Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


Suggested Listening: "I Don't Know You At All" by Matthew Mayfield, "Everything But You Was Facing North" by Fossil Collective, "One by One" by Unkle Bob, "Be What U Wanna Be" by Sarah Fimm, "Comin' Home" by City and Colour

JACOB POV

"Jacob Black, get your ass in this kitchen and help me find the fucking cake pan!"

I slammed the top drawer of my dresser shut with more force than necessary, the objects scattered on top of it shaking with the momentum behind the movement. I reached out, steadying the barely-used bottle of cologne as I tried to remember how much I didn't miss that underlying tone in my sister's voice.

I'd gotten used to not having her around. At least I had before I left. She hadn't been living in this house for years, but now, even as I tried to adjust to all the changes around me, Rachel and her annoyingly pithy demands were just two more straws on the camel's back.

Whatever. It didn't matter. Rachel was the least of my worries right now.

She'd already forgiven me, at least as much as she could. It was easy for Rach because she was spared the worst of it when I left.

My eyes drifted to the two photos hanging above my dresser, my chest tightening, teeth grinding together unconsciously as my gaze landed on the one to the right. Instinctively, my eyes swept over the captured memory, taking in her smile, the way her hair fell over her shoulder, and even the way her fingers curled into my arm before the photo was taken.

I didn't have quite as much to make up for with Rachel as I did with others.

My fingers pressed into the dresser, threatening to splinter the wood if I put any more force behind the action.

With the thought of Bella came the others.

I couldn't keep those fucking thoughts from my head, thoughts that didn't belong to me and flashes I frankly could have gone the rest of my life without seeing. At least like this. Like a spectator to something that should have been mine. It was mine, but I'd been too stupid, too blinded with grief to see it through.

And now I was paying for it. Paying for it with images – someone else's memories – seared into my brain. Images of Bella and my best friend together in a way that she and I never were.

It wasn't right, and it gutted me to my very core.

I'm not sure what the hell I was expecting to come home to. A part of me hoped they would understand why I did it. A part of me was hoping they'd easily forgive me.

A part of me deep down hoped I'd come back to things exactly how I left them.

That part of me also happened to be delusional, all red flags and rational thought blinded by a haze of false hope and wishful thinking.

But underneath all that I knew.

I deserved this.

I deserved everything I'd gotten since I passed through Port Angeles, trying with every ounce of restraint in me to keep from pushing the gas pedal of the old truck Ben had lent me to the floor. I was only thirty minutes from home. Thirty minutes from her.

I deserved it when Bella pushed away from me, when she slapped me across the face, treating me exactly like the person I was – the person who'd built her back up once before I did the exact same thing to her. I deserved the look of hatred she gave me before she left me standing on the beach. The tears in the corners of her eyes were the price I paid for what I did to her.

The price she paid.

But it wasn't the worst.

The worst were these thoughts. The worst was what happened when I wasn't there to see.

I couldn't deny that deep down I was glad it was Embry who stepped up, who was there for her. A part of me actually expected him to. If there was anyone in this world I could see taking care of Bella as well as I could, it was Em. He was my best friend, my pack brother. He solved problems. He was the levelheaded one, the one that always talked me down, the one that always seemed to know what to do even when shit was rough.

He'd spent his entire life taking care of people because no one ever took care of him.

And fuck if it didn't make sense.

But that didn't make it easier to swallow. I'd never expected him to take care of her this much. To step up in this way. To be there for her like this. To not only make her happy but also to fill a role I'd previously occupied. To not only fill it but to make her happy, to please her – to love her – in a way I never had.

And I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me sick to my stomach.

Not because of who it was.

Because it wasn't me.

But that didn't mean I wasn't going to try. That didn't mean I wasn't going to fight for what I left behind, to right these wrongs I couldn't get my head around.

Everything was so messed up and I wasn't entirely sure how to deal with it. I was struggling, and some things I was going about completely wrong. Even I knew that. But everything was so different. Four months ago, I would have known exactly where to start and the best way to go about accomplishing what I needed to do.

I felt like none of that applied now.

It was like the entire pack dynamic had shifted in the four months I was gone. Everything recalibrated – new loyalties were formed – when I forced them to find a way to carry on without me. I'd been written off. Some of them were still trying to understand, but the cracks I'd caused were easy to see and they tore at me. They'd reformed in a way that even I barely recognized.

Just like Bella had.

Yet she was still there. There were still parts of her there I could see, parts I recognized, and if there was anyone in this world I knew better than myself, it was Bella.

I could see it in her eyes when she looked at me. I could see it in her expression. There was hesitation beneath that hardened mask, even when she told me things changed. Beneath her resolve, beneath that layer of pain and resentment she was holding on to, there was a flicker of the Bella I used to know.

The one who used to love me. The one who possibly still did.

And so long as there was a possibility, I couldn't back down. I couldn't accept it until she told me there was no chance, and even then, I wasn't so sure I could.

It was up to me to fix it all. It was up to me to fight for my pack. To fight for Bella.

That was the only thing I did know. Maybe I did deserve everything, maybe everyone did change, but it didn't change that voice, that nagging instinct inside me. I needed to fight for the people I loved, just like my father had taught me and just like Ben showed me. He didn't fight and, as a result, he had lost everything.

"JACOB BLACK!"

Shaking my head in an effort to clear it, I groaned as I pushed myself off the dresser with my palms. "Jesus, Rachel, I'm COMING!"

Emerging from my room, I huffed my way down the hallway before turning to go into the kitchen. Rachel was crouched to the ground, her body twisted and her head half-stuck inside the cupboard next to the refrigerator. The sound of metal clanging together was the only thing I heard aside from her muffled grunts of frustration.

"What the hell are you freaking out about?" I snapped, leaning against the refrigerator, my brow furrowing as I watched her. She jumped slightly before pulling her body back.

She glowered at me petulantly. "Cake pan. Where is it?"

Rolling my eyes, I shot a quick glance to the other side of the kitchen. "Did you check the cupboard above the stove? That's where it's been kept for the last eighteen years, Rach."

Rachel snorted as she ran a hand through her hair. "Thank you, Captain fucking Obvious. You say that like I didn't live here for most of those years." Rocking back on her heels, she propped her elbows against her knees before cocking an eyebrow in my direction. "I already looked there."

"Then I have no idea," I answered, taking a deep breath as she stood and turned to face the other direction, her eyes surveying the room almost like the cake pan would jump out of its hiding place the longer she silently bullied it.

Groaning, Rachel crossed her arms in front of her chest. "You know, I'm really glad Bella stayed in the house for a few months when you were gone, but she completely reorganized this fucking kitchen when she did. It took me 20 minutes to find the damn can opener yesterday."

My stomach twisted slightly at Rachel's mention of Bella. Sam had told me about Bella staying in the house. He told me how she did it, claiming it was so someone could be there to take care of the old place in case the roof sprung a leak or a pilot light blew out or some kind of excuse like that.

But I knew Bella, and I also knew she didn't know the first thing about pilot lights, not to mention how to fix a leaky roof.

She hadn't stayed here to take care of the house. I knew the real reason, and so did he, even if Sam thought he was trying to protect Bella by sparing me the truth.

She was here because she was hanging on. She was hoping. She was waiting for me to come back.

But she hadn't stayed here the whole time. Sam told me she went home a month or so ago with no warning. She hadn't told a single person she was leaving and they only found out once she was back and settled in Forks.

Which means that's when she stopped hoping. It was when she stopped holding on.

When she stopped waiting.

"Yeah, she definitely kept busy," I murmured as Rachel dropped to her knees once more.

I let the sour tone in my voice, implying something well beyond this house, fade as I snuck a glance over my shoulder and let my eyes scan the parts I could see. Bella had reorganized and cleaned every nook and cranny of the old red house. The guest room was cleared of old boxes, the stray cobwebs in the corner of the living room were missing, and shoes were lined up meticulously on top of freshly washed rugs. Her hairbrush was still laying atop the bathroom sink.

My bedroom was the only tiny spot in the house that was exactly the way it was when I left.

"THERE!"

Rachel's sharp, triumphant cry cut through my thoughts as she craned her neck and held the aluminum pan above her head. She flashed me a bright smile – the only person who'd really given me a proper smile in the past five days – before turning back and throwing her arms out, palms up, in disbelief.

"She put ALL the baking stuff down here under the stove – cookie sheets, muffin tins, everything. Who the hell keeps this stuff under the stove? What if you turn the broiler on?"

"It's metal, Rach – it doesn't melt."

"I knew that..."

With an aggravated sigh, I pushed myself off the fridge. Turning and opening the door, I retrieved the half-gallon of orange juice from the top shelf. Closing the door with my hip, I popped off the plastic cap and put the jug to my lips.

"What the hell do you need a cake pan for anyway?" I blurted out, the orange juice an afterthought as I lowered the jug without taking a drink. "Since when do you bake? Last time I checked you were the only person I knew who could burn water."

Rachel rose to her feet, the cake pan still gripped in her fingers before she haughtily slammed it down on the stove burners. She spun on the balls of her feet, popping out one hip and placing her hand on it just like she used to do whenever Dad was about to lecture her for something she didn't believe she did wrong.

"For your information, shithead, I'm going over to Sam and Emily's for dinner after the little training thing you guys are supposed to be having this afternoon," she spat out, glaring at me as she forcefully pushed each word out of her mouth.

"And you're taking a cake?" I blinked at her in disbelief. "That's rich. Who you trying to impress, Rach?"

The glassy look that spread across her eyes answered my question the same second I felt an agitated heat form at the base of my spine.

"Am I safe in assuming this isn't a dinner for three?" I muttered between clenched teeth.

Rachel let her eyes fall to the floor, a brief wave of subtle awkwardness creeping over her features. "If you must know? It's not." Her stare was shifting now between my feet and her own. "P...Paul and I are both going."

I again found myself fighting the urge to throw up.

If there was anything that rocked me almost as much as what I'd found out about Bella and Embry, it was the fact Paul – volatile, obnoxious, chauvinist Paul – had imprinted on my sister.

My sister.

I loved Rachel. She was my sister so I kind of had to, bad attitude and all. And even Paul, on his best days, was tolerable. When it came down to it, I knew he'd fight for his pack. He'd fight for his family. His loyalties were usually in the right place, even if he was a royal pain in the ass and was a huge douche more often than not.

But then he imprinted. On my sister.

It was like the spirits decided to plop a big old fucking cherry right on top of this messed up world I'd come home to.

The thought alone was enough to cause a shudder of rage to crawl its way up my spine. Had I been there when it happened, I probably would have piss-pounded him. I'd been in Paul's head and it wasn't a pretty place to be. In fact, his head wasn't flattering to any woman, and the fact Rachel had now replaced all those bimbos he previously used to get him through the most boring parts of his day was enough to make blood boil.

Then there was the fact I loathed the concept of imprinting in general.

Had I been here, I would have sat Rachel down. I would have told her she had options. I would have encouraged her to think long and hard about it, to try her fucking hardest to keep living her own life despite what our dead ancestors obviously thought was best for her.

That's what I would have done.

But again, I hadn't been there.

With each new thing I learned – with each change that kept cropping up – it became harder and harder to hang on to my resolve, my belief that staying away was the right choice. I couldn't help thinking that if I had been here, a lot of crap would have turned out very differently.

"Well, that's just fucking brilliant," I countered coolly as I avoided Rachel's insistent stare.

This time, Rachel sighed. "I don't like it anymore than you do, little brother, but...I can't help it. I kinda thought the same thing too at first. But I've spent some time around him and while I definitely don't plan on letting him scoop me up in his mouth and hide me in his kennel any time soon, he's just...he's just different around me. He's not the Paul I remembered. It's weird, actually. He was always such a blunt asshole, but when he's around me now, he's almost...tender."

I couldn't control how hard I rolled my eyes at her words. "I think I just threw up in my mouth a little."

She just gaped at me, almost like she was willing me to believe her. "Paul and tender are not two words that should be used in the same sentence – ever," I pressed on obstinately.

Rachel took a deep breath, releasing it in a heavy rush. "Just wait. I didn't believe it myself at first, but...you'll see. Maybe next time we're all together, after things kind of...I don't know...settle down."

My jaw tightened at her words. They were cryptic but I knew exactly what she meant.

Placing her hands on her hips, Rachel moved toward me and planted one hand on my shoulder, taking the orange juice jug from my hands and pushing me out of the way of the fridge. "So I know you have to be all wolfy and shit and you have responsibilities and all, but one of these days we need to start going through Dad's stuff."

Thinking about my father didn't do what it used to. Somewhere along the way, I stopped being numb. I stopped treading water, and the knives that pierced my gut dulled when I took a moment to remember my dad was dead.

When it came to taking those weeks, those months to myself, time had been good to me in that respect.

It was the only respect where it did me any favors.

The rest of the time was wasted. I spent months hiding, letting minutes, hours and days tick by. It was time I should have used to figure out how to handle everything, every possibility I left behind. I should have prepared myself, but I hid.

I hid until I didn't. I hid until I realized what I could lose if I didn't come home.

It was just like I told Bella – I needed to come home. I needed to step up.

Again, I needed to fight. I needed to because I hadn't been strong enough to do it in the first place. When it really mattered.

And when the fighting was done, when my burned bridges were mended, when everything was in its place, I could focus on doing what I needed to do to step up. I could focus on filling my father's shoes and taking charge of my family, my tribe.

I could take charge of the pack.

Like my dad always wanted. Like my dad said I should have done in the beginning.

"I know," I agreed, turning and shuffling out of the kitchen. I felt Rachel's eyes boring holes through me from her spot in front of the refrigerator. "There are a lot of things I need to work on one of these days."

And today – at the pack's training – would be as good a time as any to get started.


A few hours later, I was hiking through the woods, painstakingly making my way to the clearing near the treaty line.

It would have been faster to phase, to run to the training Sam scheduled for the afternoon. Probably would have been easier too, but facing everyone when they were phased wasn't something I was entirely sure I was ready for. At least not yet

Regardless, I was going to have to face it some time today. There was only one justifiable reason why Sam organized a "training" while everything between the me and the rest of the pack was still so volatile and unstable.

So I took a moment. I chose two legs instead of four so I could buy myself some time to figure out the best possible way to tell them – to show them – where I'd been for the past four months.

I'd wanted to do this one by one, to approach each pack member in a way that would possibly work with their personalities and the way they handled problems, but Sam was choosing to throw me in head first without a life jacket.

My pulse pounded and my breath was unnecessarily labored by the time I reached the river, automatically turning north to close that last mile between me and my possible absolution. Or my crucifixion.

It could still go either way at this point.

"So you forget how to grow your fur or something?"

Jerking my head back to look behind me, I was met by Quil's inquisitive stare as he appeared from behind a tree. For a second, I wondered how he managed to sneak up on me before he hopped over a fallen tree branch, raising his eyebrows in my direction. Quil shoved his hands in his pockets as he fell into step a few paces behind me.

"Nope," I replied softly. "Just figured walking would be a little more...quiet." Frowning, I shot another glance over my shoulder. "Where'd you come from?"

Quil's heavy sigh filled the moment of silence between us. "Was running and I saw you over here. Figured you might want some company. Been a long-ass time since we actually had to hike through these woods, you know. Takes a while."

"Yeah it does," I murmured, the words trailing off as I took a deep, contemplative breath. "So why the hell are you being so nice to me?"

"Dude," Quil chuckled gruffly. "Have you ever known me to hold a grudge?"

I felt a smile pull at my lips as I instinctively slowed my pace, allowing Quil to catch up in a few lithe, easy steps. "So you're not pissed at me?"

This time Quil scoffed, veering to the left as he avoided a dip in the earth below us. "Oh, I'm pissed. Trust me, I'm pissed." My jaw tightened inherently, preparing to put my guard right back up where it was just before Quil continued. "Doesn't mean I blame you, dude. For leaving, I mean."

My eyes widened for a second before I trained my bewildered stare on Quil. "Really?" The one-word question came out hopeful, practically dripping with shock behind it.

"Nope," Quil replied quickly. "I get it...your dad died. I know how that feels, even though I barely remember my dad. But that still doesn't mean I don't get it. And you've pretty much been like a brother to me my whole life and I'm not gonna hate you for fucking up, especially since you did the right thing...you came back. Better late than never, I always say."

This time I allowed a small smile to spread across my lips. "Thanks, Quil. It's kinda nice knowing I have someone in my corner."

Quil shrugged. "We're all in your corner, man – you're still pack. You're still family. We're still besties or whatever." I chuckled and snuck a glance at Quil, whose ridiculous grin enveloped his face before he let it fade just as quickly. "No one's really forgot that. Doesn't mean they're not pissed at you too though."

"Yeah, I gathered that much." I sighed before I reached out and pushed back a low-hanging branch. "Well, what are you pissed off about, Quil? I'm trying to make amends, so the best way to do this might be one person at a time."

"Honestly?" Quil mulled the question over for a second, clearly taking a moment to compose the best possible answer he could give me. Before he spoke, he let out a long, rough breath. "I guess what I'm most pissed off about is how you tore back in here thinking everything would be exactly the same as it was before you took off."

"I didn't expect..."

"You did expect, man," Quil interrupted pointedly. "I get it though. Hell, for a while I even thought things might be able to stay the same, too, but...shit happened. Some of us changed, dude. I mean, you know about Paul and Rachel. Leah's been around a lot more than she used to be. And, well...there's the whole Em and Bella thing."

For a moment and by some miracle, I'd forgotten, lost in my thoughts and silent predictions on what lay ahead of me and what I was about to face as a member of my pack. But with Quil's single mention, the memories – the reminders – assaulted my senses.

"You love him now."

"Yeah, Jacob – I do."

I almost stumbled, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to calm the sudden storm in my stomach.

I swallowed thickly before I forced my eyes open and made myself say the words, despite how the rest of me pushed back. I wasn't entirely sure I was ready to hear the answer to my next question.

"How did it happen, Quil?"

Quil was silent next to me and for a second, I wasn't sure he was going to give me a response. "Honestly?" he finally spoke. "Most of us didn't know until after it already did, but once we found out, it was a hell of a lot easier to go back and think about it." He glanced at me skeptically and buried his hands further in his pockets. "He just got her, man. It's hard to explain. He kept her moving, kinda the same way he keeps everything else moving around him."

"So he put her back together this time." The situation sounded awfully familiar.

"I don't know about that," Quil murmured, his tone skeptical. "He helped, but I think Bella did a lot of it on her own this time. She's stronger than she was back when the leech left her. This time, she kinda already knew what it took to get back on her feet. Em was just always standing behind her in case she second-guessed herself and needed a little push."

I let Quil's words sink in, and each one did little to ease the distant gnawing in my stomach. He didn't need to say much more because he was simply confirming what I already knew. Bella had changed, and the change was how she healed this time.

When Cullen left her, it was me who built her back up.

This time, though, it was Bella who built herself back up.

Regardless, I'd left my mark, and I had a hard time believing it wasn't still there.

"Quil, I'm trying to make this right with everyone, Bella included," I muttered. "I can handle the changes. I can handle Paul imprinting on my sister, and I can handle all of you being pissed at me. I can handle Embry hating me, but I'm not sure I can handle Bella not being a part of my life."

Quil's breath caught hesitantly in his throat. "How'd you handle it for the last four months?"

"I didn't handle it," I replied, the words barely audible.

"Well, dude, while you were out not handling it, we were so you should think about that," Quil ventured. "Everyone kept on moving while you were still trying to figure out the day-to-day stuff. And like I said, things changed."

"I know things changed, Quil," I retorted, clenching my fists at my sides as I walked, "but I just want her to remember. She needs to know she still has options. I want her to see what I fought for the first time, that even though I fucked up I still love her. I want her to know that's never changed."

I tried to ignore Quil's heavy sigh from beside me. "I think you should let it go, Jake. What Bella and Em have isn't something he's just gonna let go, trust me. It's deep, man. It's deep and he'll fight for it, too. I know he will."

"I don't know if I can." My words were almost a whisper.

One look at Quil revealed his dejected expression as he chewed nervously on his bottom lip. He released it quickly when he saw me watching him and let his eyes fall to the ground before he continued.

"Then I'll tell you the same thing I told Em back when I first found out about him and Bella – this kind of shit can tear a pack apart, Jake. You could tear Embry apart and the worst part is I think he knows that." This time, Quil allowed his eyes to catch my intense stare. "He'll fight but…he shouldn't have to. But he will because he knows you. I know you, and we both know how fucking stubborn you are. We both know you're serious when you say you'll fight and...I mean, are you really prepared to do that, man?

"Does he love her, Q?" The words burned like acid on my tongue.

Quil took several long seconds to respond. "Yeah, man. He does."

My lips parted as I sucked in a calming breath, the words still somehow managed to pierce through my chest. "And did he ever once think about what could happen if he did? Embry knew how I felt about her."

"I don't think the bro code applies when you disappear into thin air, man, especially when you tell the girl to be happy," Quil said quietly, a gentle but not-so-subtle reminder to me before he let out a throaty chuckle, almost like he was trying to lighten the mood. "But for real, dude. This is us we're talking about here – you, Em, and me. Three legs of the tripod, remember? Are you really gonna make a big deal out of this? Are you really going to break the fucking tripod for a girl?" His laugh was jovial, but I could hear the plea behind it.

He wasn't joking.

He really was hoping that wasn't what I planned to do.

But was it? Fighting to make Bella see what we had – what she could still have – was one thing. Going to war with one of my best friends was something completely different. Was I actually intending to do that in order to make Bella see what I did? That even though I left, even though things changed, it was me who was supposed to love her? That it was me who could love her best?

To some degree, I'd already signed the declaration, and the realization made me taste bile in the back of my throat.

"She's not just some girl, Quil." I swallowed, the words spilling out before I could stop them.

"Yeah, you're probably right," Quil replied, his response resigned and quiet as I spotted the break in the trees ahead. "But this is the last I'm gonna say about it...she's not your girl anymore, dude. You gotta let it go. Bella made her choice...just like you made yours."

The silence hung between us as we reached the tree line. Stepping into the dull, afternoon light filling the clearing, I surveyed the land ahead of us, not losing track of Quil's muffled footsteps now falling several paces behind me. I counted bodies, several of them yards in front of us, heads all turning at the sound of the indistinct noises announcing our presence.

As we approached the group, I let my gaze sweep over the discriminating stares of the pack members already gathered and waiting for us. Sam was standing, his frame stoic and rigid, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Paul and Jared flanked him, lingering a couple steps behind him. Paul had a long stem from something protruding from his teeth, his fingers toying with the end of it. Jared's gaze fell when my eyes met his.

My gaze traveled in front of them to where Seth sat in the tall grass, his legs splayed out haphazardly in front of him. Leaning back on his hands, he offered me a small smile. I nodded in return, my jaw tightening as I let my eyes wander beyond him to the steely stare I could feel boring holes through my skull and the pair of eyes I also knew was doing everything it could to avoid mine.

Embry's face was steady and sullen as he concentrated on the blades of grass in front of him. His chest was barely moving on top of suppressed breaths and his body remained eerily still. I watched his fingers tremble ever so slightly in his lap and I could almost hear him swallow as I continued scrutinizing him.

The longer I regarded him, the more it rocked me. The more the thoughts came back, relentlessly infiltrating my brain despite my best efforts to block them out.

The thoughts were replaced quickly though, the slight boiling at the base of my spine dissipating the longer I watched him.

Something wasn't right with him.

His expression was empty and blank. This wasn't the same Embry who greeted me in Bella's driveway. It wasn't the same one shuddering with the waves of rage passing through his body as he stood in front of me at Sam's house. This one was controlled, even and wasn't giving a thing away.

The outward fight in him appeared to be completely gone.

Leah's irritated scoff interrupted my thoughts before I had a chance to speculate on why Embry looked the way he did, my stare instinctively relocating to her hardened face. She wasn't looking at me though. Her eyes were trained on the person behind me, the one now purposely maintaining his distance.

"Figures you'd be the first one to go running back with your tail between your legs, Ateara," she muttered under her breath.

"Shut up, Leah," Quil retorted petulantly. "I told you I'm not taking sides here – I don't do well at teen angst, thank you very much."

"Says the one with a bigger vagina than me," Leah quipped under her breath, causing muffled chuckles to erupt from behind Sam.

"You know what, Leah..."

"That's enough!" Sam exclaimed, his voice booming through the clearing, causing Quil's mouth to close with a snap and Leah to sneer in Sam's general direction before she leaned back on her hands and rolled her eyes. Quil glowered at her as he plopped down in the grass next to Embry, who barely afforded him a glance. Swallowing anxiously, I peered at Sam out of the corner of my eye.

"This ends. All of it. Today." The tone in Sam's voice proved the topic wasn't up for discussion. As he took in each one of us with his authoritative stare, he confirmed the reason he called us all to the clearing. My breath escaped between clenched teeth as his eyes landed on me, lacking sympathy despite the fact I felt strangely relieved by his words.

"We are not going on like this. It's not going to happen," Sam continued. "I have a pack to think about. One pack, a pack that's all together now. And while I understand how each one of you feels, I don't care. I don't care who thinks they're right or who thinks they're justified in acting the way they do. We're getting past it. We're moving forward as one. Starting today." Sam's jaw was tight and his eyes wide with sincerity as he waited. Once heads started bobbing in subdued acknowledgement, his expression relaxed just slightly.

"I asked you all to come here today for this very reason. I know you're angry, and I know you want answers. That's why Jacob is here." His gaze floated toward me for a brief second. "He's going to give you those answers. He's going to fill in the blanks so we can all move forward from this. So we can put the past behind us and start to focus on our pack's future, for its individual members and as a collective. We're going to be as strong as we once were, if not more. There is no room for outside factors here." Sam paused again, and I didn't miss how his gaze went to Embry before taking its turn on me. "Is that understood?"

This time I watched Embry. He swallowed, nodding again in unison with the others. His expression remained stoic and he had yet to look at me.

I knew why he wouldn't. Embry had a tendency to carry everything on his face, and his eyes would always give him away. I always knew when he was pissed, when he was lying, and anything else he felt even when he was trying to hide it. When you know someone your entire life, they become pretty easy to read after a while.

And he knew it too. He knew one look at me would reveal what was wrong and what was happening beyond me.

With a resigned sigh, I gave up. Ripping my eyes away, I tried to push my own unsettled questions and curiosities from my head.

I needed to because a part of me agreed with what Sam said. A part of me was remembering what I told myself before leaving my house earlier in the day.

I needed to do this. This was one thing I needed to fight for, too.

Duty. Responsibility.

A better pack. A stronger pack.

And he needed to know I was serious, that I wanted to fix things within our pack. He needed to know I had a goal.

"Sam?"

I could feel everyone's eyes burning a hole through me as I opened my mouth to speak, addressing Sam individually. His stern gaze shifted to me and I watched him swallow as he waited for me to finish the second part of my question.

Ignoring the curious stares of our audience, I took a deep breath. "Can I have a moment?" I let out the air I hadn't realized I was holding in my lungs. "Alone?"

Sam's expression was skeptical and for a split second, I didn't think he was going to give me the time I wanted. Blinking once, he finally dipped his head in a curt nod. Bringing his head back up, his gaze swept over the others. "Phase. All of you. Do a quick run along the river. Ten minutes and meet back here."

For several seconds, everyone debated whether or not they should actually listen to Sam. Paul and Jared were the first to turn, Paul shooting his characteristic smirk over his shoulder as he walked away. "Figures. Back for two minutes and the Golden Child's already getting whatever he wants."

My stomach twisted as Jared snickered and the rest of the pack stood, following Paul and Jared, who were already unbuttoning their shorts. I didn't miss it when Leah turned to look at Embry, reaching out and squeezing his arm in a friendly gesture despite the resignation on her face. Turning their backs to me, they followed the rest of the group without so much as a look back.

I closed my eyes and focused on taking deep, even breaths.

It will get better. When they see you're serious, it will get better.

You can handle this.

When I opened them, Sam was staring at me expectantly, his arms crossed rigidly in front of him. He raised both eyebrows, waiting for me to speak. I held off, making sure I could hear the distant chorus of barks and yelps as numerous sets of heavy paws took off to the north. I heaved one last deep breath when I was certain they were all gone.

"What's on your mind, Jacob?"

I let out a sigh and stood firm against the ground, pulling my own arms across my chest. "I wanted to talk to you about something – something I figured out just before I came back."

Sam's brow furrowed curiously. "And what was that?"

I licked my lips anxiously before taking a deep breath and cut off the last traces of nerves firing in my body. If anyone would understand, I knew it would be Sam. "When I left," I finally spoke, "I didn't know what my place was here anymore. I ran because I wasn't sure how to live in this world anymore. But you'll see it when I show you – you'll see why I came back. You'll see how I realized that even though my dad died, I still had a place here. I still had a role to fill here...in this life."

I stopped, taking a second to gauge Sam's reaction. His face betrayed nothing so I pressed on. "I needed to come back and fight for what was mine – what was always mine, with or without my dad. Just because he left us didn't mean my role here changed. It didn't mean I had no family left to fight for, and he'd want me to remember that."

"I agree with you, Jacob," Sam said as I paused, my mouth open slightly awaiting his response. "I think Billy would have wanted you here, too. He would have wanted you to take responsibility for what he left behind. There's no question about that."

"I think you're right," I replied, "and I see that now. I didn't then, but I do now, which is why I feel like I should tell you now before anything else happens – I want to step up. I want to be the leader I was too afraid to be when I left. I want to take my rightful place as Alpha."

Sam started, the words traveling between us and crumbling his purposeful stance. His mouth fell open slightly as his fingers curled into his flesh. "Pardon?"

Letting my breath out in a swift rush, I shook my head. "Not today. Not right this second, Sam – but soon. Once things have settled down, I mean. Once the pack has accepted my reasons for coming back – once they've accepted me back – and once everything is where it needs to be." My gaze flicked downward, away from Sam's leery stare. "It's my responsibility, Sam – to my father, to the tribe, to the pack, and to myself. Not doing this would be disappointing my family's legacy. It would be disappointing my father."

Sam pursed his lips and swallowed, taking a step forward. "Jacob, I know I always told you I would never deny you your birthright. It's always been yours to claim. But now? Right now, I don't think it's the best idea."

"I know," I agreed, keeping my gaze level with his, trying to will him to understand. "Which is why I said soon, not now. But it needs to happen. It's my purpose. It always has been, just like this pack. You talked about moving forward as one, as a better version of what we once were. I think if I were to step up, like I should have a long time ago, we can do that. It's the way it's supposed to be, Sam."

This time, Sam released a slight scoff and my head jerked back in surprise. "With all due respect, Jacob, I feel like I need to step in here," Sam retorted, a baffled expression spreading across his features. "You talk about strengthening this pack and moving it forward as one, but you've been dividing it since the day you came back to La Push."

"Sam, I've been trying to make amends," I responded, my fingernails digging into my biceps. "I don't want to tear the pack apart. I want to make amends, and then I want to complete it."

"Jacob, I think you're forgetting a key part in this – the person you've always put before this pack and continue to put before this pack today," Sam ventured carefully.

Blinking toward Sam, I narrowed my eyes slightly. Bella had always been and continued to be one of the most important facets of my life, but to hear Sam say I put her before the pack – not just sometimes but always – stung, almost like he'd slapped me across the face with his words.

"This isn't about Bella, Sam – and you know that's not true."

"It is, Jacob – it is about Bella." Sam took another step forward, his eyes widening as if urging me to listen carefully. "You say you want to be a leader. You say you came back because you didn't want to disappoint Billy. I understand that, but think about what you've done since you got back. Lines have been drawn. Sides have been chosen, and there's only one reason for that."

"What are you getting at, Sam?" The words were quiet as I pushed them through almost clenched teeth.

Sam took a deep, resolute breath. "You've always been narrow-minded when it comes to Bella Swan, Jacob. When she's in front of you, you've never seen anything but her. Your family and your pack cease to exist."

"You're wrong."

"I'm not," Sam retorted, quickly and pointedly. "And if what you say is true – if you're serious about your reasons for returning and wanting to become Alpha – you should be using this time, this time of making amends, to prove to your brothers what a good leader is. You should be proving it to them now."

"I'm trying, Sam," I whispered, the words just loud enough to not get lost in the space between us.

"You are, but you must try harder," Sam replied. "If this is really what you want, you have to remember that good leaders make sacrifices. And when it comes to being Alpha, when it comes to looking after your pack, Jacob, bloodlines and bonds are more important than anything - your family is more important than desire, than selfish wants."

I took a deep, ragged breath. I knew exactly what Sam was telling me. Still, I asked him. "What's your point, Sam?"

Sam sighed. "My point is simple, Jake. You still aren't putting your family first. You are deliberately and knowingly threatening to destroy the happiness of one of your brothers, to take away a future he rightfully earned because of the choice you made."

Closing my eyes, I shook my head. "You don't understand. I need Bella, Sam. She has a role in this too. She's a part of me. She's that last piece of my soul. She's one of the reasons I came back and I can't do this without her."

Sam's brow furrowed slightly and his head dipped in resigned acknowledgement. "I understand, Jacob, I do. At one point in your life, I may have agreed with you. I may have told you that were true. But when you left? While your soul may not have changed, perhaps Bella's did." Sam's words fell short, his face soft, understanding. Certain.

Like he was giving an indirect blessing to the very thing that had been turning me inside out since I got home.

"I'm asking you to stop for a moment and consider the fact that Bella might have a different role now," Sam pressed on quietly. "Because of the path you chose, perhaps she completes someone else's soul and she is where she should be. Perhaps it's all as it should be now." Sam took a deep breath. "And I think you need to learn how to do this without her."

Sam's words tore at my insides and I felt the acid rising in my throat as my stomach churned violently. It was glaringly obvious I didn't have his support and that he wasn't seeing things the same way I was. While I understood where he was coming from, it still wasn't enough to make me falter, to make me back down.

"I don't buy that, Sam. I don't believe it. I know Bella and I know myself and..."

"Jacob," Sam interrupted, holding his hand up in a placating gesture. "The fact you can't even acknowledge what you're doing is enough to validate everything I'm saying. The best time to be taking those blinders off would be now, Jacob. Take them off so you can see the pieces you left behind, so you can see how Bella and Embry took two of those pieces – themselves – and put them back together. Then see how you're threatening to rip them apart all over again."

I shook my head as Sam pulled his arms back across his chest. "You're doing this in the name of your father, in the name of your family's legacy," he continued. "You say you don't want to disappoint him, Jacob, but this? This isn't fighting for your family. This would disappoint him. So until you stop, until you realize your family – your duty to your pack – is the most important thing in your life and until you accept that responsibility and put everything else away, I will not step aside. I won't even consider it until you prove it to me and prove it to the pack."

The word burned, spreading through my veins like wildfire until they settled in my spine.

Disappoint.

Disappoint my father.

The fire tingled as I fought every instinct inside me to push back, to prove to him he was wrong, to claim what was mine without asking for his permission.

Sam was unfazed by my reaction, by the tremors rolling off my limbs. His face was stern as he swept his gaze over my faltering steadfastness. "Is that understood?"

Swallowing the flames in my throat, I closed my eyes and concentrated. I counted silently to myself, pushing back the blaze, knowing this course would get me nowhere. This course would for sure prove everything he was saying.

Not yet. Not now. Stick with the plan.

Everything was not settled. Everyone was not where they should be.

So I put a tight lid on my aggression and forced myself to nod. "Understood."

Sam nodded curtly, the same time we both heard a chorus of howls approaching from the north. "Remember what I said, Jacob. Family is most important, and good leaders make sacrifices."

With that, Sam turned, shedding his cut-offs before he crouched low to the ground. He launched into the air, unfurling as his body shifted in a split second. Before I could blink, the ebony wolf stood tall and straight, his nose pointed to the southern tree line, awaiting his pack.

I stayed on two legs, focusing on my breaths. In and out. One, two, three. Calming myself before everyone got there.

No matter how much I disagreed, something in what Sam said was resonating. His words were pounding away at a resolve I refused to let go.

My pulse pounded in my ears as five bodies emerged from the tree line. Together, they were jovial, in a good mood they didn't allow me to see when I was in front of them. Leah threw an arm around Seth and messed up his hair the same time Quil's mouth moved, earning him a rough shove by a laughing Paul.

Family.

Sacrifices.

I couldn't help the slight smile that pulled at my lips, despite the fact that even as they drew closer to me, the lightheartedness faded gradually, little by little, from their own expressions. They reined it in completely when they saw me, when they saw Sam waiting. Gazes fell to the ground and hands were absentmindedly shoved in pockets.

My eyes passed along each one of them until they reached the end, until they sought out the last person now just several feet from me as he strode closer to where I stood.

This time he slipped. This time he was already looking at me, too.

And Sam's words still resonated. A different word.

Bella.

Bella.

That was all it took. One look and I saw it in his face. The anger, the worry, the silent plea for me to understand everything despite the fact he hadn't heard a single word Sam said.

His eyes were crying out without his knowledge, begging me to release my hold on a world that quite possibly was already starting to slip through his fingers.

As Embry reached the place I stood, I could make out the sound of his breath being pulled through his lips. The uneasy energy radiating off him was palpable as he quickly let out the breath, his pulse faltering for just a moment as he passed.

"She sent you away, didn't she?"

His footsteps stopped just past me, his breath hitching slightly at my words. I could hear him swallow before he spoke. "That would definitely make things easier on you, wouldn't it?"

His reply all but confirmed my suspicions, and the slight hint of challenge in his voice grated at my nerves, instantly overshadowing everything Sam said to me minutes earlier. It was overpowered by a glimmer of hope as it flashed through my body and wrapped itself around my insides, soothing and extinguishing the fire. Fueling my confidence.

Maybe Bella already made her choice. Maybe Sam's words were null and void.

"I'm not done fighting for her, Jake," Embry murmured, just loud enough to confirm what I already knew.

A shiver of anticipation crawled down my arms. "I didn't expect you to be," I replied briskly. "But neither am I."

I heard his body shift as he moved his weight from one leg to the other. "Figured that much, too," he said, sucking in another deep breath. "The difference is though you and I are fighting for two completely different things. You just don't see it."

I could feel the heat back at the base of my spine as my fists clenched at my sides. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Nothing, man," Embry murmured. "You'll figure it out eventually."

I felt his presence retreat, his footsteps dissipating with each stride he took away from me to rejoin the rest of the pack.

The simmer in my veins was back, but this time it was subdued. No more games. No more low blows. I knew what I needed to do.

And Sam was wrong.

I wasn't sacrificing this. Not yet. Not like this. Not because someone I'd known all my life thought he was the better man. Bella was part of my soul.

And Sam didn't know a god damn thing about making sacrifices.

He didn't understand. Giving up what Bella and I had would mean giving up a part of myself.

And that wasn't a sacrifice I was willing to make.


AN: Hope everyone enjoyed this little glimpse into Jake's head. Thoughts on his take on things? Where he's at? Can't wait to hear them!

Also, a HUGE hello to all the new readers I've gained in the past week or so. A big thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed up to this point. I apologize for the wait on this chapter, but things are getting intricate in this story now. Have to make sure everything's just right before I put it out there! :) I heart you all and adore you for your patience.

Finally, the Fandom Choice Awards – have you guys sent in your nominations yet? The link is on my profile page. The contest is being hosted by my girls over at Tricky Raven and I really want to help the first year be a huge success for them! So go show your favorite Twilight writers, artists, readers, betas, etc. some love! :D