Oppressed by Love
Leah and Jacob have survived as a pack for six painful years. As the vampire spawn discovers boys, Sam and Emily expect their first little monster progeny, and Leah's sarcasm reaches new levels of acidity, they must overcome that much more simply to retain their combined sanity. Told through Leah's swearing, violent, and somewhat depraved mind, a tale of two werewolves being opressed by love. This beautiful, spontaneous banner was made by the UTTERLY AWESOME JokesOnJane, who made me the happiest person alive by, without warning, creating and giving it to me. :)
So this is a story I came up with after reading about Leah in Breaking Dawn. Although I hated the book, I did enjoy the Jacob and Leah parts. If you are thoroughly attached to Bella, Edward, and their bouncing baby spawn, you will probably flame me for this. However, I'd like to think that underneath all the darkness and sarcasm, there are some genuinely funny parts in this. So give it a chance - and please review if you love OR hate it! Banner made by JokesOnJane, who is simply a wonderful human being and did it without even being asked.
7. Floating Facedown in a Sea of Sorrow
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Floating Facedown in a Sea of Sorrow
Leah didn't phase to wolf form for a while after the spawn's rejection of Jacob. She stayed human, knowing he needed space and time to think. He needed a quiet mind, and she couldn't help him until he had accustomed himself to the idea of not being a part of the spawn's future.
Unfortunately being human for a week gave fate even more opportunities to gleefully fuck with her.
Sam visited her exactly a week after the parasite incident. The doorbell rang, Leah heard her mother's cold voice, and then footsteps sounded in the hall.
He didn't bother to knock, he just walked right in. Luckily she was fully clothed, and had been sprawled on her bed reading some article about a band in Seattle. He announced himself gravely, "Leah, I'm here to talk to you."
She shot him a dirty look, reached over, and put her headphones in her ears.
"Leah," he said warningly. She turned the volume up.
He struggled with himself, and from the corner of her eye she saw the exact same exasperation that had always been present in their relationship. She was too strong willed for his need for constant control. Emily was quieter, more submissive. Leah fought back, and Sam hated it.
Eventually his alpha aggression won over, and he strode over to rip the earphones out of her ears. She hissed.
"I need to talk to you," he insisted.
"Talk away," she snarled, "I'm not listening."
He ignored her comment, and sat on the edge of her bed. She was struck by a sense of familiarity at the situation. How many times had he sat in the exact same place, with the exact same expression, while they loved each other?
"Listen, I know the baby name really hurt you," he hesitated, "and I'm sorry about that. Emily and I decided to name him something different."
Leah flipped the pages of the Seattle magazine. Against her will she listened to her stupid ex's stupid words.
"But you can't overreact like that every time something happens," he continued, "you shouldn't have ran off just because we wanted to honor your father. I know that you still . . . care for me, but please. It hurts Emily when you blow up like that whenever you hear anything about our relationship."
She gaped at him.
"Leah, I still love you. Just not that way. Can you please pull yourself together for Emily's sake?"
For Emily's sake?
"Its okay if you never get over me. I understand that. But you need to try to be happy, Leah, because your unhappiness is hurting those who care about you. Its cruel"
She was wordless from shock. She couldn't speak. Her brain was frozen with outrage and anger and pain.
He stood to leave, and lightly touched her shoulder; "Emily would like you to be in the delivery room when the baby is born. Think about it. We both would really like for you to be a part of our lives. We know you need love."
Her shoulder burned as if a vampire had bit her. Sam smiled sadistically, "Bye Lee-lee."
She phased and jumped out the window the second her door swung shut.
Jacob's pain, immeasurable and raw, hit her like a bulldozer the second her mind entered the link. She stumbled slightly in the forest outside her house, then pulled herself together and shielded herself with her own pain to block it. Jacob's pain surrounded her, searching for a weakness, but her own pain was so thick that his couldn't swallow her as well.
Leah, he choked. He felt guilty. He didn't mean for his own misery to attack her that way.
She couldn't respond. Her brain ran through Sam's words over and over again, her outrage and fury at his arrogance, her sorrow in his happiness, and her pain in knowing that he was absolutely right.
Oh, Leah, Jacob's tone turned even more anguished, I'm so sorry.
She pulled herself together enough to think, Not your fault. Then her mind succumbed to images of Sam and Emily. Remembering the day Sam broke her heart. Remembering their wedding. She collapsed inwards, torn into a downward spiral of misery caused by her first and only love.
Jacob was stricken. He recoiled from her ever-expanding pain, but at the same time reached out to try to help her. For a moment, at least, his own agony was forgotten.
"I love you, just not that way."
"We'll always be together."
"You're everything to me, Leah, but . . . but Emily is undeniable. I don't have a choice. I'm so sorry."
"Its time to move on. Pull yourself together. I've healed, why can't you?"
"Leah, its over. Its done. I . . . we can't. I have Emily now, I don't have a choice. I can't fight it."
She remembered herself, begging, crying, "Fight it! Fight it! I need you, Sam, I love you!"
Jacob flinched. Leah's memories cut him like a switchblade.
Leah . . . Jacob waited.
She ran as hard and fast as she could. She wasn't sure exactly when it happened, but suddenly Jacob was supplying directions for her. She followed them numbly, not knowing or caring where her lighting-quick feet were carrying her. Sam ravaged her thoughts.
Her heart twisted, crumpled. Fault lines from the previous attacks showed brightly, and new slashes began forming. Jacob winced at the visual, but agreed whole-heartedly with it.
He provided an image of a small clearing, so far North it might have been Canada, and then continued guiding her.
He visited you? Jacob asked.
Leah ran through the entire conversation for Jacob's benefit. Jacob hissed with fury.
I'm sorry. I should have been there.
But Leah remembered how badly it had hurt when Sam had first left her. She remembered the raw, agonizing pain, and knew that Jacob was incapable of functioning as a normal human being at the moment. She had been there. She knew what it was like.
Yes, but, I'm your alpha, he gave her an image of an uprooted tree pointed slightly eastwards, its my responsibility to make sure you don't have to deal with that kind of pain.
She snorted. Her voice returned. Have you seen my life? I have no happy ending, Jacob. These past five years have been the peak of it. Now you're a pit of despair, Sam and Emily are sadistically throwing everything they can in my face, and I can't escape.
He mused quietly over the words ‘pit of despair.' Then his thoughts briefly flickered to his own pain, and he flinched.
Leah, in a fit of desperation and need to escape her familiar agony, dove directly into his memories.
During Jacob's week of separation he had thought frequently of the bleak future ahead, desolate with no meaning or joy. He had replayed the scene of his rejection over and over again, comparing it to Bella's frequent vicious dismissals. He had struggled with the overwhelming desire to murder Nahuel.
Leah savored each of these bits of pain that weren't her own, dissecting them carefully and giving each all of her attention. Her feet followed Jacob's directions; her mind ripped his heart to exposed shreds.
And, almost subconsciously, she compared each facet of his pain with the correlating fragment of her own. As she watched the spawn tell him she needed ‘space', she felt Sam's own apologetic rejection fill her veins with hot lead. Hopeful images of Nahuel, burning sparked her own memories of wanting to drive a stake through Emily's heart.
She almost didn't realize that Jacob was searching her own mind in an attempt to escape his misery. Their anguish and reasoning was so eerily similar that they were able to snap the corresponding pieces together easily.
Leah darted through the forest so quickly that she knew she was going far, far faster than the fastest leech ever could. Jacob steered her easily.
As she ran, and Jacob writhed in pain in the clearing, they worked together to rearrange all their parallel memories and feelings into crisp pairs. Every cause of their combined inescapable pain - Bella, the spawn, Sam - all of it was filed into folders that matched. Bittersweet memories weren't touched. Leah's happy moments with Sam, Jacob's bliss with the toddler spawn, all of that was left alone.
It could have been hours, or minutes later. Leah did not keep track of time. Exhaustion, both emotional and physical, seeped through her consciousness. Jacob yanked her towards the small Northern clearing, now darkened with the shadow twilight.
When she arrived, limping with pain, Jacob stood. Leah.
She collapsed in the clearing, her legs unable to support her. Her mind torn with images of Sam, her heart mangled, her body exhausted. She felt cold.
He was equally exhausted, his entire being wracked with pain so intense and familiar that she shied away. He curled up next to her, warming her with his overheated body.
He's an asshole, Jacob muttered mentally, how can he keep doing this to you?
The spawn isn't any better, Leah noted tiredly, she's playing with you, Jacob. You saw her game. She wants your undying affection, but she'll never return it.
He was silent for a few minutes. She felt his sad recognition of the fact, and then he sighed internally, I can't be near her. She isn't healthy. I'll always want her company, and want her safety more than anything else, but I can't keep living like this.
Then don't, Leah suggested, she'll be fine. She's invincible, she's got a huge family, and now she's got the only other male of her species. Leave her be. She's your imprint - do what's best for her.
I'm not sure how I'll survive, he admitted, I can't . . . just this week I've wanted to die. Death has to be easier than this.
I hope so, Leah rested her gray head on her paws, because this is about as hellish as life can possibly get.
He agreed. He leaned his great russet body against her slightly, and suppressed his terror of the future.
I have the rest of eternity to live and worry and die over her actions, Jake thought bleakly, there is nothing but time. She'll continue hurting me, and I'll continue doing anything she asks at my own expense. I have no choice. And all I want is to fight back and break these awful bonds.
Break them, Leah told him.
How? He asked despairingly, you're in my mind. You know that she ties the universe down for me - I can't break those bonds!
Leah knew. Leah knew exactly what it was like to feel as if one person held your world in the palm of their hand, and what it would be like if that person tossed it away as if it were nothing. She knew the terror of the experience.
Life goes on, Jake, Leah imagined Sam and Emily, together, and her own world steadily piecing itself back into some semblance of normal, it takes time, but you have forever.
Forever sucks, Jacob thought petulantly.
Yes, it does, Leah shivered at the idea of Sam and Emily, together, their offspring haunting her as she prowled the earth for centuries.
You need to find somebody to love you, Leah, Jacob thought, his tone contemplative, you need to find somebody who can make you forget that disaster of a relationship.
Same applies to you, pal.
He cringed, Its too soon.
It's been years for me, Jake, and its still a bitch, Leah sighed; you learn to numb yourself to it. You learn to deal, and to distract yourself. But when you're by yourself at night, you remember, and it hurts just as bad as the day it happened.
Jacob stretched slightly, staring up as the stars began popping from behind the veil of clouds, I'll never phase again. I'll age and die.
With a coven down the road? To hell you won't, Leah thought bitterly, I've tried. I still phase.
Practice makes perfect
Not in this case.
His massive shoulders sank. After a while, both of them floating facedown in their individual seas of sorrow, he asked her, Can we go human? I can't deal with . . . all of it right now.
I don't have clothes.
I have shorts, sweats, and a t-shirt, he imagined it in his head, that's enough.
He raised himself up, and Leah immediately felt colder. He disappeared behind a small cluster of trees, and then reappeared as his usual human self, his eyes wild and a loose pair of basketball shorts tied around his waist.
Leah rose and moved behind the trees, noticing a small pile of fabric placed in a pile on the ground. She nosed it, noticed Jacob's musky scent, and rolled her eyes. She would smell like a man.
Still, she phased back, slipped the enormously oversized clothes over her cold body, and moved back to where Jacob was leaning against a large tree.
"Its freezing," she snapped.
"Come sit next to me then," he patted the ground next to him, "I'm hot."
"No, you're not," she quipped. But she sat, and pressed her arm against the length of his.
They sat, companionably, both silently drowning in individual misery. Still, Leah was grateful for Jacob's presence. He understood her anguish. He shared it, almost. And with his huge, overheated body next to hers, she felt less alone then before.
She closed her eyes and let her heart be blown to smithereens.
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