:Summary:

He was the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to him. She was the most beautiful thing in the world to him. And no scars could ever change that. (The story of Emily and Sam.)

:AN:

Mmkay, people, let's face facts here--Sam and Emily equal Love. Though small parts are mentioned of them, they made me so happy I wanted to look further into their past. I read about it in the book, at the Twilight Lexicon, and on Stephenie Meyer's homepage, and with that information, I present to you, the fruit of my efforts.

ALSO!

Sometimes, I italicized the word "beautiful." Not every time I used it, but sometimes. Just to let you know, I didn't forget to make the others italic. I just didn't choose to. NYA!

Things I wasn't sure of:

-Sam and Emily's age

(this lack of knowledge, ultimatly, caused me much grief and made this story difficult to write)

-If Paul and Jared were the same age as Sam

-If Sam went to high school with Jacob

(rather, at the same time--was Jacob a sophomore when Sam was a senior, or something?)

If you have these answers, I'd love you and mention you in my revision of this story! -CK

Dedicated to Emmy.

I love you, beautiful.

..::Beauty, the Beast::..

by Cheshirekit

"My name is Emily."

Funny how a single sentence can change one's life forever.

At fifteen years old and an impressive six-foot-seven one-hundred-ninety pounds of pure, bulky muscle, Sam Uley had never been more terrified in his entire life. The creature that was causing him such fear was approximatly five-foot-seven (and three quarters, if you asked her), with the kindest and most beautiful brown almond-shaped eyes he had ever seen. Her hair was a chocolate-brown color, and lay with the slightest of curls on her shoulder.

It occured to him that she was waiting for a response, hand extended. He quickly took it, squeezing perhaps a bit too hard with his too-warm hand.

"Sam," he muttered, and his voice wavered with the inexplainable terror he felt at talking to that most beautiful of girls.

Of course he had seen her before. Everyone in the school was in love with Emily. Why not? She was so very beautiful, and sweeter than sugar. And she was infamous for her cooking. She was the kind of girl who could date ANY guy she wanted, but rumor had it that she never had.

Why?

A mystery in itself.

"Oh, I knew that. You were in my freshmen-year algebra. I just didn't know if you knew me or not."

"Everyone knows you, Emily."

She seemed confused at his words, and he bit his lip in embarassment. He hadn't meant to say that out loud. But she ignored the awkwardness of the moment and flashed him a pearly-white, award winning smile.

"Oh! Well, I'm glad that we've got that out of the way, then. I think I'm supposed to be your lab partner."

Sure enough, he looked at the board and saw his and Sam's name, written in thick chalk against the black board. He turned to his left and saw the arry of envious stares he was given by his classmates, and couldn't help but feel a tiny bit smug. After all, she was so very beautiful, everyone couldn't help but be jealous. He turned back to her with a shrug.

"I guess so."

There was a throng of people waiting outside of the gymnasium, even before the list was posted. It had to be around 6:58, and the rest of the students were just beginning to enter, only to see everyone waiting patiently for 7:00.

6:59.

He hadn't been there intentionally--he'd actually forgotten that the list was being posted. He was only there because Paul had to get some working papers, and he promised the boy he'd drive him. He stopped outside the office, staring at the bustling group of people. He recognized many of them as his fellow teammates, and he had no idea why they were there.

He knew he was on the list before it was posted.

7:00.

The door creaked open, and the throng went completely silent. A man stepped into the light, taped a piece of paper to the door, and retreated back into the gym.

Instant chaos.

People pushed themselves over to see their name on the list, or to be disappointed to the point of frustrated tears. In the struggle to see the list, though, one girl was pushed back, out of the throng, where she stumbled. Just before she fell, though, a pair of strong, warm arms caught her around her waist, setting her upright.

"S-Sam!"

He gave he a half grin, his heart racing, and he couldn't help but note how perfectly she fit into his arms. He let her go quickly, as though not to arouse suspicion, once she was settled in her own skin. She beamed.

"I came to see if you made it! I couldn't get over there, though..."

His name was on the list. There was no way it couldn't be.

But her eyes...they were filled with the eagerness of a child waiting on candy. She wanted to see. She truly, really wanted him to succeed. And it made his heart do jumping-jacks. He hadn't even planned on looking at the list, anyway.

"...You came to see...my name?"

She chuckled.

"Of course! You told me yesterday that you tried out!"

She had come to see him.

For him.

"...C'mon, then. Let's go see if I made it."

He took her hand (so small and perfect in his own, ne noticed immediatly) and made his way effortlessly through the crowd. She followed without difficulty, unlike the last time she had attempted to. His name was on the top of the list--Sam Uley, team captain. She squealed and offered him a bright, toothy smile.

"Look! You're right at the top! Congratulations, Sam!"

She leaped up, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him down into a hug. He was a bit startled, to say the least, but grinned and allowed his arms to wrap around her waist. He could feel her cheeks blushing beside his. People were beginning to stare, but neither seemed to notice.

"Thanks," he muttered. She pulled away with beautiful sparkling eyes, and he never wanted to look away.

"My pleasure."

Though Sam wasn't exactly sure how it happened, he found himself seeing more and more of Emily.

She worked at the convenience store that he always shopped at, and he knew that she worked between 3:30 and 7:00 on Wednesdays, so one can imagine when he decided to get all of his shopping done. He'd stop by around 6:30, and wait until she got off of work. Often, they'd spend hours in the safety of McDonalds, sharing light-hearted conversation and laughter. Nothing deep, nothing secrative, nothing they wouldn't talk about with any average Joe.

But it was their time.

And though neither would vocalize it willingly, Wednesdays never came fast enough.

"Sam!" he heard the calling from downstairs. "Telephone!"

This confused Sam. Nobody ever called him. The black-haired giant leaped down the stairs and took the phone off of the hook.

"Hello?"

"Sam?"

His heart stuttered. Emily.

"...Sam? Hello? Are you there?"

"Uh! Yea," he blushed a bit. "What's up, Emily?"

"It's the chem homework," she muttered. He sensed the embarassment in her voice. "You know how bad I am at math, and I just can't figure out this significant figure table. And the scientific notation is driving me crazy!"

He found this thought to be a bit difficult to digest, as she was such a smart girl, but also grinned at the prospect of helping her.

"Do you want me to come over?"

"N-Now?"

He was startled by her reaction, and she fumbled over her words.

"W-Well, I mean, that's not a problem at all! Uh, do you know my address?"

He was over there within fifteen minutes, and, he noticed, her house was completely spotless. She smiled like the sun when she opened the door. Something smelled absolutely incredible.

"Hey, Sam!" the lilt in her voice was impossible to ignore. "I'm so sorry to bother you like this. If you want, I just finished making dinner, and you can help yourself!"

"If that's alright with you," he grinned, the sweet smell of pasta and pie disrupting his senses.

She treated him as though he were her favorite house guest, feeding him until he couldn't eat any more. She seemed to enjoy doing so, and he didn't complain. Finally, though, she brought down her notes and they sat in her caramel-colored kitchen, going over what Sam found to be the easiest part of chemistry.

Their conversations drifted in and out of science until the exponents and decimals lay, forgotten beneath the sound of their laughter. As she giggled, a single strand of hair came undone from her loose bun, and without thinking he reached forward and wiped the strand from her face. Her chuckles subsided, and she stared into his dark eyes with her own, completely engrossed. Boldly, he moved forward an inch, as did she, and their eyes slid shut as he felt her erratic breathing against his lips--

Brrrr! Brrrr!

He gasped at the feeling of a vibration against his leg, and they both looked down, only to realize his cell was going off. After a moment they both chuckled in embarassment, and she blushed and muttered something about washing the dishes. He picked up the phone with a bit more force than necessary.

"Jared," he growled, and the lively voice of the other boy would shine through the phone.

"Hey Sam! Where are you?"

"Not home. This is sort of a bad time..."

"You? Have a bad time? That's a laugh..."

As he pulled the phone away from his ear to ignore the younger boy, he noticed he was sweating, and something didn't feel right. Maybe it was how much he ate?

"I'll call you later, kid," he said, and hung up. He walked beside Emily, who was washing their dishes and humming quietly to herself.

"You've got a pretty voice," he noted, though pretty didn't really cut it. It was angelical. Beautiful. "You're in choir, right?"

She blushed and turned her head, nodding.

"Y-Yes...I love to sing..."

"Is that what you're going to do when you get out of school?"

A dreamy look crossed her face.

"There's nothing I would like more...well, that's not true, actually..."

She bit her lip, as if debating whether she should continue her sentence, but she turned to him with a smile.

"Want to keep a secret for me?"

He nodded, and she leaned closer yet.

"I'm a little embarassed, but...more than singing, and anything else in the world..."

She paused, licked her lips, and whispered right into his ear.

"I want to have my own family."

The words surprised him, more than perhaps they should have. But his smile only widened, and he gave her an affectionate kiss on the forehead. He took her tiny hands in one of his own, and he used his finger to move her chin up, so their eyes met. His fingers stroked her cheek, though one stayed beneath her chin. His fingers were fire against her face.

"We have the same dream," he whispered, and leaned down to plant a kiss just below her right eye. She blushed at the touch, but just as he was to pull away, she leaned up with him, so his lips stayed on her. He stopped a moment, and kissed her again, this time in the middle of her cheek. He kissed right beside her lips, and he felt her melt into a smile before he allowed his lips to cover hers.

Beautiful.

It was beauty itself. That was the only way to describe it, if he had to have a word for it. Her lips were soft against his, and his hands came up to hold her face as the kiss deepened. His heart began to accelerate, and he gasped as he backed away, trying to calm himself. His muscles were quivering, but they ceased with his will. She looked a bit surprised, but the smile melted onto her face, her eyes shining like amber crystals.

"Wow..." she said breathlessly, and he couldn't agree more.

That night, everything began to change.

It started with a strange nausia, and a fever that burned his entire body. The elders all told him to stay out of his house, to stay outside. And since he had no family, he waited outside, sweating in the cold, all by himself. Really, nothing was more terrible than the feeling of being completely and unconditionally alone.

Suddenly, his body began to rip from the inside out.

And then he knew exactly what was happening.

It took him almost three days to realize how to change back, and it was just as painful a process. He ended up, naked and sore like nothing he could imagine. He lay in the forest as it rain, his face blank as his entire body throbbed in pain. And he waited there until he was overcome with the feeling to throw up, in which he turned back into the creature, and ran away.

After a week of experimenting and sickness, he finally had everything under control. As long as he stayed calm, he wasn't in the danger of being destructive. Before he could tell anyone of what happened, though, Billy sat him down and had a long talk.

"You are not to tell anyone," he told the black-haired boy. "Jared and Paul already know, so you talk to them if you must. And I don't want to see you in school for another week."

Two weeks passed by for Sam before school even crossed his mind. He practiced every day, making sure he had his power under control before he even set foot into his home. The tribe elders were all waiting for him there, grinning, their old faces torn between sorrow for the kid's pain and joy that he had changed.

"Welcome, Sam," they told him, "to adulthood."

There were twenty-four messages in total waiting for him on either of his phones.

And fifteen were from Emily.

The earlier sounded slightly concerned, but still normal enough. She had gathered his homework and wanted his address to get it to him. Then, more worry began to fill her voice as time went by, and she pleaded that he call her, until the desperation turned into weariness. Her final message made him feel guilty for not being more responsible and coming home earlier.

"Hi Sam...it's me again...I know you must be sick, and I called all the hospitals, but you haven't checked in...I even visited, and you weren't home...did you move? I guess something terrible happened..."

There was a pause, and a long sigh.

"I guess this seems a little stalker-esque of me, but everyone's worried...I...I miss you...if you ever need anything...well...I hope to see you soon," she added, as if trying to be more optimistic than she felt. The phone beeped. "YOU HAVE NO NEW MESSAGES."

This feeling of dread was thrice what he thought it might be, as he remembered Billy Black's words.

"You can only worry about one thing right now--not changing. Understand? Everyone you come into contact with will be in danger of their lives."

He ran to her house, despite the rain. He had become so much stronger in the last three weeks, so the run didn't take any effort, nor did he care that he was soaking. He knocked on her door, and didn't have to wait more than a few seconds before it opened.

She looked more beautiful than he'd remembered.

Her face showed so much emotion--shock, relief, confusion, frustration to name a few. She stood in the doorway, eyes scanning over him over and over again. Finally, though, she threw herself at him, face buried into his massive, wet shoulder. He felt a warmth against the cold of his shirt--tears?

"You jerk!"

She began punching him with one hand before she dissolved into tears yet again, her punches becoming weaker and weaker as she smiled at him.

"I'm so happy you're alright!" she cried. "Come inside! Goodness, you're burning up! What were you thinking?! You'll catch your death if you stay out there any longer!"

"Wait," he stopped her, pushing her away. His head lowered, and he bit his lip.

He did NOT want to do this.

"Emily...I can't see you anymore. I mean, we were never really going out, if you'd call it that, but...I can't...be near you other than in chem."

Her features, he could tell, were shocked and offended at his words. She frowned slightly in disbelief, and licked her suddenly dry lips.

"Wh-What?"

"I can't...explain it, but if you come near me again...something bad might happen. Please, please, please don't try to contact me unless it's absolutely necessary."

Her eyes narrowed more, as though trying to conceal her confusion, but her eyes...liquid, like melted chocolate, refused to accept what he was saying.

"What...about work? Are you going to avoid me at the store?"

"I'll go on Thursdays instead."

She flinched, and he felt as though a chip of his heart was torn off in the process.

"So...is that it? I'm a friend, and you can just toss me aside, just like that? Whenever you want?"

Her voice was desperate, and tears threatened to overflow. She gripped the doorway until her knuckles were white. She sniffed and scowled at him.

"Sam Uley," she started. "I don't know what's gotten into you, but I can promise you that no matter what it is, I want to help you solve it. I am most certainly not just going to end this here. I don't want to...I really like you, Sam. I really, really, really like you."

He froze, his heart accelerating.

"I like the way your voice sounds, and what you say is always so interesting...and I like how funny you are, and just...how real you can be...not to mention you're cuter than pie..."

She wasn't supposed to be saying things like that. She was supposed to be smacking him upside the head, calling him a jerk, and pushing him out of the door and out of her life.

"You can't talk like that," he told her. "You can't think like that."

"I can, and I will. And don't tell me you don't want to hear this, because I know you do," she grinned, obviously proud of herself, and stepped out into the rain with him. He took a step back in defense, but she took yet another one forward.

"Emily," he warned. "Don't. Please," he added quietly, and she shook her head.

"I can't," she whispered, pain and pleading in her eyes as much as it was in his.

"I'm in love with you, Sam Uley. And I'm not planning on staying away from you. Not now, or ever."

It was the longest second in his life.

Feelings of fury rose up in him. Couldn't she see he wanted to protect her? Couldn't she tell that he was trying to make sure that she stayed alive and safe? This was for HER good, and it was hurting him too, dammit! Why did she have to be so wonderfully stubborn? He had gone to shake her by the shoulders, to shake some sense into her. But in the process of exploding into a monster, he grabbed her cheek with his paw. He watched through foreign eyes as he cut into her face, down her neck and shoulder, all the way to her wrist.

Panic and terror rose up in him before he even knew what had happened, and the smell of blood...it was everywhere. It enveloped him like a curtain, until he was suffocating in the smell. Emily's blood was pouring from her face as she lay unconsious on the ground.

'What have I done?!' his inner human mind screamed in agony. 'No...Emily!'

Somewhere, in the far back of his mind, he knew that he needed to calm down. But the irrational, loud voice of accusation right in his ear made him unable to.

'You've killed her!' the voice roared. 'She's dying! The most beautiful girl in the world is dying because you mauled her! You did this to her!'

His guilt was not helping his current situation. He needed to stop and think, and get Emily help. But he couldn't calm down enough, in fear that she was dying, to transform. And Lord knew he couldn't just storm into town looking like that. So, in a complete loss at what to do, he howled the most mournful cry he could muster.

Moments later, two hikers that happened to be running by appeared, eyes wide with shock.

"S-SAM!" Jared cried, staring in shock at the sight. Paul was at Emily's side in a moment, but left in another moment because he had to be sick. The stench of blood clogged his senses, just as it did Sam's, though it was driving Sam crazy. He had to change-he killed Emily-he had to calm down-he ripped out her face: the internal turmoil was killing him.

"Sue Clearwater? It's Paul. Sam's hurt Emily...I don't know. It looks aweful, though, and you have to hurry. He's going to kill himself for this one."

The grief of the sight was too much, and not even Jared's hands holding him down could stop him. He needed to escape. He wanted to pick Emily up and run her to the nearest place, to save her life, to see her smiling and well within the week. But a part of him was too excited and would not be settled down.

Even as Sue, only an R.N. at the time, got to the scene of the disaster, Sam lay in a sobbing heap in the middle of the forest, trying desperatly to calm himself down enough to change back, but unable to. The scene, should anyone have witnessed it, would have been very pathetic--the greatest of all beasts, lying on his back, writing in emotional agony as he tried to calm himself down enough to see if the girl he was in love with was even alive as scenes from her 'death' played over and over behind his eyes.

"She'll live."

Two words that caused Sam to break down and cry.

It was 3:43 in the morning, and Sue Clearwater had been up all night saving a beautiful girl's life. Cleaning wounds, stitching them back together, and keeping her body in the best shape she could. Sam had waited the entire time, staring into the abyss as the events of the prior afternoon played in his mind's eye over and over and over again, a broken record that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

It had taken him almost four hours, but finally, he was back in his own body, sobbing and sick and naked in the forest. He ran home to grab some clothes before arriving at the house. They hadn't brought her to the hospital, as Dr. Carlisle Cullen was on duty, and Sam understood immediatly that it would have been disasterous.

"I don't want to see her...I don't want to see what I've done..."

"She wants to see you."

The side facing him was completely unharmed, and from a side view she almost looked normal. He took her hand. The other half of her was wrapped in bandages, one eye covered by a patch. He leaned his forehead on her hand, his eyes shut as the guilt ate away at him.

"Emily..." he whispered, his voice wavering as his grief threatened to consume him. Her good eye opened slowly, and shifted towards him. She lifted her hand, and ran it over the top of his head. Her voice was lined in pain, and very coarse.

"Oh Sam...are you alright? I was so worried about you..."

He stared at her, his emotions welling up in his eyes in the form of tears.

"Emily...I am...so...sorry..."

He could barely finish, as sobs took over and he began to cry, not for the first time that day, and certainly not for the last. He leaned into the side of her belly, resting his forehead on her side, seeking comfort, forgiveness, and love.

"How could I? I lost control! I don't know what happened, and I couldn't cope--I--I--"

"Shush, now," she murmured in a raspy voice, stroking her hand through his hair. "I forgive you. Please, Sam...don't talk like that."

He looked up with the saddest eyes, and she found herself hurt at not only their accusing gaze, but the look of self-reproach--no, self hatred--they held.

"How? How can you possibly forgive me, after I've hurt you so?"

"It could be worse," she coughed lightly, and her entire body shook with the tremors. She gave him a half smile (literally). "You could have gotten my voice box. Or worse yet--you could have said you didn't feel the same for me as I feel for you."

She held him as best she could as he cried into her side. Only one thought passed through his head as he cried.

'I love you, beautiful.'

When she went back to school, he couldn't ignore the looks she was given. The looks of terror, of shock, of absolute horror at the appauling damage done to the prettiest girl in the school.

"I was careless, and was attacked by a bear in the forests," she told everyone, pointing to the raised bumps and scars on her face, still lined with black stitches and still wet from treatment. She had to wear an eyepatch, as her eye hadn't healed yet, and only half of her mouth moved when she spoke. He followed, watching, his heart breaking.

She acted as if nothing was wrong.

It was killing him inside.

He hated everyone, for making her tell the story over and over, for their entertainment, their family, their friends--anyone they knew, they wanted her to tell them. He hated their pointed stares and motions towards the "Beauty-turned-beast" as they walked down the hallways. He hated their whispers, the ones only he (with his super sensitive hearing) could hear at such a distance. They called her such terrible names, he wanted to rip out their faces and see how they liked it.

The apologies didn't end. He did everything he could for her, and then some. He dedicated his existance to her happiness, but each kindly gift given, she declined.

"You shouldn't feel responsible," she chided. "I've forgiven you a thousand times. I don't need trinkets to see you love me."

He had yet to say it in words, but oh, how he did love her. At first, it took a while to be sure, as he wasn't sure if it was just his remorse showing that she had a chance at having her own family. But honestly, even when he looked at her face and the marred flesh that had been his doing, he saw the beauty that she posessed. In fact, it only strengthened when he realized how well she was handling the entire situation.

He needed to tell her, and show her, how much he truly loved the angel with the scarred face.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see," he answered for the millionth time, gently holding her hands in his own as he led her through the thick forests. Her face was twisted in with mischief and delight, though her eyes (both good and bad) were covered in a black bandana.

"Are we close?"

"My, aren't we impatient!" he laughed airily, but finally, they had reached their destination, and stopped. He began to untie the blindfold, and stood behind her, with his chin resting on her shoulder and a peaceful look on his face for the first time in a very long time.

"Okay," he said, removing the cloth. "You can peek now."

Having been months since the incident, the scars, still angry in appearance, were a bit duller than they had been. She no longer wore an eyepatch, though one eye was pulled a bit down from the scratches. Despite this, though, the look on her face was completely shocked.

There stood a house in the clearing, with a little garden around the front that stretched into the backyard, outlining the perimeter of the house, save for two little spaces cleared for doors. It was overall not the biggest house in the world, but it looked like it was right from a storybook. She turned to him, looking utterly moved.

"Sam...you didn't..."

"You told me a while back you wanted your own family. Well, I figured, you need a house to raise that family in...so I pulled a few strings. Let's just say I know a guy who knows a guy who sold this house for a STEAL!"

He grinned, but it soon began to evaporate as she continued to look stunned, worried almost. He frowned.

"You don't like it?"

"Why are you doing this?" she whispered, tears in her eyes. "I don't understand...this can't still be out of guilt?"

He took her hands in one of his, and used his other hand to lift her chin up, to meet his eyes. She looked skeptical, and he decided she needed a bit of reaffirmation that she was undeniably beautiful to him if no one else. He leaned forward and captured her lips in his in a slow, gentle, and, most importantly, genuine kiss. One that couldn't be imitated, one that couldn't be fake, and one that couldn't hide the adoration he felt for her.

"I gave you this house, because I want you to raise a family in it. But...I have only one condition, and that is that, since I want a family too--remember?--I want us to have our very own family, with each other..."

He bit his lip uneasily.

"I'm not going to find a treasure like you anywhere else, Emily. And I'm not losing you to some creep who'll just take advantage of you. So..."

He reached into his pocket and took out a small black box.

"Don't worry, it's just a promise ring, but...I know how selfish it is, to put you in danger like this, but you said you wouldn't leave me alone because you loved me...do you think you could keep that one promise to me? Just for a little while, if nothing else?"

Tears began to overflow in her eyes, spilling over eyelids and down her cheeks, and he opened the box to reveal two rings--both were identical in design, though one was thicker. They were made of two bands--one of silver, one of gold--entwining and circling in a Celt-like design. The overall effect was stunning. Amazing.

Beautiful.

"Oh Sam..." she cried, and threw her arms around his neck. He held her tightly, whispering the three most cherished words she'd ever heard before in her life. He repeated them over and over until the tears had stopped, and he kissed her cheeks--both of them--until they were dry. He leaned his forehead against hers, their fingers curling around each other, rings touching, both in incomprehensible gratitude towards each other.

Not much had changed that year.

Emily and Sam both finished their school-year by the skin of their teeth. Sam didn't get a job for obvious reasons, and Emily? Well, by then, Paul and Jared had gone through some shocking transformations (with all the help and encouragement they could gather from poor Sam, of course) and now, she had her own family to take care of.

Sure, people still stared at her when she walked around. Children gasped when she went into supermarkets, which hurt her a bit, but she didn't show it. She held her head high.

She couldn't fufill her dream of being on stage--who would cast such a face?--but it didn't matter anymore.

She sang her own tunes as she washed dishes and stirred big bowls of eggs and bacon, or as she trimmed the bleeding hearts in the backyard. That's usually how Sam found her at home--humming and cooking, or tidying up her immaculately clean rooms. He would walk inside and take her face in his massive hands and kiss her like it was no one's buisiness.

He was the most beautiful thing that happened to her.

She was the most beautiful thing in the world to him.

And no scars could ever change that.

..::Fin::..

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