[Edit: 5 Sept 2021]
TW: blindness
It's strange, being able to see again. Strange because I never thought I'd be afraid of the dark. I've never had reason to be until I thought it might be dark permanently. In my life there have always been nightlights, full moons through windows, the enhanced night vision of the wolf, until suddenly none of these things existed in a way that was nearly corresponding to what the world is supposed to be. I always thought fear tasted bitter and like fire ash. I was wrong. Fear is being paralysed by certainty that there is no hope, fear is being trapped in a dark, confined room knowing that there are people and things outside that you cannot reach.
When my sight comes back, granted it reminds me of horrible 30's cable, all fuzzy, unfocused, and colourless and it looks somewhat like the world has been dragged under a train, I lie in my bed crying. You'd think that the tears mess up my sight even more, but the disorientating blurs and fixtures of shapes can't possibly get more disfigured than they already are.
Somehow, if anything, my nose can smell the hint of cooking salsa from two miles away, and I can hear the scratching of bugs somewhere out in the preserve. It's nauseating. Being in wolf form part time was nice, nice because I could choose to let the salt of the ocean stifle me, nice because I could sleep at night without having to listen to three hundred various species of birds doing their night time gossip. Now though… now I'm constantly hungry even if my body protests against something as simple as the vitamin soup being pumped into my veins and the world won't shut up for one damn second.
Plus my nose is itchy as fuck. Can I move anything except my eyelids though? No. If I could give the word a big fat middle finger right now, I would.
"They'll heal." Carlisle says, every word a whisper.
While previously I found it hard to be so close to him, now I'm beyond grateful for his presence. Every time one of those goddamned wolves is close by something breaks in another room, there's shouting and teasing and I can almost taste their laughter. Their joy of family. Unlike the wolves, loud and annoying as all hell, the vampire is quiet. Quiet is good. Quiet keeps me calm, makes me think of lapping streams and gentle breezes. It keeps my mind off of the fact of how lonely this feels, how much more bitter I'm becoming each time I hear Seth breathless with mirth what seems a thousand miles away. While I lie here in pain, wallowing in self-pity and exhaustion and helplessness.
"I'll need to put you on another drip. The energy expended by shifting forces you eat more, your body temperature and the healing are draining you dry at this point. You're not getting enough to sustain you. We need to get as much nutrients in you as possible."
I want to hate him. Him and his bloodsucking ways. But the amount of compassion he uses in addressing me, like I'm still human, like I'm not some disfigured monster, etches away at the hard corners of my already damaged heart.
I close my essentially useless eyes, blocking out the pale blob that is the doctor, and try to remember what his face looks like, I can't. All the thoughts in my head seemed to have merged and what resides in its place is a messy goop of faces, voices, memories where nothing really makes sense and everything is tinged in some or other kind of anger and sorrow.
The only face I have been able to recall is Seth's. Smiling, crying, laughing, and serious. Like a montage of memories overlapping until I can't tell whether he's laughing and crying at the same time, but it doesn't really matter. Because it's him. I can see him. Even if it's only in this tiny corner of my mind.
It's him more than anything that keeps me from trying to fade away. His laughter hurts me now, but at least he is laughing. Call it older sister syndrome or whatever you want really, but it's the niggling worry that he'll neglect his homework or trip over his shoelaces or stutter in front of the girl he likes that keeps me breathing.
I hear the doctor stand, the rustle of clothing, he walks away and comes back. I can't feel the rest of my body in any aspect other than pain but I can smell the chemical compounds, the sheath of plastic encasing it. An injection.
I wanted to thank him, apologize too, but I can't. Not now. Maybe never.
"Leah, I'm heading out. Jacob wanted to bring Renesme to see you, I hope you're okay with that. She's quite an energetic thing, but Jacob is as determined as they get."
I open my eyes to television static and search for the white blob. I don't say it but I'm sure my face must because the doctor starts chuckling.
"I know, he is more a child than Renesme, what Jacob wants Jacob gets." He moves away from the bed, I hear him putting away his instruments, one clink at a time. "If it will make you feel better, I'll send Seth in as well, he might keep the two of them grounded."
I blink rapidly.
"No? All right then, I'll see you tomorrow, Leah. Rest well," And just like that he's gone. I hear him speaking to Billy and Charlie, outside, but as clear as if he's saying the words right into my ear. I try to ignore them, rather searching for the rush of breath through their lungs.
Billy's breath is laboured, not noticeably, but enough that it's probably something to be worried about. Charlie's is even, calm. I imagine him speaking to my mom over the phone with that level gust and something in me twists.
"You might never be able to change," The doctor had said.
Change back? Change into a wolf? And suddenly it's a daunting reality that I might never get to grow old like a human. Might never be able to have a second chance of life and love and happiness, because I'll forever be tied to Sam, to the pack.