Perfectly Imperfect

A tiny wail ripped through the silence and pitch black that had settled in and around the Uley house, jarring Sam out of a just starting sleep and causing Emily to groan out of exhaustion. Just as she was about to swing her legs over the side of the bed to get up and tend to their daughter, a boiling hot hand gently but firmly held her fast to the bed.

"Don't worry, Em," Sam said as he made his way out of bed. "I'll get her this time."

"Are—are you sure?" Emily asked, trying to stifle the yawn that was on the verge of popping out of her mouth. "You should sleep…after all, you just got in from patrol—"

"—And you've been with her all day," Sam said, cutting off his exhausted wife's rationale and shooting her a small smile. "Get your rest, honey. You deserve it."

Before she could protest any further, Sam left the bedroom and went down the hall to his daughter's nursery, her tiny wails growing louder and louder as he got closer, reaching their peak when he was right beside her crib.

"Hey, Talia," he whispered, reaching down and picking up his week-old daughter. "It's okay, sweetheart. Daddy's here." As the little one wiggled and fussed in his arms, the impact of the words that he'd just spoken hit him like a ton of bricks.

Flashback

Sam kissed Emily on the top of the head before heading for the back door. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he said. Emily gave him a knowing smile before she turned back to the stove, whipping up her latest meal for the two boys who would soon be bounding into her kitchen.

"Sam?" Emily called out, catching him right before he exited the door. He turned, meeting her eyes with a questioning expression. "Be careful out there. And please…I know it's difficult but…could you try and maybe keep it quiet. I want us to tell everyone together." As she said the last part, she bit her lip and tried to hide the smile that was slowly creeping onto her face.

"I'll do my best," he said, giving her a wolfish grin of his own. "And try not to worry so much; it's not good for you…or anybody." He took off out the back door before Emily could say anything else and made his way into the forest. As soon as he was deep enough in the woods, he stripped himself of his clothing and stashed the items behind a tree. Within minutes, the familiar ripple shot through his spine like a mild seizure and he exploded into the familiar jet black form of his wolf. Almost as soon as he did, he was assaulted by the thoughts of Brady and Collin.

Dude, we thought you were never going to show, Brady reprimanded in his mind. We're starving!

Well, it's not like we can go anywhere, Collin thought glumly. Paul's not here, and we can't leave Sam alone.

Guys, Sam interjected before Brady and Collin could start damning Paul's existence for being late (like he was about to). It's okay. Go ahead and go to the house…I'll be fine on my own until Paul shows up.

You sure? Brady asked, trying to block the jubilation out of his thoughts at the prospect of getting his hands on some of Emily's cooking.

Sam tried not to mentally laugh. Yes. Now go, before I change my mind. Apparently, he didn't have to say that twice because the next thing he knew, his mind was completely devoid of any thoughts except his own. As he padded to the northern border, Sam ran over the day's events in his mind. He was still in complete shock over the fact that he was going to be a father but now, as the initial elation wore off, the fears that had nagged him ever since he'd gotten serious with Emily came bubbling to the surface, and with them, the memories that he often tried to keep at bay. The memories of the man that nature had deemed his father.

Countless images of Joshua Uley flowed through his mind. The many nights he'd come home drunk, smelling of cigar smoke and cheap perfume that probably had belonged to some slut from nearby Forks who had instantly fallen for his 'exotic, Native looks' (his mother's words, not his). The many afternoons where he was passed out on the couch, too hung over to give a damn about the fact that he'd missed yet another Elder's meeting or about playing catch with Sam even though he'd promised that he would. The many times that his mother sent him up to his room to play on his own so that he wouldn't be around to witness his parents' explosive arguments that often scared him so much that he cried himself to sleep.

And of course, there was the one memory that was the most difficult to face and still hurt to this day: the day that Joshua Uley had thrown in the towel and given his mother and him the ultimate "fuck you" and walked out of their lives for good on that Father's Day 19 years ago when he was just five years old.

Sam had been so caught up in the memories that he hadn't noticed Paul phase in and damned near jumped a foot in the air when Paul addressed him.

Why so many thoughts of the Ghost Man? Paul asked, using the nickname that Sam had asked everyone to use when referring to Joshua. For a moment, Sam debated lying or blocking his thoughts so that he could keep his fears personal and comply with Emily's wishes. In the end, however, he'd decided against it, knowing full well that if he didn't, Paul would nag him and possibly drag the others into it until he told.

I don't nag, Sam. I ask the same question repeatedly until I get the answers I need. Now, what gives?

Reluctantly, Sam opened his mind completely and Paul saw everything: The moment Emily had told him, his elation, the memories of Joshua, and the fears that he had buried deep within himself. Paul whined for a moment, completely taken aback by the overwhelming force of it all. He suddenly felt very sorry for the Cullen leech who felt emotions on a daily basis; who knew being one with your feelings could be so taxing?

Just forget I thought anything, then! Sam snapped, not in the mood to be compared with a leech, much less a Cullen leech that had no self control.

Hey, now wait a second, Boss. I never compared you to that leech; I value my life too much. Sam growled at this, but Paul pressed on. Seriously though…I don't know a lot about emotions, and the only thing I know about kids I have learned via Quil and Claire thanks to our lack of privacy. But here's what I do know. I know you. I know that you love Emily more than life itself and that you'd die before hurting her. I know that hate what Ghost Man put you through, and that you wouldn't be capable of inflicting that kind of pain (unless we're talking leeches). And I know that you're nothing like the Ghost. If you were, you'd have run away from perhaps your biggest responsibility a long time ago. Sam cocked his head, not sure what his Beta was talking about.

This, Paul said, replaying several memories of his own. Of when Sam had helped him and the others phase, of leading them into battle against Victoria, of the Alpha commands that he'd issued in the past. All of this. Even though you ran at first, when you finally figured out what was happening, you accepted it and never once have you walked away. It's not going to be easy, Sam. But knowing you, you'll take it all and you'll make it work. You're not the Ghost Man; you're 100 times more of a man than he ever was.

Sam was shocked and touched all at the same time; Paul had never been one for emotions and feelings, so to have this come from him was very moving…and kind of scary all at the same time.

You think you're scared? I think I must've lost my man card or maybe I've been spending WAY too much time with Rachel. Please, Sam, Paul begged. Don't tell the other guys about this or I will never live it down.

Sam barked a laugh. If you can keep the big news and my own freak out to yourself, you've got yourself a deal.

End Flashback

It was only after feeling Talia's tiny arm smack his chest in aggravation that Sam was snapped from his thoughts and he quickly went about trying to soothe her. He tried everything: changing her diaper (after which his appreciation for Emily went up about tenfold), laying her back in the crib and turning on the mobile, and swaddling her. When none of these worked, Sam carried Talia to the kitchen, praying to all the Quileute ancestors that a warm bottle would finally calm the restless child, and in turn, give him a chance to sleep.

Somehow, he was able to successfully get a prefilled bottle of formula warmed up all while holding Talia, who seemed to be saying, "Oh my God, can you please get this right before I go completely hoarse?" with every shrill cry. Finally, after an agonizing few minutes, the formula was warm (but not hot enough to scald, as was determined by the typical skin test). With a sigh, Sam placed the bottle in Talia's mouth.

For a moment, silence reigned supreme once more as Talia took a few halfhearted sucks of the bottle. However, just as quickly as the peace had come, it disappeared as Talia removed her mouth from the nipple, no longer satisfied with the bottle and her loud wails began again.

Sam quickly grabbed a burping cloth and slung it over his shoulder, gently shifting Talia so she was somewhat over his shoulder as well.

"Shhh, Talia, honey. It's okay, baby, it's okay," he said, gently patting her on the back. "It's okay, sweetie. You're okay. Shhh, burp for Daddy and relax, honey. Shhh, relax."

Unfortunately, Sam's prayers were not answered, for although the week-old newborn had indeed burped, she had not relaxed. Now, as her cries reached the same peak that they had when he'd first gone to tend to her, Sam felt his ever constant patience beginning to fray and his heart felt heavy. It was wrenching to have to hear her cry, and even more so when he knew that he was epically failing at being her comfort. The only other time he'd felt this helpless was right after Joshua had left them. Many a night had found his ear pressed to the wall that served for both his room and his mother's, listening helplessly as his mother cried.

Just as he was about to give up and go back to the bedroom to hand Talia off to a probably more rested Emily, he had a sudden stroke of inspiration. Ah hell, I've tried everything else. Nothing to lose with adding this to the list he thought as he gently pressed Talia to his chest and walked with her to the living room, which was still somewhat dark.

Sam quickly scanned room until his eyes rested on the I-Dock that was situated on a small table next to the television. As quietly as possible, he made his way over to the I-Dock and, after making sure that the volume was down low enough to not disturb Emily (who he was certain would come in at any given moment and tear Talia from his grasp, cursing him to high heaven for letting her baby cry for so long), he put on the song that he and Emily had danced to at their wedding.

As Beyonce's voice streamed through the speakers singing the opening verse of 'Halo,' Sam gently swayed side to side with Talia pressed against his chest, occasionally kissing her tiny, tan cheek and whispering lyrics of the song to her. With every sway and shuffle across the living room floor, Talia's cries got lower and lower until the only thing he could hear were her small, even breaths and 'Halo.'

Just as he heard Beyonce belt out, I can feel your halo halo halo, he pressed a kiss to the top of Talia's head and a flash of light went off. Temporarily blinded, his muscles tensed and he blinked his eyes quickly, looking for source of the unexpected light. When his eyes were able to re-focus, his eyes locked on Emily, who was standing at the entrance of the living room. A small smile was on her lips and her eyes were sparkling.

"What are you doing up?" he half whispered as Emily crossed the room.

"I just came to see how you were holding up. When I saw you dancing with Talia, I couldn't resist," she said, holding up the digital camera. Sam chuckled lightly and Emily put her arms around him and her daughter.

After a moment, she locked eyes with Sam, who was alternating between gazing at her and at Talia. "Congratulations, Daddy," Emily whispered. Sam shot her a quizzical look, not having a clue what she was talking about.

"Happy first Father's Day, Sam. You're amazing," Emily said, reaching up to kiss Sam on the lips.

As he stood in the darkened living room, his daughter pressed to his chest and his wife wrapped around him, he thought back to all the trial and error that it had taken him to get to that state of peace they were in. Briefly, his mind wandered back to his fears and he quickly pushed them aside as he gave Emily another kiss. "I try, baby. I try."

"That's all we ask."

A/N: I sincerely hope that you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it! Special thanks go out to Miss Adrenaline for being my happy muse and supporting me when the writer's block overwhelmed me. I only own Talia and the plot; everyone and everything else belongs to S. Meyer. Please leave me some reviews! I'd love to hear from you!