Just a quick heads-up: this is somewhat of a drabble-fic, so the chapters may vary drastically in length. I'm writing this, other than the fact I simply wanted to, to see how everything works and how my writing is before posting some of my bigger works. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy!

Rating M: Course language

CHAPTER ONE: Man's Best Friend


"What do you mean, I can't see my friends?"

"It's an order. I can't risk you shifting on a human—it's too dangerous. The stakes are…too high."

"So tell them I'm going on vacation—don't make me crush their fucking hearts!"

"Cool it," he warned, and I knew better than to respond to that one. Already I could feel the tremors, the growing shivers that weren't inspired from the chill rising off the tile floor.

"Fuck," I muttered, closing my eyes and trying to still my body. It was like trying not to puke on the floor; I knew it was coming, and the more I wished it wouldn't happen, the more I thought it would, the harder it was to fight off.

"Outside!" he barked, and two sets of arms were already seizing me, dragging me forcefully from the kitchen and outside onto the porch and into the rain. It was raining, always raining. For some reason (God only knows why) but the weather pissed me off more than it ever had.

Because it was La Push. Because it was something that never changed. Because I could never escape the wet and cold and my friends still could—the ones who I was supposed to abandon for however fucking long Sam Uley and his disciples ordered me to.

Because I was utterly and permanently stuck here in this miserable-fucking-wasteland and I knew my oldest and dearest friends were too.

I crumpled in two on the grass. Sam was coaxing me through it, telling me not to fight it, I wasn't strong enough. I snarled and snapped, fighting his orders, his very will, just to prove to myself that I still could.

I couldn't, of course.

Within seconds, I was bursting at the seams of my own skin, and the flesh fell apart to make way for fur. My bones snapped and mended into a new form. It hurt like a bitch, but nothing, nothing was worse than the jaw. I couldn't decide if it was the jaw stretching, the teeth lengthening, or the skull literally molding into a new form with new eye socket positioning and new cheek bone structure.

I stood for a moment on all fours, panting, breathing deep and hard. I saw them in my mind—laughing and chatting in the garage, cliff diving, hanging out at the café up the road, sharing pizza, passing notes in class, making fun of Sam fucking Uley and his goddamn posse. Embry Call, with his quiet derisive sarcasm that pissed me off as much as it made me laugh so hard I nearly wet myself. Quil Ateara, the cocky egoistical sonofabitch who literally made me want to throttle him, he was that stupid but easy-going and just funny. Jacob Black, who I had grown up next to, and was quite possibly the most incredibly naïve, sweet and gentle guy I'd ever met, who never did anything half-hearted and who loved with his entire fucking soul.

I never loved like that.

Well, not often, anyways.

I had a life when I was with them. I had fun when I was with them. I loved them and Sam Uley wanted me to walk all over their little hearts and positively trample them. What was I supposed to do? What was the right thing here?

Damned if I did, damned if I didn't.

I knew Sam's warnings were true, just as I knew I had no choice but to follow them. I saw Emily's scars, I saw the guilt Sam carried every day. I wanted my friends, but I didn't want that. I didn't want that on anyone, even Sam, who had freaked the shit out of me and my friends for the last few months, looking at us like he was waiting, waiting for us to cave and crawl to him like a bunch of pussy-footed cowards. I didn't want in on his drug-gang, his cult, his freakish body-building regime. I was happy with my body—a nice waist with an ass that was a little too big and boobs that were a little too small, but hey, no one's perfect.

I was happy with my life. I had a plan, a weak one but a good one. Graduate with my friends, go to college, take some business courses and handle the management of Jacob Black's Auto Shop.

Yeah, life was solid-had been, until I started exploding into a werewolf.

It's not so impossible, Sam said calmly—no, he thought that. The whole, 'wolves share everything' bullshit didn't really fly with me. I gritted my teeth and shoved as big a wall as I could against Sam's curious little mind. Wasn't my problem he didn't have anything better to do.

Don't be so callous, he scolded, and I was only grateful it wasn't an order. I hated being ordered to do things. If I didn't take them from my parents, why they hell should I follow Sam?

Sam let out a low growl. Paul and Jared were watching from the sidelines, ushering us silently into the cover of the forest where no one would see us. Didn't really care if they did. It wasn't my problem my body had some gene encoded in my DNA or some shit like that, that made me explode into a wolf. Really, what's the big deal?

I hope that's not a serious question, Sam noted dryly. I snarled, and he gave as good (coughbettercough) as he got.

Go run the trail 50 times. Don't stop until you've finished.

Greaaaat, just what I wanted. I scowled, barking out my anger as I turned tail and ran like no tomorrow.

Of all the things that came with wolfing out, so to speak, I liked this one the best. The speed was…exhilarating. I'd never, in all my years of cliff-diving, biking and horseback riding, had ever felt this incredible. It was like being lightning, like I was embodying the very essence of warp speed.

It was muthafucking awesome.

Glad you're pleased, a cool voice noted. Jared, the least-terrible one of all. Thanks! That wasn't a compliment. But he was still gloating, still happy to be the favourite one.

Ugh shut up shut up shut up! Paul Lahote, bane of my existence. I had it on good word that he'd slept with Stacy Brets whilst "dating" (i.e. sleeping with) my slut of a sister—I mean, good ol' Kyrie Spencer. Whatever. We don't get along, but it's the principle of the issue. He cheated on my big sister—not cool, in any good siblings' books. Not that I was a good sibling, but…you get the point.

Dude, your sister was weird. Clingy little bitch. At once I turned on my heel and went to lunge for the rat-bastard, but Sam's order kept me tied. Damn. I so wanted to sink my teeth in him.

Try it, pup, he growled smoothly, I ain't got a problem hitting a girl. Not that you really count anyways.

I let out a bellowing snarl, and at once, Paul's voice vanished as Sam's returned.

Forty-three left, Spencer. Keep running.

Bite me, Uley.

Don't tempt me, Spencer, now move it.

I felt my paws pump faster, move harder against the earth. I was exhausted and angry and absolutely miserable. I guess running may have been the best way to settle down…

Glad you agree.

Ugh! Get lost! I begged, wishing I could close my eyes and open them and have this be nothing but one messed-up nightmare…

Don't we all… Jared grumbled bitterly. It's all that this was. A big fucking nightmare.

It had started out terrifying and it became worse—now it was the biggest thorn in my side. I hated being a wolf. First the random phases, now the no-friends rule? What a load of shit.

We already have one potty mouth, please don't be the second, Sam begged. He sounded tired. Aww…poor Sam. Tired? Try running fifty laps.

You know you could stop if you asked, Jared pointed out. Sam said nothing but I knew he was silently confirming the hint.

Sure I could. But I'd have to ask. And that grated on my nerves like anything else. Sam mentally rolled his eyes and Jared snorted.

I am sorry you have to ditch your friends, Sam said suddenly. You could tell what he was actually saying instead of thinking, because it was clearer than thoughts. Thoughts are jumbled, primal, basic words. Hungry, food, shower, homework, piss, and any other sort could pop up. Of course, with Paul patrolling with you, boobs, sex and beer are most likely to appear, and not really in that order, either, the dirty little perv.

It's not permanent, he added, ignoring my monologue. Jake, Embry and Quil are going to phase, sooner or later.

Yeah but how soon? How late? I didn't even want to think about what it would be like when the group dwindled down to the last member of our quartet, going it solo as a human. My heart clenched.

Beyond my fears of leaving them alone, I knew deep down, however badly I wanted my friends, I didn't want this life for them. Quil was supposed to do something with his genius science work—although who'd have guessed with the dumbass things that come out of that boy's mouth. Jake was supposed to go to college and learn the ins and outs of cars (whatever was left for him to learn anyways—the boy rebuilt a Rabbit for Christ's sake). Embry was supposed to do something with his talent for writing, or some sensitive shit like that. He was like the girl of the group—which I took no offense to whatsoever.

I am so telling him that when he phases, Jared thought suddenly, smirking. Damn it. Apparently my thoughts weren't as good at being basic primal words as theirs were. My mind came across much clearer than the rest. I grumbled under my breath, scowling.

Nobody screws with my boys' heads except me, I snapped, gnashing my teeth furiously. Fuck, if Jared said one syllable to any of them—

Calm down, Spencer, Sam orders. I howl my frustration. Enough with the Spencer shit—even I didn't call Sam, "Uley" anymore. He could at the very least call me by my given name.

You're right, Sam thought, and it was much gentler than anything he'd said so far. I'm sorry, Lucille.

HELL NO! I bark, horrified. Lucy. Lucy, or nothing at all. Got it?

Sam was amused. Laughing, or would have been, had he been in human form. Jared snickered too. Asses, the pair of them. How dare he call me Lucille… I ought to kill the nurse who signed that on my certificate and rip the slip to shreds. Wonder how hard it'd be to break in…

Sam, still laughing, the moron, said, Afraid I'm gonna' have to order you not to kill the nurse, Lucy. Strict policies on the rez, and all.

Strict policies my foot. He just wanted to rub it in.

Whatever Samuel, I grumbled. He laughed harder and I finished up my last lap, panting and more than ready to crash on my bed, so long as my mom was still at work and my dad hadn't brought his secretary home to "file some records" (hot sweaty terrible smell go check what it is Dad Amanda bed nude). I shook the memory from my head, and the two guys were nice enough not to say anything.

Go home and sleep, Sam agreed, and I took it for the advice it was. I was still sore, still tired and still angry, but I was too much of everything to feel it all at once. Now, I could only focus on the exhaustion that wasn't just from the run I did but from the bone-deep tension that filled me, the dread of facing my friends come Monday. Life was gonna suck.

It'll be ok, Lucy, Sam promised, as I phased back, shaking and ready to vomit. Remember that.

Easy for him to say. He already had his friends back with him again.

Naked as the day I was born, I ran for home. As I'd suspected, Mom was working late and Dad was crashed unconscious at the kitchen table. Kyrie was out who knows where doing I-don't-wanna-know-what with whoever she wanted. So I was alone.

The way I liked it.

I curled up on my bed and laid my head in my hands. How was I supposed to leave Jake, Quil and Embry? They'd never buy it. They'd never believe that I would just join Sam and his little steroid-cult, not after all the shit I'd said about them.

Moreover, how the hell was I going to actually squish my own heart and break theirs? I wasn't the only thing their world revolved around, sure, but I liked to think I was a relatively important person to them. And I knew them better than anyone else in the world, that much was fact. Who was going to comfort Jake when Bella Swan stepped on his feelings—again? Who was going to keep sensitive-Embry from letting his anger get the best of him when the seniors made jabs at his single mother—again? Who was going to keep Quil from getting his head stuck in a chair—again? (No joke—sounds funny, but he had nightmares for a fucking week, which of course meant calling me and bugging me at 3 AM).

Worst of all, I knew how much it was going to scare them. If I was joining them…how long before the rest of them followed?

I ignored the painful clench around my heart as I remembered Emily's horrible scars. It was the one thing I couldn't use against Sam. I'd seen the level of love, of devotion he felt for her. And no matter how crazy I thought imprinting was, I wasn't blind. I knew Sam loved Emily desperately and she felt the same for him. I knew it killed Sam to look at her angry pink scars and think, This is my fault.

So I had to choose: break my heart? Or risk their life?

What a stupid question…

I fell asleep crying that night, with nothing but the sound of howling wolves to comfort me and my achy breaky heart.