Disclaimer: Still, we do not own Twilight.

Hello fellow readers. As always, we want to thank our lovely reviewers, Jacob Did Not Imprint, Only4Miken, calixx (we put in some Jamie's Point of View for you), Mayacompany, iRedeem, MintCcIcecream, FluffyOtters, Kaira5, and, last but not least, therewasbeauty. Wow. You guys are beyond amazing. Please accept this chapter as a gift for being such awesome readers.


Leah: Third Person

Leah regarded the scene before her with boredom and perhaps a slight bit of irritation. Jamie is such a bitch, she thought as she watched Jamie scream and yell without even trying to listen to Jacob. Didn't she realize what she was doing to Jacob? And if she didn't care about him, what about the rest of the pack? Leah stifled a groan at this thought. Jacob's mind would be hell while Jamie was gone. A tidal wave of pain. And with Claire gone…She felt a surge of hatred toward Jamie. Now she'd have to avoid running patrol with three of the werewolves. Leah grimaced. It was probably the first time she was ever grateful for the fact that imprints couldn't resist the imprint. Her eyes automatically flicked to Emily and jealousy and anger tore at her. She shouldn't blame Emily, she knew, it was Sam's fault she was so unhappy, but her mind had trouble wrapping itself around the concept…she couldn't even be around her former best friend anymore.

Leah's eyes were pulled away by the slam of Emily's door. Great… The only sound now was the door, vibrating against its frame. Everyone in the room was frozen, watching Jacob. After an immeasurable moment, Jacob punched the door, leaving a dent. Then again and again. He couldn't stop. And nobody else tried to end his movements either, although the door was becoming splintered and bloody. Eventually he collapsed against the ruined door, his forehead and open palms resting on the wood. Leah heard a muffled sob and watched his shoulders shake with it. Jacob was crying? Leah didn't think she had ever seen Jacob cry, not even with Bella. The pack watched with horror, obviously thinking the same thing. Hesitantly, Embry approached Jacob and placed his hand on Jacob's shoulder. Leah wasn't exactly sure if this was the best move. She sure as hell didn't want to be touched after Sam had left her…even after three years this was still the case.

She was right.

Jacob swiveled around, pulling away from the comforting gesture. "Get away," he snarled like some wild animal. His eyes were mad with grief and the blood on the door had streaked his face red. Leah wouldn't have blamed Jamie for calling this Jacob a monster, although Jamie herself had created him. The air in the room seemed to condense, making the room seem too small. Leah felt claustrophobia threaten somewhere in the background of her mind. He was a breath away from phasing now, judging by his blurred figure. Leah stumbled backwards. Jacob was the largest wolf now, a force to be reckoned with, and if he lost control in here… it would be bad. Very bad.

Sam must have been thinking along the same lines because he made a move to restrain Jacob. "C'mon Jake."

Jacob wouldn't have it. "I said get away!!!" he roared as the others joined Sam. He struggled against them, punching and kicking and biting. Leah considered sneaking out the back, as this was not something she wanted to get involved with. She knew how Jacob was feeling, she had felt it herself. With Sam. With her dad. So, therefore, she knew Jacob would have no problem, in his state, tearing apart one of his friends. But Sam would be mad at her if she left. And as much as she hated to admit it, Sam had control over her. He could make her run patrol with Jacob or Quil. Or worse, he could make her run patrol with him himself. Although, he probably wouldn't punish her with the latter. Leah had made a habit of recalling memories of them together when he was in her head. It was almost as painful for Sam as it was for her, which made it even worse for him in the end. However, the possibility of the punishment was there, so Leah stayed.

They were trying to get him out the back door, where the neighbors couldn't possibly see him explode into a huge, hairy werewolf. Jacob was, of course, yelling and fighting, threatening to phase. "Jacob please," Sam finally begged, looking over at Emily, anxiously, "Please stop."

And, after a long moment, Jacob did. Leah thought it was the way Sam gazed at Emily that did it. Jacob swayed back and forth, the pack eyeing him warily. "She's gone," he moaned. "Gone." His eyes strayed to Sam, Paul, and Jared fleetingly, enviously,—Leah was extremely surprised that he hadn't phased yet—his shaking was so bad—and then he was out the door, followed by the rest of the boys.

Leah heard the familiar rip of exploding clothes and raised her eyebrows. "Well now," she drawled, "That was rather dramatic, wasn't it?"


Jamie's Point of View

When I awoke the next morning there was a terrible taste in my mouth. My teeth hurt, my head hurt, my stomach hurt, but mostly my heart hurt. With every thump of my heart came pain. It was a cold kind of pain, the kind of pain you feel when you're holding ice right before your fingers go numb, only a thousand times worse. It felt like dying. And the weather wasn't helping. It was freezing. I huddled under my blanket, desperate for warmth. It didn't work. It wasn't even close to this cold on the cliffs…Last nights events flashed through my mind. No! No, ridiculous. I must have dreamed it. That's why I felt so bad. Nightmares always made me feel crappy. There was no such thing as mythical beasts—werewolves that prowled through the night. And…and even if there was such a thing, Jacob? Jacob wasn't a monster. He couldn't be. So, therefore, he had done nothing wrong. He wasn't a danger to the people around him and he had definitely not betrayed me. I could go right now to his house and he would hold me in strong, warm arms and comfort me, and I wouldn't be so cold anymore, and nothing would ache, and everything would be right. But for some reason I couldn't get the crazy imaginings out of my head, no matter how many logical arguments I threw at them. So I decided to prove them wrong once and for all, I would go to Jacob's house. I pushed off the covers, they hadn't been helping anyway, and jumped out of bed. I would just take my mom's keys and drive over there. I marched towards the door, grabbing the keys on the way, and opened the door into the light of the dawn. However, I made a fatal mistake…I left through the front door. If I had left through the garage door, I would have not stepped on the old t-shirt, never had read the note, and would have met Jacob while I was in a much calmer mood. But as it so happened, I did. The shirt was the one that I had lent Jacob when he had been walking around bare-chested. It was folded neatly, more neatly than I'd ever been able to do it. I wondered, vaguely, if Jacob had managed to do it himself. There was a white envelope taped to the top. To Jamie, was scrawled across the front. My stomach sunk, while my heart throbbed faster. Trembling, I picked up the note and shirt and took them inside, thoughts of visiting La Push forgotten. I sat down on the couch mechanically and unstuck the note, placing the shirt to my side. It took me a few times but I finally got my unwilling hands to un-tuck the envelope flap. I felt the cold creep around me menacingly. Taking slow breaths I opened the note and began to read.

Dear Jamie,

Jacob here. Here's your shirt. (Emily folded it for me, in case you were wondering. Probably not.) Thanks for letting me borrow it. Shirts are kind of inconvenient for us.

I closed my eyes, remembering how tatters of his clothes had floated down beside the wolf. It hadn't been my imagination. It was real. The paper began to flutter in my hand. Jacob was a wolf. I read on.

I won't bother you again.

Love,

Jake

P.S. Sorry.

I read the last line of the letter again, not comprehending. I won't bother you again. This was it. No more warmth and laughter. Just a never ending winter. A life without Jacob. Cold fingers tore open my chest, and left it to fester. Had I said the pain in my heart felt like dying earlier? I was wrong. This. This was dying. My hand unwillingly tightened around the paper, crumpling it. I stared at it for a second, hating it. Loathing it. With a strangled sob, I threw it across the room where it hit the wall and fell behind the TV. Out of sight. Out of mind.

Something ugly and vile coiled and twisted in my stomach, making me feel sick. I ran to the bathroom, leaned over the toilet, and retched until I was heaving up nothing. Jacob. Jacob. Jacob. I moaned and then made my way back to my bedroom, falling back onto my bed.

"Jamie?" My mother materialized in the doorway. At my appearance she gasped. "What's wrong?"

I looked at her, holding back tears. "Nothing," I said, my voice coarse.

"Oh, Jamie." She came and sat down beside me, stroking my hair.

"Please. Leave me alone."

"Was it that Jacob kid?"

I burst into sobs at this. That Jacob kid. She made him sound so insignificant, like some desperate teen's first crush.

"What happened?" she asked. "Did he break up with you?"

"No," I bawled, "I broke up with him."

"Why? He seemed like a nice enough kid." I couldn't answer that. I stared up at her miserably. She seemed to understand. "Well," she rested her hand on my forehead, "I'm sure you'll find the right person in no time. But in the meantime we can watch a good movie and have some chocolate ice cream, huh?"

I laughed. No, I went into hysterics. Like ice cream and a movie would solve all my problems. Right. Thankfully, my mom took this as her cue to leave. A few minutes later tears overtook my stupid giggling. This wasn't time for happiness. I cried and I cried and I cried, all the while my body complaining about the cold. Eventually though, I couldn't feel anything, my crying and shivering had stopped. The cold had numbed me, like cold always does, leaving me empty, lifeless. I lay in my room for hours, staring at the ceiling and trying not to think. Every once in a while one of my parents would knock on my door, begging me to come out and eat something. I didn't want to face them. Something about that bothered me. I was hiding away from the world, letting Jacob take over my life. My mind began to follow the same angry track that it had the night before, except this time my feelings were real. I couldn't let this mistake in my life bog me down. Life went on. Jacob had proved that to me. Soon, Jacob would be just like Mark, a blemish in my memories.

To enforce that, I thought of his every flaw. Firstly, he kept secrets. Huge, life-changing secrets. Which, in turn, meant that he was a liar. He was also nosy, I recalled the time he had barged into my house and looked through my things. He over-reacted to pretty much everything And, of course, there was the whole terrifying, out-of-control wolf thing. Then I thought about the letter, getting furious at Jacob for trying to "act" like the good guy. I won't bother you again, my ass. He'd be here any day now, begging for me to come back, and I would push him away with my nose in the air and a smile gracing my lips. Sorry Jacob Black, I don't date monsters.


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