A/N: This chapter didn't really end at all as I'd anticipated. I hope you like where it goes.

I've also added another chapter to The Dispossessed - a Jacob POV missing moment from chapter 13, when he goes to the Cullens' to see Nessie after her fight with Bella and Edward. I'd love to hear what you think.

As always, thanks for reading!

It didn't take long for Leah to realize that she was avoiding Embry.

He didn't seem to notice - he spent every free moment locked in his room behind an easel, or driving to Seattle to talk to Jamie about his paintings and the exhibition.

Jake noticed, though. Leah could tell by the way he watched her with this sort of sad, puppy-dog look in his eyes. Or maybe that was just him missing Thing.

It was the first week of December, and Thing was still exiled in the frozen North. She and Jacob talked on the phone a few times a day, and Leah had seen in Jake's mind that Nessie was happier than she'd been in months. Leah knew that was the only way Jake could tolerate his imprint's three-week absence. Bella and Edward had taken the opportunity to go on the honeymoon they'd never had, and were off gallivanting around Europe, last Leah had heard. Personally, she was thrilled to have the local leech population down by four (and a half), but she knew Jake was furious at how easily Bella and Edward had fostered off their daughter just to get a little peace.

Leah quickly found the biggest problem with avoiding Embry was the loneliness. Suddenly her days were a lot longer and a hell of a lot less fun. She was annoyed that she'd let herself become so dependent on a stupid boy – again – and she decided that going cold turkey was the only solution. Leah Clearwater did not need anyone, least of all Embry Call, with his big brown eyes and idiotic grin and floppy, boy-band hair.

A solid week of sulking reached an all-time low on Sunday, when she actually spent the evening watching movies with Mom and Charlie snuggling on the couch. After that, Leah decided to try a different approach. Like it or not, Embry was her friend, and she didn't have any real reason to be avoiding him. Just because Jake dropped some stupid insinuation… It wasn't like he was the expert on healthy relationships, anyway – why should she listen to Jake's opinion on anything?

With her conscience clear and her head held high, Leah went to Embry's place on Tuesday. Embry answered the door with a huge grin and Leah tried not to let the warm glow of relief show on her face as he pulled her inside.

"Hey, come in! I haven't seen you in forever!"

"Yeah, sorry, I've been…"

"Busy, I know. Jake said you were pulling extra shifts at the store."

Leah clenched her jaw, but nodded. That interfering little asshole. She'd have to thank him later. Or punch him in the face. Whichever came first.

"So, how's things?" Embry asked, getting out stuff for sandwiches without bothering to ask if she was hungry.

"Boring, mostly. You know, with Seth gone and Jake doing his Old Yeller impersonation."

Embry gave her an apologetic grin. "Yeah, sorry I've been AWOL."

Leah shrugged. "It's cool. It's not like we need to hang out all the time."

"Right," Embry agreed, his back to her.

They were silent until he set a towering stack of sandwiches on the table. Leah took a bite before speaking.

"How are the paintings going?"

Embry's grin was quick and bright, and nearly as dazed as it had been when Jamie first mentioned the exhibition.

"Really good, I think. Jamie's happy with them. I'm mostly doing landscapes for the exhibition, but he says some of the Quileute stuff is really good, too. I'll show you later."

"Am I interrupting?"

Embry waved her off. "Nah. I was about to stop for the day, anyway. Mom's been hinting at some stuff she wants me to do around the house. Think she's afraid to distract me now that I'm finally 'making something of myself.'" He rolled his eyes. "What are you doing today?"

"Other than being bored out of my mind?"

"Want to be bored out of your mind while you help me do laundry?"

"Oh, totally," Leah said, voice flat, but she didn't offer to leave as they finished lunch and started clearing up.

Laundry and dishwashing aside, the afternoon was the shortest Leah had had in weeks, and she tried not to think about why as she and Embry joked and bickered their way through his chores. After the second load of laundry was in, Embry took Leah to his room to show her his new paintings.

They were breathtaking. Jamie had obviously been pushing him toward bigger canvases, and the four walls of Embry's room were covered with vast seascapes, scorching sunsets and fog-capped mountains.

She spotted a stack of smaller canvases in the corner and wandered over to them. Brady and Collin play-fighting in wolf form. A group of ancient warriors in wolf skins, nearly invisible in the foggy green light of the forest. A dugout canoe drifting on the ocean at dawn.

"Those are the ones I do for myself," Embry said behind her, his voice closer than she'd expected. She could feel his body heat on the back of her neck, and she didn't turn around.

"They're my favorites," she said, and cleared her throat when her voice came out husky.

She heard Embry sit on his bed and glanced over to find him with his elbows on his knees, his chin resting in his hands.

"Jamie says he thinks there's a good market for some of the stuff like that – you know, stuff that's obviously Native. He said he'd talk to a few of the galleries in Seattle about showing them, but I'm not holding my breath. I hear it's pretty hard to get into places like that."

"Huh," Leah said, an idea beginning to form in her mind. She looked back at the canvases in her hands.

"I'm glad you like them."

"Yeah…" She looked back at Embry, then at the clock by his bed. "I've got a shift at the store soon."

"Yeah, I should head out to the Café," Embry said, getting to his feet. "But I'll see you soon, right?"

"Sure," Leah said, grinning. Embry gave her a weird look, but she didn't bother trying to decipher it. She'd just figured out exactly what she was getting him for Christmas.

December seemed to rush by. Seth came home for winter break to be fussed over by Mom and (when no one was looking) Leah. Thing's return was scheduled for after Christmas, which meant Jake would be put out of his misery soon enough, and also that there was no chance of a repeat of last year's horrific Clearwater-Cullen family dinner.

Instead, Christmas Eve found them at the Blacks', which was louder and more chaotic than ever with the Atearas and the Clearwaters, as well as Charlie, Jake, Billy, Rachel and Paul.

Paul wasted no time in sharing his big news: he'd tried to lift a crate of bricks at work the other day, and couldn't. He said it like most guys would announce their victory in a heavyweight boxing championship.

Rachel snuggled against his side and beamed up at him.

"We took his temperature - 98.6. Best Christmas gift I ever got."

Paul grinned and leaned down to kiss her, and Jake didn't even whine at them to get a room.

Leah tried not to stare, but it was tough. Paul looked... thinner. Shorter. Less barrel-chested. Human.

Shit.

Leah felt queasy and shook herself. Shouldn't she be happy? For Rachel and Paul, yeah, but also for the rest of them - for the proof that there was an end in sight. She could quit this whenever she wanted. Wasn't that a good thing?

"Damn," Jake said. "Guess I'll have stop breaking your nose now." Everyone laughed and the tension started to drain away.

"You'd better," Rachel warned, jabbing a finger into Jake's chest.

"Yeah, kid," Paul teased with a grin. "Respect your elders."

"Sorry, old man - I only respect my betters."

Paul laughed and reached up to tousle Jake's hair. Jake dodged and cuffed Paul gently on the shoulder.

When it was time to eat, the guys took the opportunity to huddle up in the living room and grill Paul outside of Charlie's hearing.

What did it feel like to be human again? Had he tried to phase? Could he feel it when the change happened, or had it been gradual? Could he feel cold now? Could he still feel the wolf inside? Leah tried to take it all in, but she kept being distracted by a rising sense of dread that she couldn't - or wouldn't - name.

"So, uh..." Quil muttered at one point when Rachel left the room, "is the... you know... the imprint... still the same?"

They all turned to stare at Paul, eyes wide. It obviously hadn't occurred to the others, but Quil looked anxious and sick. Of course - he would stop phasing when Claire caught up to his age. What if he woke up one day to find the imprint broken, and realized he'd wasted sixteen years waiting for some girl he didn't love anymore?

Paul seemed to be considering the question for the first time.

"No," he admitted, sounding surprised. "Not exactly. I mean," he shot an anxious glance at Jake, "I still love Rachel more than anything. I would do anything for her. But it's less like... a need, I guess? It feels less like instinct. More human. You know?"

Leah had no freaking clue what he was talking about, but Jake and Quil were nodding like they understood.

It wasn't until her shoulders relaxed that Leah realized she was... relieved. What the hell? She was freaked out that Paul was human, and relieved that the imprint slavery had sticking power? Jake and Quil were obviously relieved, too, but of course they were. Leah knew that they believed the imprints were fundamental to their beings. Without their imprints, they thought wouldn't be themselves anymore. It was horrifying and untrue, but she could empathize.

Ugh. She had seriously been inside Quil and Jake's heads for way too long. For the millionth time that night, she wished Embry was there.

Thing called after dinner, and Leah managed a grudging "Merry Christmas" when Jake's phone got passed to her on its way from Seth to Charlie. Bella and Edward were in Alaska too, and it looked like Charlie was settling in for a long chat with them (long for Charlie, anyway). The Atearas had left and Paul and Rachel were washing dishes, and Leah decided that now was as good a time as any to give Embry his Christmas present.

"I'll see you at home," she told Mom. Mom, God love her, didn't ask questions - just nodded and squeezed Leah's hand. Jake freaking beamed at her and she resisted the urge to flick him off - interfering jackass - and headed out into the frosty air.

At least it wasn't raining. Leah took a shortcut through the woods, grateful that she'd been allowed to wear jeans and sneakers this year. The Cullens' absence had so many perks, despite the annoyances caused by Jake having too much time on his hands. The matchmaker act was worse than his sulking.

The lights were on in the Calls' living room, and Leah hesitated before ringing the doorbell, not wanting to interrupt an Embry vs. Mrs. Call knock-down drag-out. When Embry answered the door, though, she could see that they were just watching TV. Mrs. Call looked around to see who it was and seemed genuinely pleased to see Leah.

"Merry Christmas," Leah said, feeling awkward.

"You too, Leah," said Mrs. Call, smiling around her cigarette. "Where's your family?"

"Home," Leah lied. "They said to wish you a merry Christmas." Another lie, but she didn't want to ruin the mood with tribal politics. Things had never been completely comfortable between Tiffany Call and the Council members, and relations had turned downright frosty since Embry started running around shirtless at all hours of the night with their kids. Leah figured the only way she'd won Mrs. Call over was by being more of a bitch than Mrs. Call was herself.

"Come on," Embry said, nodding toward his room.

He shut the door behind them and started shoving piles of clothes off his bed, clearing a place for Leah to sit.

"Okay, so don't get excited, but I kind of got you something," Embry told her.

"Me? Excited?" Leah deadpanned. "Please."

"Seriously, Leah, calm down. You know it's embarrassing for me when you get all emotional."

Leah grinned at his back as he dug around under his bed, his hair a tousled mess. After a moment, he straightened up and handed her a package wrapped in hideous green and red paper. It felt like a painting, and Leah was about to tear it open when Embry grabbed her hand.

Leah glanced up, startled, to find Embry's face close to hers. His eyes were on their hands, and he was blushing.

"Don't... don't open it until you get home, okay?" His voice was gruff, and he swallowed hard. Leah watched, transfixed, as the muscles shifted in his throat, smooth lines cutting new shadows as they moved.

"Afraid I'll get too excited?" she teased, but her voice was weak and the joke fell flat.

Embry half-smiled anyway. "Something like that."

Leah let go of the present and Embry dropped her hand like he hadn't realized he'd been holding it. He stepped back, folding his arms, and Leah was relieved and sorry, all at once.

She sucked in a lungful of air and searched for something to say.

"Paul's human again," she told him, remembering.

Embry's eyebrows shot up.

"What?"

Leah shrugged like it was no big deal. "Couldn't lift some bricks at his construction site the other day. The thermometer says he's a nice, cool 98.6."

"Shit." Embry blinked hard a few times, like he was trying to get something out of his eye. "Shit," he repeated.

"Not as relieved as you thought you'd be?" Leah asked, then bit her tongue. She sounded like she was accusing him of something instead of trying to commiserate.

Embry didn't seem to mind, though. He never did.

"No, I'm not," he admitted, like it was an easy thing to say. "I don't know... it's like... Now that we know it's possible, it's like... why are any of us still doing it?"

Leah's stomach clenched. That was the question she'd been trying not to ask herself all evening. Why did the thought of it scare her so much?

"Well, Jake and Quil have to, and Seth, Brady and Collin want to, and..." she trailed off, at a loss. Where did that leave her and Embry?

Embry sat next to her, close enough that she could feel his heat through her shirt.

"Maybe we couldn't quit," he mused. "You know, without a good reason, like Paul and Jared and Sam have."

"Maybe," Leah muttered. Great. So maybe you needed an imprint to be human. That didn't exactly make her feel any better.

"Do you want to quit?" Embry asked, apparently bringing out all the tough questions tonight.

If he'd been anyone else, Leah would've told him that of course she did. All she'd ever wanted was to quit, to be herself again, for herself, by herself, without half a dozen boys and an angry wolf in her head, each pulling her in a different direction that all led away from who she used to be. Sometimes it felt like, even if she could stop phasing, she'd never find her way back to that girl again. Maybe she couldn't. So where did that leave her?

Leah forced herself to dig deeper. She wouldn't say she didn't want to quit phasing because she was scared. There had to be something more. She couldn't accept that she was missing her life just because she was afraid to live it.

That wasn't right anyway, she realized. This - the wolf, patrols, phasing and fighting, Embry, Seth, Jake and Quil - this was her life now. They'd dragged her out of herself and towards themselves, and she'd done it to them right back. They were bound together. A family. A pack. She wouldn't stop now even if she could.

The realization hit her like a blow to the chest, shaking her to her foundations. She'd always hated the transformation for taking away her choices - where she went, what she did, who she dated... Now that she had a choice to make, she found herself making one she never thought she would.

"I don't want to quit," Leah said, a little breathless. "Do you?"

Embry hesitated, then shook his head.

He put an arm around her shoulders and Leah didn't pull away, not even when he rested his forehead against her temple and his nose brushed her earlobe.

After a moment, she let herself lean against him and find comfort there. They were in this together. Just like always.

In a million years, she'd never have guessed her life would bring her here. When she was younger, she'd been on a clear trajectory – so straight and narrow it hadn't even occurred to her to wonder if it was what she wanted.

Then her devoted boyfriend had dumped her for her cousin. Then Emily had been mauled so badly that Leah couldn't even hate her anymore. Then Dad had died. And just when every thread that wove her life together had been ripped out of place, Leah had turned into a werewolf.

Dad used to say that everything in life had a good side and a bad side. "Just as the Moon has two faces, so does every moment of our lives. He who tries to take only the good half will end up with neither."

Leah wasn't sure how much stock she put in that – after all, there would never be a good side to losing Dad. All the same, Leah had to admit that in addition to pain, humiliation, anger and fear, phasing had brought her a new family, just when she'd needed one most.

And it had brought her Embry. For however long she got to keep him.

"I have something for you, too," she said after a while.

"Oh, yeah?" Embry asked, his voice husky in her ear.

Leah forced herself not to shiver as she grinned.

"Don't get too excited."

The Calls' computer was ancient, and buried under bills and shopping lists in a corner of the kitchen. Leah sat in front of it, bouncing her foot as the dialup stalled.

"What, is it not here yet, or something?" Embry asked, leaning over her shoulder as she started typing in the web address.

"It's here," Leah said. "It went live today."

Embry frowned, and Leah enjoyed his confusion for the few moments it took the page to load. Then it did, and she took a few more moments to enjoy his reaction.

At first, he clearly didn't get it. Then his eyes widened and he lurched forward. His mouth fell open. Leah bit her lip, grinning.

A few more seconds went by in silence, and Leah started to get nervous. Professor Gibson said it was really good, but she knew it was kind of a big liberty to take with something as personal as Embry's paintings. And she definitely hadn't asked permission.

"Do you like it?" she finally asked. "I can change it, you know - the background, the layout, how the images are displayed. And you can change the prices, too. Or take it down, if you want. I just thought..." She shrugged, feeling more embarrassed than ever. "I thought you deserved to be in a gallery."

"This is the best thing anyone has ever given me," Embry whispered, his voice hoarse.

Leah beamed at him, not bothering, for once, to hold it in.

The house was dark by the time Leah got home. She could hear Mom's steady breathing when she passed by her door, and she guessed Seth was still over at Jake's, or out with other friends.

Once she was in her room with the door closed and the curtains drawn, Leah sat on her bed and looked at Embry's present. As her fingers traced the edges of the wrapping paper, she remembered the rough warmth of his hands on hers, keeping her from opening it. Like he was afraid of her reaction.

Leah started to feel a little afraid of her own reaction the longer she stared at the thing. What she felt for Embry had gone past friendship, and even if they both stopped phasing tomorrow, that was always going to be complicated and terrifying and strange.

Her lungs were tight, and she could feel the blood pounding in her temples. God, she just wanted things to stay the same. But the look in Embry's eyes when he'd stopped her from opening the painting made her wonder if they were about to change no matter what.

She took a deep breath, and then another, glad that no one was here to see her be such a coward. Then, with one final breath, she ripped the paper away and looked down.

It was her. No landscapes, no wolves, nothing but Leah - or at least the version of her that Embry apparently saw.

She was... too pretty, for one thing - her skin glowed like burnished copper, and she was smiling, her eyes bright and happy. Her blunt haircut, which she'd always thought looked so masculine, curved around her face like a smooth, black frame. Her chin was softer than she thought it probably was, her lips a little fuller. She swallowed hard as she noticed the attention Embry had paid to the curve of her collarbone and the hollow at the base of her throat.

Leah's eyes burned and overflowed as the wall she'd constructed against the pack's jokes and insinuations trembled under the weight of the truth. Whatever Embry felt for her was way past friendship, too. This painting was like a love letter. And Leah had no idea how the hell she was going to answer it.