.

Still, it must've been important since, without warning, Marshall began scrambling to get his shoes on. 

"It's okay- just hold tight for me. I'll be right there, I promise."

The call was dropped. 

Once both sneakers were on, a mad dash was made outside.

All other members of the Uley pack, aside from Leah, ran after him out of genuine curiosity and worry.

"Hey, hey- Honey Bun- slow down." Paul grabbed his boyfriend by his shoulders, running his hands up and down both arms as a gesture to bring comfort. "What's going on?"

"It's Brad. He was- he got into a car accident." A frightened voice trembled while explaining. "He said he was on his way back home from hanging out with a few colleagues and, because the roads were wet, the other driver lost control and hit his car while crossing at an intersection. He's in the hospital. It's here in La Push because he was in the area when it happened. I'm just not sure where to-"

"Come on, I'll take you. It's not a far drive. Should only take us ten minutes."

Marshall nodded, doing his best to blink away forming tears. Handing his keys over, he and Paul continued toward the car parked nearby.

A dull knot formed in the vampire's stomach. His hands clung together in his lap, both thumbs running circles around each other. Unseeing, unblinking eyes were glued to the passing terrain flying by the front windshield once the drive to the hospital commenced. 

A single, stiff swallow caused the paw print pendant hanging from his choker to rub against the skin above his throat.

Was Brad okay? He sounded coherent and lucid on the phone, but his voice was scratchy. It could've been from the fatigue of whatever medications the hospital staff had given him. Or it could've been from screaming out in either pain or fear when being struck by another vehicle.

What if his injuries were serious? What if the ambulance took too long to reach him, and his condition was worsening by the minute? What if the hospital wasn't doing the appropriate imaging or screenings? What if-

"Stay with me, Marshmallow. I know you're worried, but I can see you plummeting in your own thoughts. It's only going to make you feel worse."

"I can't help it. I know he's probably fine, but- this is Brad we're talking about. I just- you know how important he is to me. How much he means to me. I don't want to lose him."

"You won't. If he was well enough to call you, then chances are whatever is wrong with him isn't bad enough to require any emergency intervention. Yeah, it's possible something could've been bruised or broken, but I doubt it's anything life threatening. You just gotta do what you can to stay hopeful. For yourself and for him."

Marshall bit the inside of his bottom lip to keep it from quivering. "I just want him to be okay."

"I know, baby. You just need to realize he's in good hands where he's at. I know this is a lot to handle- that it's scary. I'm scared too. But none of us- me, you, or Brad- are facing this alone. It'll be okay, and we'll all be together soon. And before you know it, you'll be able to see for yourself that everything is fine."

"...Promise?"

"Promise."

"...Okay. I- I'll try my best to relax. I'm sorry, Tiger."

"Nothing to be sorry about, Marshmallow. Not that you need permission, but you're allowed to feel these things. You don't have to apologize for having emotions."

Marshall released a long exhale.

His hands unclasped, taking refuge against the one waiting for him on the center storage bin separating both seats. Warm fingers interlaced with his own. They gave a gentle, reassuring squeeze, silently reminding Marshall that, as promised, he wasn't alone.

And he never would be ever again.

By the time they arrived at the hospital, the world felt like it was moving in slow motion and being seen through a filter.

A kind receptionist working at the front desk took the couple's information with a delicate smile. She searched through the medical database until finding the information she was looking for. Since Brad, in fact, wasn't classified as an emergency patient since his initial arrival a few hours prior, it was fine for him to receive visitors who weren't immediate family.

Then again, it wouldn't have mattered because, whenever emergencies did arise, Marshall was Brad's delegated person to contact.

Even if things took a turn for the worst, they would've been swiftly reunited either way.

After getting their visitor passes and being pointed in the direction of where to go, Marshall and Paul made their way into the temporary patient ward.

Beeping of heart monitors happened on either side of a wide hallway. Unoccupied gurneys were pushed by EMTs to clear the space. Friendly nurses donning short-sleeved scrubs walked around with tubes, vials, and other small pieces of medical equipment.

Shared rooms were divided by long curtains, while solo ones with occupants resting inside had their doors partially shut.

Brad's, thankfully, was completely open.

He looked up from his phone when hearing someone enter the room. "Hola, chicos."

"Oh, thank fuck."

The couple walked inside, standing beside the bed.

Marshall sat down to make it easier to hold his friend's hand.

Brad...didn't really look that bad.

There were small red splotches on random parts of his face and one of his arms, most likely to turn into purple bruising within the next couple of days. A thick bandage was plastered on his left cheek and beneath his jaw. Small, thin cuts were spotted along his neck, collarbone, and upper bicep.

Aside from those superficial injuries, however, he looked fine.

A little exhausted, which was a given, but still relatively normal.

"Stop that."

Marshall ended his physical assessment to gaze into a pair of tired hazel eyes. "Stop what?"

"You know what." Delicate passes were made against cold knuckles. "I'm fine."

"Are you really?"

Before Brad had a chance to answer, his attention shifted toward the room's entrance.

Marshall and Paul followed his gaze, only to be met with two staff members making their way inside. One of them was a doctor clad in green scrubs with a tag revealing the name Nadia. The other person was a nurse wearing purple scrubs with a badge showing the name Mikhail.

Both employees offered smiles to greet their patient and the people sitting with him.

"Oh, hi, honey. I didn't know you had company. Friends of yours?"

"Family, actually."

Nadia's expression softened further. "Glad to know. Is it okay with you if I go over everything with them here?"

"Yeah, that's more than fine."

"Good, good." The doctor looked down at her clipboard while the nurse moved to take out Brad's IV. "Fortunately, all of your scans came back pretty normal. The only exception was your MRI, and it wasn't anything super substantial. We've detected some partial muscle tearing in your neck and shoulder, most likely from where your seatbelt was. It's a grade 1 tear, however, meaning it should heal on its own. There will be some pain in the area, but it shouldn't be anything too bad. Aside from that, though, everything else is fine. Any bruising you have should go away in a few days too."

"So, he's all good?" Paul asked, resting a hand on Brad's uninjured shoulder.

"Yeah, all good. The only thing left to do is go over this last bit of paperwork with Mikhail, and you guys should be able to head out."

Brad nodded in understanding. "Thanks, Nadia."

"Of course. I hope you feel better soon, okay? You guys get home safe."

The doctor left after a discharge form accompanied by extra medical notes were handed over to the nurse.

As soon as he finished wrapping up a small puncture wound, he sifted through several papers. Passing glances were made through them for any vital pieces of information which needed to be explained.

Marshall allowed his body to sag in relief.

"Relájate, hermano."

"Relájate your face, pendejo."

Mikhail chuckled at their antics. "There's nothing super crazy you guys have to worry about. The biggest thing for you, Brad, is to make sure you take it easy for the next couple of days. No strenuous activities or anything like that. If your muscle tearing gets to be too much, alternating between cold and hot compresses should help you out. There's a prescription here for some heavy duty pain meds too that you can grab from the pharmacy on your way home. All clear?"

"Crystal."

"Good. Now, I just need to sort these out..."

Mikhail took a pen out of the breast pocket of his shirt.

With a small, breathy sigh, Brad got to work on signing a few papers. His penmanship was a bit sloppy since his dominant hand was still in Marshall's grasp. There was no attempt made to take it back, however, leaving his cursive handwriting to look more like chicken scratch.

Upon finishing, Mikhail offered his own warm salutation. A quick wave followed after him as he left to continue caring for other patients.

"...Suppose you guys wouldn't mind being my ride back to Forks? My car was totaled in the accident, so I don't have it anymore."

"I'll help you get another one." Marshall guided his friend out of bed by using his forearms like sturdy handles for better support. "And we're not going to Forks. You're coming home with us."

"Marsh-"

"No, Brad. I know Yasmine is still out of state, which means no one is even at home to take care of you if something were to happen. Besides, it'll give us some peace of mind to watch over you while you're recovering. I promise I'll take you back when you're good to be by yourself again."

Brad opened his mouth to form a rebuttal. It was never spoken into existence, though, and he frowned instead. "I wouldn't want to intrude. I've been staying at your place a lot lately."

"Which just means it's as much your home as it is ours," Paul interjected. "You're not intruding and you're not burdening anyone. Believe me. We only want to take care of you- especially while you really need it."

A faint uptick of the mouth alongside a gentle shake of the head was used to acknowledge a certain understanding of their scenario only having one true outcome.

La Push it was then.

"...Well, if you're sure."

Together, the trio walked out of the room and into the hallway. They made sure to stick to one side in order to stay out of the way of other people moving from place to place. Paul allowed himself to be used as smaller hands were planted on both shoulders to stay balanced. Brad was also given additional aid from behind with Marshall holding onto his hips.

Tires gliding along puddle-ridden roads greeted them. Random conversations from those coming and going moved in different directions. Whirring from an automatic rotating door lost its intensity with every step taken away from a lively hospital.

The vampire settled in the backseat of the car, allowing his lap to be used as a makeshift pillow. Tender caresses were made against unruly brunet curls. A steady heartbeat reverberated against a solid palm taking refuge over a defined chest.

Brad sighed in what could only be comfort. He nuzzled against the thigh closest to him to show he was content where he was.

With gold and brown eyes meeting in the rearview mirror, so began a quiet drive back home.

Natural body heat radiating through Marshall's clothes was...grounding, to say the least.

Unfortunately, It didn't work to completely soothe him.

Now that everything was calming down, he found himself overcome by a slight feeling of... anger? It wasn't really aimed at the man lying down beside him, but more so the situation as a whole.

Marshall didn't blame the other driver for not being able to control their vehicle while it was hydroplaning. He didn't blame the hospital for giving the deal-with-everything-at-home spiel. He didn't even blame Brad for waiting so long to tell anyone what happened to him.

Marshall was just...

No.

No, he wasn't angry, per se.

He was upset.

And even if the situation was fine now, the stress of believing it wouldn't have been made a harsh fear stir within him.

What would've happened if Brad hadn't come out of his accident with only slight bumps, cuts, and bruises?

Marshall couldn't stomach an attempt to truly consider such a terrible turn of events.

Tension only continued to escalate when Paul exited the car to make his way into the pharmacy, leaving the two friends alone. 

With heavy silence having settled in the space between them, it was easy to listen to a soft, continuous breathing pattern. Raindrops smacking against metal and glass were light. Occasional rumbles of thunder were muffled. The same went for the reverberant purr coming from the car's engine.

It was a peaceful atmosphere marred by pessimistic thoughts.

"En serio, relájate. Estoy bien. Estoy aquí contigo. No tienes que preocuparte-"

"You could've died."

"Sí, pero...I didn't." Brad placed his hand on top of the one resting over his heart. "I wasn't trying to scare you. I know you worry as much as you do because you care that much too. I know this...must've been a lot to deal with. Mentally. Emotionally. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize, just-" Marshall searched for the correct wording by glancing at random car features. "I got stuck in my head is all. That's not your fault."

"Still. I don't want to make you feel bad."

"You're not. Like you said, I get worked up because I care. I'll come down from it soon."

Brad gave a gentle hum to show he was listening. "Does anyone else know?"

"We were at Sam's when you called me. They were all pretty worked up themselves."

"Mm. We can stop by before heading home to tell them everything is fine."

That would be really nice, actually.

Ever since Brad was introduced to the Uley pack, he slowly wormed his way into their everyday lives. When more people started joining, more friendships began brewing. Dinners were shared, stories were told, and fond memories were given life. It didn't take much time for him to become "one of the guys".

Brad might not have known about the supernatural aspects of his new friends; but they felt, if he ever did find out, he'd most likely accept every single one of them as they were—just like he did for Marshall. 

The only people who hadn't met him yet were Seth and Leah since their introduction to the pack was still pretty fresh.

It was a no-brainer to imagine Seth and Brad getting along. Leah, on the other hand...

Cutie with a Booty:

Brad's fine

Wants to stop by to say hi

Please make sure Leah's gone within the next five minutes

Daily Dose of Serotonin:

No worries honey

She left a little after you guys did

If it's needed at all the guest bedroom is set up

You three can spend the night if you want

Cutie with a Booty:

Thanks Em

Daily Dose of Serotonin:

Is he hungry?

Homemade soup just got off the stove

"Pendejo."

"Still so mean to me, even when I'm not feeling well."

Marshall rolled his eyes, laughing. "Can you keep food down? Emily just got dinner done."

"That sounds nice. Yeah, I can do that. If anything, though, let her know I'm feeling a little nauseous."

Cutie with a Booty:

He can eat but keep it a smaller portion

Daily Dose of Serotonin:

Gotcha honey

See you soon

Cutie with a Booty:

❤️❤️❤️

Marshall continued to toy with curly strands after pocketing his phone. "When we get there, will you need help getting up the stairs?"

"Maybe- to be safe, I guess. Kind of feels like my body's crashing."

"That's probably because the adrenaline finally wore off. At least you're guaranteed to sleep really good tonight. I can already picture you snoring and starfishing until tomorrow afternoon."

"...Good to know your mission in being my own personal douchebag is still alive and well, cabrón."

"For you, babe? Always."

Brad's radiant grin came to life. His shoulders bounced in accordance with quiet snickers. The deep hum of his voice could be felt in his chest, vibrations traveling up his sternum. A feeling of genuine happiness caused his dimples to show, his nose to wrinkle, and his eyes to crease.

His bubbly reaction made Marshall laugh too.

"You guys having fun in here without me?"

"Party's not complete unless you're in it, Tiger."

Brown eyes narrowed in a playful manner before returning to normal. "Em texted me. We sleeping over her place, or are we going home after we eat?"

"Whatever el príncipe decides."

"Qué encantador. First an asshole, then a prince? Wow, Marsh, you really know how to woo a man."

*

Despite a sense of normalcy having returned among the group, it was easy to see Brad was struggling.

He shifted positions because having any sort of pressure on his ribcage made him uncomfortable. Minor cuts from glass flying at him forced a majority of the skin on his left side to feel raw and tender. Worsening soreness along his bruised body parts were met with half-stifled winces in slight pain. Having his neck jerk to the side at a fast speed made it hard to turn his head past a certain point.

That's why Paul and Marshall were careful in the way they moved. Both men had one arm around Brad, and the other was used to help him climb up the stairs with less strain on his body. They continued to hold him even after walking past the front door's threshold.

Metal spoons scraping against ceramic bowls paused.

"Brad!"

"Good to see you back, man!"

"You look tired, do you need anything?"

The man in question partially shielded his face out of embarrassment. "I'm fine, guys. Really. You don't have to go through so much just to make sure I'm comfortable."

Emily's mom instincts seemed to perk up at the notion.

She rose from her seat, placing her napkin down. Fluffy slippers dampened the sound of her feet moving across the floor. A faint shack, shack, shack noise escorted her across the dining room until she stopped in front of Brad.

He was given a cautious yet relieved hug. "We're just glad to see you're okay, honey."

"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to make anyone worry."

"We worry because we love you." She pulled back, offering a sweet kiss to the forehead. "¿Estás listo para comer?"

"Sí. Gracias, Em."

A few people scooted their chairs over to make sure Brad had enough space to sit down at the table. His setting was placed next to two vacant seats, most likely for Paul and Marshall, to his left. To the right, a certain doe-eyed shifter looked at his new companion with eyes full of pure amazement.

His reaction was expected, of course—seeing how much he adored going to plays and musicals in Forks.

Marshall introduced both people by gesturing between them. "Seth, this is Brad. Brad, this is a new buddy of ours, Seth. He's...a bit of a fan of your work on stage."

"Really? Aw, that's sweet. I've never really met one of my fans before."

"And I've never had dinner with two celebrities before," Seth squealed out. "My classmates are going to be so jealous."

"You should take a picture of all three of us. One when I'm feeling better, and one when we're out on the town together." Brad nudged his new friend in the arm with his uninjured shoulder. "After they find out we're all practically family, you'll be an absolute legend to the entire school."

"...I knew I was going to like you."

Marshall melted at the sight of some of his favorite people bonding without issue.

A chaste kiss was pressed into a bush of soft curls before he sat down in his chair. A strong arm wrapped around his shoulder, holding him close in a snug embrace. Delicate pecks were scattered along his cheek and successfully made him laugh.

Their shared supper at the Uley house had never felt more complete.