Wow, so it's been about three years since I last posted a story. I've been writing this one for literally three years and it's still not done, but I have a ton for it so I figured I'd finally throw it up here. Don't count on updates super often because it's still very much a work in progress!

Okay so a few notes about the story:

This story is rated "T" for adult language and some innuendo.

It takes place about a year or so after "Breaking Dawn". I haven't read BD in about three years so if timelines/ages are off, I apologize up front. I'm going on my assumption that the events in BD took place over the course of nearly a year (again I don't remember if that's the case, but humor me) so that is how I've set this story up.

This is also the first story that I've ever written in first person, so I apologize in advance for any errors in that department. All my other experience is strickly third person, so I'm sure I've made a ton of boo boos. But hey that's how we learn. Anyway, read, enjoy, criticize, whatever you feel like. I appreciate any and all reviews including constructive criticisms.

As per my ushe, I've taken all my chapter titles from song titles. My first foray into FF in three years begins with "The Lightning Storm" by Flogging Molly from the album "Float".

"Take what you give, until there's nothing left but forever live.

As the days they come, but the years they go. So take care of your freedom, they'll never know."

-Flogging Molly

The sky over La Push was just beginning to darken as I stood on the front porch of my house. I glanced up and took in the swiftly moving clouds. They undulated across the sky in grayish wispy patterns, the gloomy coloring promising another bout of rain. I sighed and willed Seth Clearwater to hurry. Seth was moving in with Quil Ateara and I today and I didn't really relish the prospect of moving his stuff in the pouring rain. I closed my eyes and strained to hear the familiar rumbling of my pickup truck that I had loaned Seth that morning. Nothing. I opened my eyes and sighed again. The kid was only seventeen, how much stuff could he possibly have? He should have been back ages ago. If I could have managed to get the morning off from work I would have helped him load the truck but considering all the layoffs that had been going on, I didn't dare ask for time off. I really hoped Seth realized that the small house Quil and I had been sharing for the past year wasn't exactly Buckingham Palace.

Quil's grandfather had given Quil the small house on the outskirts of the Quileute reservation as a high school graduation present. While Quil and I had been ecstatic at the idea of living on our own, we were pretty crammed in the tight quarters. There was a small spare room which we had been using as a storage closet that was now going to be Seth's room. We hadn't planned on adding a roommate but Seth was desperate to move out of his mother's house. He and his mom had been having problems lately concerning her new boyfriend. Seth couldn't believe his mom was replacing his dad so quickly. His mom, Sue, didn't see it as replacing, but merely attempting to move on with her life. Either way, the tensions in the Clearwater house had been running high and when you threw Seth's sister Leah into the mix, well it was enough to make you feel really bad for the kid. When he had begged to move in, we relented. Sue had agreed to the move based on the fact that she only lived one street over and would still be seeing Seth pretty much every day. I think she secretly thought he'd be moving home again in a few months. Seth is kind of a mama's boy.

I hopped up to sit on the porch railing, the old wood groaning underneath me. One of these days the railing would probably crack right in half and spill me into a heap on the ground. Actually that would more likely happen to Quil. I smirked at the thought. I was a couple inches taller than Quil, but the guy outweighed me by about fifty pounds. I heard a familiar rumbling and my ears perked up. Yep that was definitely my truck. I jumped down from my perch and headed towards the driveway. I couldn't see the truck yet, but it was getting louder. I craned my head to look down the road and finally saw the dark blue Ford.

Seth slowed down and pulled into the driveway. I narrowed my eyes at the load filling the back of the pickup. There seemed to be an awful lot of boxes. Seth jumped out of the cab and bounded around the front of the truck, a huge smile plastered from ear to ear. I studied the mound of items in the back of the truck, mentally calculating just where in the hell all this stuff was going to fit. As my eyes roved over Seth's belongings, an extremely ugly something caught my attention.

"You're joking right?"

Seth's smile faded and he glanced at me, a look of confusion now etched on his face.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

He actually sounded sincere. Like he didn't know what I was talking about or something. To help him out I waved my hand at the atrocity that was currently residing in the back of my pickup.

Seth looked back at the truck bed. "What?"

I was seriously rethinking our generosity of letting him move in as I stared at the horror in front of me.

"That!" I spat. I tried to keep the contempt out of my voice, but I failed miserably.

Seth looked around, apparently still befuddled. "What?" he asked again.

"That. THAT!" I waved my hand harder.

"What, my mother's couch?"

I made a face. "Is that what that is? A couch? Are you serious?"

"Well…..yeah," he still sounded a bit confused. As Seth spoke, he jumped lightly into the back of the truck and began untying the cords holding his furniture and boxes down.

I shook my head vehemently. "No. Uh uh. That thing is NOT coming into this house."

Seth looked down at the couch. "What's wrong with it?"

My eyes widened so far I thought for sure they would pop right out of my skull. "What's wrong with it? What's wrong with it he asks." I shook my finger at him. I wanted to make sure my point got across and finger gestures are always helpful. "I'll tell you what's wrong with it. It's white for starters. How dumb is that? Not to mention the fact that it has cabbage roses on it and—"

"It has what?" Seth exclaimed.

"CABBAGE ROSES!" I shouted.

Seth stared at me blankly.

"Did you hear me? It's not coming into the house."

Seth frowned. "I'm still wrapping my head around the fact that you know what the hell a cabbage rose is," he replied.

"Dude! This whole thing-" here I threw in some more violent hand gestures to make sure he understood the seriousness of this matter "- it's all so very very bad I'm not even sure where to begin!"

Seth jumped out of the bed of my truck and stalked over to me. "My mother gave me this couch. I told her you guys didn't have one."

"Hey we used to have more furniture. However our collection has dwindled," I said prissily. I didn't bother to mention that our collection had dwindled because Quil was like a bull in a china shop and we gave up attempting to actually own things like…..chairs. "Besides that couch is hideous."

"My mom loves this couch, yet she gave it to me, her only son. I think it was really nice of her considering the circumstances. Not to mention we kind of need someplace to sit. It's going into the house." Seth said this in a tone that suggested the matter was already decided.

I snorted. "That's what you think. I however, beg to differ."

"You beg to differ?" Seth repeated.

"Yup."

Seth pursed his lips and nodded slowly. "Well, Embry," he poked me in the chest with a finger as he spoke. "I beg to differ on your begging to differ..ering."

I started down at his finger. How dare he use my own gestures against me. "First of all, what you just said makes NO grammatical sense," I informed him. "And secondly stop poking me." I slapped his hand away.

Thunder rumbled overhead and the sky suddenly turned an ominus shade of black. I felt the first droplets of rain hit my face as Seth and I squared off in the driveway in a very 'Shootout at the O-K Corral' kind of way.

Seth narrowed his eyes. "All my stuff is going to get wet," he growled.

I crossed my arms across my chest. "I guess it is," I replied, matching his tone.

He pointed a finger at the truck. "That couch is coming inside."

"Nope."

The rain began to come faster and lightning flashed tattooing a bright white glare across my retinas for a moment in its aftermath. The rain pelted my face and dripped freely from my hair as I held my ground.

"I suppose we're at an impasse then," Seth said slowly.

I shrugged. "Guess so."

Seth sniffed loudly. "In about two seconds I'm going to punch you. Then when I've done that you will pick up what remains of your manhood off the ground, realize that I was right and you were very, very wrong, and help me get my stuff into the house before it gets soaking wet."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "You're going to punch me?" I asked incredulously.

The words were barely out of my mouth when Seth's fist connected with my upper arm.

"Jesus!" I didn't go down, but it was close. For being one of the smallest members of our pack, he was pretty strong. I held a hand over my aching bicep and stared at him wide eyed. "You hit me," I said, disbelief lacing my words.

Seth nodded. "I told you."

I moved my arm up and down a few times then shook it, checking to make sure nothing was broken. Not that it wouldn't heal right away, but it was the principle. "That hurt," I told him.

"It was supposed to. Now help me move this furniture before I have to really hurt you."

I pouted, but as I was a non-violent sort, as least in human form, I followed him to the truck. "I'm going to have a huge bruise," I whined as I climbed into the truck bed.

"Stop being a total wuss and help me," Seth said. "Besides we don't really bruise."

"There's a first time for everything. You're really going to regret hitting me," I scolded him as I grabbed one end of the couch.

"Ohh what are you going to do huh? Throw a witty rejoinder at me?" Seth made an I'm so scared face at me then rolled his eyes.

"Wow, if I knew how mean you were I never would have let you move in," I told him haughtily.

"You're not letting me move in. Quil is it's his house."

"It's our house. I pay half the bills. And we took a vote. You were almost kicked off the island buddy." I grabbed my end of the couch more securely and jumped out of the truck, making my way towards the front door of the house. I moved as fast as I could in the hope that Seth would fall on his face. Or at least trip.

"Dude, slow down," he snarled.

"What? I can't hear you over all this rain and thunder," I shouted, moving even faster.

I made my way up the porch steps and began to maneuver the couch through the door.

"Embry, it's not going to fit that way!" I heard Seth's yell two seconds before the couch got wedged in the door frame.

"Perfect," I muttered. I knew this stupid couch was a bad idea.

"Try backing out and going in at more of an angle," I heard Seth say from somewhere behind the mounds of cabbage roses.

With an annoyed groan I shoved the sofa as hard as I could back out the door. Unfortunately, or not so unfortunate since it didn't happen to me, and because I was feeling spiteful after being punched, Seth lost his grip and went flying off the porch. He landed on his ass in a rather large puddle that was forming from the rain.

I bellowed out laughter at the sight of him sitting sadly on the ground.

"This really isn't very funny," he stated.

I snorted. "Well, sorry but in my book it's pretty damn funny."

Seth glowered. "In your book?"

"Yep."

"What's your book called? 'I'm An Insensitive Ass', a memoir by Embry Call?"

That only made me laugh harder. "I told you that you shouldn't have hit me. It's called karma, bitch."

Seth rolled his eyes. "Here's what I don't get," he said as he dragged himself to his feet and shook like a dog sending water flying everywhere. "You're supposed to be all shy and nice, right? I mean that's what everyone says about you and yet you are very immature."

"Takes one to know one," I retorted. "Deal with it. You signed up to live with me."

Seth shook his head and grabbed his end of the sofa again. "Angle it in," he commanded.

After a brief struggle we finally managed to get the stupid sofa into the living room. Seth ran back out into the rain to grab some of his boxes while I rearranged the couch against the wall underneath the large picture window. When I was finally no longer amid a sea of cabbage roses, I turned and saw Quil sitting on the kitchen counter chowing down on a bowl of cereal, a box of Lucky Charms still clutched in his left hand.

"When did you get home? And what the hell are you doing?" I barked at him.

Quil stared at me with wide eyed innocence. "What?" he asked.

I pointed at him. "You're sitting in here eating while Seth and I are moving all his crap?"

"I was hungry," Quil said in a small voice.

"You're always hungry!"

"Well, I'm a big guy. I need food," Quil informed me.

I made a face. "Okay Bubba McTubby," I retorted.

"I'm not fat!" Quil sounded horrified at the very thought.

I gave him a placating smile. "Of course you aren't."

Quil frowned at me. "Screw you, I'm totally hot." He flexed his arms at me. "See all that muscle?"

I ignored his attempted display of machismo and pointed at the couch. "What do you think about this?"

"What, the couch?" Quil jumped off the counter, the box of Lucky Charms still in his hand and joined me by the sofa. "What about it?"

"Do you not see the hideousness that this is?"

Quil threw himself down onto the couch – and Seth wonders why we have no furniture - and gave it a few test bounces. "Feels good to me," he said. He pulled a handful of cereal out of the box and shoved it into his mouth.

"Unbelievable," I muttered. I flopped onto the couch next to him and sighed. I also gave a quick bounce on the cushions. I didn't want to admit it, but the thing was pretty comfortable. Maybe we could get a sofa cover. I bounced again then made a face at the blank wall across from me. "I think we should paint this room."

Seth came running in the door again, his arms loaded with boxes. "Still have stuff to move here," he panted.

Quil jerked his thumb at me and said around another mouthful of cereal, "Embry thinks we should paint."

Seth dropped his boxes and sat next to me on the couch. "You want to paint?"

"Well, it's kind of boring, yeah?"

All three of us cocked our heads to the side and studied the plain white wall.

"What you want it to be like colorful?" Quil asked.

"No, I just think the if we got say a nice beige color with like a bronze shimmer base then on the five days a year when we have sunlight, the sun will come in through this window-" I waved at the picture window behind us "-and it will bring out the bronze shimmer that the paint-"I stopped when I noticed Seth and Quil both staring at me like I had sprouted another head. "I'm just saying," I muttered.

I have got to stop watching so much Extreme Home Makeover. I picked at a piece of skin next to my thumbnail for a moment then turned and glared at Quil who was still staring at me. "What?" I finally snapped.

"Well that was pretty…..gay," Quil snickered.

"I have no problem being in touch with my feminine side," I informed him. "Besides I don't feel the need to defend myself to a guy who thinks his "Ask Me About My Weiner" tee shirt is a fashion statement."

"Whatever," Quil snorted. "Gay."

"Yeah, the guy clutching a box of Lucky Charms like it's his endangered children and this is Sophie's Choice is judging me?"

Quil frowned. "Okay, I don't even know what in the hell that means. Can't you use insults that at least make sense? For example…..'that was gay'. Straightforward and to the point. No thinking required."

"I can't believe I actually wanted to live with you two," Seth muttered.

"You're just pissed because I hate your stupid couch."

"No, I'm just surprised because I didn't realize I was moving in with Martha Stewart," he retorted.

"Please, you could at least compare me to Tracy Hutson or something," I said.

Quil and Seth both looked at me with bewildered expressions on their faces.

"Will you two stop looking at me like I just spiked your Flavor Aid?" I snapped.

Quil furrowed his brow. "What?"

I tossed my arms in the air. "Jim Jones? Jonestown? The single biggest loss of US civilian life before Nine Eleven?"

They both gave me blank looks.

"Do you two know nothing of history?" I was appalled. "I mean we did all attend the same school, did we not?"

Seth slowly shook his head. "I sometimes think you're too smart for your own good. I mean, it's like you think you're speaking English, but really it's all just buzzes and clicks to us."

I sighed. "Never mind. I can't possibly have a conversation that involves intelligence of any sort with you two."

Quil made a face. "Well excuse us. I didn't realize that this conversation would require my cliffs notes on 'Close Encounters of the Nerd Kind'."

"I'm not a nerd, I'm a genius. There is a difference," I informed him.

He snorted. "Yeah, okay."

I just shook my head. I find it very sad that I'm the only one in my circle of friends with any sort of real intellect. And Quil's the worst. I guess I couldn't fault him for that though. He's spent the last few years hanging out with a toddler. His entire culture of late was Disney movies and Barbie dolls.

Quil had imprinted on Claire Redpath almost three years ago. Claire was two-years-old at the time. She had turned five in April and was going to be starting kindergarten at the tribal school in September. Quil was beside himself about the whole situation. It was all I had heard about lately. Don't get me wrong, I mean I love the guy, but he was seriously getting on my last nerve. Every little thing Claire did, I got to hear about. I was actually hoping now that Seth would be living with us that he would get to bear the brunt of Quil's Claire ravings.

Imprinting was something that was still so foreign to me. I mean, when Quil is with Claire he's so….happy. Not just happy, downright gleeful. I don't begrudge the guy his happiness at all, but what was in his opinion a win-win situation for him, was a total lose-lose situation for me. I mean when Claire's not around, he's talking about her and when he's not talking about her he's thinking about her. Since I can pretty much see and hear everything he thinks about in wolf form there was no escape for me. In my experience of hanging out with the imprinted pack members, the whole thing seems to leave them metaphorically impotent and not just a little bit stupid. Not that Quil was composing symphonies before he imprinted, but still. I pray every day that I never imprint. Like ever. Like never ever.

Seth stood up abruptly, effectively pulling me out of my internal diatribe on all things imprint. "Come on guys, there's still a ton of stuff in the truck."

With a sigh, I hauled myself up and followed him back outside.

An hour later we were finally done bringing Seth's stuff inside. With a loud groan I threw myself back onto the couch. Super strength or not, I was beat. I closed my eyes and tried to tune out Quil and Seth's chatter as they debated how to integrate Seth's DVD collection in with ours.

"QUIL!"

I jerked up and frowned. Claire. Not that I don't like Claire, but come on. A guy can only take so much in one day.

"Hey!" Quil bounded over to the door and pulled Claire up into a bear hug. Her squeals of delight grated on my nerves a bit. Why do kids feel the need to scream and squeal all the time? It's very irritating.

Emily Uley followed Claire into the house, her six month old son Logan in her arms. She switched the baby from arm to arm as she pulled off her raincoat.

"It's really coming down out there," she said with a laugh.

"What were you ladies up to today?" Quil asked as he put Claire down. He pulled off her pink raincoat and slung it across the back of our only remaining kitchen chair. I tried to not let the fact that it was dripping water on the wood floor bother me.

Emily shrugged. "Not much. We did some crafts and drawing. Nothing big."

"I made you a picture, Quil!" Claire shrieked gleefully. She held up a piece of brown construction paper that was covered in marker swirls and whorls. I also think there was a unicorn in there somewhere, but I couldn't be sure.

I raised my eyebrows. I knew that awesome piece of art was going to be joining the myriad of others that were plastered on our refrigerator door.

"Wow, it's gorgeous," Quil smiled.

I rolled my eyes. Emily caught my look and grinned. She walked over to the couch and pushed my legs off so she could sit down. She balanced Logan on her lap and bounced him as she spoke.

"Nice couch," she commented.

Seth gave me a gloating look.

I gave him the finger.

"So, how are you Embry?" Emily asked.

"Fine," I muttered, closing my eyes again.

After a moment I felt her looking at me and my eyes popped open.

"Oh, umm, so how's the baby today?" I asked, not so much because I care, but because it's apparently frowned upon if I don't ask this question every time the baby is in my presence. It was her first baby and all she ever wanted to talk about. I bet myself I'm going to hear a really fascinating story involving baby poop or something and guess what? I'm right so I win. But since I only bet myself, my reward is still having to hear the story. However I feel it was a moral victory for me which is what matters.

I really tried to pay attention to the mesmerizing baby caper that Emily was regaling me with, but all baby talk pretty much sounds like white noise to me so what I really heard was 'blah blah blah blah blah'.

"Isn't that the cutest thing? Embry?"

I started and tried desperately to look like I had been paying attention.

"Isn't that the cutest thing?" Emily asked again.

I nodded. "Totally."

Emily frowned. "You didn't hear one word I said, did you?"

I sighed. "No."

"Typical," Emily laughed. "So how's school?"

"All right I guess. I don't love the classes I'm taking right now, but I need them so," I trailed off and shrugged. "I just wish I could have gone to…you know….a real school," I added quietly.

Emily patted my shoulder. "I know. You really deserve it too. But…"

"Yeah," I interrupted. "I'm needed here." I flopped back against the cushions and pouted.

Logan reached over and grabbed a fistful of my hair.

Emily bit her lip. "Well, how's work?" She asked in an effort to change the subject. Everyone knew how sensitive I was on the topic of college.

I gave her a disgusted look. "It sucks. I hate pretty much everything about it," I said as I wrestled the baby's pudgy hand out of my hair.

I had been working part time as a mechanic at a Port Angeles car dealership for about a year now. I wasn't nearly as good of a mechanic as Jake, but I managed. I like cars well enough and I don't mind working on them, but it wasn't what I wanted to do with my life. The job sucked and the pay wasn't much better, but there weren't a lot of opportunities for employment anywhere near home. I made enough money to cover my part of the bills, put gas in my truck, and take a few courses at Peninsula College. Overall it was not the college education I had dreamed of before the whole wolf thing.

"Well, soon enough you'll have a degree and be able to get a job doing something you really like," Emily said.

I gave her a weak smile, but I could sense the falseness behind her words. She knew the job market around here wasn't exactly flourishing. Not to mention the fact that if I wanted to actually get a degree for Biochemistry, I sure as hell wasn't going to be getting it at PC. Which meant I wasn't going to be getting it period. Which really sucked. "Sure," I muttered.

Ever since I was a little kid, I knew I wanted to be a scientist. I had flourished at the tribal school in math, chemistry, and biology and had pretty much decided I wanted to get a degree in biochemistry from the time I learned what biochemistry was. Unfortunately for me, the schools around here weren't exactly what I needed if I was going to pursue my degree. What I wanted was to be able to attend a four year school. No actually if I was really honest with myself, what I really wanted was to leave La Push, hell to leave Washington and never look back. But I'd never be able to do that.

I knew that I was bitter about it, and I tried not to be, but sometimes it was such a depressing prospect to be stuck here for the rest of my life that I just couldn't help myself. I understood that I had an obligation to the pack, but sometimes I felt trapped. I mean I love those guys like brothers but it makes me feel sick to my stomach to know that I might never really get a chance to live the life I desperately want. A life that has to be better than the one that I'm living, because right now, I don't feel like I'm living at all.

Emily cleared her throat. "So," she said somewhat awkwardly, "Have you talked to your mother recently?"

I gave her a withering look.

"I'll take that as a no."

"Well why should I talk to her? She's the one who threw me out, remember? I don't owe her anything," I said hotly.

Seth wasn't the only one having trouble with a parent. My mother was a very, very sore subject. When I first began phasing, I was bound by Sam's gag order from telling her what was happening. I would have to sneak out of my room every night, and every night my mother would find me gone. Then she would ground me and the whole stupid mess would start all over again. Finally about a week before graduation she snapped and told me either I fessed up about where I was going at night or she was kicking me out. I told her she should either fess up about who my real father was or I was leaving. That led to a whole huge fight wherein I called her a big fat liar and she called me an ungrateful jackass. Then me with my infinite good judgment struck the deadliest of blows. I called my own mother a dumb whorebag. Yeah. Suffice to say I moved out that week and my relationship with my mother has been strained ever since.

"Embry," Emily said gently. "She misses you. You may not think so, but she does. I don't think it would kill you to go see her."

"I have seen her," I said.

"When? Because I ran into her the other day and she said she hasn't talked to you in over two months."

I scowled at her. "Well if you knew I hadn't talked to her in two months then why'd you ask me if I had talked to her?" I accused.

"Because," Emily sighed. "I don't know. I just feel so bad that you and your mom have fallen out. I mean you're the only family she has. I wish you could try and mend some fences and-"

I held up my hand to stop her. "Please refrain from pulling out your big book of overly earnest monologues. I can deal with my mother on my own."

"Fine, I'll stop meddling. Just think about it would you?"

I scratched my eyebrow and exhaled sharply. "Look, I know I'm not winning the 2010 Son of the Year award or anything….but I'll bet the voting was close."

Emily shook her head. "Always the smartass."

I shrugged. "Always."

Logan began fussing and Emily stood up, cradling him in her arms. "I'm going. You're still coming over for dinner next week, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I'll be there." I suddenly thought of something and added," But so help me if I get there and my mother is sitting in your kitchen, I'm going to be pissed."

"Hey, would I do that to you?" Emily asked.

"I don't know, would you?"

"Embry," she said a trace of exacerbation in her voice. "All right I'm going. Claire get your coat on."

Claire pouted but allowed Quil to shrug her into her raincoat.

"I'll see you boys later," Emily said as she hauled Claire towards the door.

"Hey Emily," I called after her.

"Yes?"

I gave her a mock salute. "Arrive alive."

Emily turned to Seth and gave him a sympathetic look. "You realize you're going to have to deal with him on a daily basis now, right?"

Seth just smiled. "Don't worry, I can handle the mathlete."

"How do you plan on doing that?" Emily asked with a laugh.

"Easy," Seth replied smugly. "By outwitting him conversationally."

I tisked my tongue. Standing up from the couch I reached over and patted Seth on the shoulder. "Oh Seth, you silly, silly bitch. Good luck with that," I said. "Oh but don't forget your scarf and gloves, you know, for when hell freezes over." I gave him a snotty smile and as I headed towards my bedroom I threw over my shoulder, "How's that for a witty rejoinder?"