Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I claim none of it.
Boats Against The Current
Chapter One
She has never been one for hysterics. They do nothing for her. Leah's the one to come to in a crisis, everyone knows it. Still, she wonders if they would be surprised at just how quickly she works it all out. There is fifth teen minutes between the end of her world and the start of her new one, fifth teen minutes from the moment she watches her dad fall and the moment she understands. Or, at least begins to understand.
She vows never to speak of those minutes, they are hers alone and lost to everything and everyone else. Her mind was not under her control, neither her feet-paws or finger-claws. No one has the right to see her like that.
She is a werewolf. A protector. She could hardly miss that, what with the four legs she stands upon. Seth is one too, she'd seen him with a tail, sandy fur standing straight out. But then, why cant she hear him? The legends of her people, tales she had thought much too tall not an hour ago, were her bedtime stories, her lullabies, her first reading material. She knows them like the back of the hands that she no longer has.
The Protectors are of one mind, seamless communication and understanding that makes them the ultimate fighting machine. The silence isn't her only concern, the protectors are the men - boys - of the tribe and she certainly isn't that. She is missing something. They are all missing something.
To begin with she runs, her legs eating up the miles and taking her as far from her fallen father as possible. The sight of him - breathless, eyes wide, frightened - won't leave her, it circles like a vulture at the back of her mind as she thinks, waiting for its moment. She refuses to give it one and so keeps running. Nothing is certain yet, nothing is fact.
She felt Seth try and follow at first but he quickly stopped, turning and heading deeper into the woods while she ran up the coast. She only stops when there is no more to north than water. That same something new tells her it isn't far enough but she ignores it, collapsing in a heap in some dark corner of the woods. She wants to see nothing but black, smell only decay in her new wolf nose and feel hard, barren earth underneath her paws. Life is painful, too bright and fragrant.
Then there is nothing but waiting. Limbo. She replays her history-turned-future, losing the present in the haze of memory. Her dad's voice plays like a record in her mind as she gleams each and every detail from him. Speed. Heat. Strength. Duty.
They - Seth and her - aren't alone. It all makes sense, Sam and his disappearance, his gang.
For just a moment, one single second, she feels nothing but gratitude for Sam. He had withdrawn from her, tried to keep her from this new life. The feeling quickly passes and she goes back to that familiar burning resentment, wallowing in the comfort of the its dry heat. There is still Emily and betrayal from both sides, that she cannot forget or forgive.
The smell of them comes much before she sees them. It's well into the night by then and she had long ago given up her dark corner, moving down past Ozette Lake and pacing circles into the forest floor north of Forks. There are four of them - North, South, East and West - each with their own variant of what she guesses is the patent werewolf smell and their own wet, sticky rhythmic beat.
West gives himself away first, the wind working against him as it blows off the sea and brings him straight to her nose. Instinctively, she turns east. Not even five minutes of running and she scents number two, closer than the first. Without even needing to turn north or south she knows exactly what is happing. That new element in her mind, instinct, tells her to run, to get away from these bigger, stronger threats, but she isn't an animal and refuses to be ruled like one.
So she stays, sitting pretty like a dog waiting for a treat and snorting massive puffs of air at the irony of it.
Her bravado, her human sense of dignity, they go flying as soon as they come into sight. West and East are big, East the colour of a dirty nickel and the other a sombre brown and it is all too easy for these new eyes track the thick muscles that coat each inch of them. They are nothing compared to the other two, both as big a show horses and teeth as sharp as ice picks that seem to draw the little light the moon smuggles through the dense canopy. There is little difference between them in size but she thinks South might just have the edge over the pure black monster from the north. She's up now, on all fours and she can feel each and every hair on her enlarged body as it sounds yet another warning. Her eyes refuse to meet theirs, intent as they are on the rippling and flexing mass of power that sits below the neck.
No, she whispers, no. She'll wait, she needs news, needs answers. No matter what is happening to her, what is happening to her dad, she has to make sure Seth is alright and that he is being taken care of. Her dad would have wanted that and no matter what they know that she doesn't, she won't let him be disappointed in her.
They seem confused, head tilts and sidelong glances shooting around the square they have formed with her in the centre, as if they hadn't even expected to get this far. There isn't anything she can do but wait for them to decide, to act. It takes longer than any of them are comfortable with but eventually she sees North turn, the movement catching her off guard. The other three see her aborted turn and move in closer to compensate. She doesn't like that, both the Leah bits of her mind and the new instincts and she isn't at all sorry about the snarl that rips from her.
There is a strange ripple in the air, a fundamental change and it stops the threatening sound. Her ears cock back and she lifts her head slightly, scenting the air for the change. There isn't one, not in smell, but that sticky thump that was North has become much smaller, slower. Human.
"Lee," he nods, a sad sad look on that familiar face as it comes into view. She should have known he would come, that the black monster would be Sam. It is oh so fitting. "You know what's happened? You understand?"
She doesn't give him any response. He knows she does, they all do and he is stalling.
"Why can't we hear you?" Sam asks, his voice breaking and his face twisting in a way she has never seen before.
If you had asked her yesterday, she would have said without a doubt that she had seen every expression that could grace his face. She would have assured you she had seen agony but this, it is so much more. Now he has two faces and she knows neither of them.
The three that are still wolves all let out a whimper, a sound that hurts something deep in her that she didn't have before then. An echoing sound builds in her but she cuts it off, refusing to give them anything when they are holding back the thing she needs. Instead, she snarls deep and low and rumbling.
Sam gets the idea.
"Seth is with Embry. He isn't doing so good," he admits and she does whimper then. It's coming. "Your dad….he didn't make it, Lee Lee. He was gone before your mom got him to the hospital."
He is still talking, the others are still whimpering and shuffling but it is nothing. She can't breath and she can't see and everything burns and aches and is numb at the same time. Not until then had she understood what pain is. She doesn't know how long she goes missing but suddenly someone is touching her, a hand with five familiar fingers digging itself into the hair at the back of her neck.
She runs and she does not once look back.
Time doesn't mean much of anything. There is no Monday, no Tuesday, no fun filled weekends. There isn't anything but light and dark and it seems natural to lose herself. She does not count the days, doesn't keep track of anything at all.
Everything that is human, that is her, that is Leah rests, sitting quietly in the back while this new side takes over. Instinct is everything; her compass, her provider, her parent. She eats deer and rabbit, drinks from streams and closes her eyes rather than see the reflection in the rippling surface. Smells reach her nose and she runs, not caring that sometimes it's something that smells similar to her. The wolf keeps her safe and she is grateful to the thing she had so easily scoffed at before. She can't imagine anything that she will ever need or want that could bring her back.
Those lost fifteen minutes, the one's she will never speak of, they swell until she has no idea of how long Leah has been gone.