AN: Imagine Jake didn't stick around long enough after Renesmee's birth to meet her. He never would have imprinted on her. So here, three years after all of that drama, Leah is trying to make it as a human in Seattle, like she told Jacob she was going to do. Jacob is just running, trying to get away from it all, like he told Leah he was going to do. And Leah and Jacob made Seth go back to Sam's pack and finish high school, like they told him they were going to do. So there, that was just a little bit of background that was too long to fit into the summary.

Dead End

I haven't taken on my wolf shape in three years, since I was given the opportunity to leave Sam's pack and go out on my own. It's impossible to forget what I am, but I try. Yoga has helped a lot with my temper, and that makes it easier to control myself. I make just enough money to support myself working at a local fast-food place. It is. . .unpleasant, to say the least. The work is boring and mindless, it's too warm for comfort (which, for a wolf, is saying something) in the kitchens, and everyone and everything is covered in a thick coat of grease. It smells disgusting and the constant sound of popping oil drives me insane. Not only that, but anytime anyone says anything, customer or employee, I can hear it, and believe me, there is plenty of conversation in a fast-food restaurant. There's so much that it just turns into this loud insane babble that I can't pay attention to or tune out. I can't listen to the words; it's just noise.

I live in a cheap, run-down apartment in the bad part of Seattle. I let my hair grow long again; it's now down to my waist. I make jewelry as a hobby and sell it online, but I'm not very good and I don't make much money.

More than once, I've been asked out, but I always turn them down. I think about Sam a lot, and, though I desperately want to move past him, I can't. Believe me; I've tried. I miss him. I miss his voice, his scent, the way I feel when his arms are around me. I guess it's better, not having to watch him with Emily, but sometimes I think I am going to go crazy if I don't see him. Those are the bad nights. The nights where I shiver and cry and consider phasing just so I can talk to Jacob and not feel so alone, but then remind myself that he doesn't want to deal with me and my problems, that he has enough of his own pain and doesn't need to be trying to comfort me, too. Usually, I just call Seth again. He's a good kid, and, while he doesn't really understand, he can pretty much always cheer me up. He's just so happy, it rubs off on me.

I call him every evening anyway, whether it's a "bad night" or not. He keeps me updated; the only day I haven't talked to him in the three years I've lived here was the night of Sam's wedding. I was supposed to be a bride's maid, but I don't think I would have been able to stand it. I knew that Seth would want to talk about it, and I was feeling lonely and sorry for myself and missing Sam like you wouldn't believe, so even though Seth called twelve times in a row, I never picked up. The next day I apologized profusely, and he intentionally avoided discussing the wedding, even though I know he attended.

I haven't talked to my mother at all, but she sends me money on my birthday and holidays. I usually send her my crappy jewelry since I don't have any money to spare. Sometimes we write to each other, but I think she understands that I really want to start my own life here.

Not that I've had much luck with that. In three years, I've made no friends. Oh sure, there are people at the restaurant (if you can even call it that) who I talk to, but I've never seen them outside my job. There's the waitress at the cheap diner where I have dinner on Friday nights, but the only thing she knows about me is that I like balsamic vinaigrette on my salad, and the only thing I know about her is that she works at Rosie's.

I think about Jacob a lot, too. I wonder what he's up too, whether or not he's still out there running, or if he's settled down somewhere like I have. I know he's not back at La Push or Forks because Seth would have mentioned it, but maybe he's somewhere else. Like I said, I haven't been in my wolf shape since that thing ripped its way out of Bella's stomach and the Cullens turned her into a bloodsucking vampire. That was when Jacob sent Seth back to La Push to finish high school, and agreed I could stay a part of his pack as long as I didn't bother him. Perhaps he's imprinted on some lucky girl. Sometimes I worry that maybe something's happened to him, but I think that, even if I was in my human form, I would, you know, be able to tell if my alpha had been killed. Plus, Jake is an enormous, powerful, strong wolf who can take care of himself. Definitely scarier and less in need of protection than some poor, friendless city girl.

It occurred to me for the first time since I'd moved here that that's exactly what I was: a poor, friendless city girl. People looked at me everyday and probably thought my story was the oldest one in the book. Actually, I doubt they even noticed me enough to consider what my story was. Not that I really minded. Sure, I wished I could get over Sam and find someone new, but that wasn't likely to happen unless I imprinted. Which, me being a genetic dead-end and all, also wasn't likely to happen. Maybe I wished I had some friends, but I didn't care enough to make some.

I really was lonely up here in Seattle. Nothing to do. No one to talk to. No motivation to make new friends, no old friends to keep in touch with. I'd said I'd come up here to start my own life, my own family, but I knew that wasn't going to happen, not when I couldn't move past Sam no matter how hard I tried. What was I going to do, stay here my entire life, alone? Of course not. But the clock was ticking. What if I grew old here, alone and poor? What if I died here? Did I want that? Did I want to die alone?

* * *

It was a Thursday night when I caught a whiff of a scent that I hadn't smelled in three years. I was coming home from the grocery store with my pitiful sack of food that would hopefully get me through the next week, when I pulled up short. That smell did not go with this life. I strongly associated that smell with the time when Seth, Jake and I had been a pack, for it didn't matter where you went on the Cullens' property, you couldn't escape that smell. Vampire.

It was an icy smell that burned my nose. I scrunched my face up in annoyance and somewhat in fear. Maybe, with the help of my old, huge pack I could have taken down a vampire, but not here, by myself.

So I know that I don't stand a chance in a fight against this bloodsucker. In fact, I really should just keep walking back to my apartment, call Seth like I do every night, and hope it doesn't recognize the scent of werewolf. That's what I'm trying to do, but the wolf in me, who I've hidden and suffocated these past three years, wants me to stay and fight, to protect the humans. She doesn't care that it's a fight I'm doomed to lose. I want to move forward to my apartment, she wants to go back and fight the leech. As a result, we stand still.

Before I've managed to fight my way past instinct, the leech is beside me. His icy smell is overwhelming, and I have to work hard to keep from wrinkling my nose, which I know would be a mistake. I can't let him know that I know what he is any more than a normal human would.

So it comes down to fight or flight. I know that I can't fight him, but there is no way in hell he's faster than I am. I mean, I am pretty damn fast.

That said, I was still warring with my wolfish instinct to fight, and so there was a moment of hesitation before I took off. A moment, which was plenty of time for him to lock his arms around my chest and drag me into a dark, empty side street.

I am fighting desperately to pull away from him, but I don't scream or make any noise that nearby humans could hear. Not only would humans be useless, but they would get themselves killed trying to help me.

I'm trying to analyze my options, and so far the only one that might get me out of this alive is phasing. I've decided to do just that when I feel sharp, painful teeth sink into the skin on my neck, and I know it's too late.

I've heard the stories. Believe me, I have. All it takes is one bite, one teensy weensy vampire bite to turn a human into a bloodsucker. They say the venom is excruciatingly painful to humans, and the entire time it's running through their systems, they're in agony.

Of course, the wolves have other stories, too. Stories that tell about members of the pack who have been bitten. The venom is just as painful, probably more so, but you don't come out an immortal leech. You're dead within hours.

Yes, the stories talk about pain, but you can never ever imagine this pain. This is not normal pain, this is not pain wolves or humans were ever meant to experience.

This is not the pain of being stabbed with a dagger, this is not the pain of burning in a fire. This pain can only be described as the smell of vampire multiplied infinitely, all over your body. Icy agony.

Apparently werewolf blood's not so delicious to bloodsuckers. He dropped me and gave me a long look before running off, completely bewildered.

I felt helpless as I fell to the ground, completely limp. I felt like my body was completely freezing over, and I honestly wished it would hurry up. Surely death would feel welcoming compared to this?

Death. It seemed now that I would in fact die alone. Here in this big, dark city that had never been my home. It wasn't even that I wanted to say goodbye; I just didn't want to be alone anymore.

But. . . I didn't have to. Wasn't that the point of a pack? That you were never alone? Just one transformation away were your brothers. Jacob. Surely he wouldn't mind keeping me company?

Phasing would be difficult, but I forced myself. Difficult as it was, the hot explosion of my bones was relieving, balancing out the excruciating ice of the leech's venom. But it was only for a second. A moment of almost-relief, and then it came back, more intensely than before. But I was a wolf now, and the pain was a little bit easier to handle. And I could talk to Jacob now.

Whoa! Leah! What the hell?!?! he shouted. I guess I startled him.

Jake, I whined. I could feel him trying to figure out where I was, and what had happened. He felt my pain and had no idea what could cause that.

It's not really an enigma, if you know what I mean, I told him sarcastically. He would figure it out.

Dude, Leah. What happened to you? he asked, more gently. I showed him rather than told him what had happened in the last few minutes. Smelling the vampire, getting dragged into the dark alley, getting bitten. Then some broader images of the fast-food restaurant, the few men who had asked me out, Friday nights at Rosie's Diner, daily phone calls to Seth. I tried to escape to Jacob's mind, where there wouldn't be any pain. Confusion and anxiety, maybe, but no excruciating icy agony. I tried to feel the dirt under his paws, the wind in his fur. He welcomed me, just like he did when we were hunting in our wolf forms years ago. That eased the pain.

Stay with me, I begged. Don't leave me alone!

And then there was new pain. His pain. I whimpered as I realized that his new pain was at the thought of losing me to the leech's venom. I could feel his anger, too. Pent up anger over what had happened to Bella, and new anger over what was happening to me. His head was suddenly a vile, repulsive place to be. I violently wrenched myself back into my own head, back to my own pain. The icy agony was ten times worse, and I let out a long howl. Jacob howled with me.

Leah. . . shit, Leah. I should be there, I should have been there to fight with you. I should

have. . . you have no idea. . . he was rambling, and I could feel his guilt that came with being alpha. Guilt that he had failed to protect one of his own. I didn't want to listen to him apologize, and I didn't want to feel his guilt.

Jacob, stop. I don't want to talk about it. I just. . . wanted someone to talk to. I just. . . didn't want to die alone. I pause. My breathing is labored and uneven. It's difficult, and that scares me. I don't want to die. I have so little to live for, but I'm not ready for it to all end.

Jacob howls again, and I try not to feel how sad he is. I don't want to be sad. I can feel him trying to hide it from me, to make it easier for me.

Talk to me, I ask, and it comes out faintly. Even thinking is hard now. The pain isn't as bad now, but I can't feel myself. I can't feel the cool night air around me or the rough pavement below me. I think this numbness is worse. I think I'd rather feel the excruciating icy venom.

What do you want me to say? That I'm not sad? Because I am. That I don't feel guilty? Because I do. How long have I been running, anyway? A year now? Two? he asks. A small part of me wants to tell him that he shouldn't feel guilty, but I just can't quite form the thought. So I answer his last question.

Three, I tell him, and the thought sounds like a whisper. I can't think clearly. Is the venom really supposed to spread this quickly?

Shit! Three?! Why didn't you. . . aww, Leah. . . Jake is having trouble forming sentences, too, though for entirely different reasons.

We sit for a few moments in silence, and I'm about to ask him to keep speaking when something occurs to me. Seth, my mother, and my old pack will never know what happened to me. Some human will find the body of a large wolf, and they'll be confused, but it won't make the papers. Seth will think I ran off or something. He'll keep calling for the next few nights, but soon he'll realize I'm gone. He'll wonder if he said something to anger me, or if I just left. None of them will ever know.

I'll tell them, Jacob says solemnly, and now he's having to work very, very hard to keep me from sensing his pain. I want to thank him, but I can't come up with the word. It's okay, though. I know he can feel my gratitude. I have to go back and get things sorted out anyway. I didn't know it'd been three years. . .

He was going to talk to them in person? That was very strange. He didn't have to do that for me. He could just phase for a few minutes, find a pay phone, and call collect.

I need to see them. And. . . I shouldn't tell them in a phone call. I have to tell them in person.

I want to thank him again, and say good bye as I can feel myself slipping away now, but I find I can't form intentional thoughts. I start to panic, but then remember he can sense everything I think, even if I don't say it directly to him.

LEAH! Suddenly he's shouting, and all of his efforts to hide his pain from me disappear. He is making no effort now, as he turns his head up to the moon and howls for me. I want to tell him to stop, to not be sad.

No, Leah! What are you even talking about?! How can you say that?! He's shouting at me now, and it hurts my head, but his voice is getting quieter, as if he's moving quickly away from me.

Don't you give up on me, Leah! You don't give up on me, you don't give up on Sue, you don't give up on Seth, you don't give up on Sam!

Sam.

Those were the last words I heard before I slipped into the darkness.

Epilogue

Everyone is dressed in black, and it's making my head hurt. Is there nowhere I can go to escape the constant reminder that she's gone?

At the front of the room is a picture of her from when she was human. Her hair is long and glossy and she wears a sweet, sincere smile that disappeared forever when she became a wolf. I try to avoid looking at the picture; it's harder to take that happy, pretty girl's death than it is the death of the hard, rough Leah she became.

The people are starting to get up and talk to each other in hushed tones. Most of the humans in here only know that Leah was murdered. Only the wolves, the council members, and Leah's mom know what actually happened.

I see Seth, no longer the child I remember him being, sitting with his head in his hands. His mother is sitting next to him, sobbing, and she also looks much older than she did just three years ago. She seems to have gained about ten years.

The pack members who knew her (for the pack has about doubled in size since the last time I saw them) are in shock. They are talking to each other quietly, for once completely serious.

Sam Uley is in the back of the room, staring blankly at the framed picture of her at the front of the room. Emily, Leah's cousin and Sam's wife, is crying into Sam's shoulder and Sam makes no move to comfort her. I think he feels guilty. If he hadn't imprinted on Emily, Leah wouldn't have ever even moved to Seattle. But it's not Sam's fault.

I have to get out of here. All of this pain and sadness is just eating me from the inside out. I can't take it much longer.

In just a few long steps, I'm down the aisle and out the door.

Outside, I have to work to keep myself from exploding out of my clothes and into my wolf shape. I walk a little further, towards the woods, when I smell something.

It's a strange scent, a mix of two scents that are very familiar but shouldn't be mixed.

Bella and vampire.

And then I hear her voice, except that it's clearer and sounds only very slightly like the Bella I know. I turn around, slowly and carefully.

And she's there. She's not at all like I remembered her, but it's definitely her. Her skin is white as a sheet, and her dark, chestnut hair is glossier and shinier than I've ever seen it. Her face looks perfectly sculpted, and her eyes. . . are gold.

"Jake!" she cries, but she doesn't move. Her eyes widen and she looks as if she's about to cry when she says, "I've missed you. And I'm sorry about Leah." Of course, she's not about to cry. Leeches don't cry.

I take a step toward her, trying to push down this bubbling emotion I feel toward her. "How do you know about Leah?" I ask, mostly to distract myself.

Bella hesitates. "Seth told us," she says.

And then all of them are there. They jump down from tree branches and step out from behind tree trunks. They suddenly are everywhere.

I used to know their names, but now the only ones I remember are Bella and Edward. But I see all of them. The small, caramel haired mom, the blond doctor, the other blond man, the small dark haired girl, the huge dark haired man, the super model blond girl, and Edward. And. . . one more.

The girl is small, and younger than the rest of them. She looks more like she's thirteen or fourteen. She has bronze hair that falls in perfect ringlets just past her shoulders, and her eyes are a deep chocolate-brown. The exact color Bella's eyes were as a human. Her cheeks are pink and I can hear a very fast, fluttering heartbeat come from her. She looks more fragile than the rest and her skin is slightly darker.

This girl is the thing that ripped its way out of Bella's stomach three years ago. This girl is the monster that killed Bella, turned her into this blood sucker.

I was running from Bella, I was running from Edward, but most of all, for the last three years, I've been running from this girl.

And now I can't take my eyes off of her.

At the sight of this girl, all of the emotions from before come rushing back and then--they're gone. All of them. None of it matters any more.

I will never, in all my life, be unhappy again so long as this girl is with me.