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Tearing Me Apart

Summary:
Emily/Sam/Leah multi-chaptered fic. Set post-BD, Sam decides to find some of those acquaintances of Carlisle's and take them down. He has a new lead on the human killers, and goes on a three-week trip to get to them. Who does he elect to bring with him? The one pack member who has nothing to loose. Anymore. Leah Clearwater runs with him in dead silence, until one day she breaks down and reveals the truth. He finds he has a choice to make... again.


Notes:
So... my first multi-chaptered Sam/Leah. all the others have been one-shots. and this one may actually have a happy ending. Spoilers for BD. Adult for Leah's naughty words and possibly some innuendo in later chapters.


2. Chapter 2

Rating 5/5   Word Count 685   Review this Chapter

Nice work there, he says.

You too, I reply.

I can feel the offensively not teasing shock in his thoughts. What, was that an actual compliment? From you?

With love, from me, to you… shit, he can read my thoughts. Um… I scan for something hurtful and seize on an old memory of myself and Emily, as children, playing.

“I have a big crush on a boy,” she told me, weaving an arm through mine.

“Really really?’

“Really really.” And she laughed.

My eyes got wide and afraid. “So I’m not your bestest friend anymore?”

“Don’t be silly, Leah. No matter what, you’ll always be my bestest friend. I love you more than I could ever love a boy.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky promise.”

I think we were about six at the time, but it does the trick. Sam stops shifting through my thoughts, so I can reply as though in normal conversation. Don’t look so shocked. I’m not really a bitch, Sam.

You put on a pretty good act.

That’s about all I do nowadays, as a matter of fact. I’ve spent so much damn time tricking and lying and convincing them I’m just a nasty person, when I’m trying to… Yeah. I do.

Leah? I realize he hears the sorrow in my voice. Damn it. Is that genuine emotion I detect?

Cut the sarcasm, Sam, I growl, and maybe I’ll tell you. Oops. That slipped out, but suddenly it’s true. I want him to know. I’m sick and fucking tired of hiding this for his benefit, when he’s the one who caused it in the first place. I’m finished with the pain. I just want it to end, for God’s sake. Is that so much to ask? But instead of dealing with it, I have to hide it behind a wall of anger, keep it from the whole damn pack, pretend like it isn’t even there instead of actually improving myself. Show you, rather.

This ends today. The lies, the deceptions for his sake, end today. I’m not giving Sam Uley another fucking thing. He’s taken everything I have away already.

I unleash it. I take down the wall that a hundred petty cruelties have erected, let the guards on my agony rush forth. I share it, it becomes his, for any one of us who phases to see and know and feel. It’s ours now, not mine, and the burden lessens just a little.

Oh God, he whispers, all four knees visibly buckling under the stress of it, Holy Hell. Is that…

That’s what’s really in my head all the time. Bet you’re glad I don’t ‘just open up and let us in’ now, huh?

Wow.

The phrase you’re looking for is…

Leah, I’m really, really, really sorry.

He doesn’t even pluck it from my brain, and yet it’s nowhere near as satisfying as it should be. Because I can see what he’s picturing, almost involuntarily. I might fall for that. If I couldn’t read your mind. I might believe it. But do you know that when you say the word sorry, even if what you’re apologizing for is ripping my heart into a billion little pieces and then stepping on them, all you see is Emily’s face? When are you going to see that my scars run deeper than skin? She lost a pretty face. I lost my soul mate, Sam. That’s what you were. What you are. You just don’t want me. I’m never going to heal. It’s not even going to scab over, and it’s never going to fade into those nice neat lines she’s got. I’m still bleeding. Nothing’s changed. Nothing will. Never, Sam. Never.

I don’t put the wall back up. With every word, the agony is there, the pain and guilt and loneliness and loathing. But the only answer he can find is, Leah, I’m sorry.

I run from the picture of Emily’s inconsequential pain.

He is wordless.

But he follows.