The Twilight Series belongs to S. Meyer, no copyright infringement is intended. I'm just playing with the characters.
This time she felt the same burning pain as she phased into her wolf. The anger she had at Sam for what he had done and the knowledge that he was in charge was enough to keep her human side in control. She could still feel it but she was in control. It was only there to provide minimal guidance while she felt out how to navigate through the forests on four limbs.
When he phased in she felt it happen. Her thoughts were chaotic and it didn't take long before she realized how difficult it would be to keep a secret. If Sam knew—surely that meant they all knew.
She couldn't control the images that began to cycle through her brain. Memories of things that were meant only for him and her. Private moments, cherished memories, and how right it had felt to be with him—how easy it had been to fall in love.
A new voice was added to her head—another pack member. She couldn't determine exactly who it was and she didn't care to know either. They were witnessing things she didn't want them to. It was mortifying.
There you two are. Sam was getting ready to send one of us after you. What happened? You both disappeared—well, you disappeared. I couldn't tell if Leah was still phased in or not.
She whimpered in distress. This wasn't normal—having voices in your head. Her anxiety increased as she felt it trying to take over. It knew how to silence the noise in her head. But she didn't want that—she wanted to stay herself. She found herself stumbling and it was more than ready to take over; the tenuous hold on control she had was slipping away.
He could feel her distress and anxiety increasing. The internal argument she was having between her human and wolf sides. It was so different from what any of them had experienced. And the struggle she was having as she tried to stop her wolf from taking over; it was painful to watch.
Where do we need to be? I'm assume there's going to be a meeting.
Yeah, yeah…Sam's got everyone gathered, including the elders at Old Quil's. I think Sue's still at the hospital with Emily.
At the mention of Emily's name, she stumbled again. The memories of her attacking Emily were pushed into their collective minds. Anxiety and terror flooded them as they watched it replay over and over—on a continuous loop. There was another emotion attached to it. Though it wasn't apparent at first what it was; the tenor finally making itself known as her wolf pushed its way forward. Shame.
He had to prevent it. Normally it wouldn't matter if their wolf side was more dominant but he knew she was afraid of it. Afraid of herself. And until she was comfortable—it was better to keep her wolf at bay.
Look, you need to phase out. It's freaking her out.
But Sam said…
I don't care what Sam said. It's hard enough to phase back the first time and I don't know how she managed it but right now—I don't think your presence is helping.
You know he'll be pissed.
He's always pissed. I'll take the blame—just phase back and we'll be there soon.
Within seconds they were left alone. Just the two of them and he distracted her by replaying memories of funny movies they had watched together. And the time he had picked her up and dumped her, clothes and all into the ocean. Anything he could think of that would make her laugh.
Thank you she told him. It felt strange to talk through the link. She didn't like it but at least it wasn't chomping at the bit to take over.
Don't worry about it.
The remainder of their run back to La Push was nearly silent. The silence punctuated by only a few questions which he answered as best he could. Now that her wolf had been caged—she was once again thinking about what had made her so angry. Sam.
Who did he think he was? As far as she was concerned—they hadn't done anything wrong. He had disappeared and it wasn't like the day he left she gave up. She waited—over two weeks for him to return and she may have kept waiting if the facts hadn't been so concrete. She couldn't change them and apparently, no one thought anything different. Otherwise, the search would have continued until he returned.
Slowing her speed she waited for him to catch up to her. She could tell they were close to La Push and she wasn't sure where to go or how to proceed. It didn't seem likely that it would be okay for them to run down the road to Old Quil's place. He would have an idea of the route they needed to take—one that would get them there quickly and maintain the secrecy of their existence.
They ran almost side-by-side; he was just a few paces in front of her as he led the way. She didn't recognize much of the forest they were running through but again, it wasn't like she had explored every inch of it. She had the feeling it wouldn't be long before she knew every tiny bit of it.
When they reached Old Quil's house, he stopped inside the tree line and she followed suit. Earlier when he said he didn't know how she changed back—well, neither did she. She remembered the argument with Emily and what happened, the chaos when multiple voices entered her mind, then there was a black void—which she assumed was when it took over, and finally, there was the moment he crouched behind her and pulled her hands from the water. The gap between the void and him arriving was when she changed back.
His voice interrupted her thoughts. Changing—phasing back is the opposite. Anger helps you change into your wolf form. To change back you need the opposite. Usually the anger we have in our wolf form is too much for our human selves. The animal—the wolf understands it. It's too complicated and overwhelming to understand the rage, the need to fight, the need to kill—he winced at the last one. You can get used to it but it's animalistic and so there's no way to really accept it.
So, I need to think happy thoughts? Like Dorothy? Chant: There's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home while clicking my heels together?
He laughed. More or less—yes. But it's even easier than that.
For you maybe—but I'm not feeling particularly happy or joyful right now. In all honesty, I'd like to rip Sam a new one.
Save it for later. We'll be entering the wolf's den.
Great. Just great. How's that supposed to help?
Sorry. See what I mean, this shit is annoying at best and a Greek tragedy waiting to happening at worst.
You really shouldn't try to make similes—it isn't your strongest subject.
He laughed again. He could feel some of the tension and anger leaving her but it still wasn't enough. And they were close enough to the house that the others would be able to sense them.
It was odd how they could all do it to some degree. Sam was the best at it; regardless of what form he was in. And that was probably because he was their leader—the Alpha of the pack. To a lesser degree the rest of them could tell when another of them was near—he likened it the strange tingling sensation you would get when someone was looking at you. Uncomfortable at first, but soon you could ignore it.
Let's try this. Sometimes you have to find something that makes you feel the very opposite of angry—a memory, a thought, a feeling.
Taking advantage of her silence, he pushed his thoughts and memories to her. They were alone—just the two of them; otherwise he would have never used some of the things he did. It had been hard enough for him to be stripped bare in front of the pack; he certainly didn't want it for her.
She decided it was like watching a movie, only better. The tenor of the emotions and feelings washed through her. The lens in which he viewed her—them—painted a picture and she had never felt that loved, wanted, or needed. The ethereal creature he saw her to be was extraordinary.
As she tried to respond to what he was showing her, she felt the stretching and popping as her body re-aligned into the form it had been for the past 18 years. She fell into a heap on the ground unprepared for the change. And before she could get her bearings, he was in front of her; his shorts covering him while he held out his shirt for her to slip on.
"Old Quil should have a pair of shorts or something for you to put on. It will have to do until you go home."
She pulled the shirt over her head, her movements slow and measured as she tried to put into words what she had seen and felt. But she couldn't find them. Her anger became buried under the force of his feelings for her. His hand reached for her and she grasped it; allowing him to pull her into a standing position.
"Do you really…I don't know how to describe it…that can't be me…" she trailed off; awe and disbelief in her voice.
He knew their time was short; they were moments away from being interrupted and there were keen ears listening to every word. As much as he wanted to say the words—he couldn't. She—they were going to be facing the pack, the council—one of who was her father.
And though the council wouldn't be able to tell—every wolf present would. The scent of their joining clung to their skins. It wouldn't have matter if they had even taken the time for a dip in the ocean. He had done the one thing they had never done when they had been together. He had come inside her and he didn't regret it.
She would be pissed if she knew how his scent was going to cling to her body for days. But he secretly enjoyed it—he had staked his claim. While it was going to be a long battle to make her truly his; at least he could have this one thing. This statement that she belonged to him; and he was going to fight for her.
He smiled at her as he placed a finger to his lips before jerking his head toward the house. His gesture telling her without words that they weren't alone. Removing his finger from his lips, he stared into her eyes and mouthed, "I love you."
It was all she needed to know. And despite her apprehension about what they would face when they entered Old Quil's small house, she smiled and mouthed the same words back to him. Her hand remained tightly clasped in his as they walked to the house together.
FF_8756144_14 12/14/12 5:12PM