...
Three passions, simple but overwhelmingly strong, have governed my life: the longing for love, the search for knowledge, and unbearable pity for the suffering of mankind. —Bertrand Russell
…
Act III: Gamma
…
I imprint fifteen days after Leah kisses me. No one mentions it, but Leah's in a bad mood for a week after the fact. She's glad for my sake that she was right, but having actual physical proof that there's someone big and powerful up there who is out to get her has her snapping at everyone for the smallest things.
As much as I like to think about my imprint (all the time, twenty-four seven, I wish there were extra hours in a day so I could think about her more) I try and limit my thoughts. I don't want Leah to feel left out anymore, especially since I feel like this blessing is because of her. Only the two Clearwaters haven't imprinted, and privately everyone believes that only Seth is going to.
It's partially to cheer Leah up that Jacob invites the entire pack over to his house, and partially because getting together is what we do. Quil buys out part of the grocery store in order to have enough food. There's only going to be the five of us but I doubt there will be enough to go around. Following my girl around is tiring work, not that I mind. It's the best kind of activity.
Seth is in charge of picking the entertainment, which means we're stuck watching every werewolf movie ever made. Despite everyone's protests, the movies still end up on the screen. Seth's just too eager to deny him anything. Plus, he jumps and down in his seat when An American Werewolf in London begins to play on the television despite having since it exactly fifty-three times.
Halfway through the movie, I look up and notice the way we all sit according to our wolf hierarchy. Seth is sprawled on the floor in front of the television, every cushion in the room under his body, while Quil and I have taken the two armchairs on either side of the couch. The two of us are the flanks, but I notice I'm closer to Jacob. I wonder if that means anything—anything besides the fact I like the old green chair the best. It has the best armrest; I can put my feet over it without my legs starting to hurt.
What will happen when Seth turns eighteen? He was here first, after all. I'd like to think I wouldn't mind, I cede my position to Quil every time we head into a fight anyway, but logically I know that I'll probably still be resentful . Is it even possible to resent Seth Clearwater? Now that is an interesting question and one I don't want to figure out the answer too.
Jacob and Leah are on the couch, Leah to his right. She's curled up on the seat, more like a cat than a dog, feet tucked under her as she watches the screen with an almost dazed expression. The number of times Seth has subjected her to this film are too numerous to count. Jacob's feet are on the floor as he sits almost properly on the couch, despite the bowl in his lap. And the bowl between him and Leah.
Leah wants to watch Ginger Snaps afterwards, but the rest of us manage to vote her down. It might have pretty horrifying effects, but the big evil is just a metaphor for that time of month. Ew.
"Boys," Leah mutters as she always does, but let's Seth put on Teen Wolf without any more protest.
"Cheer up, Leah," Jacob says. "At least you don't have worms in your hair."
"Why would I have—No. Don't you dare, Jacob Black."
"What?" Jacob says in an innocent voice that fools no one. Leah's shifting herself as far away from him as the couch will allow, hands up to stop him. "What's wrong, Leah?"
"No," she repeats.
"No? What?"
"Stop thinking about it."
"Thinking about what?" he asks, slowly chewing on a gummy worm. "This?"
And then he throws it on her hair.
There's a moment when Leah just takes a deep breath, as the half-masticated candy worm sits on her head and we all watch. We try not to laugh in the silence because that's only going to lead to one thing...Seth is the first to break. He howls on the floor as his sister glares.
"Traitor."
Then she picks up the bowl of barbeque chips and dumps them on Seth.
"Leah!" Seth whines, but she's not listening, already launching herself at Jake, piece of chocolate cake in her hands. He barely manages to catch her wrist in time, so he gets some on his chin, but he's holding her off. That's when Quil catches my eye and holds up the ketchup bottle I had brought over for the long-gone burgers. I grab the mustard and together the two of us turn to the couch.
With war cries, we attack, squirting everyone liberally because that's only fair. Seth dives for my legs, Leah moves against Quil and Jacob grabs the other bottle of ketchup.
It's all out war for a long time—I get chocolate in my eye at one point and it burns, but I don't have time to get it out. There are no prisoners in this game. It's do or die, and I don't want to be the one cleaning whipping cream out of my ear for the next week. That one time was killer.
Eventually, there isn't any ammunition left in the room and the five of us collapse where we stand.
"Truce," Jacob declares. Four exhausted voices echo it.
Quil curses and informs us all, "I think the wrapping ripped a little on the couch."
"We put covers on underneath," Seth says proudly. He's back on the floor, but so is everyone save for Leah, who is sitting upside down on the couch, her head hanging down off the seat, her legs where her back should be. Jacob laughs and says, "Two layers are better than one."
"I can't believe you plan stuff like this," Leah sighs. "You're all five."
"You're just mad because you lost," Seth informs her.
"I did not lose. Embry has ketchup coming out of his nose."
The marshmallow in Seth's hair gives me a run for my money, but then Jacob remembers the brownie he stuffed in Quil's sock and that's easily the grossest mess, so we all declare Quil to be the official loser. Seth gets up to put in the next movie, wiping his hands on a dirty shirt before slipping The Howling into the machine. Jacob sits up so his back is against the couch's armrest and I settle on the piece of dirty furniture beside Leah, though I stay right side up.
"I hate this movie," Leah complains.
"Really? We didn't know," Jacob says. "We ignored you the first hundred times you said it."
"I knew it." But her voice is light. She's too tired to do anything but enjoy herself.
"Just watch the movie," he says with a fake growl. "And be quiet."
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him reach out one hand and pick a piece of chocolate cake off her stomach. Her shirt must have ridden up in the commotion but all I can think about as Jacob licks his fingers is that neither one seems to notice. She's brushing the chocolate off the corner of his mouth and he's swatting away her hand and both of them are smiling goofily and they don't notice. They've trained themselves too well.
The Howling begins but I don't think the surge I horror is from the old movie.
I love Leah Clearwater. Even in my own head, the words sound strange, but there it is. I love her. I don't think I'm ever going to like her very much, but there's no escaping that how I feel. The woman who called my mother a whore more times than I can count is the sister I never had. It's not just me and my two best friends and the Clearwater siblings. It's the five of us, together. And that changes things.
How? I'm still not sure.
By the time I've figured it out, the movie's almost over and everyone else has relocated and promptly fallen asleep. Leah's even gone and put her feet in my lap.
Or not everyone. On the other end of the couch, Jacob eyes are half-closed, but he's still staring at the screen, pinching himself occasionally to try and keep himself awake. He's not doing that great of a job, but he hasn't accidently knocked Leah's head off his thigh where it's come to rest, so at least I don't have to listen to that fight. There are still crumbs of something in her hair and I watch as he gently brushes them away.
One of the few days I was able to go to grade twelve chemistry, there was an experiment where we threw Alka-Seltzer tablets into a vat of something, maybe acid. I have no idea what the point of that whole thing was (something about reactions) but I remember that day while I look at Jacob looking at Leah, though Quil had been my partner.
It had been over quickly. One second there was a white, hard tablet and the next there was a bubbling concoction of something completely different. It's a shame I can't remember if the new substance was dangerous or not.
"Jake?" I whisper.
His hand moves away from her face, not guiltily, because that would mean there was something to be guilty for, but as if it made no difference where his fingers rest. His face is bored, his eyes are tired, his smile wane, but he gives me his full attention, speaking quietly so as not to wake the others up.
"Yeah?"
I want to ask a question, make it so like this is a debate or a discussion because I consider myself reasonable, but if I do that I know that he'll manage to talk his way out of it. He has to try. This is not fair of me, but then again, it hasn't been fair of him either.
Jacob's been my best friend forever—before either of us really knew what girls were, let alone werewolves or vampires. He used to believe in lost causes with a passion that almost scared me, but that I couldn't help but admire. Somewhere along the way, he realized the risks were too high even for him and so he put part of himself in a box and swore it had never existed. He stopped taking crazy chances. It's time he started again.
"You're in love with Leah, you know."
The words hang in the air for a moment, like the second it takes us to phase, when the world just seems to stop moving around us. And then my words fall on Jacob and he flinches as they pummel him during their mindless descent.
He's horrified at my declaration and I'm worried for a second that he might be sick. Like the fizzing Alka-Seltzer tablet, I've taken the carefully his carefully constructed world and dumped it in acid. It's melting away before his eyes and there's nothing he can do to stop it. Everything's about to disappear.
There are legends that speak of a Woman who spun the world from her words. Christians have a similar story, in that God spoke and the world was made. What I take away from it all, besides the fact that religion is really a codeword for everything that is too important not to know whether you say Creator or God or no one at all, is that words make things real. They take all shadows and fleeting forms and make them whole and solid and inescapable. There's been months of pretending, maybe years, but I moved my lips and said the words and suddenly it's reality.
Jacob loves Leah.
A hell of a lot more than he should.
He could try and deny it, but he's not an idiot, my Alpha. A denial will sound weak and hallow and would be almost as bad as an affirmation, which is the worst thing he can currently imagine. She might be free to feel whatever she likes, but he's not. Ponies and cages and fresh blood and Jacob really hates me right now.
"That's not possible," he says finally.
"It shouldn't be," I agree. The way I feel about my girl is different than the way I've felt about anyone, different than I would ever want to feel. But my name is Embry Call, not Jacob Black. "But just because it shouldn't have happened doesn't mean it hasn't. You're in love with her."
"What the hell are you doing, Embry?"
Et tu, Brute? Jacob might not know Latin, but that phrase is etched into every worried crevice of his face. English was the one class I paid full attention in even when Sam would order me not to, mostly because Amy Cook sat beside me and always smiled when I said something smart. I even read Shakespeare to impress her, before I found out she was dating that senior.
Comparing myself to Brutus isn't fair. Or maybe it is. I'm doing this for his own good, even if he can't see it. I'm doing it for her and for the pack because there can't be peace until this is resolved and it can't be resolved until someone admits that it's going on. It's my duty to help them, even if he can't see it. Even if he thinks I'm stabbing him the back, over and over again. Because no one was supposed to bring this up.
"I'm just saying that it's obvious you love her and I think you should do something about it."
"Do something—I can't love her. I've imprinted, Embry. It doesn't work like normal anymore. There's Nessie and there's no one else. And there's no stopping it," he hisses, his fingers digging into the armrest. "So drop this."
"We don't know it's impossible to do anything about it."
"Sam couldn't stop. Sam..." he lowers his voice and he makes the conscious effort to sound softer. "Sam tried to stop imprinting. And it didn't work. It doesn't work."
"I've been talking to the vamps about it." I pretended I was asking for myself, but I still can't be sure I fooled Edward. I don't really care if I did. "About shapeshifter legends. They have some ideas about how to stop it. And Sam...Sam didn't really want to fight it, not after he'd just fought being a werewolf. He had started accepting the crazy things that were happening to him. And Leah couldn't help him because she didn't know what was going on. She knows now. She could help you."
Jacob glances down at the sleeping woman between us. The sadness around him is palpable and I think back to English class again and remember the story of Pandora's box. Out of curiosity, with no malicious purpose, Pandora opened a box and fucked up the world. From inside a beautiful container (my good intentions, maybe?) out sprang war and pestilence and disease. The world couldn't fight the ugliness that had been unleashed upon it because Pandora was too stupid to just leave the box alone. After she had finished ruining the planet, she probably sat in horror for a long time. The first person to find her would have looked like Jacob does right now.
What have you done?
Unleashed a horror show that can't be stopped—I feel a little sick myself. There's no taking back the words and the next time Jacob or I phase, Leah is going to hear them and she's good at hiding her feelings, but no one's that good, and everything she tells herself she doesn't feel is going to come spilling out before anyone can stop it. More emotions that can only cause pain because no one thinks there is anything to do about it.
"She won't want to help."
I snort before I can help myself. "Please. She'd jump into a river if you asked her too. She'll help you stop imprinting."
"Just because she's the Beta...I won't ask her to turn me into Sam. She shouldn't have to hurt like that again."
"She's already hurting, except we all have to pretend otherwise, so it just gets sicker and more twisted. You have to stop it."
"She doesn't—" For the briefest second something akin to hope flashes across Jacob's face and then it is paralyzed by guilt and fear. "I can't leave Nessie. Even if—I just can't do it. How hard is it to understand? Embry, you've imprinted. You've got to know what that means."
"Talk to the vamps, Jake. Especially the ones from South America. Nahuel in particular seems really interested in figuring out how to help us stop imprinting."
"I'll bet he is." A sigh and then, "There's nothing they can do."
"What if there is?"
"And what if we think there is but there really isn't?"
On screen the credits begin to roll as I stare at him. "So you're just going to give up before you even try?"
"When she tries to eat your intestines while you watch, I'm just going to buy one of those giant foam fingers so I can cheer her on."
"Okay," I say and gently push Leah's feet off me so I can take out the movie.
Jacob doesn't say anything else to me for the rest of the night. He doesn't even look at me the next morning when we're all awakened by Seth's failed attempts to make his way quietly to the washroom. Jacob just climbs off the armchair he had fled to without looking at Leah and I on the couch and offers breakfast.
We end up eating whatever food is lying around as we clean up the room. Thank goodness that Billy's not coming back until later that week because it's going to take Jacob a while to fix the place up. I want to take a shower, but Quil has a better idea.
"Let's go cliff jumping. The weather looks good and we'll be able to get clean without clogging the drain up with food."
"Race you," Seth says, already stripping down.
"We can't just leave it like this," Leah points out.
"Go ahead," Jacob says. It's as close to an order as he's ever given, which everyone immediately picks up on. "Leah and I will finish up back here."
"I don't remember volunteering," she says. Seth is already gone, but Quil and I hang back in the doorway.
"Hey, you started it. That means you have to help."
"I started it? You have got to be—" she glares up at the laughing Jacob. "You should go jump off a cliff." She spins around and heads to the kitchen, muttering about sexist werewolves under her breath.
"We can stay," Quil offers.
Jacob just shakes his head. "You two go on. I have to talk to Leah." He looks incredibly old as he says it and I feel guilty again so I shoot him an encouraging smile that he ignores. Idly, I wonder if he's ever going to talk to me again.
"Stop it," I beg.
"There is not going to be a bush you can hide under where I won't find you," he says. Animals can sense weakness, but even if I wasn't wolf-boy, I would be able to tell Jacob is petrified. Quil looks between the two of us but says nothing and then Leah comes back holding a broom and immediately notices the tension in the room.
"Someone having a staring contest and just forgot to tell me?"
"We'll be going then," I mutter as Jacob tears his eyes off of me and just murmurs, "Could you sit down for a second, Leah?"
"What's going on?" Quil asks as the two of us leave behind a confused female werewolf and her worried Alpha. There doesn't have to be words between the rest of us. I merely throw my clothes in a heap on top of Seth's and phase.
You did what?
Even the normally unflappable Seth is flabbergasted by my actions. Quil keeps mostly silent as Seth says things I didn't even know he knew—clearly he listens to his sister more than he's ever let on, because what he's saying is impressive, even if it makes me cringe.
Someone had to say something. They couldn't just keep ignoring it.
They could have and they would have, Seth thinks and then we've reach the cliffs so all three of phase back and he says out loud, "We all could have kept pretending. Forever, if we had to. This is just going to be Sam all over again. And we all know that was not fun for anyone!"
I've never seen Seth this upset. I didn't even think he could get angry. But he's talking like we're discussing the fact the sky is blue, so I have to ask:
"You knew?"
"Duh! Embry, I have eyes. What do you think?" He answers his own question. "Clearly, you weren't thinking at all! Why would you want to hurt them like that?"
"That's not why he did it," Quil says. I glance at my best friend and though he doesn't look happy with me, he nods to let me know he has my back. "It's not why he did it and you know that, Seth. I would have done it myself, if I had the balls."
He wouldn't. Whatever he's saying now to calm Seth down, Quil would never have done what I just did. He never would have hurt Jacob, never would have hurt Leah, never would have hurt anyone he called friend. Looking at the options the way I did, Quil would have let them cling tightly to whatever tiny bit of happiness they had rather than let them fail.
Quil's not a bastard like I am.
And the really funny thing about this? I'd rather be the bastard.
Not because I'm tired of doublespeak (though I am) and not because I'm cruel (I like to think I'm not). I'd throw acid on the world a thousand times if I could burn those bars. For the same reason Quil won't, I will—you have to love a guy to be his best friend for over a decade. Love him. And Jacob doesn't do soul mates like the rest of us.
Maybe that's why Leah loves him. Maybe not. I don't get her much, but she is beautiful when she smiles and I want her to start and never stop. Her eyes are dark and lost, but they could have happiness in them again, I think.
Love's always come easy to Quil, easier than it ever did for me. No one's ever told him the people he loves aren't worth it—I'm the one who had to learn the hard way that it simply is not true. If you love people, they're worth it. No matter what the gossiping women and the smirking men say. They are worth it. That's why I'm the one who had to do this.
There are some things a person needs to know. And if it's not my place to force the knowledge on them, who's is it? I love them both too much to just stand by.
Even if Seth doesn't like it. And he really doesn't like it.
His voice is cracking like it hasn't in years. "You didn't see her…it took her forever to smile again. And you must remember him after Bella. Have you both forgotten that neither one of them functions anywhere near normal after they've been hurt?"
"You really think Jacob's going to be able to look Leah in the eye and tell her he's not going to do anything?" Quil is sympathetic but firm. "You really think that, Seth?"
"He hasn't done anything."
"Because he's been telling himself that she doesn't want him, that he wants it so badly he's seeing things that aren't there, that he doesn't even want her in the first place. You think he's going to be able to keep doing that anymore? A fire under his ass might be the best thing for everyone."
Seth looks like he wants to argue, but he's not very good at staying angry. Instead, he just mutters, "Last one off the cliff has to console Leah first."
I let Quil and Seth beat me. It's only fair after all.
Somehow, the morning is not nearly as much fun as anticipated. Seth keeps glaring at me and even Quil isn't completely okay with what I did, though he does add, "Maybe they'll work everything out. She did turn out to be okay, so weirder things have happened."
That gets a chuckle even out of Seth, though he gets worried again as the three of us head back to the Black's house. We walk, so it takes three times as long. It's been an hour and we aren't sure that we're going to find the house still standing or not. It might make me a coward, but I'm glad I wasn't there for the conversation—it wouldn't have been safe.
My friends use me as their human shield as we walk inside, pushing me through the house tentatively, as if something might explode in front of us. That's a very real possibility.
Jacob and Leah are still in the living room where we left them, both leaning against the back of the couch, arms crossed, standing there waiting for rest of us—they must have heard us come in. Their faces are once again horrifically blank, but their clothes are still the same so at least no one got angry enough to phase. That doesn't erase the fact that Leah's eyes are now red-rimmed or Jacob has dried blood under his nose. The stab of guilt is almost as power as I'm sure Jacob's fist will be.
"What are you all looking at?" she demands, arching a brow.
"You didn't get much cleaned," Quil says. All four of us stare at him, but he just shrugs. "I'm just saying. We do have to fix the room and I'm calling not it."
There's moment of silence as the depths of Quil's foolishness sinks in. Then:
"Not it."
"Not it."
"Not it."
"You're such boys!"
Leah's sigh of exasperation somehow gives the rest of us permission to burst out laughing. Because we might all be worry that our pack (our family) is about to self-destruct, but Quil is all about looking at the bigger picture, and Leah's overreactions are always funny, and the whole situation is just so ridiculous in the face of impending doom that laughter is the only option left.
And as I laugh, I realize something.
Despite Amy, English was never a passion. That might be why I forgot my favorite part of Pandora's story. It wasn't the death and destruction and people's inability to not screw up everything they touched. It was about what was left in the box.
It was about hope.
And I have hope, even after all this time. Reading minds means I know these people inside out, every selfish impulse, every irrational fear, every misplaced moment of anger. But that's not all I know. I know the depth of their loyalty and their goodness and their love. I know the bad and I know the good and I love my people, my pack, my family. I believe in them.
Even if Jacob and Leah can't look each other in the eye for the rest of the decade, even if Seth and Jacob try and bore holes into the back of my head, even if Quil makes fun of my stupidity for the next millennium, eventually it will all work out. At the end of the day, we're all friends and there is nothing stronger than the group of us together.
"So what happened?" I ask when I stop laughing.
Leah glances at Jake, but I can't read the communication between them before she walks forward. Her back is straight, her eyes burn and despite her rumpled clothing and dirty face, she still manages to remind me of a vengeful goddess.
She punches me right in the jaw.
I hear the crack and then—
When I come to, I'm on Jacob's couch. My head is still ringing, but the pack has not chosen to remain silent when they see I'm waking up. Quil is still laughing, while Seth is trying not to as he perches on the armrest that my feet are resting on. At least my jaw is no longer broken.
"You deserved that," Leah informs me as she holds ice to the side of my face. She's kneeling on the ground beside me and now that she's mere inches away from my face I realize there are tiny flecks of brown in the black pools of her eyes that match the dark chocolate smeared on her face. Then I notice that her lips look fuller than normal. Swollen.
Jacob is just behind her and I can't help but notice the same can be said about him. Both of them are watching me. Jacob adds, "You deserve a whole lot more."
So what came first, the kissing or the crying? No, that's not what matters, that's never been what matters even if I'm an idiot and thought it was. The question is not what about what was at the beginning. The question is: what is the result we have to live with? I look up to ask him exactly that, but he's not looking at me anymore. He's looking at Leah and he looks worried.
Maybe because she's frozen, her hand on my ear from where she had been moving my head. She's even started to tremble. "What's wrong?" I mutter.
"Nothing," she snaps, fooling no one. The rest of the pack starts to look worried now too. Leah looks up at Jacob and grimaces, but a glance back at me seems to fortify her somehow. "Do you still want to know?"
"What?"
"About..." she glances at Jacob again and I get it. Jacob does too, if the way he crosses his arms is any indication.
"I thought you said you didn't—"
Her hands move off of me and I have to hold the ice on by myself. "I thought of something. Something...it's like blue eyes. Some types of people can't have kids with some kinds of characteristics. You'd have to look at their dads, but..."
"But I would have a place to start," I finish. She nods.
Jacob walks so he's now behind me, so I can feel the warmth from his body, and puts his hands on my shoulders. He doesn't say anything, at this point there's nothing to say, but I appreciate his gesture of solidarity. Whatever comes out of Leah's mouth, he's there for me, even if he's angry, even if I just almost ruined one of the most important relationships in his life. He'll always be there. So will Quil and Seth, who reach out and touch me. The pack wants me to know I can count on them.
Leah is still talking, asking, "So you still want to know?"
My tongue feels thick in my mouth. It's hard to admit that I might have had it all wrong.
It's not by knowing my father that I can put him behind me. I've done that a long time ago, slowly but surely, every father's day where I never had anyone to give cards too and every pack gathering where I've laughed until there were tears streaming down my face. Knowing the name of a man from my mother's past is supposed to give me closure because it's supposed to give me understanding. But I don't need to know his name to understand.
Maybe he was just a jerk looking for a quick fuck. Or maybe he was a nice man who couldn't help finding my vivacious mother enchanting (maybe he just had really good taste). Maybe he told himself he was protecting her, as he kept her hidden in the shadows. He had promised away his heart already and there are some promises you can't (or think you can't) break and so he left her and me one day because it wasn't about what he wanted, but about what was possible.
There are possibilities right now. There is hope.
If I ask Leah to keep talking, there won't be.
"No," I say. I feel lighter than I have in years, because I can feel the truth in the words. "No. I don't need to know."
"That's it?" Leah cries. "I watched you for a fucking month! And—" She breaks off and takes a deep breath. With visible effort she calms herself down. "I guess this just proves I was right. You were an idiot for wanting to know in the first place."
There is a part of me that's wants to take it back and ask what Leah thinks she's discovered. There always will be. But knowing won't change anything—not for me at any rate. Everything I needed to discover about my father and myself I already know. His name is unimportant.
"Embry's always an idiot," Jacob announces cheerfully as everyone backs off to clean up the room. There's a lot of work to do before Billy gets home, but we'll manage. "It's part of his charm."
...
Author's Note: I know. I suck. Sorry. There's just the brief epilogue after this, for those of you who can't stand this ending and want me to hit you over the head with why Embry did what he did. For those of you wondering about the genetics, I was talking about attached/free earlobes.