He stood at the entrance to the trees for a long time. It was only a thin strip of forest, about a half a mile wide, with a well beaten path that he could trudge with his eyes closed. The path also represented a fern lined timeline of his life, and he wasn't sure if he was ready to look back yet. The fort he'd built with Jared in grade school was being reclaimed by the forest. At first he fought it, replacing boards and adding tin to the roof, but there were some things that needed to be let of to disappear into the past.

Emily grinned at the tire swing while they barbequed on a lazy Sunday and gave it a gently nudge. Always so gentle. "Push me?" she called across the yard.

The smile disappeared from Sam's face and he heard Leah's strangled breath behind him on the porch. She sat on his back steps with her legs stretched out as she always had when there was a little sunlight breaking through the clouds. He regained his smile and shook his head, turning the sausages without looking up. "No one's been on that swing for a long time. The branch has seen better days. Been trying to keep the whole thing from falling apart, but it's too rickety."

"Then just let it go," Leah hissed, standing, letting the door slam behind her when she disappeared inside.

The rest of the pack groused, muttering complaints they would never say in her presence. Except Jared. He eyed his friend sympathetically over his cup. He knew.

And Seth. His little Seth, whose hero worship had transferred to Jacob and Cullen, was torn between loyalties. He regarded Sam almost fearfully now. He looked between Sam and the house until Sam nodded - it's okay. The boy's shoulders relaxed and Sam plopped a sausage on a plate and added relish and mustard. It was how Leah always had hers. Seth smiled softly and grabbed the plate along with his and ran around to the front where he knew his sister was.

He had let it go.

The paint was chipping and a few boards were hanging from the platform by a few rusty nails. The ladder was still sturdy though. Harry Clearwater had brought some lumber and a tool belt the summer Sam's dad took off. "I'll get you started," Harry said, his larger hands engulfing Sam's small ones while they held the board steady and he helped guide the hammer. "You can finish it. I know you want to hit something, and that's okay. But clobbering the Cameron boy isn't something I'll allow, even if I'm not your dad. Whenever you're angry, you come out here with this hammer and build something. Construction not destruction. And you're going to do it with Jared."

Sam swallowed, remembering the dearest man he'd ever known. He'd dragged Harry over to show him once they were finished and Leah trailed behind her father. Her eyes lit up and Harry had grinned, giving the tire swing a nudge and winked. "Nice touch. Procured from Billy, I presume?"

Sam only grinned and then held it, telling Leah to hop on.

Over the years, the fort had seen its fair share of use and abuse. From going to second base with Leah the first time, to Seth, the little shadow, being knocked backward and to the ground while the older boys roughhoused. Sam barely remembered picking up the screaming eight year old, and flying through the woods to the Clearwater house, not even taking the path. Sam was sure they'd killed him and was hiding at the scene of the crime when Harry showed. "The bouncing baby boy bounces," he called. "He's alright, Sam. Let me see you."

He slowly scooted to the edge and let his feet dangle. "It's all my fault," he said miserably.

"It was Jared's elbow," Harry said wryly. "You take on to much responsibility. It's a broken arm it'll heal. I know you'd never intentionally hurt him. Though I'd say you boys are getting too big to be all piled up there."

Sighing, he gave the tire a gentle pat and brushed past. The path was still worn, but the lack of use in the past year was showing. Like the fort, it was being overtaken by the dense foliage. The last time he cut through to the Clearwater house this way was the night he broke up with Leah. He left her crying on the porch with tears down his own cheeks, trying to make it to the tree line without phasing. He managed to stay in control, but paced all night just out of sight of the house, wrestling with his soul. Leah didn't sleep that night either, he watched her pace and stare out her window as if she could see him staring back. Maybe she was trying to see him, find him, like he knew she had the weeks he was missing.

Sam called her and Jared as soon as he could after walking out of the woods. He was pretty sure she left the receiver dangling when she heard his voice. He found out later Sue had to grab Seth by the back of the shirt to keep him from following. He met her halfway when she crashed into him. "I'm sorry," he whispered into her neck. She was crying and slapping at him, but there was no heat behind the strikes. She ran her hand through his recently shorn hair, his old strands still on his bathroom floor and sink with brambles tangling them. With his new hearing, he heard Jared yelling for him when his piece of shit care screeched to a halt in his yard, getting closer as he called. He knew where he'd be.

Only a handful of weeks later, Harry would stumble across him crouched on a log.

"Is she okay?"

The older man nearly jumped out of his skin and dropped the flashlight he wielded. "You nearly gave me a heart attack, Samuel!"

Sam wrung his hands. "Is she?"

Harry eyed him. "She will be."

Sam nodded and sunk down on his haunches and held his head in his hands. "I'm sorry," he sobbed.

Harry gripped the back of his neck and squeezed. "I know. I know you'd never intentionally hurt her. I'm the one that's sorry."

He fought the lump in his throat that still burned. He hadn't ventured here since. It was no longer his place to fly into the yard and throw open the back door like he owned the place. Now he knocked or rang, taking the extra time to take the road. He paused for strength when the little home came into view. Seth was waiting for him on the porch, knowing he was there before he materialized.

The kid was nervous, but crossed his arms. Sam kept his in his pockets to show no aggression. "Where's Leah?" he asked as he approached.

"Not here."

"Surliness doesn't suit you." They stared each other down as Sam climbed the steps slowly, in a predatory manner, as only an alpha can.

Seth uncrossed his arms and stepped back, stood his ground and glared at him. His hands shook though. "I'm not going to let you hurt my sister."

Sam froze. "What?"

Seth clenched his fists. "You stay away from her. I'm not going to let you hurt her."

"Seth, that is the last thing I ever wanted to do."

"Bullshit!"

"Hey!" Sam grabbed him by the shirt front. "Not out of you."

The two glared at each other until the fight left the younger one. "Just go, Sam. You don't belong here anymore."

"Seth…"

"I said go!" He backed away and pointed as he spoke. "You left us, so I left you!"

Sam was angry again. "What?" he growled.

"You left us!"

"I never left! I've always been right here! I didn't get to leave! I didn't get to go to college, I didn't get to marry your sister, I didn't get to say goodbye to Harry! I've been here! You left the pack."

He'd taken a step toward the boy with every word and Seth was now backed into the railing. Seth was defiant though, clearly a Clearwater trait. "We were family before there ever was a pack," he said, quietly.

Sam abruptly turned and walked off the porch, but Seth wasn't finished with him. The kid clearly had a death wish. "Hey," he yelled leaning over the rail. What would you have done if Jake hadn't imprinted?"

Sam spun around. "Huh?"

"What would you have done to us to get to Bella's baby?"

Sam had trouble answering. He'd been torturing himself with the same question, pushing away the look on Sue's face when he'd marched out of Billy's house. "I don't know," he said, honestly. "I would've done what I felt I needed to do to keep the tribe safe." The tired answer fell flat even on his ears. The words sounded empty.

"Right." Seth sounded too bitter and too much like his sister. He was actually disappointed in Sam.

It was suddenly too much. "What do you want from me?" he begged.

Seth leapt over the rail and shoved him. "I want this to be over!" he screeched. "I want my sister to be happy again. I want people to stop dying!" He shoved Sam again. "I want my dad back! I want you back!"

He struck Sam's chest repeatedly and there would be bruising. Sam let him. The punishment felt good. Seth hit him until he collapsed against his chest and Sam hugged him. Seth had been forgotten in all this. He was suffering and Sam hadn't noticed. "I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely, into the boy's hair. "I want your dad back too."

Seth wrapped his arms around him tighter and keened lowly. He had been Sam's little brother before Sam realized he might actually have a little brother. He didn't know if he'd ever be sure of his relationship to Embry Call, but Harry Clearwater had helped him build more than a fort that summer all those years ago.

"Harry would be proud of you," Sam said, gripping the back of Seth's neck and squeezing.

Of Sam? He was betting not so much.