i found my truth letting go / and i've never felt so alone in one unending moment
SYML, "Everything All At Once"

fourteen.

(Jacob)

A thousand years of instinct gifted from Taha Aki himself tells Jacob he should not leave Leah.

He goes anyway.

Every step is painful. And by the time he is within the cover of the trees, out of her sight, he is all but crawling over the deep track marks Quil has left behind. It is only because Leah has told him to go that he's managed this far, but knowing that she is hurt and in pain — by his hand, no less — has the wolf inside yowling to go back to her, to get on his knees and beg her forgiveness.

And Leah would — she would forgive him for what has just happened. Already she has been affected by the imprint. Is being affected by the imprint. Jacob is as certain of this as his hands are when they build engines, when they replace the timing belt in the Rabbit. It would take a man stripped of all his senses to not notice the difference in her.

As if it's not bad enough that his whole life has been upended by the imprint, has to be ruled by it, but for Leah . . .

Maybe she'll find herself easily forgiving him for pushing her, bruising her . . . (Shit, Emily has forgiven Sam for worse.) But once Leah finds out why that is, why it is that she can't blame Jacob for what he did . . . She won't forgive him for changing her. That's something else entirely.

She's something else entirely.

Different from Emily and Kim. Everyone who knows them is entirely aware that Kim worships the ground Jared walks upon, while Emily would walk through fire and earn new scars without hesitation if it meant she could spend one more day with Sam. They have both accepted their fate. Welcomed it, even.

Leah, however.

No. Jacob can't even comprehend telling her. Not yet. Not ever. If the imprint means that he now solely exists to protect her from harm, if it means that he will always do right by her, then he cannot tell her. He won't.

Jacob sinks closer to the ground. He doesn't move again. Even the sound of Quil howling half a mile away fails to stir his wolf, not when it knows that Leah is closer.

(He decides there and then, sprawled face down in the dirt, that he will never roll his eyes at Sam and the Alpha's dramatics ever again.)

Less than a few days ago he was dancing along a dangerous line, that point of no return. Now he's blown right past it, leaving it for dust. He tries to think about when exactly that happened: was it when he'd held her whilst she cried, or was it watching helplessly as someone else wrapped his arms around her?

Perhaps it was her screaming half an hour ago. Not because she was scared of Quil or because she'd been hurt, but because she believed he was going to be. Even if Leah hadn't understood it, even if she hadn't figured it out yet, the fear she'd felt had been for him. For the soulmate she didn't know existed.

It might even have been Jacob wrapping his arms around her after Quil's first disastrous phase, pulling her close if only because he knew that following his newest brother meant that the world was going to learn the truth. That Sam is going to learn the truth. That Sam is going to kill him.

It's pure luck, not skill, that Sam hasn't found out so far. That Seth hadn't found out. The kid had been too wrapped up in learning everything, seeing everything for the first time to pick up on a thing. Dumb luck — that's what it was. Jacob knows he won't get away with it again; he's not strong enough, not clever enough. The moment he phases, they're all going to know.

He's so tired of fighting it. So tired.

And so it's almost a welcome relief when Sam's sudden piercing howl stretches for miles and miles. Almost. Except . . . it's a summons — an order. The kind that will leave Sam with a throbbing headache for an hour afterwards, what with the effort it takes to demand such things from somebody who was not born to follow. Sam's order is for him, and for him alone. He is calling for him. Jake can feel it in every fibre of his being as the fire begins to burn inside of him without permission, the fire an Alpha can invoke if they so wish it.

Does Sam know?

The idea terrifies Jacob. This is exactly what he has been trying to avoid. He wants to do this on his own terms. But in avoiding Sam and the pack, especially now that Quil has finally joined them, it's obvious that his efforts haven't gone unnoticed. He's called attention to himself like a fucking homing beacon.

Sam howls again. Orders again.

And when a chorus of low howls fill the air in response, Jacob's is the loudest of them all.

He stretches his massive paws out, the fire still raging in the pit of his stomach from being forced to phase. There are several reasons Jacob hates Sam, and this is one of them: Sam leaves his brothers very little room to make their own choices, to remember their freewill. Jacob would have quite easily laid in the dirt for another hour had he been given the chance.

By all means, Sam begins, the tone of his mental voice clanging through Jacob's head, if you think you can do better, Jacob, you are free to make that choice.

The suggestion settles heavily over the pack's shared mind, and the wolves hold their breath.

Jacob merely snorts, his breath visible before him. The day he becomes an Alpha is the day that hell freezes, the day the world spins west. And they all know it — but still, sometimes, his brothers tense. They scent the challenge in the air and they wait to see if the gauntlet will be collected.

Do you think you can do better, Jacob? Sam asks. His thoughts are laced with a quiet, simmering rage as he furiously stalks the banks of Hoko River, flanked by Jared and Paul who were on patrol when Quil phased. They are closer to Neah Bay than they are La Push — and, Jacob thinks, deep enough into their territory that Sam can risk decimating the forest around him should that rage boil over.

It is an effort for Jacob to hold his position and not rise to the challenge. It would take less than ten minutes to meet Sam head-on, and even far less than that to be rebuffed by the wolves who would come between them in defence of their Alpha.

Jake holds firm, because he suddenly realises exactly what Sam's anger is about: Quil. Not Leah.

(He clamps down on that thought as quickly as it comes.)

Quil. And now Sam is looking for a fight, feeling the sudden need to battle his most difficult brother into submission.

Jacob bristles.

Quil deserved to know, he shoots back by way of an answer. And, sure enough, as if in response, Quil's fearful train of thought is heard, the feeling behind it snaking along Jacob's spine. Embry is with him, the first to reach the edges of the reservation before their friend had managed to cross the boundary line. But Jacob doesn't dare acknowledge them — not yet. Just as they do not dare acknowledge him.

Sam snarls from the river. Jacob doesn't hear it, but he can feel it — he feels it within his chest as if the emotion is his own. That was not your call to make.

I didn't make the call.

You didn't stop her, Sam snarls back, picking through Jacob's memories now that they have risen to the surface and are on display for the whole pack. Exactly as Sam wanted. And the Alpha is not alone as he watches the scenes play out: Leah making her decision, Jacob following, the drive over to Quil's—

Quil rearing back, Jacob's panic, Leah falling, screaming, yelling—

Every single one of Jacob's brothers cower as Sam's snarl reverberates through both their minds and the forest around them, feeling it as if they are all at their Alpha's side rather than miles away. Embry, Quil, Jared, Paul. Only Seth is unaware, still in his bedroom and safely asleep for all they know.

You hurt her.

Jacob pushes the crippling guilt away and stands tall. Nobody can see him, but that does not matter. I protected her.

What right do you have—

Then Sam sees it. Hears it. Everything. Every thought, memory, and feeling of Jacob's which has been encouraged by that half sentence. There is no use in fighting in, no point in trying to deny it any longer. Jacob cannot lie. He does not want to lie.

So he opens himself up the pack completely, and he does not hold back.

Against the onslaught, he focuses on one memory in particular. The most important one. The one which has plagued him since the day he brought Seth home.

Leah leaps from her seat, her heat thundering a dangerous rhythm. 'I've heard just about everything now.'

'It's true. It happened to Jared, too, and . . . Well, trust me. I've felt—' He can't say it, won't say it. 'I've seen it. You just know.'

'Nope, I changed my mind. That, right there — that is the most disgusting thing I've ever heard,' she rages, and he has to lower his eyes so that he doesn't have to watch the angry colour pool in her cheeks — if only because the beast inside of him wants to watch, wants to bask in the heat of her fire and claim it for its own. Mine, mine, mine—

Sam snarls without end, his mind beyond coherent thought. The tether which ties him to Jacob is strung tight, fraying at either end. It has always been at breaking point between them, their connection fragile, but for the first time Jacob truly thinks it might snap.

He knows the pack would think the same, if they were able. They are frozen in their shock, unable to do nothing except watch through Paul and Jared's eyes as Sam's knees buckle, as the shock threatens to paralyse one of the strongest in their pack. They have been sucked into Sam's trance, a deep whirlpool of agony and fury and panic and sadness.

!

Silent shock. Unfocused confusion, jealousy, outrage.

!

Their Alpha's heart is a thundering mess of being in love with Emily but still loving Leah; of craving Emily to the point of pain every second of every day even though he still misses Leah, too.

When they recover, their thoughts start moving together at the same time Sam's paws move. He is hellbent on closing the distance between him and his new enemy with impossible speed, and Jared and Paul barely remember themselves in time to keep up with him.

Leah!

Leah?

Leah.

Embry shakes himself free of the vicious loop. Jake. Run, man!

Why should I?! This isn't my fault! I couldn't — Sam, he thinks, pushing everything he has to break through his Alpha's unbroken determination to kill kill kill. He only has a few minutes left. I tried to stay away, you know I did. I didn't want this.

If you die, can I have the Rabbit?

Shut up, Embry.

Jeez, do you ever take anything seriously?

Sam, listen to him.

I didn't choose this! Jacob continues over them.

Dude. How long were you going to keep this a secret from us?

He was never going to tell us!

Seth's gonna freak.

Jake's not even going to tell her. Are you?

Nobody's going to tell her, Jacob growls.

Paul growls from beside Jared, both of them chasing Sam's tail. Nice to know imprinting hasn't made you any less selfish, asshole. It's the leech-lover all over again.

I told Kim after six hours. I couldn't do it.

Nobody cares about you and Kim.

Sam doesn't say a word throughout.

And then there is Quil, quiet and overwhelmed by his different body and the excruciating pain of so many different emotions which do not belong solely to him — and yet still he manages to feel concern. To feel crippled by his guilt for the harsh words he had thrown at Leah.

I'm sorry, he whispers, only now making sense of every single one of Jacob's actions up until this point.

Me, too, Jacob replies.

He does the only thing he can. He braces himself, digging his claws deep into the ground, muscles locking into place, and waits. He was never going to be able to do this on his own terms. He knows now, as he always has, deep down, that this was a battle he was always going to lose. This isn't something he could have escaped forever.

But it's not Leah who he wanted to escape. It's not the imprint. It's Sam. Always Sam. Because fighting Sam . . .

This fight is what Jacob has been trying to escape ever since he phased for the very first time. Ever since that day Sam had beat his ass into next week until his need to dominate, to lead, had been very nearly extinguished. But Sam would never be able to expel it completely, no matter what he did, because Jacob's refusal to become Alpha did not take away from the fact that he had been born for it.

Sam hears all of this, of course.

It does not stop him. It has never stopped him before.

Quil's overriding sense of guilt is the last thing Jacob feels before Sam takes aim and bursts through the trees.