A/N: It has been soooo long since I updated. Largely because this is simply a behemothic chapter - by my standards, anyhow. It's a nice long chapter in Leah voice like the second one in the story. I love writing Leah. Thanks for all the reviews so far and I hope you drop a few more by!
On his eyes will I gaze, and there delight me;
While I conceal my love no frown can fright me.
To be more happy I dare not aspire,
Nor can I fall more low, mounting no higher.
'Hidden Flame,' John Dryden
Forest feels heavy today.
Like the trees are all breathing really
Heavily.
Everywhere I smell wet ferns. It is a cloying smell.
And the breath of the trees lands on my back and grows drops of water there. So my fur is wet too.
Wet and sticking to me.
See the green.
Think about the green.
It is everywhere.
Occasionally broken by a cedar baring its skin.
Rare occasion.
Looks like blood has spurted from a wound and sprayed over the uniform trunks.
And the moss and lichen and weeds and damp and leaves hurry to make the tree decent again.
Fractured light filters through the canopy. Comes through in beams. Reveals the motes of lichen. Swarming the air like flies.
Seth used to say the light looked like strands of hair.
Someone had crowed, Whose? An angel's?
Probably Embry.
Others laughed. But my little brother did not reply. And I knew he was thinking
To himself
Maybe.
Because he was and is a stupid kid.
Ferns rustle and break my thoughts.
My deep deep insightful contemplation on the State of Seth.
Thicket is moving. Knocking around like something is passing through it.
Tiny feet patter through my mind and I think no.
Do not want this to be happening.
Thought it had gone away. Thought this had stopped.
Sure. Sam has plagued me for nearly a month now. But have not heard the pattering feet in as much time.
Well.
Brace myself.
Perhaps now I will see it. Whatever it is.
Tiny thing that has been running circles around me and always keeping out of sight.
Yeah. That.
Man. Going crazy.
Hear feet approaching. But funny because they do not sound tiny. Sound heavy and large. Enough to thud. No pattering.
Thicket jerks one last time and then spits out a pale ball of fur.
Lands at my feet and scrambles back in surprise to see my hackles raised.
Henry.
Rearrange myself.
And my relief permeates the background.
Not going crazy. Doing okay, Leah.
Hiss, What do you think you are playing at?
Nothing bad! He claims. All indignant at this charge on his innocence. Hunting!
That is when I notice the rabbit hanging from his jaws. Limp. Soft ears coated in slobber.
Gives a feeble jerk as Henry nods smugly.
Dinner, he announces. That's me sorted for tonight. Can you say the same for yourself, boss?
Bad thing about being a wolf is your face just cannot express the right intensity of disgust.
Stalk past him.
So, I say. Already preparing for your future career as a tramp, Henry. Very good.
Scoops up the rabbit and hurries to catch up with me.
Laughs. Lighten up, grandma!
Shake my head.
Exasperated.
Not about how light or not I am. Man.
If you are running around killing innocent animals you are not exactly focussed on your patrol. Are you?
Yes boss, sorry boss! Henry intones immediately. On the lookout for approaching vampires, pronto!
Runs ahead.
Realise that a few weeks ago I would be lecturing him by now. Saying things like, you do not know what it was like when the leeches were on our doorstep. Friends of the Cullens passed through these lands constantly.
Now. Just do not feel the urge.
Am I tired?
Am I even older?
Maybe I am better.
Henry has paused.
Hey, there's one hiding in the trees here! Don't worry, I've got him!
Dives into the heart of a branching maple. Emerges a moment later coughing up cobwebs. Out loud he splutters. In my mind he wails.
Urgh! Do not go in there. Seriously!
Yeah, I reply. Was not planning on it.
Caught up with him by now. And carry on walking past him.
Again he runs to catch up. Runs ahead. Runs up one of the slopes on either side of us.
Moment later jumps out at me. Down from a low branch. Tree holds him up like a kindly father. And like a petulant kid he does not even stop to thank it.
Shouts Boo! at me.
Maybe not petulant. Maybe just over-excited.
Nod at him like he said good morning and keep walking. Piercing whine jangles in my skull.
Aw, boss. You're no fun!
So I have been told.
Henry snorts.
Bounds ahead. Right up there by a cluster of cottonwoods.
And I could swear –
Yep.
Imbecile kid is wiggling his furry butt at me.
Now I know why he went so far ahead. Out of reach.
But I do not care.
In fact.
Truth be told.
Cannot help laughing.
And then I cannot stop.
Guess some of my ha's worm into the kid's head because his wolf turns and grins at me.
Eyes shining.
Triumphant.
Trots back to my side.
I knew I would break you, he says.
Attempts some kind of Russian accent. Overall effect is pretty alarming.
Yeah, yeah, Ivan, I say.
Grins again. Rabbit flops limply.
And then.
Faintly.
Twig snaps.
Quiet sound. Very qiuet.
Was a small twig. Broken by something small.
Begins then. Steps butterflying over the earth. Shuffling through the wet leaves.
Feet. Tiny feet.
Tiny foot that took a deliberate step to scare me.
No. Leah.
You are not going crazy. You are not.
There are no small feet. There is nothing there.
But I can hear it. Can hear that tiny thing bustling about.
Swear I even heard it puff in frustration.
Everything okay, boss?
Henry considering me warily.
Another twig snaps. Low plants dancing as something moves through them.
Desperately: Henry, can you hear that?
Slowly: Hear what, boss?
No, I say. Knew you couldn't.
But I can.
In fact.
Can hear it getting louder.
Closer.
So. Was right earlier. I will see it.
Any moment now.
Brace myself yet again. Forget about Henry yet again.
Right by the brush line now.
And then it is out.
But I see nothing.
Hear those tiny feet patter past us. Watch its invisible path. See the ferns on the other side make way for it. And hear it patter away.
But see nothing.
Stare after.
Until pale fur invades my sight. Explosion.
Leap back.
Jeez, Henry, get away from me!
Oh, well excuse me! he cries. Just wanted to check everything was still functioning up there! You kind of didn't move for like five whole minutes!
It was not five minutes, I grumble. And move past him.
Begin to stride. Want to cover as much ground as possible in as little time as possible.
Do not know why.
Maybe it will make things feel better.
Maybe had enough of this
Cub scurries to keep up.
What happened just then? You were totally out of it. Did you say you could hear something? Because I was straining my wolfy senses and all that and I could not hear a thing, I swear. Are we in danger? Is it vampires? Is it? Is it actually vampires?
No, I say.
Then what is it? What was that?
Focus on your patrol, I instruct him.
Henry stops. Incredulous.
So that's it?
He vaults forward again and I feel his breath in my ear. But keep my eyes trained straight ahead. Feet pacing.
Even. In time.
One
Two
One two
I don't even get an explanation? I can't believe this.
I don't owe you an explanation, for Christ's sake! I'm your Alpha! Does that not mean anything to you? I've told you you're not in danger. Now can you just let it drop?
Feel his irritable sigh next to me.
Fine, he says.
Thank-you.
Lasts about a minute.
Leah, can I just ask – how have you been sleeping recently?
Henry! Shut up! Do your patrol!
Fine! he retorts sharply. Repeating himself.
Everything is okay.
We are walking. I am not thinking about the pattering thing.
And then Henry starts doing something weird with his head.
Swings it back and forth like a pendulum. Side to side.
Close my eyes and breathe out slowly.
Will I get no peace?
Hey. Grandfather clock.
Are you talking to me, Grandma?
Yeah. Quit doing that with your head.
Incensed now. Doing what? he cries.
Swinging it like that.
Oh my god, Leah. I'm focussing on my patrol. I can't do anything right, can I? You know, for the Alpha of a top-secret wolf-pack, you are seriously demanding.
Made me laugh for the second time today.
Strange.
But considering what is normal for me these days. Stranger the better.
Nudge him.
Keep moving, pup, I say.
Yes boss, he replies.
Know what he is going to ask.
Really, though, Leah. Are you sure you're alright?
But my reply was kind of unexpected.
No, I say solemnly. Henry looks expectant. I am half left.
Takes a moment. But then Henry roars with laughter.
Cannot remember the last time I made someone laugh.
In a good way I mean. Not a bitter resentful way. Or a scornful way.
Leah. Hear Henry's unbroken voice. I didn't know you could tell such a mean Dad joke!
I was a pro at Dad jokes in my time, I say.
True though. Kind of was.
There's a lot of things I don't know about you, Queen Alpha Lady.
Well. There are a lot of things you don't know about everything, puny subject.
That's fair, Henry concedes.
I am fine, I tell him. Really. Do not worry about me.
I am fine I am fine I am fine.
Up ahead. See silver pooling underneath a moss coated maple. Mirror left on its back in the leaves.
Opalescent mass rises as we near it.
Stretches its legs. Yawns and shows its teeth. Blinks and shows it eyes.
Butter.
Amber.
Paul.
Old wolf plods towards us. And some kind of happy relief spreads through me.
I am fine, I tell Henry again. And now I believe it.
Strange how calm Paul is now.
Eyes feel like a warm hug as they hold mine.
Remember the kind of heat used to fill his eyes. Was not so friendly. Used to burn. Now they only melt a little.
He nods. Wants to know if we had a good patrol.
Uh, what do you think? Henry says. Like it is blindingly obvious.
Proves his point by shaking the dead rabbit in his elder's face. Paul grumbles irritably. Swots the limp thing away.
I forget how annoying you are, he says.
Thanks! Henry replies and gallops ahead.
Rabbit cartwheeling round his face. Kind of like propellers. So Henry is a little furry helicopter.
Paul and set off at the same moment. We amble together through the forest.
Would have been very peaceful if that ball of pale fur had not been cannoning around us. Darting and bouncing and pointing stuff out all excited.
Henry shouts boo at Paul from behind a tree. Clearly this trick never gets old for him.
Latter grunts mildly. Then asks, How do you have so much energy?
Dunno. Youth, I guess, Henry quips.
Throws Paul for a second. Then his brows lower over his eyes and he seethes.
By then Henry has already moved on.
What are you doing here anyway, Uncle?
Paul is off-balance. Adjusts to the new subject.
I, er, came to meet Leah. After her patrol.
Ah, replies Henry. I'm sure you meant to say Leah and Henry, after their patrol?
No, I really didn't, Paul returns.
Oh, right! Henry says brightly. Must have been a pleasant surprise for you, then.
Yeah, about as pleasant as the time my parents walked in on me halfway through a ferocious wank.
Groan.
Please, Paul, I say. You will put Henry off his dinner.
Indicate the rabbit. Seems to have gathered a lot of dirt since Henry first caught it.
Young wolf guffaws.
I love walking with you two, he says. Will you walk me the whole way home?
Tickle of laughter on my ribs.
Paul sighs deeply. Does not get it.
Never used to be slow on the uptake.
Swear it was Paul that kept all the running gags going in the pack. Was always the first to retaliate with a sharp joke.
Things change I guess.
I guess?
I know.
Henry barrels playfully into Paul's old ribs.
Don't worry, you smooth bastard. I'll let you two have your alone time!
Cackles madly. Then catches himself.
That is – if that's okay, Leah?
Yeah, more than okay.
Alright, alright! he says. Jeez, I can tell when I'm not wanted.
Wow, Henry, I reply. You are so observant.
I know, he says.
Bolts off. Find myself wondering if that poor rabbit will make it to his home in one piece.
Now we are alone together.
And Paul grumbles.
I thought he'd never leave.
This is all normal. Paul muttering scathingly about Wes or Henry. Silence that nestles between us as we drop new paw-prints over our well-trodden earth.
What is not normal is that Paul seems
Kind of.
Embarrassed?
Yes.
And something else.
Think he is searching for something to say.
Not like us at all.
How is Seth doing? Paul speaks finally.
And I am about to answer. Honestly.
But.
Feel someone fall into step beside us.
Shadow spreads from the corner of my left eye to its centre. Stretching fingers of black mist.
Dare myself to look. And of course I see Sam.
See his wolf padding peacefully through the solid tree trunks. See him keeping time with us. Like how he used to do patrols.
Military.
Marching like we were soldiers.
Feel sad all of a sudden.
Three of us have never walked together before.
Leah? Paul probes. Yanks me back. Back to the question at hand.
Question at hand.
Seth.
Move real quick. Quick enough to stifle the images of Seth threatening to bubble up and overflow. Seth lost. Seth crying. Seth with needle marks in his arms and legs. Throw myself over him. Pin him down before he can escape.
Seth? He's not doing so bad.
Truth is. Have not seen him in two days.
He will come back though. Always does. Just do not know when.
And that…
Never mind.
(That is what kills me).
Right, Paul says.
Can tell he does not believe a word I say. But he does not push the matter.
Guess he wants to wait for me to feel ready to open up.
Silly wolf going to be waiting a long time.
Starts searching for a new subject. Pretty determined on conversation today that is for sure. It is different.
Strange.
Remember that time… Paul begins. And I think.
Great.
Paul is going on one of his reminiscing binges.
Man. Do I love these.
No.
Hate them.
Remember that time Seth stole one of Jacob's bikes? And he said he was going to start up a pizza delivery business? But he hadn't found anyone to make the pizza, or anyone to buy the pizza, and so he just drove round on Jacob's bike up near the Makah rez? And then Jacob caught him and he got so mad… But you managed to convince him to let Seth off the hook. What did you say? The kid has "entrepreneurial vision," or something –
Interrupt him.
Paul.
What? Enough is enough.
Yeah? he asks. Tone kind of sullen.
To my left black ears droop. Black head lowers moodily to the ground.
Shift my body.
Know it is stupid. But I want to block Paul's view of Sam. As if he is some kind of bad influence. Even though all Paul sees is endless green of moss and vines and leaves. No black wolf cutting into it.
Man. Am I jealous.
Can we just –
Trying.
Can we just not talk about this? No point dwelling on the past, you know, when there is stuff we need to deal with happening right now.
Paul throws his amber eyes onto the deep emerald everywhere around. To my left brown eyes roll too.
Infuriation prickles.
Ignore him.
Sam.
Pretty hard when he is stumbling about like that.
See. Paul scuffed a log with his paw and Sam tried to copy him. But of course the tree he swiped at never felt him. Guess he was thrown. Now he is stumbling.
Kind of funny I suppose.
Looks like I'm flanked by a pair of stroppy teenagers.
You're right, Paul allows.
Realise we have stopped. I start moving again. Immediately followed on both sides.
From my right I hear,
What do you want to talk about?
Reply, Dunno.
And I bound ahead. Root tries to trip me up and I leap over it. Dodge out the way of a log fallen in my path. Play with the forest.
Wait! Paul cries. Give me a minute, Jesus.
That is right. I am your Lord and Saviour. Bow down before me.
Say this from the crest of a valley. Looking down at him.
Paul huffsa laugh.
Scrambles up the steep incline and shoves into me.
Hey! I shout. Shove back into him.
And my laughs shove into his laughs. I follow him through the forest. White legs kicking and spurting.
Black legs following behind. Little slower.
Teeth on the scruff of his neck. Claws running through fur. We roll over one another. Once.
Paul gets up. Trots forward. I stay on the forest floor.
Looks over his shoulder after a moment.
See his eyes.
Never seen them like that before.
Mischievous. Inviting. Playful.
Amber melted to butter.
Part of me wants to follow him further into the forest. Gambol like Henry. Pale wolf who seems not to have a worry in the world.
Most of me is too tired.
My back prickles. Behind me Sam steps through the trees.
Mass of black shadow. Still and silent. Feel him willing me to join him.
Lithe white wolf urging me to come forward.
Do not want to move at all.
Eventually Paul lopes back.
No. Not trotting anymore.
Lowers himself to the ground in front of me.
There is a wet maple leaf on his head. Plastered between his ears like a little hat.
Paul. Moment ago his eyes were deep pools. Open. Now I see two doors close over the wells.
He is himself again.
Old wolf. Tired man.
Come on, I say. And haul myself to my feet.
Okay, Paul replies.
Traipsing side by side. Tell him he has a leaf on his head.
He says, Do I?
Say, You look like Robin Hood.
Paul chuckles. White whiskers framing his lips flutter. Touched by his breath.
Makes me think of sea-wind blowing a ship's sails.
How have your patrols been going? I ask him. Embry? How is he?
Fine, Paul assures me. Well, you know. It's weird. He doesn't speak.
Strange noise comes from the black wolf beside me. From his throat. Little whine.
When Sam was alive all Embry did was talk.
Yeah, I say.
Eloquent as ever.
At least I'm not with Wes, Paul says bitterly. I hate that kid.
Hate suddenly sounds like a strong word to me.
We never gave Sam anything like that kind of cheek.
Guess I just lack his authority.
Trying to ignore those black ears. Pricked at the sound of his name.
Paul sighs. Not what I meant.
I know.
Brief silence comes and goes. Paul is the one to break it. Asks about Henry. Asks if I am making any progress.
Is he still an annoying little shit, you mean? I reply. Yeah, he is. You got a brief taster back then. I had that this whole morning.
Paul chuckles again.
Well, I'm glad some things don't change, he says. Hear the smile in his voice.
You know, he goes on. I was thinking, actually. About how to help Embry.
Oh yeah? I enquire. And I see Sam's head bobbing in the corner of my eye.
Nodding. Encouraging Paul to go on.
Pointlessly block him again.
Just annoys me.
I am his Alpha. Take your heavy knowing blinks and your "talk to me Paul" eyes elsewhere.
I thought, Paul begins. I thought it might be good to try to kind of, um, get Embry and Jacob back together, again. I mean sure they both lost Quil; but why do they have to lose their other best friend as well? If they weren't so alone they would both get better. Heal. I'm sure of it.
Cut in.
Have you seen Jake recently?
Might be doing Paul an injustice. But kind of think I know what this is really about.
Old times.
Jacob and Quil and Embry were inseparable back then.
Paul and his stupid Old Times.
Back when the old times were actually taking place Paul was the last person any of us would have expected to become a nostalgic old git. Least of all himself.
No, he admits. Which is why I wanted to go and see him after this. And I was hoping that –
Nope, I say. Before he can get any further.
Come on, Leah, Paul whines. I really think you should come.
Really think I should not, I reply.
Why? he asks.
Stops and faces me.
Resign. Face him too.
Paul was not there the last time I went to see Jacob. Did not see the word coward push itself out of my mouth. Did not hear Jacob telling me never to come near him again.
Just get this vague feeling he would not want me there, I say. But go on, have a bro-to-bro. Will be interesting to hear what he says about me behind my back at least.
Don't talk like that! Paul snaps. The two of you had such a good bond. If it wasn't for you, the pack would have been wiped out in that stupid battle. I'm sure that –
Dwelling, I say.
Paul wavers.
I… What?
Dwelling, I repeat. What have I told you about dwelling?
Conversation pauses.
Paul softens.
Small smile crinkles his eyes. See my face reflected there and half-surprised to see it doing the same thing.
We could be twins, us. Equally aged to bone-white fur and scarred skin. Holding mirrors up to one another.
Honestly. Paul speaks low. Just a rumble through my ears.
One word. And it resonates through my mind and kind of.
Kind of warms me.
Honestly, I think he would appreciate it. To get a visit from the Alpha… It shows he's still at the top of our list. We haven't forgotten about him. We still care about him. All of that.
Think it might interest you to see just how much he would appreciate it, I say. And laugh a little.
But Paul. His face does not change. Eyes still fixed on me. Screwed on to me like bolts.
Think about everything Paul has done for me.
Think about this one minute thing.
Meet you there, I say.
Reaction is immediate. Began to think the ice fur on his face had frozen into place. But it splits as he grins.
Warm him up for me, I tell him. And I'll catch up later.
His assent is loud and clear and exuberant.
And then out of the blue he moves towards me. So quick a movement and moment I could have blinked and missed it. Licks the fur beneath my ear and nuzzles me with his snout.
And then he is gone.
Bounds through tree gates. Swing their branches open and shut behind him. So where there was Paul and his frayed fur and butter eyes and wet tongue there is now just a wall of green.
And the whispering in the leaves.
And a gentle pad of airy paws.
And a shadow coming to join mine.
Sam.
Had almost forgotten about him.
Shadow had become just that. Shadow.
I thought he would never leave, he says.
Turn to look at him.
Is he trying to impersonate Paul? Is he trying to mock me?
Is my mind just regurgitating things I have heard recently?
Brown eyes trying to be warm. Grinning lips trying to be playful.
Feel my skin crawl and my cells unsettle.
Do not believe any of it. Any of this stupid show he is putting on.
He is dead and that is it. He is a ghost I have conjured up to haunt me.
Break into a run.
Guess I am trying to escape.
And effortlessly he follows me.
Hey, Leah, he says easily. A hello would be nice.
Shake my head.
Strange thing is. Voice does not sound like it is coming from inside my head. Thought that if I covered my ears it would remain the same volume. But it is not like that. It is coming from a very specific point. Over there.
You know, I think he has a crush on you.
Not true.
You should nip that in the bud before it gets out of hand, Leah.
Shake my head.
I mean, that's what you do, right? Ignore people until they go away. Act like they don't exist until they don't exist. So you can be all alone; just how you like it.
Not true not true not true
Round on him. Four paws shoot out. Plant the ground.
Bare my ugly teeth. Hiss dirty globs of saliva. Shoot from me to him like stars.
But before I can even get started he is scrambling back.
Cowering.
Under a cacophony of Sorry sorry sorry sorry…
Imagine how I look. Growling ferociously at an innocent birch.
Fold my paws underneath my body. Legs like pillars to hold me up. And I need them. Because everything is shaking.
Sigh rises from deep down.
Buried pit.
Somewhere I did not know I had.
This way, I say.
For the second time I am leading him.
Away from the lordly trees and to the cliff edge where we first spoke with one of us dead.
Air is colder here. Because it is new. Not been passed through legions of old trees.
It is easier to breathe.
Close my eyes as wind runs its fingers through my hair. Feel rocks needle the soles of my feet. And wind prises open my eyelids.
Shows me distant skylines.
Black mountains blurred with blue fog.
Pigeon feathers dust the sky right down to the line of the sea. Met by waves reaching up. Black water bleeding into the canvas. So it is not really a clear line at all.
Is it?
Behind me Sam waits.
Pull my clothes on. Straighten up.
"Say what you have to say."
Wind carries my words back to him. Then gently pushes my face around.
He looks so solid now.
Half-naked and nervous before me.
For me.
Sight was pretty familiar a few years ago.
Why is the ghost of him so young and alive?
Does not look like the guy who played Peter with the lost boys. Kinging it over a pack of wolves for his last years.
Looks like the boy who was lost himself. Boy who used to read 'Treasure Island' in bed when he'd had a bad day. When he was feeling sad.
Black hair waves in the sea breeze. Muscles twitch under the sharp flick of the spray.
Catch sight of him straightening up. Puffing out his chest.
(Finding it hard to believe now. That it does not harbour a beating heart).
Half expect him to tap a microphone.
Know what he is thinking –
Now is my chance.
Idiot.
Begins:
"Leah. You –"
Stops.
And then holds an arm up to his eyes. For inspection.
Its hair stands to attention in the sea breeze. Crusts white in the salt.
He looks up at me. Awe and marvel and delight shine his eyes and pull his lips into a barely-believing smile.
"I can feel it," he breathes.
Return his gaze. Steady.
"I think it's the sea," he says. "The sea helps me sense."
Think, what does he want me to say?
So I shrug. Hope it conveys just how much I do not care.
Sam gathers himself.
Begins again:
"I mean. Just. I mean come on, Leah. You're not going crazy."
Breathless laugh.
"I mean… You? Crazy? I mean. I mean that just doesn't make sense. It's totally implausible."
Talking crap:
"I know you're not going crazy. And I know that you know too. I mean you might not think you know it, but you do. It's like you don't know it with your skin, but you know it with your bones. You know I'm not your imagination. You know I'm not an illusion. You know that I'm real!"
Starting to panic:
"But… What you don't seem to grasp is… I mean, that is to say… I mean, if you keep ignoring me, that might not be the case much longer! My… being real, that is. I think… I think my existence depends on your acceptance of it."
Words come faster. Slip into each other. Heartbeat pumps into his voice.
"So if you convince yourself I'm not really here, I'll disappear! I think I can already feel myself slipping away. Please, Leah. I can't go back to that. Stuffed in a dark silent box with only my own thoughts. Nobody to see and nobody to speak to."
Remember the way Sam used to panic. When he was five years younger. Over test results and quotes he had forgotten and overdue coursework. Used to flap his sweaty hands and run them through his hair. Wipe his glasses obsessively on the front of his shirt. Used to tease him.
"Please, Leah. Don't let me go back. I can't bear it. Please don't ignore me."
"Okay, Sam."
Cut in without realising.
Do not think it is me speaking.
Something inside me needs to help him.
Someone.
Someone only my bones remember.
Old patterns I guess.
"Okay, Sam," she assures him. "I can see you. I can hear you."
"Please don't ignore me anymore," he begs.
Teardrops hug strands of his black hair. Wet the rock and roll into the sea.
"I won't," she says. "I promise you, I won't."
Listen to his breaths.
In out.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
Okay. That's it.
"I don't know why I'm stuck here,"he says. Voice still a little shaky. "But there must be a reason. I just… I need your help in figuring it out. So I can get out of here."
She speaks.
"But just think about it this way," is what she says.
Her voice is so young smooth. Weightless. It flies.
Words are slow and soft to soothe him. Keep him calm. Like he is a child.
She frames the next part like an essay title.
"How can someone trust that they are not losing their mind, if the person telling them so is a part of their mind?"
Asking him to use his brain I guess. To construct an argument.
Tentatively he nods.
Looks about him. Raises his nose. Like the wolf inside him is sniffing for an answer.
Head falls. He points.
Follow the line of his arm.
Nestled in dead vines is a rotten log. Like an amputated limb. Faintly red under its mouldy bandages.
"If you look under that log, you'll see a pile of lighters."
Why not.
Its skin is wet and weak under my hands. Uproot the dead vines as I roll the log over.
Sure enough. Unearth a lighter graveyard. Mud is littered with their multi-coloured bodies.
"They belong to Paul."
Voice sounds right next to me. Feel the ghost of his breath on the nape of my neck. Where I have felt it a million times before.
"Do not sneak up on me!"
"Sorry,"Sam replies. Takes a step back.
Some of the flame makers crawl out of the damp earth. Some lie prone on top of it.
Thinking there is maybe something bigger going on here. Something ancient.
"Every time he bought a new one I would steal it and hide it up here. Drove him crazy. Figured I would just annoy the hell out of him until he gave in and kicked the habit. And it actually worked."
Sam never understood the meaning of giving people space.
Rack my brains. Scrabble through my subconscious. Looking for déjà vu. Looking for a sign I knew about these lighters before.
She speaks.
To me.
Logically. Clearly. Confidently.
That log was overgrown with creepers. Had not been touched in years. You had no idea these lighters were here and you know it.
Something bigger. Something ancient.
"You can ask Paul,"says Sam. "He'll tell you."
Sam's voice, still so piercing. But mine comes from far away.
"I will,"it says.
Maybe later I will wake up.
"Your mind is just too strong for that kind of thing, Leah."
Soothing.
Soft.
And
And you know what –
Shut the fuck up.
Something snaps inside me and I am back where I am.
I am here.
Feel the breeze coming from the sea. Feel the strength of the stone seep into my legs. Feel myself sink into it.
Feel anger.
"Is that what you would tell Embry and Jacob? That their minds just were not strong enough?"
Sam's two eyes, one mouth, round coins of surprise.
Go on. "'Because me, I just blame you, Sam."
Sam glides back.
That is what I notice. Does not stumble. Does not trip.
Glides.
"Is that what you would tell Quil? Was he not strong enough?"
Sam still backing up. Seems so afraid.
"Tell you something. Do not see Quil hanging around here moaning about being unable to move on."
Look at his body. Wavers like air rising from hot earth. Clouds drift over his skin. Blur its lines and textures. Until his eyes are set in shadow.
Scared eyes.
Brown eyes.
"You fucked us all over. And then you march back in here and demand I help you? Well. That is not likely, Sam Uley. My pack is only just recovering from the damage you did."
Damage.
And before I can stop him Seth is in my mind. Before I can stop him he knocks down the walls.
Parades in front of me. And Sam.
Seth. Passed out in our front garden. Seth. Trying to tiptoe in at six in the morning after no word for four days. Falling. His knee-bones knocking together and clattering to the floor. Me, jolting awake and running out to the hall to help him.
Emptiness he leaves behind. Emptiness he cannot fill when he comes home.
Eyes fixed on a bowl of cereal. Swivelling up to meet mine.
Met with glass. Dull deadened glass.
Find myself close to the edge. Faces of the waves stare up at me blank as my brother's.
Sam has dissolved into a low black fog. Hiding under the tree roots on the threshold of the forest.
Air is so fresh out of the forest. Salt sharp on my nose and tongue.
"Wish Quil was here," I sulk. "Would be better company."
Sam's voice sounds from the rocks and leaves. From the earth. And the waves all that way down below. And breathes down from the sky on the wind.
I know.
Watch my paws push a handful of stones to their deaths.
No.
Not their deaths.
To other lives.
At the bottom of the sea. Maybe.
Or on another shore.
Breathe in.
Fresh air.
Takes a few breaths. But then I feel okay.
And then I feel something else.
Sam. Behind me. Creeping out from those tree roots and the cobwebs strung between them. Feel his shadow. Curling into corporeality.
Makes me shudder.
Speaks. And
And it is just Sam. Voice, coming from one place. Like before.
A centred point. Behind me.
Says my name. Just that.
Huff and turn to the West. Steel clouds. Churning machinery of an ocean. Hard to tell what is sea and what is sky when everything is so grey.
"Newsflash, Sam. I am busy. And yes, that is your fault too. So excuse me. Do not really have time for your problems right now."
Proud to say my voice is coming from me. From a deep canal in my chest and from nowhere else. Nobody else.
Hear his voice. Beaded with tears.
"I didn't know, Leah," he says. "About Seth. I'm so sorry."
"Oh, fantastic," I say.
Me? I am not crying.
Repeat. "Fantastic. You're sorry. Well, that is just fantastic."
Drops of salt water rise from the sea and catch my tears.
So I was never crying.
Promise.
But if I stay like this. (Sam behind me. Turned so I cannot see him. Hearing the voice he spoke with when he was still at school and most he worried about was something I had made him think he'd done wrong, or something Mr Krebs said, or my kid brother's grades). It could be us.
Years ago. When Sam was always apologising over some stupid minuscule thing.
And I can pretend.
Can pretend that later I will tell him everything is okay. And believe it under the blankets of my bed and under the shelter of his arms. Smelling the sweet sweaty smell at the roots of his throat. Where my breath tickles him.
And know that everything waiting for us is clean and fresh and whole.
"I didn't know," he says again. "I'm sorry."
Eyelids drift together. Current of the breeze inhales and exhales.
Wish he would just shut up.
A common greyness silvers everything,—
All in a twilight, you and I alike
—You, at the point of your first pride in me
(That's gone you know),—but I, at every point;
My youth, my hope, my art, being all toned down
To yonder sober pleasant Fiesole.
There's the bell clinking from the chapel-top;
That length of convent-wall across the way
Holds the trees safer, huddled more inside;
The last monk leaves the garden; days decrease,
And autumn grows, autumn in everything.
'Andrea del Sarto: the Flawless Painter,' Robert Browning
A/N: Longest chapter yet? It took me bloody ages to get this all edited and there are bound to still be several mistakes. Hey, we get past it.