Work Text:
DÉJÀ VU
A man and a woman stood on a hill overlooking a beach, watching a young couple sitting together on the sand, looking out into the waves, hands held together.
Then the woman turned to the man, a serious look on her face, and asked him,
"Isn't this familiar?"
He said nothing.
But sure enough, one week later, it all started.
It was only a week ago that you were happy. You had the love of your life. You had a great family. You had a future. You were going to get married and have a family, go to college, see the world alongside the one you loved. Everything was wonderful.
Then your cousin came for a visit and your love suddenly found her more interesting. He never stopped staring at her. When you tried to get his attention, it was like he didn't even see you. He just kept gaping at her with such a look of awe. You were so angry. Why did he keep looking at her with such a blind look of adoration in his eyes? Especially when you were right there!
And your cousin, your sister figure, was making googly eyes right back at him! Right in front of you! Did she have no shame? Didn't she care that you were together with him?
Not for much longer, apparently, as it wasn't even thirty minutes after she left that the man you loved came to you and broke it off in favor of your cousin.
You cried.
You begged.
You asked him why.
He just shrugged and walked away, saying it couldn't be helped. You just weren't "the one".
It was imprinting, you are later told by your father. He didn't have a choice. So he was justified in this.
But you tell him, you didn't have a choice either!
Your dad just shakes his head, telling you imprinting was special. It's like a blind person seeing the sun for the first time. He tells you that your now ex still cares for you, but just cannot be without your cousin because she's his imprint.
"If he loves me, why didn't he fight?" You ask him, tears falling.
He just stares at you for several long moments.
"That's not possible."
"Why not?"
"Why couldn't he have tried?" You demand. "If he loves me and it's just the imprint making him go after her, couldn't he break it?"
"It's still in there somewhere! It has to be. Feelings can't just disappear like that! Not in the span of a second!"
You cry. "He loves me! I know he does! I mean, after everything we had, everything we went through together? It can't go away just like that! He has to still love me! He can break it for me!"
Your father looks away, fists clenched.
"Wasn't I worth at least trying for?"
"He'd try for me, won't he?" You asks your father, tearfully. Begging. PLEADING for him to say yes.
This man, your own father says nothing. He simply stands up from his chair and walks away, not looking at his own daughter as she breaks down into sobs. He never wanted to see THAT look...that LOOK he still remembered so very well from so long ago had returned in the face of his own daughter.
"Isn't this familiar?"
It hasn't even been a month and the pain was still as great as it was that first day. Only worse, because now it's official that they're together. And you're left crying once again into the same pillow you've been sobbing into every night since that day.
You're broken and you're bleeding inside, but everyone is too concerned with the happy couple to notice your pain.
But they give you looks.
They look at you with pity for being a shell of your former self.
They look at you with annoyance for trying to remind them of your presence and what they did to you to get to where they're at.
They look at you with frustration because you're interfering with their romantic bliss and it's showing them that they aren't necessarily as wonderful and perfect as they like to pretend they are.
Everyone looks at you with SOMETHING.
But they don't look at you with understanding. Or acceptance. Or care.
Because the truth is that you're the victim—however much you hate the thought. You're the one who was hurt and they're the ones who did it to you and got off better for it. But the most upsetting thing about it all is that the ones who did it weren't just anyone, they were your cousin and the love of your life. They were people you loved, the ones you would have given so much for.
But they just betrayed you. And they don't even CARE.
They don't care that they betrayed your trust and love. They don't care that you're hurt and still trying to piece together the broken remnants of what was once your heart.
But they look at you with eyes full of pity, acting like it's a sad event that occurred which they had no part in, and say they're sorry—but not because they actually are. You know that full well. Because if they were truly sorry, they wouldn't still be doing this to you. They would be actually trying to fix things somehow, to make up for it or to make things right. But they don't even try. They just flatly tell you they're sorry about what happened like it's something they can't help, then simply turn away and go back to their sappy-crappy romance, leaving you behind without a second thought. As if a simple sorry makes it all okay. Makes it hurt any less.
And you look back on it all and realize that they honestly don't give a damn. Not about you. Not about what happened to you. Not about your feelings or how what they did affected you. No. They say "sorry" like it's some end-all be-all cure that will magically excuse what they did. And then suddenly everyone is looking at you like you're the one to blame for the situation. That your misery and heartbreak is your own fault because you wouldn't accept a false apology you know was only fed to you so they wouldn't have to feel guilty. Because if what happened couldn't be their fault, then surely it had to be your own.
Then suddenly you realize that the one everyone sees as the victim in this event isn't you—it's THEM. They're the poor, poor victims for having to deal with the "harpy" glaring over their shoulders at the happy romance she can't be part of because she's too bitter. Nevermind that you weren't like this before. Nevermind that they hurt you and caused this. Nevermind that it hasn't even been all that long since it happened and the two of them are going on as though they had always been together and you were never part of the equation. As though the years of friendship with her and all the time you spent with him didn't mean a damn thing.
And it feels like not even a day has passed since the breakup before you hear people whisper behind your back. Everyone looks at you with fake pity, referring to you by cruel names when they know full well you can hear.
"Harpy."
"Bitter."
"Bitch."
And you just want to scream the truth at them—at the world for everyone to hear. He was the one who made you promises to love you and then left you for your cousin! She was the one who swore she'd stand by you, only to take him when she knew full well how you still felt. And nobody—not one person understands or even tries to.
So you're left alone and miserable in a world that sees you as the source of the problem rather than the result. And you've just gotten so tired of crying and waiting for someone else to see that.
"Bitch."
Once again, you hear someone whisper from somewhere behind you. And finally—finally you have had enough. You wipe the tears away and decide to yourself that if they really want it so bad, you'll show them just what a real bitch is.
It must have been cosmic irony, or just fate laughing at you when you became one literally as well.
It was as though the nightmare that your life had become just wasn't bad enough on its own. You had to have their relationship shoved in your face, now it's also going to be shoved in your head. Your big, furry, wolfy head.
That night you first phased, he received a phone call. "You're making a huge mistake, Sam." And he rolled his eyes and hung up, then turned back to Emily without a care.
It's a month later that your mom has finally had enough after you make your cousin burst into tears with your sharp tongue and harsh words yet again.
"Why do you have to make it so difficult for them?" She demands, full of self-righteousness and acting like she has the slightest idea of how you're feeling and finding it silly that you would actually feel this way. You can tell that she's angry and just doesn't know how to deal with you and how you're acting about this anymore. Not that she ever did.
And maybe you're wrong and this isn't the way you should be reacting to the situation. You remember when you could talk to your mom about anything. And she was just so perfect. Everyone else thought so, too, and you always felt you were so lucky that she was your mom. The best mom in the world.
But then the man you loved left you and your cousin waltzed right in and took him without batting an eye, and it seemed that your heartache wasn't limited to being inflicted by them. Even your own mother, who you had believed for sure would be on your side, found it so easy to stick the knife in further. When she heard they would be marrying so soon after they first met and got together, she was squealing and cooing and going on about how wonderful it was. And weren't they just PERFECT for each other? And when was the wedding and would her old wedding dress fit on the new bride...
And you just wanted to SCREAM. At her. At them.
Hello? Aren't they forgetting about someone? You're standing RIGHT here! What about you? YOU'RE her daughter! Isn't she supposed to be supporting YOU? Why is she so excited for the two people who hurt you?
But it was like you weren't even THERE. It was getting hard to tell whose mother she was supposed to be.
It's only after everyone else left that she turned to you with that old smile of hers that used to make you feel warm and loved but now just made you want to rip it off her face. "Sorry for getting carried away," she tells you. "But it's just so wonderful, isn't it?"
You stared at her, disbelieving.
And you realized then that she was no better than everyone else. No better than those people whispering and pointing. No better than the former mutual friends who have all sided with the new relationship. No better than THEM.
And you told her. "No. No, it's not."
"You ignore it so you can pretend it wasn't wrong. But it was nothing less than betrayal."
And she looked at you in surprise, as though she honestly expected—hoped?—that you would say otherwise.
Now it's a month later and she's giving you another lecture, yet again. As though it's some terrible offense that you actually be unhappy about any of this. You tune her out. You've heard it all before, it practically sounds rehearsed now.
"She's your cousin. You should try to be happy for her."
"She's family. Why do you have to be so hard on her?"
"They can't help it."
"It's not their fault."
"It's true love."
"It's true love."
And something inside you snaps and you shout at her. "It's not true love! He's only with her because of the imprint making him! He wouldn't have left me for her otherwise!"
"If it's true love, then why did it take imprinting to force it to happen?"
Suddenly, your mom looks worried—scared? But somehow, you know it's not for you. "It was meant to be." She insists, and you wonder if it's you she's talking to anymore. She sounds like a broken record—and you suddenly find it hard to equate the person before you now as the mother you've always known. "You can't fight that kind of devotion." And you realize she's defending HER, and you're furious again.
"You didn't even try, did you? It was all just for show."
"She could have." You tell her.
"I guess I can see now how much I was really worth to you. If I had known you'd end up this way, I would have been better off never knowing you."
"If she had really cared about me as much as she claims she did. If she was really as sorry as she pretends to be. If she had given a DAMN about me at all, she would have TRIED. Just as I would have tried for her. Because we cared about each other more than that—at least, I know I did." You shrug, drained.
"You are so...selfish."
"Apparently, she felt differently."
"You say we're family as though it means something while expecting out of me what you are not willing to give yourself. You. Hypocrite."
"Real family wouldn't do that. It's easy to claim 'family' when you're not the one having to lose anything. If 'family' was really so important, she should have stood by me then, just as you all expect me to stand by her now."
"You are no kin of mine. I wash my hands of you."
"I've had it. I'm done. That whore is no family of mine, and she can go rot with her two-timing hubby-to-be for all I care."
Your mother sputters and gapes at you, blankly, trying but failing to speak. Seeing that she was lost in her own little world, you turn away. She watches you walk out the door, seeing and unseeing.
"Isn't this familiar?"
Mother demands, "She's your family, you should be happy for her."
Father claims, "It's complicated. He can't fight it."
And everyone tells you, "Get over it already."
"It's destiny."
"It's meant to be."
"It's true love."
"You just don't understand."
It's so easy for everyone to tell you it's for the best, but nobody cares to see that you're crying.
Nobody cares to hear your screams.
And isn't it all just so very familiar...
Everyone sends dark looks and whispers "Bitch" under their breaths behind your back where you can easily hear them.
But nobody—not one person so much as asks, "Are you okay?"
And all you want is for someone to just look at you. Someone to actually stand up for you and ask, "What about her? What about her feelings? Her happiness?"
But nobody does.
And you want to break something.
But you can't. Not without phasing and letting everyone else in on the privacy of your mind. And more than being angry, more than wanting to cause harm, you just want to be left alone.
So you're sitting out on the cliffs, looking out into the sunset and thinking. Then as if out of nowhere, right when you needed it least or most, someone comes out and sits next to you. You don't care who it is or why they're there, until they start talking.
"It sucks. Doesn't it?"
And you recognize the presence as that person. You were never close. You weren't told many good things about her. You've never even really spoken with her, and she'd usually avoid you as well. Yet somehow, as she sits herself down next to you on that cliff and begins to speak, you realize that she—out of everyone you know—is able to relate to you better than anyone else has even tried to.
Then she tells you a story.
It's a story of a young couple happy and in love. Then the boy fell under a curse to transform into a monster, but the girl loved him anyway and remained by his side. But there was a second part of the curse that caused the boy to become bonded to another girl who was like a sister to the first. He left the girl for this other, and the other, rather than stay loyal to her friend, returned his affections and became his lover. They waltzed off into their happily ever after, forgetting the girl and ignoring her pain, leaving her alone in sadness and misery.
You listen. And suddenly it all makes sense.
"Isn't this familiar?"
You wipe away a tear. You aren't the first. And you doubt you will be the last. They'll just keep making the same mistakes over and over again. And you find that to be incredibly cruel and wonder if perhaps it's some sort of karma, either for wrongs in your past, or to make up for those of others. But even though you try, you can't find anything that could possibly justify what has been done to you.
"That's because there isn't anything that can justify it—mystical bond or not. They may not have been able to help the imprint, but they could certainly help their actions. And when it comes down to it, they simply chose not to." She looks at you. "You have every right to feel hurt and angry."
You never thought it would feel so good to hear just one person say that to you, but it does, because you finally feel like you're not completely alone in this. There's at least one person on your side, even as your friends, your family, and the rest of the world says you're the one with the problem. The pain is still there, but you notice—for the first time since this began, that it is slightly more bearable now. So you ask that person, "Does it ever stop hurting?"
And that person—who is the first and only one to truly understand you, to say "I'm sorry" and honestly MEAN it because she actually does know what you're going through—she looks at you in the eyes and tells you, "No. It won't."
Because it's more than losing the one you love. It's more than the one you love finding someone else. It's more than your so-called sister taking what you felt should have been your happiness for herself. It's more than you being left without someone to love and stuck on the sidelines watching others get what you so desperately want. Down to the deepest part of your core, you understand the truth of the pain.
They abandoned you. They all did. Everyone. And all for something that you had no control in.
It was an absolute betrayal of two people you loved—a betrayal that was waved off, excused, and outright condoned by those around you as acceptable because it is supposed to be "true love" and you were just in the way.
And somehow, in their eyes, you deserved it.
You are a victim, and yet everyone is intent on setting you in the role of the villain—the bad guy, the obstacle for the lovers to overcome so as to obtain their happy ending and experience true love. To them, him leaving you for your cousin was your own fault, like you did something bad to cause it other than invite her to your house while he was there.
All because you needed time to heal and someone to stand by you and they couldn't let you have THAT either, all siding with the happy couple and having to shove it in your face constantly to try and FORCE you to be okay with it. Because they didn't know how to act towards you. Because they didn't want to admit they felt guilty or have to bother with the effort of working things out with you when everything else has magically been fixed up perfectly for them. And somehow, you’re still expected to forgive it all, because they are too ignorant to know any better and too lazy to try for anything better. Since everything else was simply handed to them, they don’t seem to know how to actually try for anything for themselves. They either don’t realize or simply don’t care about the consequences of their actions, and if you or anyone else end up hurt because of what they do...well, apparently that’s your problem. And so it's been your problem, with you considered the problem.
And you just can't stand by and take it anymore.
The happy couple who hurt you without a thought. The friends who ignored you without a care. The family who turned from you without a shred of guilt...like deep scars, that pain will never fully fade. Even if you are able to move on and find someone new—even someone better for you than HE ever was—that doesn't change what they did. Nor does it change how your friends and family—how everyone else you knew, everyone you THOUGHT you could count on—all sided against you and held you as the wrongful party simply for how you feel about it. Time may lessen the pain...but it won't erase it completely. Because nothing will ever allow you to forget their willing betrayal.
"So if it never gets better...and the pain never goes away...then what do you do? What can you do?"
She answers, "Whatever you want. Whatever it takes for you to heal."
You think about that for a moment. What do you want to do?
You don't know. You haven't gotten to really think about it. So you ask her.
"What did you do?"
She looks at you.
And smiles.
Leah's leaving La Push today. For good.
Sam is standing outside her room, watching her pack. Her mother can't look at her without bursting into tears, and her brother is in the other room by her side, trying to console her as the older woman begins to cry yet again.
She ignores him. Ignores what is happening everywhere else, and continues to place her clothes and belongings carefully into a bag. It sends an ache through his heart that she is intentionally leaving behind all the pictures and personal items that tie her to them. To him.
And he feels something nagging at him in the back of his mind, but ignores it and speaks to her.
"You can't just leave like this." Sam tells her.
"Stay. Please."
"I can't stay anymore."
"No, Sam. I'm sick of this. Sick of the glares. The smirks. The whispers and names. I'm sick of everyone asking me why I'm so bitter when they already damn well know the answer. And I'm sick of you and Emily acting like you did nothing wrong."
Sam runs a hand through his hair, tiredly.
"Please. Just...tell me what you want me to do!"
"What would it take to keep you here?"
She spins around and glares at him. "Fix it."
"Break it."
Sam shudders, shaking his head. "You know I can't, Leah!"
"I can't. You know I can't do that."
"Tell me you tried."
"Tell me you're willing to try. Tell me you love me that much."
Sam looks away. "I'm sorry. I can't lie to you."
"I won't lie to you again."
"Then tell me you're on my side!" She shouts. "Tell me that imprinting is messed up! Tell me it's a mistake! That it's wrong! That it's not true love!" She looks him in the eyes, some trace of hope still there. "Tell me you're sorry it ever happened! Tell me it should never have happened!”
"Tell me you would choose me. Tell me you don't want to be with her. That it's a mistake and you wish it never happened. Tell me you're sorry you ever saw her that day."
He stares at her, helplessly. "You just don't understand!" He shouts, his words echoing a distant memory.
"You just don't understand! Imprinting is stronger than that!"
She closes her eyes with a silent sigh, disappointed yet again. "No. I do understand." She picks up her bags and walks past him.
"No. You're just weaker than that."
And she turns back one final time and really looks at him.
And he suddenly feels cold.
He knows those eyes. Those aren't her loving eyes he remembers. That's not her kind face set in a scowl sent in his direction, looking at him with such disgust.
Because it's not just her looking at him anymore.
It's her, too.
"Goodbye, Sam."
"Goodbye, Dad."
With that, 19 year old Leah Uley turns her back on him, and like a double image, he sees her walk away in the footsteps of another so very like her. Disappearing into the shadow of the one after whom she was named.
And in his mind he thinks back...
"Isn't this familiar...?"
So Sam Uley continues to stand there, watching his daughter walk away from him, just as his forsaken love did so many years before. And something inside is screaming at him so loud and shrill that he wants to scream himself. Scream and rage and cry and fall and fall and never stop.
Dé
Because he finally understands.
Jà
This has happened before.
Vu
And the circle remains unbroken.