DISCLAIMER: I own nothing! Actually, I own a Shiba Inu, her name is Sachi.
So I seem to not be able to stop writing Blackwater fics. This is a companion to my other one-shot How to Save a Life. You really don't have to read it to understand this but it would probably help if you do (plus, it would make me happy, but I'm just saying). This is inspired by OneRepublic's song Apologize. I've written in present tense again because whenever I write about Leah or from her POV, I dunno, it always comes out in present tense. I also seem to be obsessed with commas.
Anyway, please read, review, etc.
Leah Clearwater is staring at the picture of her father that rests on top of her dresser. She's been staring at it for a good ten minutes, contemplating whether or not to pack it into her already stuffed duffel bag. She wants to bring it with her, it's her favorite, that's why she has it framed and put in a place where she can see it all the time. She sighs sadly and realizes for the umpteenth time since her father died that she really misses him. He may have passed on but dammit her father was the only man in her life who had never let her down.
She reaches for the framed photo and gently places it in her bag before securely zipping it closed. It's a symbol, a representation of her departure. Leah is never going to come back.
It isn't like she doesn't want to come back. God knows that the broken beauty doesn't want to leave at all. She'll never admit it openly but she's going to miss her mother, Seth, the pack...
But Leah knows that she has to leave, go far away and never come back. She wants to return, someday, at least, and she hopes one day she'll be strong enough to. But right now she knows that she can't, the heavy ache in her heart a painful reminder of all her failures, telling her that she's weak and she won't make it.
Leah knows the only way she can get through this is if she lets go.
Because Jacob Black's got her strung up in the air, holding on for her life, and she's so high she has no fucking idea if he's going to drag her along this torture ride any longer or if he's going to touch back down to earth and reality with her. And that's where the problem lies because Leah doesn't fucking know.
Leah tried to give Jacob time. They hadn't spoken since their fight so she left him alone. She thought that if she gave him his space, gave him time, he would think about what she said, think about how right she was. So she waited for him - waited, waited, waited. Every minute of the day, Leah would think, Are you realizing it now, Jacob? Do you see it, this very second? I know you're there, dammit. Please, be Jacob again, the one I know, the one I love...
But he never comes back. He never calls, never phases, never talks to anyone from the pack, not even Embry or Quil. He never says he's sorry.
Sorry for being another mindless imprinter.
Sorry for turning his back on the pack.
Sorry for not realizing it any sooner.
Sorry for hurting her.
No, he doesn't say he's sorry, not at all.
Leah cannot stay a moment longer, it would be masochistic of her to allow herself to get hurt once more. A very miniscule part of Leah is grateful that Sam is at least aware of what he has done, knows the pain he caused her and will forever be apologetic, no matter if he has Emily, the flawless imprint. But Jacob is so warped, so not him that he doesn't have the slightest fucking idea of what he does to Leah on a daily basis, the way her face hardens when his eyes light up at the sight of his precious vampire spawn. He doesn't see how close to the edge she is, that any moment she will fall, crumble, lose.
So she has to let go on her own, find her footing so she can get through this. Leah once tried to save Jacob but failed miserably. Now it was time to try and save herself.
She scans her room, quickly thinking of anything else she might need for a long, lonely journey. After three scans Leah realizes that she is no longer thinking about what she needs but is trying to memorize her room, trying to remember what it looks like. She easily throws her packed duffel bag over her shoulder and turns on her heel.
She writes a quick note for her mother and little brother. Leah may be a complex, difficult person but her words are straight forward and right to the point.
I'm sorry but this is something I just have to do. I'll come back, someday.
I love you both.
She knows she's lying when she says she'll come back but Leah doesn't want to hurt them any more than she already has.
Leah leaves the note on the dining table where her mother will see it when she comes home and looks for the mail. She bites her lip and swallows back a sob that threatens to escape. As she heads for the front door, Leah tries not to look back on the living room, the kitchen, the dining table. She wants to remember it the way it was yesterday when her mother was in the kitchen, laughing at her and Seth playing on the Xbox. Leah had never played with Seth on the damn thing before but she wanted to leave her brother with one last happy memory of his sister.
Her hand is on the doorknob, fingers curled around it and ready to twist it open, when the phone in the kitchen starts ringing. It doesn't startle her, doesn't make her jump, but she looks at it and it seems to ring louder and louder every time, like a siren, an omen. Good or bad, she doesn't know. She stares at the phone for a while because, shit, whoever is calling is not giving up and it just keeps ringing.
Without hesitation she twists open the doorknob and walks out of her small house.
Leah never looks back. She heads straight to her old Thunderbird - her father's old car and a gift to her when she turned eighteen - throws her bag in the back, and climbs into the car. She doesn't stop, her movements are fluid and continuous. She's starting the car, backing out of the short driveway, and is soon driving away, down the road, leading her away from home.
Far, far away she will go, and not once will Leah Clearwater look back.
But the phone in the kitchen just keeps ringing even as Leah furthers the distance between herself and her home. It's frighteningly loud, almost screaming, begging to be answered. Finally the rings stop and it's quiet.
His voice is husky, rough with anxiety and exhaustion. The peaceful, happy intonation in his voice, the one he never seems to be rid of ever since he imprinted, is gone and it's like it was never there. He sounds so tired, so lost.
"Leah, are you there? Please, pick up the phone. Look, I know things ended badly last time and I haven't been around or talked to you at all. I've been a real asshole, I know. But lately I've been feeling... different. I don't feel the same anymore, Leah. I don't know... I... I started thinking about everything you said. I-It didn't hit me until now but... it's so hard to explain but if you'll just pick up the phone. Leah, please, I... I really need you."
There is a pregnant silence and then Jacob sighs. It's so soft, so weak, but through the answering machine the sound is amplified and his painful heartache resonates throughout the cold, empty house.
A/N: I was listening to Apologize and this scenario kept playing over and over in my head. I knew it was a continuation of HTSAL so that's why I decided to write this. I'm going to continue this but as separate one-shots and not a multi-chapter fic. Honestly, I'd love to do it as a chapter fic but I am horrible with updating and I couldn't really develop a solid plot or storyline. This works better for me, I'm more comfortable writing one-shots instead of chapters (dunno how that works but, hey, I'm weird like that).