25 - Fault

Bella was pulled from horrific dreams of charring flesh and licking flames by a soothing rhythm reminiscent of a heartbeat. She froze and listened to the sounds around her weaving her back into the conscious world.

The rhythm that had pried her from the incineratingly vivid nightmare was still thumping softly, playing percussion to a hollow swishing and spattering sound. She was lying curled on her side, her cheek pillowed against something cold and hard, bouncing against her face with movement around her.

Slowly Bella opened her eyes.

Her gaze washed over her entire frame of vision, taking in as much of her surroundings as she could without moving her head. She desperately tried to orient herself as her own pulse sprinted ahead, pulling forth a chilling foreboding with it.

It was night and she was in the back of a car driving through the rain. The windshield wipers moved back and forth like an automated puppet show and rain drops sprinted across the window in streaks that caught the streetlights. A hushed swish heralded a car passing. She frantically tried to blink back the choking sense of dread and disorientation to trace back her last memory.

Oh, God. No.

Paul.

As if she had never stopped crying, her eyes immediately brimmed with tears and her breath drew in a long shaky sob of aching and disconsolate sorrow. She had not wanted to awaken again.

Cool, smooth fingers brushed her hair back from her face and the touch repulsed her. "Hush darling. All is well," a familiar voice crooned over her ear.

Bella shot up, scrabbling back and hitting the side of the car door with the jerking force of her movement. "What? Where is he?" her voice was hoarse and hushed. "Where's Paul?"

"He's gone, Bella. I'm so sorry," Alice's voice somber and apologetic as she peered back over the front seat with sympathetic eyes. "He got bitten, remember? There was nothing we could do."

"He's dead?" Bella gasped. "Paul's d-dea-" she gagged on her disbelief as her body convulsed with instant soul-wracking sobs.

Edward's voice wrapped around her with a lulling angora. "He is, love. I'm truly sorry Bella. But it is for the best -"

"What? How can you say that!" she choked in a whisper, her eyes wildly darting over Edward's concern. "Why am I not dead? Why am I here!"

Her grief crashed over her in a crushing deluge. Edward reached out a marble hand and Bella whipped around to claw at the door to the car. "WHY!"

Edward yanked her back as the door popped open and rain blew in, spattering up from the rushing asphalt. "Stop the car, Jasper!" he bellowed and then mercurially switched to a hushed murmur by her ear. "Darling! You could injure yourself. I understand–"

"It's your fault! You wanted him dead! That's why you didn't help him!" she shrilled with a throat already raw as she fought to twist out of his grasp and throw herself toward the car door that was bouncing open on its hinges.

"Jasper, a little help here, please?" Edward aimed his frantic request to the driver as he pulled Bella into the car with one lightning hand and shut and locked the door with the other.

"I'm trying. And it ain't working in the least. Jesus, she's -… her -… she's inconsolable," Jasper stuttered in a haunted whisper. He glanced up in the rear view mirror with a squinted brow as he jerkily pulled the car to the side of the road.

"Oh my God! No! Please, I want to die!" Bella pleaded in a shriek as she threw her head back with a crack onto Edward's shoulder. Moaning from the bruising impact, her berserk gaze raked the three sets of shocked yellow eyes in her utter desolation.

Edward's constraining grasp was a painful reminder of the large gash on her arm and her fevered mind remembered her wound. Her eyes snapped with feral delight to the gauze that was oozing crimson, her thoughts wild and raw.

Wiggling out of his grasp and wincing as the gash was reopened, she wildly ripped off the dressing and scrabbled toward the front seat. "Jasper! Jasper! DO IT! PLEASE!" Bella begged as she shoved her forearm recklessly toward him.

Edward pulled her back into the seat and wrapped his arms tightly around her like a straight-jacket as he hissed at the front seat reflexively.

"Maybe you should try the drugs, Edward," Alice's voice mused over Bella's frenzied wails.

Jasper pinched the bridge of his nose as he cut the engine. "I can't hardly bear it. Do whatever you need to do, but I...I can't stomach this - " he choked on his words. Roughly throwing the door to the driver's side open, he disappeared like a ghost into the rain-slicked night.

With a furrowed brow, Alice looked after where he disappeared into the forest. With a long sigh, she turned back to Edward who was fighting to restrain the wildly bucking body of the distraught girl without injuring her. "The sedatives?" he reminded her through gritted teeth.

Alice nodded and rummaged around the foot well of the passenger seat.

"No! I just can't take it! Please, Edward…I can't!" Bella's screech was grating and deranged. "Please! Please kill me…"

Edward roughly forced her around to face him as she rabidly kicked. With his cold, granite fingers he held her cheeks firmly, effectively silencing her shrieks by clinching her jaw. "Bella, my love. Stop, now," he crooned looking deeply in her eyes.

Bella frantically shook her head against his vise-like grip and alluring glamour.

"Hush, love… all will be well, you'll see. Stop, now." His voice was mesmerizing, the pupils in his golden eyes so huge that they swallowed her whole. Bella's strength dissolved into the congealing ache of a thick, viscous sorrow.

"P-please….no," she whimpered piteously, feeling like each second stole another piece of any sanity out from under her, like the tide steals the sand.

"Shh, you'll see," he smoothed her wild hair back from her teary cheek with one hand and a cock to his head.

Bella struggled to remember something. Something that had torn out her very heart and soul.

"We have so much to look forward to together, love." Edward smiled the crooked smile of his that had always so enchanted her. "There now, all better darling."

Without taking his eyes from hers, he grabbed what Alice handed him over Bella's shoulder.

Bella trembled in his iron grasp, trying in vain to rip her eyes from the hypnotic honey stare that had numbed the burned out shell that was her body.

She sucked in a shaking sob of utter hopelessness.

Something was wrong. Very very wrong.

"This will help you rest – you've been through too much for one so young, darling. You just need to rest," he whispered under his breath as he shoved several round, slick pills past her lips.

"Take these," his finger lingered over her tongue with cold and provocative caress that made her gag.

Bella squeezed her eyes shut in a final act of defiance as an open bottle of water was put to her lips.

"Everything's fine, my love," he continued his bewitching murmur as he poured the liquid and pills down her throat. "Everything's fine."

But Bella knew…

Nothing was fine. Nothing could ever be fine again.

'

'

Sam raked his hands through either side of his short hair and hung his head in his hands. How could he have fucked this up so royally?

He had tried. Lord knows he tried.

But it just hadn't been good enough.

"I think you need to tell him, Sam," Emily's voice infused warmth into his battered soul like sunshine in winter. "Now."

He felt her cool hands wrap around his wrists and gently tug. With a sigh, he let his hands drop to this thighs and looked up to where she crouched in front of him in their living room. Her black liquid eyes shined with concern and – as always – with unmitigated, unconditional acceptance.

She was the one reason on the gods' green earth that made it possible for him to keep faith in the mercy of whatever had laid such a life before him. He took in a long slow breath and tried to expel his humiliation and shame with its exhale.

"It's not the time, Em. He just woke up yesterday," Sam murmured as his fingers naturally reached out to touch her beautiful face.

The face he had ruined.

Sam had caused so many people pain because of his many stunning failures. Just like his father.

Emily's hands grabbed his cheeks. "Samuel. Look at me," she hissed with uncharacteristic ferocity.

Sam met her gaze in surprise.

"Do you trust me? Do you?" she rasped.

He nodded slowly in her hands. "You know I do, Em."

"Then do this for me, if you can't do it for yourself," she whispered, aching sorrow pulling the words taut. "Do it for me, honey." Emily smiled sadly as her palms followed his jaw down to rest on his shoulders. "None of us thought it would be like this – we thought they were just stories. I can't watch this strong back bent under the weight of so much you never should have had to bear in the first place: Leah…me.. pulling the pack together. Now Jacob and Paul… and Bella. It's too much. You have to share it, baby. I need you to…" her voice was hushed and pleading.

Sam swallowed thickly as he leaned in to rest his forehead against his mate's.

After a moment, he breathed in a barely audible whisper, "It's all my fault."

She shook her head fiercely against his. "No it's not. It's just the way life is..apparently." Emily's breath was warm and sweet over Sam's face.

"You already had to grow up too fast when he left – play 'man of the house' for your mom before your voice had even changed. And you did it so good, Sam. You're not like him."

Sam sniffed a laugh – a bitter sound. "What, you're psychic now too?"

"I wish," Emily rolled her eyes as she pulled back with an attempt at a humorous half-smile. "I just know you've been trying to make up for someone else's mistakes for far too long. I can't take seeing the man I love – and a damn good man, Sam – being eaten away inside while I watch anymore." Emily licked her lips as her eyes darted pleadingly between his. "Please. If not for you...for me?"

Sam closed his eyes for a long moment. He knew she was right on some level, even if he couldn't admit it. He was so tired – a bone-deep weariness from too many years of being burned alive by tormenting guilt and uncertainty ...as well as this fucking preternatural curse.

Sam drew in a deep capitulating breath and let it out slowly with a minute nod.

Emily's smile was bittersweet as she leaned in to press her lips to his: she knew this wasn't a victory.

It was – for him – a defeat.

'

'

A knock at the door jerked Jacob from his light and restless slumber. He groaned and blinked at the ceiling. He had hated being awake these last 24 hours. Of course when his mind was actually clear from the mind-numbing pain, he realized he was grateful to have woken up again at all.

The battle had taken place almost two nights ago and it hadn't gotten any better; it wasn't just the physical pain that was unbearable…it was the emotional agony.

He turned his head, half expecting to see Leah coming back in to lean against the wall - as close to the door as she could be – as she had been since he had awoken yesterday, watching him with that unfathomable expression.

But it wasn't Leah.

"Sam," his fallow voice croaked.

"Jacob," he replied, peering in through the cracked door. "Can I come in?"

Jacob grunted his assent and rubbed his face with the hand not bound and splinted along with his entire left side.

With his purposeful power, Sam stalked the few steps to Jacob's dresser that was strewn with Sue's medical supplies. He picked up a bottle of water and held it out with a raise to his brow.

"Thanks," Jacob mumbled as he struggled to sit up more against the pillows. At least he had the strength move now...and the ability. Sue now thought he would make a full recovery. Eventually.

Sam popped the top off and handed it to him and Jacob promptly emptied the entire bottle of tepid water down his throat gratefully.

"More?" Sam asked quietly.

"Nah, not now. Thanks." Jacob handed him the bottle. "Any news?"

Sam shook his head glumly. "No, we've run the whole county and there's no trace of their scent. Or hers," Sam let out a long sigh. "They've disappeared."

Jacob expelled a sharp breath of frustration through his teeth. "Fuck," he hissed.

Sam's gaze fell to his feet as his fingers dolefully played with the bottle cap.

Jacob sighed. The entire Pack was a mess right now, he could feel it in his knitting bones. "Any change with...?" he asked cryptically.

"Nope," Sam sighed heavily. "At least he's still breathing."

"This is such fucking bullshit," Jacob ground out suddenly.

Sam looked up in surprise.

"You had everything buttoned down as good as you could with these numbers. Leah and Seth did awesome – especially for less than a week with four paws and all the shit they've been through. Paul's … fuck, Paul's just Paul – no one coulda seen that one coming," Jacob mused, shaking his head incredulously. "But still we all feel like shit. It's fucking bullshit."

Sam turned and set the empty bottle down on dresser, and collapsed on the folding chair near the bed. He wiped his palms on his jean shorts uncomfortably. "Emily wants me to step down," he blurted under his breath.

Jacob blinked rapidly as his brow furrowed in confusion.

"'Ask you to take over," he clarified solemnly. Sam sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, letting Jacob process.

Jacob pushed himself up on the pillows more, grimacing with the pain. "What do you want?" he asked.

Sam pursed his lips and hung his head. "Shit, I think she's right Jake. I-.. I've fucked up so much…"

Jacob frowned. "No you haven't. No one else could have done the shit you've done ...and with no one to help out. None of this is your fault."

"Yeah it is." Sam looked up with tired eyes. "I'm management."

"Fuck that! What about the freaking Council! They're out of touch, even my dad says so. Look what they did with Bella!" Jacob's voice shredded with hoarseness as he reared off the bed indignantly.

"They don't get it, do they? But I lost one of the Pack… maybe two. On my watch. I just-… shit." He collapsed his elbows onto his knees as he expelled a breath through his teeth. "If it had been Emily…"

Jacob collapsed his head back in the pillow as his gaze raked the ceiling.

Sam continued, his voice soft and unadorned. "The bloodline thing… I mean you have such an easy time with the new wolves, helping them control. I can't help but wonder if you'd have done a better job with Paul and …"

Jacob turned his head quickly and regarded the dejected wolf. Sam had had a fucking time of it, all right. Just the stuff with Emily was heavy enough shit. Add Leah, new wolves, an obsolete group of old men who'd never Phased and who were even more behind the changing times…

He scraped his upper lip with his teeth thoughtfully as he returned his gaze to the water spot on the ceiling.

It wasn't a secret that Sam had been taking it all pretty hard for a while. Especially since Paul imprinted. But he'd never been heard complaining. He'd been responsible – holding it all together when a lesser man would have, himself, fallen apart. He'd done his best, and a damn good job of it. Even Paul had respected him.

Jacob needed to grow the fuck up.

Billy had been telling him this for a while now – in slightly kinder words. "You're headstrong and a pro-crastinator. Not no amateur," his dad liked to chide.

But this fight – seeing the very real threats they were up against –had put it all in a little more perspective.

And they had still lost Bella.

He had promised his best friend that he would protect her, and then had to come to the chilling realization that it was a promise he just couldn't make. He didn't lie to himself either and deny the fact that he had a hand in making things go the way they had with Paul. Her imprint.

He'd been a shitty friend. An even worse brother. He 'gotten it all' just a little too late.

Jacob turned back to Sam who was slowly wringing his hands between his knees, his broad shoulders bowed under all that was weighing him down.

"I'm not doing it alone," Jacob interjected suddenly.

Sam looked up sharply with a quizzical expression.

"I think the Council and all their old stories were great… way back when. But we gotta do stuff different now," Jacob smirked. "Especially if I'm gonna do the chief thing."

He had been thinking about this a lot lately – the late nights with the old man around their old crappy kitchen table had been good for something. He didn't give his dad enough credit, Jacob realized. He knew a lot more about what was going on then he ever let on.

"You know I can't even plan the next hour, much less do all the strategy stuff that you and Paul do. It's just not my thing. And I think we need to stir up the old men over at the Rez hall. That won't be me either – if I open my mouth down there, they'll take a shotgun to my furry ass so fast." Jacob's lips stretched into his roguish smile as Sam chuckled once at the image in spite of himself.

"If I'm gonna do it, you gotta be my wingman, Sam. My Second. My real Second."

Sam raised his brow at Jacob's inference. "Jared's done a good job," was all he said aloud.

Jacob nodded in agreement. "But he's more of a follower. We need another leader. I'm good with the guys – and Leah," he added quickly. "But I don't have all it takes. You know that."

Sam's silent lowered gaze was a subtle assent.

"Of course it will be an awesome perk not to have to listen to your big fat fucking mouth if I don't want to," Jacob mused – only half-way teasing.

Sam snorted irreverently, but Jacob didn't miss the fact that he sat up a little straighter in his chair.

They both fell into long pensive minutes of silence, each lost in his own thoughts.

Jacob cleared his throat and Sam met his gaze once again. "So when 'you wanna do this?"

A sound at the door made both of them whip around to see Billy pushing it open with the front of his chair.

Sam stood and moved out of the way, catching Jacob's eye with a knowing look. They both thought the old man was just a little too canny sometimes. Now was perfect case in point.

'

'

It was a good hour of hushed conversation later that all three decided that Emily had been indeed right.

Now was the time.

Jacob's ascendency – greased by the blood of his lineage – would bring a measure of essential solace and cement to the young Pack which was understandably reeling from their first very real and violent battle.

And casualties.

As an added bonus – since the Alpha drew from the energy of the Pack– it would also considerably improve and hasten Jacob's recovery.

Traditionally authority was passed on in a physical battle for domination where the current Alpha was bitten in a display of power and insubordination. That obviously couldn't happen in the current configuration. But Billy reckoned it was just a matter of taking a good chunk out of the leader–something that would never occur in a Pack's normal spar.

Though the human Jacob was dismayed by the prospect, he found his genes awoke with an unequivocal tingling of anticipation.

So when Sam soothingly kissed Emily's lips where she stood nervously beside Billy, Jacob's heart rate skyrocketed, but his wolf growled in ready ardor.

Sam approached the bedside with glittering eyes and quivering muscles, obviously struggling with his own instinct. Jacob knew that – ceremonial or not – he'd have to be quick before their wolves clawed their way to the surface of the two battered men. He called on what spirits and magic ran deep within his blood.

"So how do you want to-" Sam began.

And like lightning his arm was in Jacob's one-handed grip at his lips. The feeling of canines cleaving skin and the sweet sumptuous taste of Sam's blood squirting down his throat made him groan in shameless pleasure.

Sam dropped heavily to his knees with a low moan that was echoed by a chorus of deafening howls vaulting into the dusk.

Swallowing the chunk of flesh with relish, Jacob's body arched with the infusion of a warm, rich, potent power. Releasing Sam's arm, he gasped as some deep part of his soul was sated.

Opening his eyes, Jacob could feel them glowing hot and yellow as he toward where Sam's head was bowed beside him, his shoulders heaving. He automatically drew Sam's wrist back to instinctively lap at the wound in lupine appeasement.

To Jacob's relief, when Sam looked up there was an unmistakable acceptance - and peace - swimming in their dark depths.

It was his lineage of power - something ancient and recondite in his very makeup - that chose Jacob's next words. And when he spoke, his voice rumbled like thunder under the continued strident howling.

"Samuel… Second."