A/N: My apologies to everyone. For some reason I couldn't edit anything on Saturday night...and you really don't want to see these chapters unedited. I'm very sorry about the delay and any confusion I caused last chapter. That should teach me not to put thoughts into these author's notes. Anyway, we'll see if I can't post another chapter Thursday to make it up to you.

˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅

Chapter 38

˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅

"Why is there a Porsche in the driveway?"

I looked up from my book to find Seth in the midst of the werewolf migratory route—from his bed to the fridge. It was about time he woke up, even though I hadn't heard him come downstairs. Frank had challenged me to read all of Notes From Underground. For every bodily complaint, he had promised me a kiss. It was such a ridiculously easy challenge I was reading the book in the original Russian—and we were still going to be very busy next time we went out.

That moment, I just explained to Seth what was going on. "Jacob's going to teach me to drive today. He brought the Porsche over here this morning. We're going to go the second the two of them come downstairs."

"You don't already know how to drive?" I shrugged and Seth asked, "They just left you?"

"Leah was eating ice cream in bed to celebrate dumping her boyfriend and Jacob went upstairs to convince her it was pathetic," I said. "Seth?"

He looked up from his careful sandwich preparation. Even though I found it distasteful, you had to give the werewolves credit for the effort they put into their food. "Yeah?"

"Halloween's next week." It was an anniversary that made me cringe. One year since Leah had tried to stay away from us and I was a little bit scared it was going to happen again. The longer I was back, the sadder she seemed to get. "Are they—I don't know what I'm asking, really. I just—they've been sort of strange lately. Do you know why?"

"When aren't they weird? I don't know. Probably just arguing about what to get Will for his birthday."

Jacob's nephew was turning one in a few days (three days, I think, but I would have to ask to be sure) but that didn't make much sense. "They're upset at each other over baby toys? That seems absurd."

"Then ask Jacob," Seth said. Somehow it was still obvious that his annoyance wasn't at me—maybe it was the way he managed to make Jacob's name sound like it had three syllables. "By the way, I don't recommend hitting people with the car."

"Thanks for the advice," I called after him as he left the kitchen.

The Cyrillic alphabet failed to be as engrossing as before. I could no longer distract myself from the fear that I was going to have to watch them fall apart all over again. Maybe I was nervous for no reason, but I still cast my mind about, searching for ways to prevent the inevitable train wreck.

I had come up with nothing when they both came down. They looked cheerful this morning—they should. They had been upstairs almost forty-five minutes. It was Leah who asked, "You ready for this, kid?"

"Of course. Though I don't understand what the big deal is. So what if I can drive?"

That snapped Jacob out of his mood. His eyes widened in horror at my declaration and he responded as if I had temporarily gone insane.

"It's only the single greatest freedom a person can have. With a license you can go anywhere, do anything, see everything—"

"The only place I can go without supervision is here. My family can drive me most of the way and I don't mind the walk. Really, Jacob, you're making this a big deal when it's not. It's just driving."

The face Jacob made was quite impressive, worse than my mother's when someone spoke against my father or me. It was so impressive it got Leah laughing. Jacob glared and muttered, "Shut up," in her direction.

"I think you broke his heart," she chided me, still laughing.

"You could be a little less delighted," he complained.

"Maybe this way she'll give you the car."

His face lit up, even though she was joking and he knew it. He couldn't help the reflexive action. All he said was, "I'll settle for just driving it. You ready to start, Nessie?"

"Sure. I'm staying for dinner, right?" I asked Leah.

"If you remember to pick it up on the way back," she agreed. "Don't get back too early, though. I have to go visit Rachel today and if I survive the experience I want to have food waiting for me when I get back."

"We'll wait for you," I promised, following Jacob out the door. As I hurried to catch up to him, I asked, "So how are we starting?"

"I'm going to back the car onto the street. You stay here."

I did as I was told. This was far too important to Jacob for me to fight him. Stupid cars were his world, as precious to him as my books were to me. I might even be able to rustle up some enthusiasm if I worked hard enough.

Jacob got out and waved me over. The unfortunate consequence of having him drive first was that the seat was so far back I could have probably slept comfortably in the space between the seat and the pedals. I had never given much thought about the height difference between us, but now I couldn't help thinking that I was always going to come across as a daughter, not an equal. No matter how many years passed, he would look older and stand a foot taller. I moved the seat into place.

"Okay, first up," he began, "This is the steering wheel."

"You have got to be kidding me."

He gave me his infectious Jacob-grin and I giggled, a little. Even though he probably thought this was the most important moment of my life, it was nice to see that Jacob could still make a joke. I half-listened as he went on to talk about the proper procedure. He was good at giving instructions, Jacob, certain but not pompous about it. This was what he knew well and he was delighted to be able to share it with me. "Ready?" he asked.

"Ready."

Press down on the brakes, turn the key, listen to the engine rumble to life then listen as Jacob waxed poetic about the sound of an engine for a good long while—all these steps I performed admirably. Now came the hard part. Getting the car to move.

"Gently, gently," Jacob urged.

I did the opposite, moving my foot from the brake to the gas pedal too quickly, jerking the car into motion. Faking panic, I switched back to the brake, then turned to listen to Jacob reprimand me. All he did was sigh.

"You already know how to do this, don't you?"

"What? No." He glared and I amended, "Not really."

"I don't believe this. Who taught you?" I opened my mouth, but he cut off the lie before it even came out. "You taught yourself, didn't you?"

Since he seemed determined to do this to himself, I said honestly, "I figured it out by the time I was two. I'm sorry, Jacob. You can still go through the basics with me. Rosalie seemed to like that."

"You played dumb for Rosalie, too? At least I wasn't the only dupe."

"And you figured it out much faster than she did. I'm very sorry, Jacob. I didn't mean to ruin this for you."

He burst out laughing. "Nessie, I don't care. There's no point in me teaching you something you already know. Come on, since you can already do this, let's go for a ride. Let's go to Forks for ice cream or something."

I didn't point out that it would spoil our dinner, for it wouldn't spoil Jacob's at all. Instead, I said, "Do you want to go in and get Leah?"

"She can't cancel on Rachel again. Besides," he said with a bit of an evil grin, "We couldn't take the Porsche. So, do you need directions or do you have that memorized too?"

"That was a rhetorical question, right?" I asked as I began driving down the street. The streets of La Push and Forks were as much a part of me as the names of my relatives. I couldn't not know where I was at all times. Maybe it was my family's paranoia, but it was paying off just now.

We drove mostly in silence, Jacob occasionally teasing me about going exactly two miles over the speed limit, but for the most part saying nothing at all. There was simply too much to talk about. Jacob and I had not been alone together since I got back (since I found out the last conscious wish he had ever made was to kill me) and there were a few things I wanted to say to him. But it would be better to have the conversation face to face, not with me behind the wheel of a car, so I concentrated on getting us to the ice cream parlor safely.

Since it was almost November and Forks was never the warmest town to begin with, the place was relatively empty. We were the only ones outside, Jacob licking his cone, me picking at the sundae we both knew he would end up eating. Watching the strawberry sauce drip down the vanilla ice cream, I asked, "Why is Leah going to see your sister?"

"Because she's a masochist."

"What?"

"Just a...never mind. They used to be friends, you know. I guess they still are and Will's birthday needs planning...and Leah won't pass up the opportunity to show Paul how much better she is at something than he could ever be."

"You don't like her getting mad at Paul?"

"If I could afford it, I would pay people to get mad at Paul on a daily basis." Jacob studied me for a second and then—because he wanted to talk to somebody and I was the only one there—he said, "I think Leah actually likes Paul better than Rachel, now."

"I don't follow."

"Paul just got lucky. But Rachel...she followed the plan. Not all of it, but then again, not even Sam got out. But Rachel got the guy and the house and the kid and—Leah says she's happy with what we're doing, but it's just work and she deserves to have more than just..."

"Having to be second best all the time?"

His head snapped up, a little startled. Even though we both knew it's not what I meant, I offered, "Because a woman can't be Chief, right?"

"Yeah." The word came out like it was bitter on his tongue. In a way, it was all his fault, even though he hadn't asked for it. Or maybe he had. "Yeah."

He continued, "And it doesn't help that Sue just won't shut up. Just because she's bored up in Forks doesn't mean her kids have to produce grandchildren just to amuse her. But what does she care? But I guess, from her point of view...did you know by the time she was Leah's age, she'd already had Seth?"

"I didn't know that about Sue." I should have, I realized. It was basic math, to figure out how old Sue had been when her children had been born, but I had never bothered to do the figures. How thoughtless. I did them now.

"Sue was younger than you when she had Leah?"

Grateful for the slight change in topic, Jacob began to babble, "She had Leah a few years after she started working. But they'd been engaged a long time. There's a story...no one's ever had the guts to ask Sue if it's true or not, but even Dad used to say that Sue got her college acceptance letter and marched right on up to Harry and informed him they were going to get married when she graduated. And Harry said 'okay' and that was that. Leah was going to do that, too, probably, except Sam became a werewolf, messed everything up."

Since I had started doing the basic math, I couldn't seem to stop. It was too easy for me to recall the card from the funeral home that sat on the Clearwater's mantelpiece, the one that stated the span of Harry Clearwater's too brief life. That would have made the gap between him and Sue...seven to eight years. And she had been young, only a few years older than me, but probably not much more.

Jacob was still talking, "She's just having a bad week and I don't know how to fix it."

Did I?

I couldn't—no. I didn't have a solution. I couldn't. Not until I was exactly sure of the problem.

"Jacob? There's something I wanted to ask you. Or tell you, I suppose. I'm not sure which it is, actually, but if you don't mind...?"

"Whatever you want, Nessie."

"It's about Seth."

"He can't help being that annoying. It's just the way he is."

"Not funny, as usual. Anyway," I said, taking a deep breath, "Ever since I got back I've started to notice there's something a little different about Seth."

"And?"

As difficult as the double entendre had been for me to master, hanging around the werewolves (and Emmett) this long had taught me a thing or two. There was a very obvious way in which my words could be misconstrued, especially when combined with how nervous I was. It helped that both meanings were at least partially true.

Jacob didn't care.

There was no flicker of jealousy, no sign of suspicion, not even a hint of annoyance on his face. Either he trusted me that much, simply didn't care, or was too willing to go along with whatever I desired. None of my options seemed very appealing.

I wanted to scream at him. All I did was explain:

"At first I thought I was imagining it. After all, it's Seth. There are certain things one should not associate with Seth and this was one of them. And yet...I can't deny it anymore." Still nothing, just boredom. I got to the point. "Seth's angry. Furious, even. And I'm positive it's at you."

That got his attention.

"What?"

Jacob looked far too guilty to try and deny it, so all I did was continue to explain my thought process.

"He used to talk about you the way I did—only worse. But now...he's not always complimentary. Sometimes he's out and out critical. He's not always polite, he makes snide comments—I can sometimes literally see him restraining himself from insulting you. He's angry with you."

"I did take over his house."

"That's what I thought, at first. That it was a territory dispute. None of the other wolves live as close as you. There must have been a reason that the Clearwaters are the only siblings that both phased...maybe it was to prevent you from living too close together. So I looked at your charts."

Seth went to Carlisle once every two months for tests, so my grandfather could try and discover more about the werewolves. Jacob went whenever I asked him (and he didn't have good excuse to get out of it). Most of the others had been in at least once, though Carlisle's records on the only female of the species remained conspicuously absent. Still, the werewolves were remarkable biological creatures.

The amount of testosterone in their blood alone should have stuck them dead (or at least signaled the presence of a devastating, inoperable tumor), but it hadn't. Looking at the numbers, it was hard not to feel sympathetic towards Leah for having to live in a house with both of them.

"There was nothing to suggest that Seth's response towards you was biologic. No fluctuations or sudden changes or unexplained phenomena. And if he was upset with you, than he was only doing it passively. You hadn't done anything to earn an out and out attack."

Without asking, Jacob took my sundae and began eating it, trying to ignore what I was saying. The syrup had already melted mostly into the ice cream, but he didn't seem to notice the taste at all.

"Then I realized, Seth would never be mad at you for something you had done to him. He's not that sort of person." Not normal at all. "And he's always admired you so much...it's hard to think of anyone in the world he loves more than you. Even Edward might not beat you."

"He wouldn't." I looked at Jacob questioningly, so he explained, briefly, "If it came down to it, it would be me over Edward. I'm his brother. If he had to pick, it would be me. He'd hate to do it, but...I'm family."

If I hadn't been sure I was onto something before, the way he choked a little on the last word confirmed it. Even if I thought he was wrong. Tribe loyalty hadn't stopped Seth from helping my family when it was the right thing to do. It wasn't that important, so I continued.

"Probably the only two people on the planet he cares about more than you are his mother and his sister. Now, you did sort of try and replace Sue, but I'm sure that was actually more Leah's fault and Seth wouldn't hold you responsible for something that wasn't your doing. So that leaves Leah." I studied Jacob carefully as I said, "It's enough to make me think you did something to her, only she doesn't seem angry with you. Angry at the world, yes, but not angry with you, not really."

"Leah's always been an idiot." Jacob continued to stab at the sundae. "You seem to have this all figured out. You tell me."

Fine.

"That house and kid and life that she wants...she wants it with you. Leah's in love with you, isn't she?"

We sat in silence for a long while. There was no one else around to tell us to go away and Jacob needed a moment to recover. I wasn't a child, making wild accusations out of jealousy. This time I had the facts to back up my theory. I was sure—and that changed the rules completely. No wonder he wasn't sure how to respond.

"You'd have to ask her," he muttered eventually.

I didn't have to. It might not have been true, but it was certainly what Jacob, and even Seth, believed. The guilt that covered Jacob's face said as much. Every part of him thought I was right, thought she was in love with him. And he hated himself for that, just a little bit.

"Are you in love with her?"

Would it hurt me if he said yes? I knew part of me would rejoice in discovering I was right, since I always liked having knowledge confirmed, and an even bigger part of me would be delighted to finally have them together, properly, like they belonged. But was there a part of me—however tiny, however long forgotten—that wanted Jacob for myself?

As I waited, half holding my breath, I was surprised to find there was. A miniscule part of me was hurt. I was too used to expecting him to love me to forget him easily. Having him leave me was unthinkable. But I could let him love her, if that's what he wanted. I could recover from that. Couldn't I?

"No."

Liar.

"Jacob, it's okay if you do."

"Listen," he growled, "I don't care what your mother's taught you, but you don't hurt the people you love. It's not love if all you can do is make someone miserable. Okay?"

To prove he was wrong—to show him that love made endure terrible agony, even if I would have been happy not to have been born at all if it meant she could have been spared all that—I reached out my hand and placed it on his arm. I would show him what I had seen.

It didn't go quite the way I expected.

Leah, beautiful as always, screaming as always, your fault as always, saying things like love and family and coward and please that are supposed to hurt but don't because they mean less coming from her because that's the rule. Her teeth snap together once she finishes, because she understands it's not a lie if no one ever believed it in the first place, even though you can see the beauty in the dream she paints with her words and hands and smile. Double dog dare you she mutters even though beta's aren't supposed to beg and she will always be your right side now even though it might just kill you both. There's always the split second where your arms go out, where she steps closer, where the challenge is all that matters because you've always liked challenges and then suddenly the words come out because the truth doesn't set you free it just keeps you in place as you run your laps like a good boy.

I. Will. Leave. You.

Teeth and claws and more than two hundred pounds of muscle and you only ever killed vampires but somehow it just takes four words to break Leah Clearwater. It isn't reasonable for her to ask because you've already fulfilled your share of impossible deeds and it's not in you to want to do that anymore, even if there are tears in her eyes and it is a beautiful dream. Alpha's aren't supposed to beg. Maybe it was Sam's rule or maybe it was always that way because before the monsters had mansions things were harder for everyone. But that doesn't matter because you can't give away what isn't yours any more, you only tricked yourself when you thought it was yours in the first place, and Leah's never going to understand that but you beg her to try anyway because at least if you're selfish you're still pretty sure you're you.

Leah never liked forgiveness and she hates justice even more. Her rule is a very simple one and it makes you want to laugh (or cry or both) when you think of how Nessie would like it, in that it vaguely makes you think of physics, Leah's unfounded belief that there is only so much misery in the world so that if she spreads it indiscriminately to everyone she meets than eventually she'll stop feeling like she's been the fool for believing in a fantasy this whole time. She probably won't hurt Nessie, but you're can't help being aware of how she delights in knowing how much she's hurting you, refusing to let you share the only thing you can give her anymore, as if it could possibly make up for the way you keep taking.

"Nessie?"

I glanced at Jacob, removing my hand. He looked puzzled, but unaware—unaware what? I wasn't even sure what I had done. Shaking my head, I forced out the words: "I want to drive some more. I'm tired of Forks."

Being so close to the blistering werewolf had melted the sundae into a gruesome pink liquid that looked the opposite of appealing. Jacob didn't even look at it as he stood up and threw it out. Walking towards the exit, he made sure to hold the door for me as we left.

˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅

TBC...