Written for the BlackPack Fanfiction Challenge 2010 on LiveJournal for Kailorien
Prompt--
Three Things I Would Like To See: Leah/Sam/Jake, Angst, Pouring Rain
Three Things I Don't Want To See: Cullens, Bella, Imprinting
Tears Like Rain
Another year has passed, and my dad is still gone. Another year, and I still haven't atoned for what I did to him, what I did to my family. Of all the times to discover that I have the genes giving me the ability to burst into a giant wolf, I had to find out then, right in the middle of a fight with my dad over something so stupid I can't even remember what it was now.
I pull another leaf off the low-hanging branch beside me and methodically shred it. I sit in the dirt with my back against the rough bark of a tree, having retreated deep in the forest, far from where hikers normally pass, away from the Pack's usual patrol lines.
Today's the anniversary of my dad's death, and I'm out here trying to remember him as he was, trying to remember the good times, to hang on to any of the joy we had when he was alive.
But I keep coming back to the day he died, and it's hard to remember much.
What I can remember clearly is the anger I felt, the overwhelming anger and the rage that made my whole body shake and quiver. And the heat. I was burning with a fever, or so I'd thought, and the unbearable warmth had made me want to claw at my skin to let out whatever it was inside that was burning me. Then, when my yelling hit a crescendo and all I could see was red, everything shifted. And I left the normal human life behind, unwillingly.
I glance up as the skies open and the rain starts to fall. It's always raining in the Olympic Peninsula. Rain comes down, giving me tears that I can't cry. I won't cry; I don't deserve the release I'd get from weeping.
Yet, even now, when I remember it, I still make it all about me. All about the life I lost. But it was really my dad who lost out that day. And my mom, since she lost her husband. And Seth; he lost a father. I had to give up my humanity, but they lost so much more. Because, really who am I? I'm just the rebellious daughter who couldn't take 'no' for an answer that night. I'm the mean older sister who never made time for her sibling, instead being too busy with her friends to take time off to hang with her kid brother.
And where are those friends now? Gone, thanks to the magical injunction of Sam's. Can't get too close to the normal population, or we might hurt someone. Yeah, I, of all people, should know, right? 'Cause I went and killed the person closest to me.
I dig my fingers into the dirt beside me and lift my face to the rain. I wish I could let it out and cry, to properly mourn for my dad. But I can't; not after what I did to him. This is my penance.
The dirt coating my fingers turns to mud and I roll it against my palms with my thumbs. In the muted light of the cloud-covered afternoon, all the color is sucked from the world, and the brown earth-and-water mixture on my hands looks gray. The trees are gray, the sky is gray.
The rain beats down harder and I scoot closer to the tree trunk, in vain seeking shelter. Lightning zigzags across the sky and a clap of thunder follows behind, making the tree's leaves tremble.
"You have a death wish, Leah?"
It's Jacob, melting out of the brush in front of me. He's pulling a pair of cut offs over his hips as he comes to a stop, his bare feet inches from mine in the mud.
"Death wish? What do you mean?" I ask tiredly. The whole point to coming way out here, away from civilization, is to get away from everyone. I'm tired of keeping up the bitchy act, weary of constantly having to snap at people in order to keep the scrutiny at bay. Often, I just have to punch someone to achieve the peace I crave, but today, I just want to be alone and quiet, to leave the violence behind for a few hours. It was violence and anger that got this whole mess started.
I wonder how long it will take to scare him off.
"Well, you're sitting under a tree in the middle of a rain storm, and there's lighting all around. Lightning hits trees and fries those idiots who choose to hide underneath them during a storm. I learned that in school. Maybe you shouldn't have dropped out, so you'd know this stuff, too."
Jake's confident grin annoys me. I slowly turn my signature glare on him and growl.
He snorts at me, completely unperturbed. "What? Are you growling at me? Just 'cause you're the one who's gonna get struck by lightning doesn't mean you can growl at your Alpha, Leah."
He laughs and plops himself down, sitting too close to me, leaning against the tree trunk.
His shoulder brushes mine and I shift slightly away, staring sullenly at my mud-splattered legs stretched out on the sodden ground.
"So, what are you doing way out here? Took me ages to find you; glad I got here before the rain washed your trail away."
He won't shut up, so I have to answer him, "That was the point, moron. I came way out here to get away from jerks like you who won't give me a moment's peace."
Jake glances over at me before grabbing my hand from where it lay on the ground.
I can barely hear his whisper over the pouring rain, even with my werewolf-enhanced hearing. "I understand, Leah. I've been through this, too, you know. . . . And it's okay to cry."
How does he even know why I came out here? I'm not phased; he can't see into my soul. I wonder if he'll go away if I ignore him. I try for silence, but the sound of the rain and flashes of lightning and the peals of thunder ruin that plan. It's too noisy out here to be quiet.
"I can't cry," I finally admit. "I just can't do it. It's all my f--"
"It isn't your fault!" Jake squeezes my hand and cuts my sentence off before I can finish what I was about to say.
"It isn't?" I exhale through my nose, scoffing. Boy, what wouldn't I give to actually be able to believe those words. Maybe then I'd be able to cry again. And if I could cry, maybe I could heal.
"No, Leah. Harry had a bad heart, he hadn't seen a doctor in years, and things just came to a point that day. It isn't like you intentionally murdered him or anything. No one blames you. You should know that, from seeing inside your brother's head."
I've seen all kinds of other wacky stuff in Seth's head in the time we've been wolves together, so I couldn't refute what Jacob was saying. Seth didn't have a hateful bone in his body.
Jake goes on, "If you need someone to blame, blame your mom, for making fish fry too many nights and clogging up your dad's arteries."
I can't hold back a surprised snigger.
"See? Knew that would get a smile out of you."
I school my face back into a frown quickly and snap, "I'm not smiling, and that isn't funny, Black."
"Whatever. You laughed. It was funny." Jake's voice sounds cheerful, like he doesn't have a care in the world, as though this is exactly where he'd be, right beside me, sitting in the rain, even if I weren't hiding from the world.
I realize that he's still holding my hand. The mud acts as glue and I can hardly wriggle my fingers from where they are threaded through his.
Oh, well. I find that I don't really mind all that much. I lean my head back against the tree and look up through the branches, letting the rain fall into my eyes and roll down my cheeks. It stings a little, but I don't care.
Softly, I say, "Last year, Sam found me out here. But he couldn't make me laugh."
"Yeah? Well, I'm cooler than Sam and can tell better jokes. Have a better body, too, don't 'cha think?"
The corners of my lips curl upwards without my consent.
But then, my head snaps up as I hear a growl from the brush in front of us.
Jake groans. "Seriously? You followed me, Sam?"
A soundless shimmer ripples over us, a moment passes, and our former Alpha emerges from the forest to stand right where Jacob was standing a few minutes ago. He's soaked, the rain hitting his bare shoulders with enough force to splatter back off. A detached part me notices that Jake is right; he DOES have a better body than Sam. But I shake it off. What am I doing, thinking something like that? I don't deserve either one of them, and it doesn't matter who is more ripped. Though Jacob definitely has an eight-pack, while Sam only—UGH!
My eyes refocus on Sam and I realize that he's staring at the clasped hands between me and Jake. His gaze meets mine and his eyes soften.
"Thought I'd find you out here again." His head swings to Jacob, "No, I didn't follow you; I just remembered from . . . before." He looks back at me.
"You okay, Lee Lee?"
How I hate that nickname. I really do. But it does bring to mind a happier time, a time where the most I had to worry about was what color to paint my toenails before a date with my then-boyfriend. Oh yeah, and whether my dad would catch me sneaking out at night to see said boyfriend.
Of course, then that boyfriend broke up with me out of the blue and broke my heart, and no matter how much I begged him, he wouldn't even tell me why.
My breath leaves me as I remember.
"It was you," I say in a flat voice, no emotion leaking out. "We were fighting about you the night he died."
Lightning flashes behind Sam's head as he ducks down and settles to the ground on the other side of me. He picks up my free hand and wraps his larger one around it, just like he used to, back before this whole crazy mess got started and life became so complicated.
"I was sneaking out and he caught me. And we started yelling at each other. He said I needed to stay away from you, Sam, that you had more important things to do than spend time with a silly little girl like me. He told me that you had a good reason to break up with me. And I shouted back at him that he didn't know anything, that he was just a stupid old man who was past his prime, trying to interfere in things he didn't know anything about."
The story rushes out of me, the words ripping from my chest as I blurt them out, trying to rid myself of the pain they bring.
I grimace. "I was the stupid one. He did know more than I did. Only, he didn't know his own daughter would become one of the creatures he knew so much about."
A lightning bolt flashes, causing my vision to whiteout for a moment. When my eyes come back into focus, the gray world swims and everything blurs together. The men sitting on either side of me are silent, each holding tightly to my hands, supporting me.
And the tears in my eyes fall.
Another year has gone by, and finally, I can cry.