I rested my hands on Seth's chest. He looked straight ahead, over my head. I reached up and placed my hands then on either side of his face, and pulled it down gently. He could have easily resisted, but he didn't. I met my eyes with his, and softly caressed the stiff muscles of his jaw until they finally relaxed. His shoulders slumped and he looked down, to both of our pairs of bare feet.

"Seth, It's not your fault," I whispered. His gaze met mine again, and his eyes were tormented, pained.

"It is though," he said quietly. "We got in a fight, about such a little thing. I wanted to go to a party at a friend's house. He wouldn't let me. I stomped off to my room, with him calling after me to please, please, calm down. I ignored him and sulked. Then Leah came in and told me to quit being so retarded, to grow up, to be a man. I told her to get out of my life and leave me alone.

"She got up in my face, taunting me. Next thing I know, we're snarling wolves, my bedroom is gone, and my dad's heart freezes up." He chuckled humorlessly. "Can't say I blame him. Woulda scared the shit outta me too. One second, your kids are bickering, as usual, no harm, no foul. Next thing, two huge, snarling wolves are in their places."

"Seth! This was not-" I started, but he cut me off, firing up in rage.

"It was, Sierra! It was my fault! Can't you see? If I hadn't fought with him over that, if only I had listened to him and calmed down! My father would be here now, to meet you, to help keep peace, to meet Leah's imprint and lecture him on treating his girl right. It's my entire fault." His voice broke on the last part and silent tears fell down, streaming down his cheeks and my hands.

"Seth, you couldn't have known. It wasn't humanly possible to predict that, Besides, he was 64. His heart was weaker and he was getting on in his age." He looked down again, but at me this time.

I moved my hands to his back and rubbed the tightly wound muscles. I then wrapped my arms as far as I could around is broad shoulders and rested my head on his chest. I felt his tears trickling through my hair as he buried his face in my hair. He brought his arms securely up around my waist. He sobbed quietly, trying to stifle it. I knotted my arms around his neck, then started rocking from side to side. He joined in.

Seth lowered us both to the sand then. I'm not sure how he accomplished it, but I ended up lying on his chest, tracing patterns absently on the rock hard muscles. He played with a strand of hair that fell loose from my ponytail.

"He really would have liked you, ya know," he murmured.

"Hmm?"

"My father, he really would have liked you."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he chuckled. "You got spunk. He likes his ladies spunky." He ruffled my hair and I playfully smacked his arm. I then slumped down on him comfortably, our two bodies molding into one.

I was glad his bad mood had passed, yet dreading when it returned. He had to deal with way too much already for a 14-year old. I closed my eyes as I listened to his strong, steady heartbeat and let my mind wander…