"Look, I'm just going to get straight to it," Leah says, her eyes roving the room before settling on Lex. "I don't really like having you around, but you should stay on the Rez for awhile. We can protect you better here."

Lex narrows her eyes. She's met Leah twice, if that, and yet here she is, basically spitting in her face. For what it's worth, she's never been unkind to Leah - hell, they've never even spoken - so she can't conjure a single defensible reason for why Leah'd be so unfriendly. Sure, Lex's heard the standard lines about Leah's prickliness - boyfriend-stealing cousins, dead father, yada yada yada - but it doesn't explain why she's being straight-up rude for the sheer sake of it.

Lex crosses her arms tightly across her chest, her nails digging into the soft skin at her elbows. Control. "You don't like me? Sorry, Leah, I don't remember asking," she snaps.

Kim exhales sharply. "This is a bad time. Leah, I think you should leave. Now."

"Actually, I think I'll stay. I want to see where this goes," she says, tilting her head as she stares at Lex.

"Do I need to call Jared? Go, and this never happened."

"Never happened? Seriously?" Lex says, eyebrows raised as she turns towards Kim. She spins back to Leah a moment later, frowning. "Please, go on. Tell me exactly what I did to piss you off so bad. I've literally said nothing to you," she huffs, throwing her hands up in frustration.

Leah snorts. "And what, I'm meant to praise you for that? Oh, thank you, Queen Alexandria, for doing the absolute least. You're such a pleasure," she simpers, her voice dripping with thinly-veiled hostility.

"Leah, that's enough. I'm calling him," Kim warns, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at the taller girl.

Leah simply shrugs. "Do it. I mean what I said, Lex. I don't want you here, but you're better off here than in Forks. Take the free advice."

"You really expect me to stay here after everything you just said? I'd get it if Embry were mad at me, but you? I don't even know you!" Her voice is too high, too shrill, too affected. She hates it, almost as much as she's starting to hate Leah.

"If he even had half a fucking brain he would be angry with you, but I don't think he's had a single independent thought in months," Leah growls, her eyes narrowing into threatening little slits.

"Don't you dare talk about him like that," she hisses, her firsts involuntarily balling at her sides.

"Why? Do you really think you get him better than I do? I've known him since we were in diapers. We grew up in the same street, went to the same school, had the same friends our whole freaking lives," she says, counting it out on her fingers. "I know him. I knew him before you even fucking existed around here. You don't get to walk in here like the world revolves around your white ass," she bellows, taking a few steps backwards. Leah's hands are shaking, almost blurring as she speaks, almost as if she's trying to fight the urge to throttle Lex.

The screen door flies open with a crash, almost rocketing off the hinges from the force. Judging by the reverberating bang outside, the metal handle's probably embedded deep into the drywall, but they've got bigger issues to handle. Jared's hulking frame occupies the entire doorway, like a giant eclipsing the sun.

"Clearwater, you better haul ass before Embry hears you're here," he warns, shaking his head. "I don't even know why you came down."

"Someone had to tell her," Leah says, cocking her head towards Lex.

Jared's eyes flicker rapidly between them like he's trying to finagle some complex numbers. "Jesus, what did you say? If you even mentioned -"

"She didn't," Kim cuts in, wrapping her fingers around Jared's trembling wrist.

He calms slightly. "We," he says, cocking his head towards the door, "are going to have a talk, Leah. Outside."

She begrudgingly follows him, though not without one final unfriendly glance in Lex's direction. Everything about Leah screams raw, unbridled power, from her choppy black hair to her ropy muscles. She has the sinewy figure of a tiger, the kind of physique that radiates a kind of primal, domineering energy. From what she's heard, Lex should fear Leah; she should want to avoid the supposedly combative woman. Even so, she can't ignore the simmering curiosity that runs beneath the overtones of anger coursing through her veins. Lex would gladly scratch her eyes out in a heartbeat, but she'd hang around to question her in the aftermath. It's a weird, head-scratching kind of duality. Perhaps she just wants to win over the only person who openly dislikes her, maybe to prove that she can, but there's a tiny part of her that says she's missing something from the whole situation. She has an inkling that there's something that Leah can give that nobody else can, and Lex is pretty sure the answer isn't just high blood pressure.

She only realises she's staring at the now-empty door frame when Kim clears her throat.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realise she'd just show up. I can't even remember the last time she came here."

"It's not your fault," she says, raking a hand through her tangled hair. "I guess I should apologise for almost starting a fight in your living room."

Kim laughs, though her eyes don't crinkle like they normally do. "As if I'd let that happen. Can't have you ruining the furniture," she jokes, but it falls flat.

She's definitely missing something. And the thing about Lex? She always finds out.

Can we talk?

Do you want me to come get you? We can do dinner at mine

Your choice

Just let me know, ok?

Are you mad at me?

Her phone rings virtually the second she sends the message.

"Why would you ask me that?" he asks. His voice is all wrong, too scratchy and low, nothing like the playful banter they'd had just the day before. She hates it.

"What, no hello?" she comments, but he doesn't laugh. It wasn't funny, anyway. "Uh, I was just thinking. It's stupid, really."

"Did someone say something?" He says after a moment. If she knew him better, she'd think he sounded suspicious.

If she knew him better.

Leah's right, of course. She doesn't know him.

"You know what? Just forget it. It was a dumb question."

"No, Lex, don't -"

"I need to go. I'll message you later."

She won't.

Lex ends up begging Kim to drive her back home - her actual home, the one in Forks, not the makeshift home she's claimed in recent weeks. Kim's concerned, but that seems to be her permanent state of late. To her credit, she does attempt to question Lex, asking all of the right stuff, but it's no use. She'd be better spending her time interrogating a rock, but she doesn't seem to be amused when Lex points that out. Nobody's laughing now, she observes, watching the trees flash by. She's ruined everything, of course, turning her safe haven into something uninhabitable in one terrible night. Typical.

The idea that she could hide her past, who she was, from everyone was beyond stupid. Then again, if she believed her father, she's always been that foolish. Lex has been on a diet of deception and denial since birth, and her life in La Push is no different. Between playing house with Embry and buddying up with Kim, she's never once stopped to think of what would happen when the cards would fall. And fall they had, the illusion of her picture-perfect life fragmenting into little tiny humiliating pieces. Shit, she'd be remembering the newlyweds' horrified faces as she was escorted out of the reception every night for the rest of her life. All she did was irritate and disappoint, hurt and lie, wherever she went, no matter how hard she tried to distance herself from the past. Her father was right, after all. The McKinleys were fuck-ups, through and through.

When they arrive at the apartment, she says goodbye to Kim just like every other day. No formalities, no real parting words - as if there's anything real about her these days - and certainly no signal that it's a true goodbye. It would hurt Kim too much if she knew. Kim would try and talk her out of it, maybe even cry a little when the finality set in, and they can't have that. Logically, she knew she couldn't tell Kim the plan anyway; Kim'd run straight to Embry and he'd be at her house before she could even seal a box shut. It simply wouldn't work. Kim promises to come back and check on her Monday afternoon. Lex makes a mental note to be long gone by then. The reformed version of herself - the fake one, she muses - would detest all this running, but the sick truth is that avoidance is the only real thing about her, the only constant. Everything else is just white noise.

"Yo, Embry, come look at this," Brady hollers, waving his phone.

Embry doesn't move from his slumped spot at Emily's dining room table. She pats him sympathetically on the shoulder, shaking her head at Brady when she's sure Embry won't see.

"Give him a little space, Brades. I think Collin's out in the yard if you wanted to show him some stuff," she says kindly, giving Embry one final squeeze before she moves away.

Brady huffs, rolling off the couch to amble over. "Don't fuckin' growl at me, Call. I'm trying to help you out. Look at this before I change my mind," he says, sliding his phone under Embry's lowered head. It's opened to their local subreddit, some post about offering beer for a ride.

Embry reads for a moment before closing his eyes. "Thanks, but no thanks. I don't need beer money."

"No, dumbass, look at the username. Saint A? Looking to go north on a one-way trip? Who do we know that's cheesy as hell, lives out that way and is going through some shit? God, do you even have a working brain?"

"Brady," Emily admonishes, shaking her head, but Embry pays no mind.

He snatches the phone back to re-read the post. "She wouldn't...she'd tell me, right?" he says, suddenly hesitant.

Neither Brady nor Emily speak. The cogs in his brain are moving slower than Quil on a Monday morning, working the problem over in his head. He knew Lex was upset - that much was clear after their night at the station. If he'd stayed until the end of the interview - if he'd managed to stay human for more than five fucking seconds - maybe she'd be calmer, happier. Jared had dragged him out by the elbow after he'd ripped the cushioned armrest off the chair, discarding the splintered wood somewhere out the back of the station. He'd ripped out of his clothes in a split second, pacing the brush restlessly, furiously. All he could think about was her, her in her worst moments, the kind of thoughts that'd send teeth through flesh if he could move unsupervised.

Embry hadn't phased back until well into the next morning. Emily had welcomed him into the bungalow with an overly sweet cup of coffee and a pitying smile.

She was long gone by that point.

His wolf felt every inch of the distance.

In the here and now, though, Embry can't stomach the cautious looks he's fielding from every direction. Instead, he threads his car keys through his fingers, heading to the truck with only one objective in mind: change her mind. Embry's not sure if it's the distressed imprint part of him, or the mildly insane human element, but one of the two ends up forcing him to pull over to empty his guts on the side of the highway. Not even the gentle swaying cedars bordering the woods can settle his stomach or his mind. She can't leave, not without a goodbye or an explanation or something, anything, to make it all make sense. They were finally getting somewhere, too, even if that somewhere was only a vaguely defined entanglement that existed only in the privacy of his bedroom. The Lex he knows wouldn't just disappear on him; sure, she's as flighty as the larks in spring, but she never really goes far, not like this. Not like soliciting rides from total strangers on the internet instead of asking one of the many people that actually give a fuck about her. His knuckles tighten on the steering wheel as he urges the car into fifth gear. The engine whines in protest, but he presses on anyways, thinking only of how many words it's going to take to talk her down until she's able to look him in the eye again.

The stoplight over the bridge is red, but he floors it through anyway. He has to swerve at the very last second to avoid an oncoming SUV, averting his eyes from the irate driver that shakes their fist in his direction. The old Embry had never violated the traffic code, would never - but the old Embry had evaporated like a puff of smoke the moment she'd crossed his path. She never did make it easy for him, either - between the avoidance and the prickliness and secret-keeping, she'd all but left him out of the loop in every possible way - and a part of him resented her for how carefree she could be. Hell, Lex could up and leave in a second and she'd be fine. He'd be in pieces, listless and dazed, and she'd be none the wiser.

"Fuck imprinting," he roars, slamming his hands down onto the steering wheel.

There's a muffled crack as part of the plastic splinters, but he doesn't care. None of it matters, anyway, not when he rounds the corner to her street, and especially not when he sees the growing collection of boxes on her patio.

When he thinks back to the moment later, he doesn't really remember how he got to her. Quil tells him they found his keys still in the ignition, though the car was off and shifter in first. Muscle memory, he guesses. Embry doesn't remember crossing her lawn, scaling the porch steps, entering her house. They know from his memories that he'd met her inside the living room, had followed her into the kitchen as she worked. Later, when the dust settles and the pain dulls, he can recall some scraps of their argument, remembering her refusal to discuss her sudden change in plans. It comes back to him in little slivers of memory, scraps he pieces together in the gruelling hours that follow. If he closes his eyes just right, he can replay the scene frame by frame, recalling to the millisecond the moment everything went wrong.

He stomps through the narrow corridor, feeling like the walls are closing in on him like a funhouse maze. It feels like a trap, like he's being sucked into a whirlpool of despair, and yet his legs mechanically drive him forward as if he has no choice in the matter. The steady thrum of her heartbeat echoes in the expanses of the house, calling him towards her. She doesn't see him at first - she's bent over a pile of books, leafing through pages as she sorts them into boxes. He's not sure what alerts her, whether it's his laboured breathing or burning stare, but she suddenly jerks her head upright, meeting his eyes. There's a layer of guilt beneath the blankness, something raw underneath her facade.

"Em? When did you get here?" she asks nervously.

A moment passes, then two, and neither speak. He can't seem to string the words together to express how absolutely fucking livid he is, how humiliated and betrayed and shut-out he feels when it comes to her. He watches her instead, his eyes following her fingernails as they dig into her arms, leaving her skin raw and red from the touch.

"What are you doing?" she whispers.

He can hear her heartbeat quickening. It's like he's in a dream, suspended in quicksand, unable to change his course. His body is moving for him, his brain taken over by something long-suppressed and rarely confronted. He takes long, slow steps towards her, walking until he's close enough to touch. Her fear smells sweet, almost hypnotising, drawing him in until his nose is a mere breath away from hers.

"I can't let you leave."

The voice rumbling from his chest sounds nothing like Embry, nothing like anyone Lex has ever heard. It's impossibly deep and raspy, a kind of commanding that makes her blood stand stlll in her veins. Logically, she knows that Embry is standing before her, so much closer than he'd ever venture, but he's almost unrecognisable. His usually dark eyes are almost black, boring into hers like a predator watches its prey. From the possessive posture to the tightness in his jaw, none of this is familiar, none of this is him, and she can't help but feel terrified by the man before her.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she whispers, her eyes darting towards the door. Maybe Kim will come back to check on her. Maybe Maya will finish her shift early. Maybe -

He grabs her chin. "Look at me," he rumbles, his expression carved into a deep frown. "I know you're going to leave. I know."

She's frozen in his grip, a statue made of ice, disintegrating in his hot hands. He's stronger than her, faster, more powerful, and she's losing time as the seconds tick by.

"I was going to call you," she whimpers, the words sounding false and pitiful as they fall from her mouth.

He shakes his head violently. "Call me? You were going to call me? I don't believe you for a second."

He's right, and she knows it. "Please, Embry, just calm down. We can talk."

If he was an explosive, speaking the words 'calm down' may as well have been the detonator. He snarls, low and long like a feral beast.

"Calm? You want me to be calm when you leave? I can't -"

His trembling intensifies, morphing into furious shudders that wrack his body. He keels over, turning away for a blessed moment. Lex makes eye contact with herself in the hallway mirror and for a split-second, she doesn't recognise herself, all wide-eyed and pale. There are two strangers in the house today. Embry's breathing becomes raspier, strained as his chest heaves.

"Embry, you need -" she starts, intent on calming him down. She can take him to a doctor, get him some help -

"No," he growls, his eyes glinting black.

It all happens quickly then. For the briefest of moments, something flickers in his stare, a kind of wide-eyed moment where she almost thinks he's in control of himself. And next, he's pushing her away, her socked feet slipping on the linoleum as she falls backwards, her head connecting with the cool floor beneath. She blinks. That's all it takes, all she needs for her life to be segmented in two, into the before and the after. Because after you see a giant, shaggy beast leaning over your prone body, how can you go back?

She's delirious. She must be. Embry couldn't, he wouldn't -

But the eyes of the beast that lock onto hers mirror his caramel irises, the familiar ones, not the onyx eyes that had greeted her this afternoon. The creature looms large over her for a moment, trembling at the scene, before its head snaps upright, staring out the back door. It looks to her, then outside, then back again. All Lex can do is stare. It takes her a long, painful moment, but she eventually draws her hand to touch her scalp. Stickiness blooms between her fingers.

The creature whines again before retreating, claws skidding across the linoleum in its haste to escape. Distantly, Lex wonders how much it'll take to fix before she can get her security deposit returned. The fuzziness spreads through her body like a rash, sending shocks of pins and needles into every inch of her body. Her mind's running on a loop, her heartbeat sending fluttering choruses of Em-bry, Em-bry, Em-bry. Him, the man, the beast, the lover, the monster. The Embry she knew was a human, a gentle, caring soul, not some sort of paranormal predatory monster. The blood trickling from her scalp suggests otherwise, but it can't be real. None of it can be.

The doctor tells her later that the injury is only minor, a superficial slash that had bled a little more than usual, but nothing to worry about. Her reaction, apparently, was all shock. She remembers the EMT rolling her onto the stretcher, but she doesn't remember them arriving. Lex has little glimpses of the ambulance ride, a flash of pathetic begging for them to call Kim when she'd arrived at the hospital - God knows how they'd managed to bring the right person down - but nothing substantial in between. By the time Kim arrives, they've cleaned the biggest smears from her skin with a washcloth, sponging the evidence away as if it never happened. As if she truly was as crazy as she felt, some Lady Macbeth wannabe that had fabricated the entire ordeal.

Kim doesn't treat her like she's crazy. She doesn't scold her or ask for an explanation or say I told you so.

Kim simply climbs into the narrow hospital bed beside Lex, folding her body in close until they're tangled in a mesh of limbs.

"You're not crazy, Lex. I know what you saw. It's real."

A/N: Hello! I have not died. I am simply living (dying?) out on fieldwork. I will endeavour to have something new out in the next two weeks. Thanks for reading! As always, reviews are very much appreciated.